by Joan Ellis
"Eric, shut up!" Kathy's voice rose to a scream of hysteria. "I won't listen! I won't listen!" She ran from the room, sobs wracking her, slamming the bedroom door with the sharpness of bullets.
"Eric, how could you?" Elaine stared at him in disbelief. "How could you be so utterly and completely stupid?"
"For the first time in my fife I had something wonderful, that belonged to me. My wife! And you couldn't stand even that. You had to take her, too."
"Eric, Kathy came to the studio to pose for me. It was simple as that. She was trying to make me face myself, do the kind of work that makes life bearable for me. Even I have to have something, Eric!"
"That note," he said harshly, but for the first time Elaine grasped the faint wavering of his suspicions.
"A girl who was jealous. Yes," Elaine nodded slowly. "The kind of a girl you think. I suppose you'd say I've been keeping her."
"Terry? The one you brought here?" His voice was incredulous.
"Terry. She hated Kathy from the first moment she saw her—because she knew how I felt. I'm not lying, Eric. I love Kathy, the way you think. But that's as far as it's ever gone. Far as it'll ever go."
Eric's eyes fastened themselves on hers, as though to force out the truth. They stood there in a cold, overbearing silence, that was suddenly split by a faint scream of pain across the rooms, and the moans that followed jolted them into action.
"Kathy!" Eric raced, deadly white into the bedroom, across the room to the door that led into the bathroom.
"Oh, no! No!" Elaine swayed in the doorway as Eric knelt beside his wife, while the blood gushed from her wrist, and the razor blade lay silently in witness on the floor beside her. "Oh, Eric, no!"
CHAPTER 12
"I'll call an ambulance!" Eric started indecisively, horror gripping him.
"Give me that towel, quick!" Elaine was thrust into action, knowing Kathy's life was spurting away there.
"Can you stop it?" The words were wrung from him.
"I think so! But we need medical help, fast." She reached frenziedly for Eric's hand. "Here, hold this tight, and press here on the brachial artery—that should cut down on the flow of blood." Thank heaven, she'd studied first aid, she thought with a sob of relief.
'We have to get a doctor," Eric reminded quietly, as though the strength for speech had deserted him. Let me try someone I now, before we put a call in for an ambulance. You know what it'd do to Kathy, to be dragged into Bellevue Psycho."
"I hadn't thought of that." Shock seized hold of him.
"Hold tightly," Elaine warned, rising from her knees and making a dash for the telephone. If only Dr. Levy were there! He was the one doctor she'd ever known to whom she could talk. He'd listened, providing her with gentle words and bromides to give her much-needed sleep when the going had got so rough a few times. Dear heaven, let him be there, she prayed, dialing.
"Dr. Levy's residence," a pleasant feminine voice came over the phone, and Elaine sighed with relief.
"Mrs. Levy, this is Elaine Ransome. We have a serious emergency at my brother's apartment!"
She waited, breathless, while Mrs. Levy got the doctor to the phone, then in quick simple terms she told him what had happened.
"I’ll be there in five minutes," he calculated swiftly.
"Sure you have the bleeding under control."
"Yes," she said apprehensively, and listened to his further instructions.
"Is he coming?" Eric sought instant reassurance as he heard the phone click back into place.
"Right away," Elaine walked back to him. "Don't move her, he said. Stay just the way you are."
"Is he far from here?"
"Fortunately only a dozen blocks or so." Elaine lowered herself to the edge of the tub, the horror of these last minutes draining her strength away.
"You okay?" Eric demanded, watching her anxiously.
"Fine." A crazy thing to say, but he understood.
"If—if anything happens to Kathy, I'm to blame," he muttered.
"No, it's on my head. I shouldn't have asked her to pose for me like that. I shouldn't have let myself think the things that went through my head."
"I really made a mess this time," he sighed. "Will I ever be able to straighten it out?"
"Don't think about that now." All the insane, stupid things they were saying, she thought rebelliously.
"Isn't there anything we can do?" Eric watched the small, bloodless face of his wife, as Elaine watched it.
"Only what you're doing now. Dr. Levy’ll be here any minute."
* * *
Elaine paced the living room, one side to the other, back and forth, for what she was sure were miles. Only soft murmurs in the other room where Dr. Levy worked over Kathy and Eric held his breath in fear.
"Well?" Elaine froze as the door opened and Eric walked out.
"We won't know anything for an hour or so," he said tiredly, falling into a chair. "He sent me out here to wait."
"Does he think she should go to a hospital?" Elaine demanded frantically. "What about blood transfusions?"
“Everything possible to do has been done," Eric repeated tonelessly. "That's what Dr. Levy told me. We can only wait now."
Elaine couldn't bear sitting there across from Eric now, feeling herself to blame, torn apart inside with anguish.
"I'll be back soon, Eric," she reached for her coat and purse.
"Where are you going?" His head shot up in surprise.
"An errand," she said tersely, all at once knowing what she had to do. "I'll be back in less than an hour."
Elaine hurried out into the corridor, into the elevator, impatient to be in a cab that would take her across town to Terry's. She had to talk to that little fiend, let her know what she might have done! Let her know it was all over between the two of them. Suddenly, it was desperately important.
The lights were out in Terry's apartment, Elaine noted grimly as she hurried from the taxi to the stoop of the brownstone. How did she dare sleep when Kathy's life might be ebbing away? She raced up the stairs, stumbling in her anxiety to get there, reaching into her purse for the key, fumbling with the lock for an instant because her fingers were so unsteady. Then the door was open, and she reached for the light switch.
The two on the bed blinked as the overhead lights hit their eyes. The windows were tightly closed, so they needed no blankets. Not that they would have anyway, Elaine thought mirthlessly, as overheated as they were now. Terry and some strange girl. This was the kind for whom the word butch invented, Elaine thought, sickened. She'd never seen a girl so thoroughly masculine. The severest of male haircuts, a flat lean male body that was glistening with perspiration from the efforts of their lovemaking.
"Who's that?" Terry's friend demanded nastily.
"Elaine," Terry explained sullenly. "You got some nerve coming in at this hour."
"I thought I was paying the rent here," Elaine reminded, then was instantly ashamed of herself even mentioning it.
"So what?" Terry said insolently. "You got yourself that studio, didn't you, so you could romp that screwball sister-in-law of yours. Why should I be different?"
"You followed me," Elaine murmured quietly. ”You trailed me, thinking all the wrong things."
"I know you, Elaine. I knew what you wanted with Kathy. How was she? Better than me?" She flexed her body provocatively, as though daring Elaine to deny her vulnerability.
"Kathy isn't like you," Elaine spat out bitterly, “She happens to be in love with her husband."
"You mean, she isn't like us," Terry corrected venomously.
"You want me to throw this creep out?" The other girl rose from the bed menacingly, as though thoroughly enjoy a fist fight.
"Don't bother," Terry purred silkily, stroking her bare buttocks. "Tell you what, sweetie, slip into some clothes and go buy us a few beers. I’ll be waiting when you come back. Alone."
Terry and Elaine stayed in stony silence while the butch hastily pulled on slacks and a shirt, reached f
or a beat-up leather jacket.
"You don't have to worry, doll, I’ll be fine," Terry reassured her newest acquisition as she hesitated at the door. "Buy a few cans of beers and come back."
Elaine waited until the door was shut and the heavy steps told her they wouldn't be disturbed for a few minutes.
"How dare you send that note to my brother!"
"Why shouldn't I?" Terry tossed her head back defiantly. "You were crossing me up, trying to figure out a way to get rid of me. For her!" Suddenly Terry was on her feet, clawing at Elaine, trying to tear her clothes. "Nobody does that to me, you lousy bitch! Nobody!"
"Stop that!" Elaine swore under her breath, shoving Terry violently away from her, not caring that she landed on the floor with an ugly thud.
"I hate you!" Terry screamed. "I'll louse you up at the agency so you'll never dare show your face in that place again! I can do it, too," she warned triumphantly.
"I don't care what you do," Elaine assured her with brutal frankness. "Go back to your new girl, live any way you want. I'm giving you this, for services rendered." She reached into her purse and began to write out a check.
"The perfect gentleman?" Terry mocked. "I've got enough on you to keep those checks coming regularly. Wait’ll Stephie comes across with those photographs."
"There won't be any," Elaine told her. "He's stalling you."
"I don't believe you!" But Elaine saw alarm shoot through that once so-desirable body. "Stephie just hasn't had time."
"There won't be any photographs, or any more checks." Elaine's voice was coldly confident. "Here you are, paid in full!"
Elaine handed over the check, watching cautiously for any further outbursts.
"Sure you can afford it? Five hundred bucks.” Terry shrieked derisively.
"I'll pay three months rent on the apartment. By that time you should be thoroughly set up again.” Elaine put her checkbook back into her purse "And don't ever show your face before me again. If we meet anywhere, it'll be two strangers!"
"Get out!" Terry yelled in sudden fury. "Get of here before I kill you!"
As Elaine closed the door she heard the crash of the lamp and the sobs of rage that tore through Terry. That was that. The end of a most bitter affair.
* * *
Elaine knocked gently on the door, not wanting to ring the bell lest she disturb Kathy. Eric came slowly to open it for her, then returned silently to his chair.
"Anything new?" she asked anxiously.
"Not yet. He just sits in there by the bed, watching." Eric rose to his feet again. "I feel so damn useless, sitting here like this, doing nothing!"
"I'll stay here till I know she's—out of danger," Elaine forced herself to take the optimistic road. "Then I'll go."
"Why should you go?" Eric turned his agonized face to her. "You saved her life, if—" his voice broke. "If she makes it. Dr. Levy said so."
"She won't want to see me," Elaine tried to be calm. "Not after everything that's happened here tonight."
"Will she want to see me?" Eric countered. "God, the things I said!"
"She loves you."
"How much can love take?" he demanded. "I don't know what happened to me. Everything inside my head seemed to break loose suddenly."
"You can talk to Kathy. She'll listen."
"Maybe," Eric reminded ominously. "If she's in condition to listen to anyone."
"Would you like a drink, Eric?" Sympathy for her brother surged to the surface now. She knew what agony encased him.
"Haven't I had too many already?" he asked wryly. "No, I'll wait it out, sober." He paced again, for a few moments, then returned to stand beside Elaine's chair. "I haven't been much of a brother, either, have I?"
"I've always understood," she smiled faintly. "You weren't to blame." Who was, actually?
"When Mother came back from Paris with you, she told me she'd pulled you out of some terrible scrape. She'd never tell me what it was."
"It might have been better if she had."
"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore. Except Kathy's lying in here, possibly dying!"
"Eric, don't even think it!"
"I have to. I have to start living with things now. I've been running all my life." Then his eyes sought hers. "Elaine, what about you?"
"I'm not sure," she began slowly, and then both Eric and she fastened their attention on the bedroom door as it slowly opened.
Dr. Levy walked, quietly, his face telling them nothing.
"Dr. Levy—" Eric took a step towards him.
"She's going to be all right," he said gently. "It was mighty close, but she made it." He reached into his pocket for a prescription pad. "Have this filled and follow these instructions. I'll be back some time tomorrow morning."
"Dr. Levy, you're sure it's okay for you to leave her?" Eric insisted.
"Absolutely," he smiled in sympathy. "Now before you go looking for a drugstore to fill this, go into the bedroom and see your wife. She's been asking for you. Don't let her talk too much, though," he warned.
"I don't know how to thank you, Dr. Levy." Elaine gave him a hand in gratitude.
"I'm glad everything's working out all right," he smiled, yet Elaine felt the odd questioning in his eyes. "These accidents can be nasty."
"Bless you, Dr. Levy." It would go down on the books as an accident, she thought with relief. No unpleasantness for Kathy to face. Thank heaven for that.
Elaine waited until Dr. Levy was out in the corridor and in the elevator before she began to gather her things together. Then she hesitated. If there was a prescription to be filled, someone would have to stay with Kathy. She'd go, let Eric stay here. It gave her a sense of a reprieve, to have these extra few minutes here, to rejoice in Kathy's safety. Inside, the voices were muted, the faintest whispers. She hoped Eric would say the right things.
"I'll run down for the prescription," she offered hesitantly, somehow not able to meet his eyes right now.
"I'll go," he insisted. "Kathy wants to see you."
"Eric, is everything all right between you two?" She had to know this.
"It will be. Kathy knows I want to make up for every rotten thing I said and did." He reached to touch her shoulder reassuringly. "Go on inside and stay with her."
"I have to tell you the truth," Elaine said honestly. "I love Kathy, the same way you love her. I wish there were some way I could change things."
"You didn't have to tell me that," he remonstrated.
"No lies between us, Eric," she insisted steadily.
"You have to know, just as you have to know it'll never go beyond that."
"I trust my wife," Eric said quietly. "And I trust my sister."
"Thanks, Eric."
Eric held the door to the bedroom open, and she walked inside the room, where the bedside lamp tossed delicate shadows across the small white face resting against the pillow.
"I gave you a rough time," Kathy whispered.
"We were frantic," Elaine was honest, "but the blame lay with Eric and me."
"I don't know why I did a thing like that. Never in my life did I ever think I would!" The dark eyes were wistful with apology.
"Don't think about it now," Elaine coaxed urgently. "There's so much that's good waiting ahead."
"It's funny—I thought Eric and you were the disturbed ones, but I was just as badly messed up inside. I guess nobody's ever completely normal, except in normal circumstances. I'll bet if you pull back the covers from people, you find all sorts of nightmares you'd never suspect."
"I'm sure of that, Kathy."
"What about you, Elaine?"
"What do you mean?" The question threw her off-guard.
"Are you going to be all right now?”
"That depends upon what you call 'all right'," Elaine acknowledged candidly.
"Everybody must have one big thing in their lives. If it isn't someone to love, it has to be some thing. You have your work."
"Yes, I will have that," Elaine managed, thinking
how little those outside could know.
"You're going back to painting?" A glow of satisfaction shone forth from Kathy.
"Nobody’ll stop me," Elaine assured her. "I'm quitting my job immediately. I have money enough put away to live on for almost a year, if I'm careful. Maybe in that time I'll find myself." She'd known when she gave Terry the check that she'd never go back to the agency again—it'd be unbearable.
"I know you will," Kathy murmured softly, and then Elaine realized she was going off to sleep.
So sweet, so vulnerable. Admit it, Elaine commanded—so utterly desirable. Yes, she'd go back to painting, and away from familiar places and familiar faces. Back to Paris for a while. Back into the secretive shadows, searching for others like herself. Not like Terry, no! But perhaps, somewhere, some time, another Alex to make the dark murky shadows less a desolate lonely world. Nobody could understand except those who inhabited this outcast isle of ill-regarded love.
She walked into the living room, to the window, to stare out into the night. She'd work, as Kathy said, and hope to find a way of life that was honest and endurable. She couldn't play the old masquerade anymore. Somewhere, out in the night, were others like herself—those who walked alone…
~ ~ ~
AFTERWORD
A new revolution was underway at the start of the 1940s in America—a paperback revolution that would change the way publishers would produce and distribute books and how people would purchase and read them.
In 1939 a new publishing company—Pocket Books—stormed onto the scene with the publication of its first paperbound book. These books were cheaply produced and, with a price of twenty-five cents on their light cardboard covers, affordable for the average American.
Prior to the introduction of the mass-market paperback, as it would come to be known, the literary landscape in America was quite different than what it is today. Reading was primarily a leisure-time pursuit of the wealthy and educated. Hardcover books were expensive and hard to find, so purchasing books was a luxury only the rich living in major metropolitan areas could afford. There simply weren’t many bookstores across the country, and only gift shops and stationary stores carried a few popular novels at a time.
