The So Blue Marble

by Dorothy B. Hughes

  “Mrs. Stepney?”

  By the girl’s eyes, she knew the answer.

  “But she left early, Miss Satterlee.”

  Griselda’s fingers were clenched. “Did she say…”

  “To the country with friends.”

  “Did she say when she would return?”

  “Sometime tomorrow, she thinks. Or Monday morning.”

  This was Saturday. She remembered then something else. Services for Nesta. Private, but that only meant greater hordes of fans. She wouldn’t be missed by the fans but Oppy and Jasper would know. The press would know. The police would wonder? Surely it would be safe to pay last tribute. The Montefierrows wouldn’t be there. Not if Ann had gone away with them. If she went with Oppy and Jasper she’d be safe.

  She called the Waldorf. The clerk said Mr. Coldwater would speak with no one, doctor’s orders. She told him with cold fury, “This is Griselda Satterlee. Get me through to Mr. Coldwater or Mr. Oppensterner or you’ll never have another celebrity at your hotel!” She hadn’t the nerves for tact now.

  Jasper was speaking. “What is it, Griselda? You’ve no idea what I’ve been through. It’s positively revolting. I am exhausted. Where are you? Oppy’s been trying to reach you. The services are at three.”

  She told him, I’m at my sister’s, Ann’s. Can you come for me?”

  “Griselda!” He shrieked it. “If you knew! I can’t even put my head out of the door. We have guards. The fans!”

  She said, “I can’t help that, Jasper. I suppose I have to be there today. And I can’t go alone.”

  He spoke aside for the moment, then said, “We’ll send for you.”

  She told him flatly, “I don’t trust anyone I don’t know. Whom can you send?”

  He mentioned Jack Churchill, one of Oppy’s publicists. That was satisfactory.

  She warned him, “Don’t tell anyone else where I am.”

  He was weary. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Griselda. They’ve been hounding you, too. I know how it is.”

  He didn’t know. He wasn’t in danger. But she could trust Jack. She added, “Tell him to come up for me.”

  He said yes. “Wear a heavy veil. Women, are fortunate. They can wear veils.”

  She had lunch on a tray, then finger-tapped until Olga announced him. It couldn’t have been long, long as it seemed; they were before time for the services. The walks in front of the fashionable church were packed, police lines holding the gogglers back. Jasper said: Wear a veil, as if Ann’s wardrobe held mourning veils. But no one would know her face. She wasn’t of this; she was an innocent bystander. Churchill took her arm through the guard lines, down the church aisle. She was to sit with Jappy and Oppy. They rose to let her enter the pew.

  Jasper whispered, “I’m exhausted. What I’ve been through! You’ve no idea!” but he kept his face looking doleful.

  The organ was sad, and the preacher’s poignant words in a more poignant voice. Gardenias, Nesta’s flower, were blooming everywhere; the scent was overpowering, nauseous. Everyone was sniffling and fat tears rolled down Oppy’s cheeks, plopping on his derby. But it wasn’t sad about Nesta. There was nothing for which she should continue existence except more money and more clothes and more men. It was sad about Mr. Grain, and his wife so lone; about the bank guard with never a chance. Nesta had walked into her own web. But everyone wept as if something beautiful and lovely had been halted. Not everyone. Not Jasper, strong and silent, beating back tears. Not Tobin two pews ahead and across, but the back of his head looked at her. Not Moore, two pews back; you could see him when you looked towards Oppy. Nor Griselda, wondering why they were here, frightened of them now because they could balk her freedom.

  The organ played recessional and everyone stood up. Jasper whispered, still lugubrious, “We’re flying back this afternoon. You’d better come too.”

  Escape. If she could. But she couldn’t. She said, “I can’t Jasper. I wish I might.” The passion of regret took away his feigned sorrow for the moment and he peered curiously at her.

  “You’d better come, Griselda. I’d be afraid to stay around here any longer. Too many queer things happening.” He half-shivered.

  They were in the aisle, Oppy first Jasper and she, in single file moving slowly to the door. Fresh air, out of the stifle of gardenia scent.

  She spoke a word to Oppy, poor little red-nosed Oppy, and Jasper playing to the now-sobbing sidewalk starers.

  Oppy wept “You won’t go with us to the airport? There will be photographers there, and we will scatter Cape jasmines.” He said it jas-o-mines. “All the way to California! That’s better than gardenias, everybody has gardenias.” He blew his nose.

  She said, “It will be wonderful, Oppy. You do things right. But I can’t go.” She watched them leave, Tobin and Moore leading in an official car. She was left alone in the hordes of strangers, feeling a forlorn and frightened waif.

  There was no place for her to go, no place to lay her head. Suppose Tobin had taken her away in that car. Suppose the twins should close in on her now, or Missy, with a hatchet in her hand. Gig might take her, lock her in again. The panic that had been hers all day surged now unbearably. She’d have to hide away to stay safe for Con. Other people hid in New York. She would go to a hotel. But she wanted her own things, a change of clothes. It was reckless but it should be perfectly safe now, the police at the airport, Gig at the University, the twins in the country. She would hasten.

  There was no one in sight when she slipped in. She opened the apartment door, closed it noiselessly, and started to the coat closet for her grip. She stopped short. The door to it was ajar, someone lying in the shadows there as if he’d fallen face down out of the darkness. It wasn’t Con; she could see that. Somehow this didn’t shock her, perhaps she was beyond that now; nor, strangely enough, was she frightened. She bent over, and then she saw placed near the hand, as if he were reaching for them, her glasses. She knew who it was. Without thought she retrieved her glasses, put them on. She knew she must get away, get away fast now.

  She went into the bedroom. The bag of Con’s in the closet was too big but no way to get her own. She packed more than she needed, another dress, another; change of shoes, hats with tissue paper crumpled in their hollows. But she couldn’t delay too long. She must go away; she must go fast. It was as if childhood was returned; you could put off taking the medicine but not forever.

  She wasn’t afraid to go through the living room but she didn’t. She went the back way, once terror to her, through the areaway to the front curb. The heavy bag bumped her knees. She must await a cab. And then behind her she heard the voice.

  “I thought you’d forgotten me.”

  The dark laughing face with the black eyes, the stick pointed. He’d come from within the apartment foyer. She might have known it was impossible. She couldn’t hope to get away.

  A town car, black, unobtrusively elegant, was drawn up at the curb. There was nothing to do but precede him.

  She asked, “Why are you taking me to Queechy?”

  “Any number of reasons.” He was lighting one of his cigarettes. She wondered, was it depressive or exciting? ‘This is end of the story. We will have the marble and leave.”

  She parroted, “I don’t have the blue marble.”

  He sucked smoke. “We have about come to that conclusion, Griselda. But we will know soon.” There was nothing of menace in the way he spoke but something twitched, warned her.

  ‘’You will know. How will you know?” The dark buildings rushed by, trees were beginning to grow on the roadways.

  He said, “We’ll know from Con.”

  She was frightened. “Con has nothing to do with it.”

  “Don’t be absurd. We know Con had the marble. You say you don’t have it. It follows, he has it.”

  She wanted time to think. “Why take me to the country then?”

  “He will follow you.”

  She could laugh. “What makes you think so?”

  “Dea
r stupid child.” He laughed. “If you have the marble he will come in order that you do not give it away.” He shrugged. “If you haven’t it, he will come anyway for you.”

  “You’re the stupid one, David. Con doesn’t care what happens to me.”

  “No? You don’t love each other?”

  “No, we don’t.” Her eyes were wide. “We’re divorced.”

  “What do words matter? He’ll come for you. He’s in love with you. I know these things. I see them. He won’t let you rot with us. And if you were to be in danger, he would come quickly. When he comes we will see about the marble.”

  He was wrong, but not wrong that Con would come, stick his head into it because of the damned marble. Danger. He had said that before when she was thinking of Con. Danger. The word didn’t have the bright sound that poets gave to it. It was something dark and furry, nauseous.

  David said, “Rest if you can. It’s quite a way, you know. We won’t hurry. We’ll stop for dinner.” It was growing dark.

  She couldn’t sleep, not with him there. She questioned suddenly, frightened again, “Ann?”

  ”She’s quite all right. Even enjoying her stay.”

  “Why did you want Ann?” She demanded it. “Perhaps I couldn’t get out of inviting her.” He laughed.

  She didn’t believe him.

  She did drowse a little, not into the deep mesh of sleep, but on the surface hammock. She opened her eyes to a lane of intertwining trees, then a glimmer of water. It was dark now.

  He said, “We are there.”

  The car stopped. He opened the door, stepped out, his stick pointing towards her. “This way, Griselda.”

  She felt her way under the lacings of trees, down a stony path, touching his shoulders for guidance. He walked as a night thing, even as she had noticed before.

  The cottage to which he led was two-storied, with a screened porch below and above. It stood on a hilly place, the lake gray, soft-spoken, at its feet. There was a yellow spill of light from the windows. The other cottages at angles right and left and beyond were dark as they were silent.

  He spoke briefly as they went up the wooden steps to the porch. “Do not frighten Ann.”

  She whispered, “No. We must not frighten Ann.”

  He opened the door into the glow of the living room. Missy was curled on the flowered couch. Danny had a drink before the burning fireplace. Both looked at her.

  Danny said sourly, “You were long enough.” David nodded. “Yes. I was. Get us a drink, Missy.”

  She uncurled. She seemed tiny, somehow pathetic, like a child in her pink coat and silk pajama legs. Her eyes weren’t pathetic. They were hot, as sun on a mirror. “Did she bring it?” Her words were greedy.

  Danny said, “Missy, darling, our guest desires a drink,” and David helped Griselda with her coat. She sat in the chair opposite Danny by the fireplace, surprised at her chill, her tiredness. She took the glass from Missy’s hand, looked curiously into it, then at her sister.

  Missy was cross-legged at Danny’s feet. “It won’t hurt you. There’s no poison in it.”

  Griselda looked at her evenly. “No, that isn’t your weapon.”

  Something licked in Missy’s eyes. She leaned her shoulders against Danny’s shins. He put his hand on her lemon hair.

  David drew up another chair. “Don’t bother Griselda now. She’s had a long trip. She needs sleep before we discuss matters.”

  She thanked him ironically, sipped her drink. Then she asked, “I suppose it’s no news to you that Irish Galvatti has been murdered?”

  The twins opened their blank eyes wide and Missy spat an unprintable word.

  Danny bristled laughter. “Missy is such a jealous child.”

  Griselda was too tired to feel. She set down the drink. David said, “I’ll take you upstairs. You share with Ann. We’re rather crowded here.”

  Missy yawned. “Beastly place.”

  She said, “Goodnight,” and pointedly, “I hope this will be a quiet night.”

  David assured her courteously, “Nothing will disturb your slumbers, Griselda.”

  She followed him up the staircase. He tapped at the right hand door. Ann’s voice sounded, nervous, “Who…?”

  He nodded to Griselda.

  She answered, “It’s I, Ann. Griselda.”

  David went downstairs before the key turned in the lock.

  3

  It was a large double bed. The door was re-locked, a chair placed under the knob.

  Ann whispered, “I’m so glad you’ve come, Griselda. They said you were coming but I didn’t believe.”

  “They said that?”

  “Yes, but you didn’t.” Ann sighed under the sheet. “And now you are here. I don’t even mind sharing the bed, and I much prefer sleeping alone.” Her voice was softer than a whisper. “I’m sorry you came but I’m glad. You understand? I’ve been-so-so disturbed.”

  Griselda held her breath. “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing.” It was hard for Ann to speak. She wasn’t accustomed to being out of her gilded theater. “Nothing you can say, Griselda. I don’t know.” Then tensely, “Have you ever seen their eyes, Griselda?”

  “Whose eyes?” But she knew.

  “The twins. Have you ever noticed? You can’t see into them.”

  “Yes. I’ve noticed that.” She tried to make it usual, natural. “Is that what’s frightened you?”

  “No. I tell you it’s nothing. And then, Missy and Danny-they’ve been quarreling horribly, Griselda, horribly…”

  “They aren’t pleasant.” She wanted to quiet Ann, to keep Ann out of this.

  “Why did you come here?”

  “I don’t know. Really I don’t, Griselda. David kept urging, and I was bored. He is-was-attractive.”

  “Why did they want you here?”

  Ann stirred the bed shaking her head. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. But they took the key to my apartment. I know one of them did. It was in my purse when I came and it isn’t there now. And they’ve asked and asked questions about you.”

  She broke in, “What questions?”

  “If you stayed at my apartment at all, if you left anything there. Do you know what I think? I think they’re still looking for that blue marble.”

  “I think you’re right,” Griselda told her softly. Key or no key, she wasn’t afraid they’d found it.

  “I wanted to get word to you not to come, or to bring Arthur when you did. But I couldn’t. There’s no phone, and I couldn’t get away.”

  “Couldn’t?” The echo was cautious.

  Ann’s voice shook a little. “They watch all the time. They pretend they don’t but they know every moment where you are, what you are doing. I tried to get away this afternoon when I was frightened after David left. I don’t suppose I would have gone really. But I thought if I reached a main road I might stop a car. I started out to the road, the one that comes in here, and Danny was there. He asked where I was going.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “That I was taking a little stroll. And he said, “Let’s stroll this way.’ He took my arm and-I went with him. I was afraid not to, Griselda.”

  They heard footfalls climbing the stairs, more than one; past the door, down the corridor. Ann was stretched like a wire in the bed. They heard a door close.

  Ann whispered, her whisper almost too soft to be audible. “And Missy. I’m even afraid of Missy, Griselda. Isn’t that absurd? Our own sister and the baby, too. But she came on the porch this evening. Danny and I were sitting there, and she looked-I can’t tell you.”

  Griselda spoke with urgency. “Don’t be alone with Danny, Ann.”

  “I don’t want to be alone with any of them. I want to go back home. Why do you suppose they’re keeping us here?”

  She wanted to be helpful. “They’ll tire of this place soon. I think they are waiting for Con now. It’s getting late. I must sleep.”

  Ann said, lonely, “I wish I could sleep.
”

  4

  Through all of life, she would never forget this. The three lithe bodies stretching upwards on the raft against the sun, leaping together into the golden-drenched waters. Even although she knew they were only waiting to kill her too, they were beautiful, so beautiful they hurt. She dived from the shore dock, stung with the shock of cold, came up gasping and ran, robed in red wool, back to Ann by the fire.

  She said, “I think they’re coming in now.”

  Ann didn’t look up to speak. “There isn’t a scrap of paper, no letters, notes, nothing, in any of their belongings. There isn’t anything personal. It’s as if all three of them were just delivered outright from some shop.”

  Griselda said on the stairs, “Thanks for looking. I know you hated it.”

  “I didn’t mind.” She followed Griselda. “It’s better than just sitting here shivering.”

  They heard the others come in while Griselda pulled on her cream sweater, zipped the scarlet, black and white skirt. They returned to the living room below.

  Griselda asked, “What do we do about food?”

  Ann returned to pretense of the magazine. “There’s some deaf old woman comes in to cook and a little dusting. She never says a word.”

  Danny and Missy came tumbling down the steps. David was behind them. They were like an interlude in a musical piece, all in slacks, moccasins, blue-white sweat shirts. Missy was singing, some little French taunt. It was all high-spirited, as if this were in reality but a pleasure trip. Missy sat in the exact center of the rug and lit one of her tiny cigarettes. She shook the daisy petals of her bright head. “Next week we will be sailing on the ocean again. Won’t it be so lovely, Danny? Water under our heels.”

  David said, “I wouldn’t smoke too much, Missy.”

  Her purple eyes were wide, childlike. “I’ve not smoked since breakfast.”

  “You promised,” he reminded her quietly.

  “I’ll be good, very good. Just this one?”

  Ann put down the magazine. “When do you plan to start back to the city, David?” She was casual, so casual. “Arthur will be back tonight, or certainly tomorrow morning.”