“But I don’t know the road. And I might get a flat tire.”
“That won’t hurt you. In fact, often, when I advise a patient to take an automobile trip alone, I rather hope he does get a flat tire or have some difficulty to get out of himself.”
“Very well. I’ll come alone,” she said with dignity.
“Good! That’s the stuff! If you’re upset there’ll be no Italian chauffeur to blame for it anyhow, and,” he added casually, but looking at her sharply, “no companion to help you out of one difficulty or another.”
Charlotte returned the sharp look, then glanced away. She had referred to the overturned car to Doctor Jaquith several times, but never had spoken of her companion.
“You never told me you had psychic power.”
“I haven’t. But I’m a fairly good mathematician.” He smiled and glanced up at the clock. Three minutes after eleven. “Well, time’s up.” He stepped up to Charlotte and shook hands. She had to stand up out of courtesy. In a moment he would disappear through the double doors through which he had entered.
“Oh, I do wish we might talk ten minutes longer!” said Charlotte. “There’s so much I want to say, especially now.”
“Well, if you want to wait two hours, I can give you ten minutes, but my advice is, save it till you come to Cascade.”
26
A TALL DARK LADY
Cascade was not confined to one building or to one group of buildings. It was dotted here and there all over the little town, upon which the two farmhouses where Doctor Jaquith housed his “guests” looked down from their hill. The two farmhouses were both painted white with green blinds, had fan-topped doorways and small-paned windows, in fact they were as alike as a pair of identical twins.
One was called Oldways and was built in 1825, the other Newways and was built in 1925. They were connected by a woodshed filled with logs and kindling, chopped and piled by the guests. At one side of the farmhouses there was a huge red barn and behind there were apple orchards, hay fields, pastures, stone walls, and 100 acres of woods. There were two ponds in the woods, three brooks, and a 50-foot precipice. At the top of the precipice the three brooks joined forces and fell down its face in countless slender, white ribbons raveled at the ends, many disappearing into mist before reaching the bottom. Therefore the name Cascade.
The twin farmhouses did not suggest a sanatorium. There were no doctors’ offices on the premises, no business office, no weaving or workshops. All these were located in the town on the other side of a river. The guests walked across a trestle bridge and down the village Main Street to keep their doctor’s appointments, or to go to their various places of work. This enforced a brisk ten-minute walk several times a day with a definite goal at each end.
Doctor Jaquith advocated goals even for a walk. Also he believed any conditions, obliging his guests to carry out a daily program similar to that of an average healthy human being, were an advantage. He was in favor of separating the place where one worked from the place where one lived. The journey between the two enforced periods of reflection—“swinging on the gate,” as he called it. According to Doctor Jaquith, far better off the commuter than he whose job is just across the street.
When there had been only one white farmhouse Doctor Jaquith had had only one colleague to assist him. Now there were four doctors on his staff. However, Doctor Jaquith made it his business to acquaint himself personally with everyone he accepted at Cascade. Each newcomer was assigned to one of the young doctors for the daily talks and checkups, but there were always occasional conferences with Doctor Jaquith too.
The younger doctors’ offices were located in a remodeled dwelling house on Main Street, but Doctor Jaquith had never moved from his original location, “up over” the First National Bank next door. It was a brick building with granite stops and granite pillars upholding a portico. It resembled a small Greek temple.
Three days after her appointment in New York, Charlotte arrived at Cascade alone in her car, after an all-day run. The trip had so replenished her self-confidence that she felt equal to driving to the west coast alone, and it had reduced her fears of a recurrence of a nervous breakdown to mere shadows. She was tired, but she had reason to be, and welcomed it.
The reception given her when she entered the hall of Oldways made her heart glow. The thirty-odd guests were about to go in to dinner. Most of them were strangers to her, but there were a few familiar faces—a few returning graduates, like herself, who greeted her warmly. It was a little like returning to one’s club or fraternity in college. The servants knew her and smiled, other staff members came up and shook hands, and Miss Trask, who played the role of chief steward (as well as chief warden when necessary), fairly pounced upon her, giving her one of those breezy familiar welcomes of hers that used to increase her sense of isolation horribly when she was a novice.
The dining room at Cascade was a low-studded, ell-shaped room finished and furnished in old pine, with an uneven floor made of wide boards. For dinner its old pine tables, of various sizes and shapes, were lit by candles in old pewter and brass holders.
Miss Trask seated Charlotte at one of the round tables for eight, introducing her dinner companions so rapidly that she got only a name or two.
She had finished her soup before she glanced around the table to take an account of stock.
Halfway round her eyes came to a stop. Almost opposite there was a pair of eyes that met hers which reminded her of J.D.’s! So dark that they looked black, and with those same striking, sienna brown brows. The eyes were those of a very thin young girl with hair cut like a page’s, only longer. It reached to the bottom of her long thin neck, and was straight and flat. Her bangs nearly touched her eyebrows. Her posture was poor—shoulders stooped, chin lifted, as if crouching and looking up.
Charlotte took a drink of water to steady herself. J.D. had said he had consulted Doctor Jaquith about Tina. Could this piteously emaciated child be that stolid little girl in the kodak picture? This child wore no spectacles, but Doctor Jaquith might have found glasses unnecessary. J.D. had said Tina wouldn’t eat. This child wasn’t eating. Just going through the motions. She spoke only when spoken to, which was seldom. Evidently her table companions had given up trying to bring her into the conversation. Sometimes it is kinder not to try.
Charlotte knew from her own experience that often well-intentioned attempts at friendliness only make one’s incompetence more conspicuous. There were no other young people at the table. That, too, was kinder. Charlotte had often wondered what her life would have been if Doctor Jaquith had introduced her to his principles of self-reliance and adaptation when she was in her teens.
Charlotte conversed with her near neighbors at the table, but her attention was concentrated on the silent figure opposite. Frequently she glanced at her, and almost every time the big eyes were fastened upon her, or in the act of quick retreat. Probably just a curiosity. But it was a relief when the child, during dessert, turned to Miss Barnwell, one of the assistants, murmured, “Excuse me, please,” and left the room.
Coffee at Cascade was always served in the living room. As Charlotte sipped, she searched for the haunting eyes. Groups were forming for various activities—ping-pong, bridge, Chinese checkers. A dozen or more were going to a moving picture in the town. Charlotte was asked to join them, and also received an urgent request to make a fourth at contract. She begged off from all invitations, pleading physical weariness.
When she had finished her coffee, she strolled into the hall, glanced into the library, then drifted into the glassed-in sun porch. There she found the child!
She was seated alone at one of the card tables which were usually set up there, covered with half-finished jigsaw puzzles. She was gazing down, her elbows placed upon the table, her chin in her palms. Her long hair hung down on either side of her face like a pair of curtains, concealing all but the tip of her nose. Unobserved, Charlotte watched her from the threshold. She didn’t touch a single piece of the puzzle
—just sat there staring down. Charlotte made a noise so as not to startle her—then approached the table.
“How’s it coming?” she inquired casually.
“All right.”
Charlotte put her head on one side and studied the portions of the picture already fitted together—a bit of blue sky here, a patch of green grass there, a man’s face, a girl’s foot in a slipper. “What’s it supposed to be?”
“I don’t know.”
“Here’s the girls’ other slipper! Mind if I join you?” She drew up a chair and sat down opposite. “What’s the title of the picture?” She reached for the box cover near-by. “It says, ‘The Proposal.’ I think the girl is in pink. Isn’t that the edge of her dress above the slipper? I’ll collect all the pink pieces, unless you’d rather I wouldn’t. Sometimes it’s more fun to do a puzzle alone.”
The child raised her eyes, but not her chin and looked at Charlotte.
“I know who you are,” she said in a low tone.
Charlotte was startled. “You do! Who am I?”
“You’re my new nurse.”
So that was why she had shown such curiosity at the table! “No, I’m not. You’re wrong.”
“Well, companion then. You can’t fool me. I know why you followed me out here—to make sure I wasn’t going to run away from this place again.”
“Did you run away from this place once? I didn’t know it. What’s your name, by the way?”
“Oh, you know my name, all right. And you know, too, just how much I ate for dinner and just how much I talked and everything. I saw you staring at me all through the meal.”
“Did you? How rude of me! But it was only because you reminded me of somebody.”
“Who?”
Charlotte hesitated. “Well, if you must know—in lots of ways, of myself.”
“Humph! You’re just saying that!”
“No. Truly. I mean when I was your age, of course. Aren’t you about fourteen?”
She remembered how it used to please her at that age to be thought older than she was.
“I’m twelve, nearly thirteen.”
“So this is where you are!” Miss Trask approached the table. “What are you doing out here, Christine?”
“A picture puzzle called ‘The Proposal.’”
“But your schedule says you are to spend your evenings with the young people.”
“They’re older than I am. They don’t want me.”
“Of course they want you! But naturally they’d want you more if you’d make a little effort yourself. Doctor Brine has already told you about pulling your own weight, hasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then, go ahead and do it now. I’ve got a ping-pong game all fixed up for you.”
“Oh, not ping-pong! They all play better than I do.”
“If you wait till you’re the best in everything, my dear child, you’ll never do anything but picture puzzles all your life.”
“But I’m feeling sick to my stomach tonight.”
“Well, then, a little exercise will be good for you. You’re to play doubles. Barbara and Betty against you and Bob Borst.”
“But he’s the best player here!”
“Well, that’s why you’re to be his partner, so as to make it an even match.”
“Oh, but I’ll be the worst one! I’ll die! Oh, I’ll just die!”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort. Don’t dramatize, Christine.”
“Oh, please, please, please!” She looked up at Miss Trask with a terror-stricken expression. “Don’t make me, don’t make me, don’t make me,” she beseeched.
“No, don’t make her,” Charlotte exclaimed.
Miss Trask turned and looked at Charlotte in blank amazement. No one ever interfered with her authority. “I realize your intentions are kind,” she said, “but we know what is best for Christine. It isn’t good for her to sit here alone doing jigsaw puzzles all by herself in the evening. You know, as well as I do, that it is against the principles of Cascade.”
“But we’re doing the puzzle together.”
“The doctors want Christine to have some form of exercise in the evening. I’m sorry, but I’m here to carry out the doctors’ wishes.”
“I’ll see that she has some exercise. I was going to ask her if she’d go down to the town with me later. I want to leave my car at a garage and get it washed. We’ll walk back, or run back, if you say so. That is, if Christine will be so kind as to go with me. Will you, Christine?”
She nodded violently. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” The breathy repetition sounded like a valve letting off surplus steam.
Miss Trask addressed Charlotte. “I thought I heard you say you were too tired to do anything tonight but to crawl into bed,” she remarked dryly.
“Cascade must have performed a miracle on me,” Charlotte replied, also dryly.
“Oh, please let me go with this lady,” Christine burst out. “I’ll promise to drink all my cocoa tonight, if you will. Upon my word of honor. Oh, please let me, please be kind to me, just this once. Please—”
“For goodness’ sake, stop dramatizing, Christine!” Miss Trask interrupted, and paused, looking down at the imploring eyes, the imploring hands, too, clasped tightly on the table top, the arms stretched toward her. Then abruptly, “Go and get your hat and coat,” she said.
Christine shot out of the room without a backward glance, like a bird out of a cage.
“It’s the first time that child has wanted to do anything with anybody else since she has been here,” Miss Trask told Charlotte when they were alone. “That’s why I’m letting her go. But I must tell you a few things about her first. She tried to run away a few days ago, so you mustn’t let her out of your sight. She’s going to have a nurse within a day or two, but, in the meanwhile, she is my responsibility.”
“I’ll look out for her. You can trust me.”
“I know I can, knowing you. She’s not at all adjusted here yet. She’s full of complexes and defenses of all sorts. All her life she has depended on an overindulgent father. We’ve got to wean her and set her on her own feet. By the way, she’s in Room 16 in Oldways. You’re in 18, and share the same bathroom. Don’t be disturbed if you hear her crying. The last person in 18 said she has spells of it. Just ignore it. It’s one of her little tyrannies—like not eating. Ignore that, too. But if you can manage it, get some food into her tonight—ice cream soda, or sweet chocolate. She eats practically nothing at the table. Here she comes.”
A half hour later Charlotte and Christine were seated at a small table with a black enamel top in a drugstore, both drinking chocolate ice-cream soda and eating fig-newtons.
“How long have you been here at Cascade?” asked Charlotte.
“Ten days—nearly eleven.”
“You don’t like it much, do you?”
“No.”
“Neither did I at the end of ten days. But the first two weeks are the worst.”
“I shall never like it. And if they keep me here I shall die. Then they’ll be satisfied.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“My mother and sisters.”
“Haven’t you a father?”
“Yes. The reason I said I’d come here was because of my father. The doctor said it would help him. But I hate it here! I hate it here! I hate it, hate it, hate it!”
“Do you want to go home?”
“No.”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know. There’s no place I want to go. My mother doesn’t want me at home, that’s why it’s helping Father for me to be here.”
“Where were you headed when you tried to run away?”
“For a telephone booth in the town to put in a reverse call to my father.”
“To ask him to come and get you?”
“No. I promised him I’d stay here for two weeks. I just wanted to hear Daddy’s voice. I—” She stopped, pushed aside the ice-cream soda, only half-finished, and looked
down at the table top, the curtains of hair falling forward concealing her face. “I’m almost sure my father is dying,” she murmured.
“Is he sick?”
“They won’t let me speak to him so I don’t know.”
“Doesn’t he write to you?”
“I can’t be sure from his letters. He wouldn’t write me anything to worry me. I want to speak to him, I want to hear his voice, then I’ll know. But they won’t let me! When I told Miss Trask I was afraid my father was dying, she said I was dramatizing and to trot along and forget it.”
“And did you ask your doctor?”
“Yes. He said I mustn’t let a fear lead me around by the nose, and that I had to wait till Saturday night before speaking to my father. That’s four days more. He may be dead by then.” She lowered her head. Several tears dropped on the table top.
“Listen, Christine, there’s a telephone booth in the corner, and here’s my purse full of change. Will your father be at home tonight, do you think?”
“You mean I can call Daddy now?”
“Certainly that’s what I mean. I’ll wait for you here.”
WHEN SHE CAME BACK to the table, her eyes were shining, her cheeks flushed. She looked almost pretty. “He’s all right! He answered the telephone himself. Mother was out at church. He’s not sick! He played some chords on the piano so I’d know he was downstairs, and not answering the telephone by his bed. It was lucky Mother was out, or he mightn’t have played the chords. Mother thinks he spoils me. Oh, thank you for letting me speak to him. Thank you, thank you! I’d like to finish my ice cream soda now.”
“Let’s have a fresh one. It’s almost gone.”
“But I’ll owe you so much! My father said I am to pay you back the money. He wanted to know who was letting me call him. All I could say was, ‘a tall dark lady,’ and that I’d write tomorrow and tell him your name. What is your name, please?”
“Don’t you think secrets are rather fun? Let’s not tell your father my name for a while. Just refer to me as the ‘tall, dark lady.’ It sounds so mysterious. And, look here, I don’t believe I’d say anything to Miss Trask about this telephone call. It might put me in a little wrong.”
Now, Voyager Page 23
