by Randy Salem
She leaned forward and kissed the top of Carol's head. "Darling," she said, "I love you. And I need you, Carol. I need you to help me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, like we are now, happy and alone."
Carol took Chris' hand and kissed the raw fingers. "Please be sure, honey," she said. "I don't want to lose you, once I think I've got you."
"You've got me, darling. I want to be with you. I want to put my head in your lap and go to sleep and sleep until it doesn't hurt anymore."
"I know, Chris. I know," Carol said.
"Oh, Carol, do you? Do you know I'm finished? That I’ll never go diving again? Or chase off after a pearl or a treasure? Do you know?" Her voice was harsh with suffering. "I'll sit and write articles and limp around on a cane. I'll never get to Tongariva or anywhere else. I'm finished." She looked at Carol with something close to desperation.
"Honey," Carol said, "if I believed that, I'd shoot you now, like a race horse with a broken leg. For your own good." She touched the fingers again with her lips. "But you're going to see Dr. Brandt at nine. You're going to walk in there and tell that man you're going to Tongariva. And a week from now, as you said, you'll be there." She spoke with a conviction that did not sound forced.
Chris knew that it must be so.
They sat together in the dark, content not to talk. Carol sat leaning against the chair, her fingers around Chris' ankle. Chris brooded until, finally, she got bored with it. Then she began to plan.
The problem was first to get back on her feet. Then she could consider diving again. It wouldn't do much good to think about going to Tongariva if she couldn't even walk to the plane.
First you have to move all the movable parts. Like this, with the fingers. She got them into a claw, then relaxed. Then again. Now the leg.
Every movement was a torture. She wanted to scream, to let it out. But she flexed the fingers, then the leg. Then the shoulder, then the leg.
"Honey," Carol said suddenly. "What about Dizz?"
"What about her?" Chris said. She had managed not to think about Dizz for many minutes.
"Well, I'd like to have this week with you before you go"
"That's fair enough," Chris said.
"We'll have to tell her," Carol said.
Chris sighed. She did not relish the task. "Ill tell her myself. As soon as I get home tomorrow. It'll be better that way." She expected there would be a scene.
No reason to put Carol in the middle of it. Carol had had no part in the unhappy thing that had been her life with Dizz. No sense in exposing her to the bitter end of it.
"You're sure you want to do it alone?" Carol asked.
"Positive," Chris said. "I know Dizz."
They heard Johnnie come up the stairs and into the room. He was wearing a black pea jacket and carrying two extra ones over his arm. He-handed one to Carol.
"Okay, skipper," Johnnie said. "I'm ready if you are."
"Right," Chris said. "I think you'd better help me, Johnnie."
Johnnie stepped to the chair as Carol scrambled out of the way. He helped Chris into the jacket and buttoned it for her. Then Johnnie lifted Chris in his arms like a child and carried her out of the room.
Carol switched off the light and followed them down the stairs.
When he had settled Chris comfortably in back of the station wagon, Johnnie turned to Carol.
"We’ll take it slow," Johnnie said. "We've got plenty of time."
Chris lay in the darkness. The voices moved off. She heard the mumble of them in the distance. She kept her eyes closed tight, her lips pressed together. She did not want to cry, and she was very close to it.
For some reason, everything seemed to have gone wrong with her world. Here she was, on the brink of the most important job she'd ever had, and she had gotten smashed up. And here she was, still in love with Dizz, and making plans to go off and live with another woman.
But I love Carol, she thought. She loves me and understands me and she'll help me pull myself together. Dizz wouldn't understand. All she’ll have for me is an "I told you so." She'll despise me for being a failure. And Chris knew that nothing could hurt her more.
She heard Johnnie crunching over the gravel to the car.
"All set, skipper?" Johnnie asked, poking his head in the window.
"Yeah," Chris said. "All set."
CHAPTER 17
Jonathan was having himself a quiet case of hysterics. He had been stamping up and down the office, chewing his nails and massaging his bald pate. Finally he sat down at his desk and made a meager attempt at self-control.
For two hours Chris had been patiently explaining to him that she was not about to die and was not even immobilized, and for two hours he'd been screaming that this was the most expensive and important project the museum had ever undertaken and that he could not risk sending her, that she was obviously in no condition to handle the job.
"All right," Chris said finally. "I’ll make a compromise with you."
Jonathan stopped screaming. “For instance?" he said.
"For instance," Chris said," you send Morris or Disney or somebody else along to help me. I'll let him do most of the dirty work. And take credit for whatever we find. I'll even finance my part of the expenses." It would be well worth it, even if she went a little hungry for awhile.
Jonathan frowned. "But why?" he said.
"Look, Jonathan," Chris said. "This trip means more to me now than finding Glories. It means my whole future. I have to prove to myself that I haven't been relegated to arm chair exploring."
Jonathan's eyes narrowed. "Are you afraid you might be?"
He had been waiting a long time for her to come a cropper, Chris knew, on account of Dizz. At the same time, he was not anxious to lose Chris as a scout for the museum. From the look on his face, Chris knew he could not decide whether to clap or weep.
Chris shook her head. "Not afraid, Jonathan. Just too block-headed to admit it."
"Well," he said, bringing his fingers together under his chin, "since you put it that way, I haven't much choice. But how do I know you're not going to take ridiculous risks? If anything happens to you, I'll get it in the neck."
"I’ll swear to it," she said.
He sat pensively pursing his lips. Then he said, "Sheila's going to go with you, isn't she?"
Chris did not answer for a long minute. She knew what Jonathan had in mind. He would not trust her to behave, but he would trust Dizz to keep an eye on her. Dizz could be most adamant about a responsibility to anybody but Chris. She wanted others to think only the best of her. Chris guessed Dizz probably wanted her good opinion too. She just couldn't keep up the front all the time.
She thought of Carol and her promise to tell Dizz she was leaving her. Yet she knew that without Dizz, Jonathan could keep her from making this trip. And at the moment nothing was as important as this trip.
"Yes," she said. "She is."
"Yes," Jonathan said. "I think we can count on Sheila to keep you in line."
He came out from behind his chair and walked to where Chris sat. "You have everything in order, I trust."
"Naturally," Chris said. She handed him the heavy folder. "Look it over."
Jonathan was not satisfied until he had made a personal evaluation of every grain of sand on the island. He harangued over each minutest detail. Finally he closed the folder and clasped his hands on top of it. He looked across at Chris, a smile of approval in his eyes.
"Good," he said. "You'll leave the city Thursday at noon. We’ll have a car here at eleven to take you and the others to the plane. We'll check on Wednesday for last minute items." He rose and leaned over the desk to shake Chris' hand. "Good hunting, Chris," he said.
“Thanks, Jonathan," she said.
Chris limped painfully from Jonathan's office, then stopped outside the door and leaned her back against the wall. Now that she was all clear with Jonathan, she had another problem on her hands.
What could she tell Carol to make her understa
nd? Surely she must know how important this trip was to Chris.
But how could she know? Chris herself hadn't known until this morning. Lying awake on the mattress in the back of Johnnie's station wagon, she'd thought about nothing else the whole long way home. And she had lifted Dizz out of the framework of her plans and fitted Carol in. It would seem strange without Dizz, maybe even lonely for awhile. Dizz was not good for her, she knew. A life of self-denial and frustration, of self-abasement and of abuse was all she could hope for with Dizz. But there was a challenge there she would never have with Carol. The wish to possess something that would not be possessed, like chasing a butterfly that flitted always out of reach.
She and Carol could build something great together, working and playing and living together. A rich, constructive, satisfying life. Carol did not have the fatal fascination that belonged to Dizz. But she was gentle and good. She was beautiful and she could respond to passion, could feel desire and follow it to satisfaction. She would be good for Chris. They would be good for each other.
How can I tell her? How can I say, "I love you but you'll have to wait. I want to live with you, but I have something more important to do first."
Chris sighed and left her post against the wall. She walked back to the solarium. She did not bother to knock, but entered and stopped just inside the door.
Carol and Johnnie were drinking coffee, nervous and waiting to hear from her.
"Hi," Chris said. "Johnnie, do me a favor and wait for me in the station wagon, will you? I want to talk to Carol." Her eyes were pleading.
"Sure, skipper," Johnnie said. He got up immediately and left the room.
Chris watched Johnnie leave, then turned to face Carol.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Carol said. "Did he say no?"
"Not quite. He made it conditional," Chris answered. She sat down in the chair Johnnie had just left. "I agreed to take another diver and put up the cash for my share." She frowned. She did not know how to phrase the rest.
"What else?" Carol asked quietly.
Chris flushed, knowing her discomfort was plain on her face. "He insists that Dizz go along as originally planned. He's always had a thing for Dizz. He trusts her more than he trusts me, anyhow."
Carol hesitated before she asked. "Did you agree?"
"Yes."
Carol got up from her chair and went to stand at the counter by the windows. She was crying almost silently.
Chris did not move. She did not have the words to comfort the girl. She could only wait until the hurt had passed and hope that Carol would forgive her.
After a few minutes Carol came to stand behind Chris' chair. She put her cool hands on either side of Chris' neck and massaged with gentle fingers.
"Chris," she said, "I think I understand why you feel this trip is so vital." She paused. "At least, I hope I understand. Anyhow, I know I have to trust you. I believe you love me and that you'll come to me when you can. In the meantime, I guess I'll just have to wait."
Chris reached up and took Carol's hands and kissed first one, then the other. "Thank you," she said. "I hoped you could understand. I don't know how valid it is, but right now Tongariva looks like heaven to me. I have to find out."
Carol returned to her chair. "Honey," she said, "will I be able to see you at all before you leave? It might be a couple of months before you get back."
"Hmm. I know," Chris said. She stopped to think about it. She knew that Dizz would blow her top one way or the other. Chris had promised not to leave her and Dizz would lash her with that promise like a whip. On the other hand, she probably suspected they had gone off together. Her pride alone should make her tell Chris to go. It would be easier if Dizz threw her out. Easier for both of them.
"Ill tell you what I’ll do," Chris said. "I'll have it out with Dizz this afternoon. It has to be sooner or later, so why not now? I'll tell her I'm going to be with you until Thursday and that when we get back, I’ll be living with you."
"She's not going to like that," Carol commented.
"She'll have to. I know what I want," Chris said, "and it's you. I’ll be over sometime tonight." Her jaw was set with determination.
"Chris, darling. Please. Don't say it unless you're sure," Carol said. "I couldn't take it."
"I'll be there tonight," Chris said.
"I believe you," Carol said. "Because I love you."
"It's mutual," Chris said. She leaned forward and kissed Carol on the lips. "I'd better go now. Dizz said she'd be there at noon."
"All right, darling," Carol said. “Tonight." The word held promise of many things. And all of them were good.
Chris left Carol and crept painfully to the great hall. She stopped at the door and leaned her head against the cold wood. Her head was throbbing and her nerves were jangling. She knew she could not take much more.
Johnnie was waiting for her in the station wagon, listening to a ball game on the radio. He shut it off as Chris opened the door.
"What's up, skipper?"
Chris slid into the seat and slammed the door. She stuck out her lower lip and frowned. She did not know how to explain to Johnnie any more than she had known how to put it to Carol.
"I have to take Dizz with me to Tongariva," she said.
“The blonde?"
"Hmm. The blonde. The boss man wants her to keep an eye on me," Chris said sourly. She turned on the bitterness as much to impress herself as Johnnie.
Johnnie turned in the seat and laid his arm along the back. "How about Carol?" he asked.
"I explained it to her," Chris said. "She says she understands. I'm going to try to spend the rest of the week with her, then move in with her when I get back." She knew it didn't sound good. She would have laughed out loud if anybody had said it to her.
"You're going to tell blondie this?" Johnnie said.
"Yes, I'm going to tell blondie this," Chris said.
"Whew!" Johnnie said. He raised two fingers and gripped his nose. “That stinks. You think you've got trouble now. Just wait'll that dame gets through with you." He ran a finger from ear to ear across his throat.
Chris grinned sardonically.
"Look, skipper," Johnnie said, his tone serious and his eyes blacker than black. "I don't give a good damn if your girl blows you away. But I'd be awful angry, my friend, if anything happens to Carol."
Chris elevated an eyebrow. "Oh?" she said.
"Yeah, oh," Johnnie said. "I've got it pretty bad for her."
Chris nodded. She'd known that since she saw them dancing together. Johnnie, the big homely galoot, had given up to Carol without a fight. Johnnie, who'd never had a girl all to himself, had fallen for Carol and would do his best to protect the girl even from the skipper.
"Okay, mate," Chris said. "Let's shove off. By the way, you delivered the car, didn't you?" She'd promised Dizz to leave it at George's hotel.
"Sure."
"Did you find a place to stay?"
"Yeah," Johnnie answered. He was making no attempt to make light of the situation.
Johnnie made a U-turn and headed south on Fifth Avenue.
Chris did not try to break through Johnnie's reserve. He had right on his side and Chris was all too well aware of the fact.
And she knew too that if anything should go wrong this afternoon with Dizz, Johnnie would stand by Carol and help her get over the blow. She did not dare think of failure with Dizz, but it did help to know that Carol had someone to look after her.
"Look, Johnnie," Chris said. "Don't hit me. But do me a favor."
Johnnie glanced at her. "Carol?"
"Yes," Chris said. "Get in touch with her tonight. Just in case anything goes wrong with Dizz."
"I'm warning you, skipper," Johnnie said. "I love that kid."
"Yes, Johnnie, I know," Chris said.
"And I'm warning you something else," Johnnie said. "I'm not going to stand by and let you walk all over this one."
Chris winced at Johnnie's words. They were true, she knew. Until she had m
et Dizz, Chris had been a carefree, footloose devil. With a graceful ease that could charm the birds off the trees, Chris' life had been a series of one night stands. A whirlwind courtship, promises to be true forever, one lovely night, and off to the next one. And Johnnie, good old Johnnie, was left to pick up the pieces.
Not that Johnnie had ever complained. Envious of the way Chris had with women, he had stood by and watched with awe.
But not this time. Not with Carol. Because this time Johnnie really cared. This time he wasn't just being Chris' buddy. And at the moment he wasn't thinking much of Chris as a person either. That realization hurt Chris deeply.
Chris smiled sadly at Johnnie and nodded. "Okay, mate," she said. "I'll remember that"
CHAPTER 18
Chris unlocked the door and walked into the apartment Johnnie followed her in.
Dizz apparently had not been back to the apartment since she'd left on Saturday morning. It smelled stuffy and closed in.
Johnnie walked across the living room and pushed back the curtains. He opened the French doors. "Nice place you have here," he said. "We like it," Chris said. She went into the kitchen and managed to put up water to boil. She set out two cups and saucers and spoons. She had trouble with the lid on the coffee jar and swore.
When she returned to the living room, Johnnie was looking at a photograph of Dizz on the dresser in Chris' room. Chris heard him whistle.
"That's a good looking chick you've got," Johnnie said, coming into the room and facing Chris. "How do you manage?" He shook his head slowly in renewed admiration. Chris laughed.
Johnnie walked out to the kitchen. "Coffee black?" he said.
"Black."
They sat down together on the couch, drinking coffee and talking and laughing over the good old days.
At one point Chris glanced at her watch. It was after three. Dizz had promised to be home at noon.
"Excuse me," Chris said. "I have to make a call."
She went to the phone and dialed the Dizendorf’s number. She asked for Sheila.
