XVI
ENTER--JIM
It was with a light heart that Rose-Marie started back to the tenement.The tears had cleared her soul of the months of evasion that had soworried her--she felt suddenly free and young and happy. It was as if arainbow had come up, tenderly, out of a storm-tossed sky; it was as if astar was shining, all at once, through the blackness of midnight. Shefelt a glad assurance of the future--a faith in the Hand of God,stretched out to His children. "Everything," she sing-songed, joyously,to herself, "will come right, now. Everything will come right!"
It was strange how she suddenly loved all of the people, the almostmongrel races of people, who thronged the streets! She smiled brightly ata mother, pushing a baby-buggy--she thrust a coin into the withered handof an old beggar. On a crowded corner she paused to listen to the vaguecarollings of a barrel organ, to pat the head of a frayed looking littlemonkey that hopped about in time to the music. All at once she wanted toknow a dozen foreign languages so that she could tell those who passedher by that she was their friend--_their friend!_
And yet, despite her sudden feeling of kinship to these people of theslums, she did not loiter. For she was the bearer of a message, a messageof hope! She wished, as she sped through the crowded streets, that herfeet were winged so that she might hurry the faster! She wanted to seethe expression of bewilderment on Mrs. Volsky's face, she wanted to see alight dawn in Ella's great eyes, she wanted to whisper a message of--oflife, almost--into Lily's tiny useless ear. And, most of all, she wantedto feel Bennie's warm, grubby little fingers touching her hand! Jim--shehoped that Jim would be out when she arrived. She did not want to haveJim throw cold water upon her plans--which did not include him. Well sheknew that the arrangement would make no real difference to him--it wasnot love of family that kept him from leaving the dirty, crowded littleflat. It was the protection of a family, with its pseudo-respectability,that he wanted. It was the locked room, which no one would think ofprying into, that he desired.
She went in through the mouth-like tenement door--it was no longerfrightful to her--with a feeling of intense emotion. She climbed thenarrow stairs, all five flights of them, with never a pause for breath.And then she was standing, once again, in front of the Volskys' door. Sheknocked, softly.
Everything was apparently very still in the Volsky flat. All up and downthe hall came the usual sounds of the house; the stairs echoed withnoise. But behind the closed door silence reigned supreme. As Rose-Mariestood there she felt a strange mental chill--the chill of her firstdoubt. Perhaps the Volskys would not want to come with her to theSettlement House, perhaps they would resent her attitude--would call itinterference. Perhaps they would tell her that they were tired ofher--and of her plans. Perhaps--But the door, swinging open, cut shorther suppositions.
Jim stood in the doorway. He was in his shirt sleeves but--even divestedof his coat--he was still too painfully immaculate--too well groomed.Rose-Marie, looking at him, felt a sudden primitive desire to see himdirty and mussed up. She wished, and the wish surprised her, that shemight sometime see him with his hair rumpled, his collar torn, his eyeblackened and--she could hardly suppress a hysterical desire to laugh asthe thought struck her--his nose bleeding. Somehow his smooth, hardneatness was more offensive to her than his mother's dirty apron--thanhis small brother's frankly grimy hands. She spoke to him in a coollittle voice that belied her inward disturbance.
"Where," she questioned, "are your mother and Ella? I want to see them."
With a movement that was not ungraceful Jim flung wide the door. Indeed,Rose-Marie told herself, as she stepped into the Volsky flat, Jim wasnever ungraceful. There was something lithe and cat-like in his slightestmovement, just as there was something feline in the expression of hiseyes. Rose-Marie often felt like a small, helpless mouse when Jim wasstaring at her.
"Where are your mother and Ella?" she questioned again as she steppedinto the room. "I _do_ want to see them!"
Jim was dragging forward a chair. He answered.
"Then yer'd better sit down 'n' make yourself at home," he told her, "ferthey've gone out. They're down t' th' hospital, now, takin' a last slantat Pa. Ma's cryin' to beat th' band--you'd think that she really liked_him_! An' Ella's cryin', too--she's fergot how he uster whip her wit' astrap when she was a kid! An' they've took Bennie; Bennie ain't cryin'but he's a-holdin' to Ma's hand like a baby. Oh," he laughed sneeringly,"it's one grand little family group that they make!"
Rose-Marie sat down gingerly upon the edge of the chair. She did notrelish the prospect of spending any time alone with Jim, but a certainfeeling of pride kept her from leaving the place. She would not let Jimknow that she feared him--it would flatter him to think that he had somuch influence over her. She would stay, even though the staying made heruneasy! But she hoped, from the bottom of her heart, that the rest of thefamily would not be long at the hospital.
"When did they go out?" she questioned, trying to make her tone casual."Do you expect them back soon?"
Jim sat down in a chair that was near her own. He leaned forward ashe answered.
"They haven't been gone so awful long," he told her. "An'--say--what'sth' difference _when_ they gets back? I never have no chance to talk wit'you--not ever! An'," he sighed with mock tragedy, "an' I have so much t'say t' yer! You never have a word fer me--think o' that! An' think o' allth' time yer waste on Bennie--an' him too young t' know a pretty girlwhen he sees one!"
Rose-Marie flushed and hated herself for doing it. "We'll leavepersonalities out of this!" she said primly.
Jim was laughing, but there was a sinister note in his mirth.
"Not much we won't!" he told her. "I like you--see? You're th' bestlookin' girl in this neck o' woods--even if you do live at the SettlementHouse! If you'd learn to dress more snappy--t' care more about hats thanyer do about Bible Classes--you'd make a big hit when yer walked out onDelancy Street. There ain't a feller livin' as wouldn't turn t' look atyer--not one! Say, kid," he leaned still closer, "I'm strong fer yer whenyer cheeks get all pink-like. I'm strong fer yer any time a-tall!"
Rose-Marie was more genuinely shocked than she had ever been in her life.The flush receded slowly from her face.
"You'd like me to be more interested in clothes than in Bible Classes!"she said slowly. "You'd like me to go parading down Delancy Street ..."she paused, and then--"You're a fine sort of a man," she saidbitterly--"a fine sort of a man! Oh, I know. I know the sort of peopleyou introduce to Ella--and she's your sister. I've seen the way you lookat Lily, and she's your sister, too! You wouldn't think of making thingseasier for your mother; and you'd give Bennie a push down--instead of aboost _up_! And you scoff at your father--lying dead in his coffin!You're a fine sort of a _man_.... I don't believe that you've a shred ofhuman affection in your whole make-up!"
Jim had risen slowly to his feet. There was no anger in his face--only ahuge amusement. Rose-Marie, watching his expression, knew all at oncethat nothing she said would have the slightest effect upon him. Hissensibilities were too well concealed, beneath a tough veneer of conceit,to be wounded. His soul seemed too well hidden to be reached.
"So that's what you think, is it?" he asked, and his voice was almostsilky, it was so smooth, "so that's what you think! I haven't any 'humanaffection in my make-up,'" he was imitating her angry voice, "I haven'tany 'human affection'!" he laughed suddenly, and bent with a swiftmovement until his face was on a level with her face. "Lot yer know aboutit!" he told her and his voice thickened, all at once, "lot yer knowabout it! I'm crazy about you, little kid--just crazy! Yer th' only girlas I've ever wanted t' tie up to, get that? How'd yer like t' marry me?"
For one sickening moment Rose-Marie thought that she hadmisunderstood. And then she saw his face and knew that he had beendeadly serious. Her hands fluttered up until they rested, likefrightened birds, above her heart.
The Island of Faith Page 15
