Park Avenue Tramp

by Flora, Fletcher

  “I see. He seems to be quite liberal, to say the least. Maybe he doesn’t deserve to be deceived.”

  “No, no. You don’t understand at all. It’s impossible to think of Oliver as being liberal. It’s just that he’s always had so much money that he’s never learned to consider it important.”

  “I doubt that I’d ever be able to understand that.”

  “Yes. That’s so. It’s possible only to people who have always been rich.”

  “Anyhow, the money aside, he must be liberal regarding you in other respects. What I mean is, you seem to do a lot of moving around on your own. Aren’t you ever required to account for your time?”

  The conversation had now become suddenly threatening, and she wished that he had not asked the last question. It compelled her to think of how Oliver had known last night precisely where she had been the night before, and to wonder if he would know tomorrow where she was tonight. This was something she did not wish to think of, and she refused to believe, in spite of what she had thought, or said to Edith, that he was having her followed or possessed supernatural powers to know what it was clearly impossible for him to know normally. It was much more likely that he had learned what he knew by accident. Yes, that was almost certainly it. Someone had seen her and followed her, someone she knew who did not like her and wished her harm. This person, whoever he was, had told on her to Oliver out of pure malice, and the more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that it was probably Milton Crawford, for it was just the sort of mean trick Milton would be capable of playing when his vanity was hurt. Of course. It became clearer and clearer as one thought about it. Milton had seen her leaving the place they had been, and he’d followed her and told on her. It might seem rather incredible that anyone would go to all that degrading trouble just to play a mean trick, but not if you knew Milton, and she was convinced, because she wanted to be, that this was the explanation for everything.

  “Well,” she said, “he frequently asks me where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing, but I’m always able to explain things satisfactorily.”

  “You mean that you’re an accomplished liar.”

  “I don’t think it’s fair to put it that way. I’m only doing good to everyone concerned by not telling things that would get everyone disturbed and cause a lot of unnecessary trouble.”

  He closed his eyes. The tips of her fingers worked a kind of cool, dry magic.

  “Oh, Jesus,” he said.

  “What? Why did you say that?”

  “Never mind. I’m just wondering if you’re sublimely rational or completely in left field.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, and I don’t think I care to. What I think is, we’re wasting too much time in talking about depressing things. As I said, I can only stay for a while, perhaps until eleven or twelve, and I’d like to talk about something cheerful or nothing at all.”

  “All right. What shall we talk about?”

  “I’d like to talk about what we’ll do tomorrow, and I’ve already decided what it will be.” “Is that so? Tell me.”

  “I’ve decided that we will drive out on Long Island in my Jaguar. It’s plain that getting out of the city would be very good for you, and it’s fun to drive out somewhere in a Jaguar. Have you ever done it?”

  “I’ve never owned a Jaguar.”

  “You’ll love driving out on Long Island in one. Wait and see.” “What if I were to decide that I don’t want to drive out on Long Island in a Jaguar?” “Are you serious?” “No.”

  “You’ll go?” “Yes.”

  “Good. That’s settled, then. I’ve also got an idea about what we might do the weekend. Would you like me to tell you?” “Yes, I would.”

  “Well, I have a friend who has a house in Connecticut, and I’m sure it would be all right with her if we went up there and used it. Have you been in Connecticut?”

  “Probably not to the same places in Connecticut that you’ve been.”

  “Oh, Connecticut isn’t very big. You can hardly go there at all without going practically everywhere.”

  He began to laugh again very softly, scarcely audibly, stopping after a minute or two with a strangled sound in his throat.

  “Why are you laughing again?” she said.

  “I don’t know. I have a feeling that I shouldn’t be laughing at all.”

  “Will you go to Connecticut with me?”

  “Can you explain a weekend to your husband?”

  “I’ll think of something. Probably this friend who owns the house will be willing to say she wants me to go up with her. Will you go?” “I have an idea that I will.”

  “That’s sensible. Do you see how good I am for you? The bartender where you work said I would be bad for you, but you can see that it isn’t so. Already you’re laughing and looking forward to doing things.”

  “I told you about Yancy. He worries too much.”

  “That’s true. He means well, but he worries too much. What time is it?” He lifted his left arm so that he could see the watch on his wrist. “Almost nine-thirty. Why?”

  “I was wondering how much time was left before eleven or twelve. I’m sure I can safely stay till twelve. It’s becoming rather tiring, sitting here this way, however. I think it would he more comfortable for both of us if we moved over to the bed.”

  There was no denying the validity of this, and so they moved, but after a while they went to sleep while the music on the record kept repeating itself, and it was after one when she wakened and went away.

  CHAPTER 11

  Thursday on Long Island was wonderful, a fine day, and they drove from Jamaica to the North Shore and all the way along the North Shore to Orient Point, where they had a very interesting time in a secluded place, and the next day, Friday afternoon, they drove northeast into Fairfield County, Connecticut. They went directly to the Early American house of Charity’s friend, which had been arranged for, and they were alone there that night and the day after, and in the evening of the day after, which was Saturday, they lay side by side on a pair of chaises longues on a terrace and felt domestic, as if Joe had just a little while ago got off the 6:02 from the city. From where they were on the terrace, they could see across quite a lot of grass to a bluestone drive that ran down to the road through a split-rail fence with a hitching post beside it. The split-rail fence didn’t keep anything in or out, and nothing was ever hitched to the hitching post, but they were pretty and effective and were something nice to look at in the cool evening.

  “Exurbia,” Joe said.

  ‘What?” Charity said.

  “I said Exurbia. You know. A place beyond Suburbia where people live.”

  “Oh. Like in the book, you mean. I didn’t read it, because I hardly ever read anything at all, but I remember people talking about it at cocktail parties and places, and some of them were quite angry. The ones who live here, I guess. My friend, Samantha Cox, who owns this house, said that it presented a very distorted picture of things, but she was forced to admit in fairness that it was very clever. Samantha makes quite a point of being absolutely fair about books.”

  “Well, I gather that your friend Samantha isn’t a real Exurbanite. It was probably easier for her to be fair than it was for some of the others.”

  “That’s true. Samantha only comes out for short periods every once in a while. She really prefers to live in her apartment in town.”

  “Why does she bother with the house at all, then?”

  “It’s no particular bother. She has lots of money and can afford it easily, and she feels that it’s important to her career.”

  “Career? Does she have a career?”

  “Oh, yes. Didn’t I tell you? She’s very serious about being a TV actress, but she hasn’t had much luck at it yet.” “Sorry. I don’t get the connection.”

  “Lots of important TV people live in Fairfield County. Don’t you remember that from the book?”

  “Yes, I do, now that you mention it. TV and advertis
ing.”

  “That’s the reason she keeps the house. She has parties sometimes and invites certain people to them.”

  “I see. Wasn’t it fortunate that she hadn’t planned a party for this weekend?”

  “It was. It was very fortunate.”

  “How does it happen that you don’t have a country house of your own?”

  “I don’t care for one. I wouldn’t want to live here or come here as a regular thing, and I have no other reason like Samantha’s to make it worthwhile.”

  “Wouldn’t your husband care to live here either?”

  “Oliver? Not at all. Oliver wants to live in the same place all the time and do the same things over and over. He’s really quite abnormal about it. He has a kind of schedule that he keeps. That’s why it’s possible for me to go around different places with little or no interference.”

  “Even on weekends?”

  “Yes. Isn’t it convenient?”

  “At least. Do you really believe that he’s ignorant of what you do?” “Well, most of it. Anyhow, even when be learns something, it doesn’t seem to make much difference in the long run.” “That’s convenient, too. Do you think he’s learned anything about us?” “I’d rather not talk about it.” “Why not? Because he has?”

  “To tell the truth, someone saw us that first night and told him, and I’m of the opinion that it was Milton Crawford. He’s the one I was with when I walked away and blacked out and went to where you were. Milton’s just the kind of sneak who would tell on someone if it suited him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Milton?”

  “No. Your husband.”

  “Nothing much. He was sarcastic and nasty, the way he can be, but now it’s over and forgotten.”

  “Oh, God. Just over and forgotten and nothing more to it.”

  “I’ve told you and told you that Oliver’s odd. If you knew him, you’d understand. You can’t expect him to react to anything the way someone else probably would.”

  “Thanks for telling me anyhow.”

  “Are you angry because I didn’t tell you sooner?”

  “No. I’m not angry.”

  “I didn’t want to worry you, and I was afraid, besides, that you might decide it would be better if we didn’t see each other any more.” “I have no doubt at all that it would have been better.” “You see? If I’d told you, you would have refused to see me.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “In spite of Oliver’s knowing about the first night?”

  “In spite of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I couldn’t have. Because I’m weak or strong or don’t care. Because I’ve wanted you constantly almost the whole week I’ve known you.”

  “Isn’t it marvelous, the way it’s lasted? I’ve wanted you all the time, too, and as far as I’m concerned it’s very unusual. I’d not have thought in the beginning that it was possible. Do you think it will go on and on until we die?”

  “For me or for you?”

  “For both.”

  “No.”

  “For either?” “Not for you.” “For you?”

  “Possibly. It won’t have as far to go in my case, you see, which makes a difference.”

  “Don’t talk like that. You know very well that it makes me sad. Anyhow, it has lasted this long and is still lasting, and I don’t want to talk about it, or my husband, or anything depressing and unpleasant like that.”

  He turned his head to look at her and saw that she had been looking at him all along. Reaching for his near hand, she smiled the smile that was somehow sad even when she was relatively happy She was wearing a white blouse and short white shorts, even though it was quite cool now in the evening, and her skin was smoothly golden all over, where it showed and didn’t show, for the color had been acquired by lamps in privacy and not by the sun, which she didn’t particularly like and generally avoided.

  “What do you think it would be amusing to do tonight?” she said.

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course honestly.”

  “What we did last night.”

  “Well, naturally That’s assumed. I meant besides that.” “Nothing especially. Do you have an idea?”

  “There are always lots of parties around different places on Saturday night. It’s true that we haven’t been invited to any, since no one knows we’re here, but we could undoubtedly find one where we would be welcome if we wanted to go.”

  “Do you think we’d better?”

  “I guess not. I don’t much want to go, anyhow. Do you?” “I don’t want to go at all. I’d rather lie here and hold hands and look at the split-rail fence.”

  “It’s very pleasant, isn’t it? And that’s another surprising and unusual thing. Ordinarily I’m not content to sit quietly for any length of time. Ordinarily I’d much rather be going somewhere and doing something exciting.”

  “I’ll go somewhere with you if you want to go.”

  “No. I agree that it’s much more pleasant here than it would be anywhere else. It’s beginning to get quite dark, isn’t it? It reminds me of under the trees on the street where I lived as a girl. That was in another town in another state. Light filtered through the leaves into the shadows and there were thousands of cicadas in the trees.”

  “I thought you were a native New Yorker.”

  “No. Not at all. Why did you think so?”

  “I don’t know. I just assumed that you were.”

  “Well, I’m not. I lived in another town in another state.”

  “Tell me about living there.”

  “I don’t think I want to. It would depress me. It’s better here and now than it’s ever been anywhere else at any other time. Don’t you think so?”

  “Yes. I think so. I was even thinking that it would be pleasant and easy to die here. Just lying here looking at the split-rail fence. It’s strange. You’re subject to the absolute indifference of the universe, and you take comfort and courage in a split-rail fence.”

  “It’s nice, I admit, but I don’t think you need to be so gloomy about it. You seem determined to make me sad, and I wish you wouldn’t do it.”

  “I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling gloomy or trying to make you feel sad. As a matter of fact, I’m feeling very happy.”

  “Truly?”

  “Yes. In my frame of reference, at least.”

  She lifted his hand and pressed it flat against her breast and held it there. Between the hand and her heart was only the thin fabric of her blouse. After a moment, she slipped the hand inside the blouse, and the heart quickened and became urgent, pounding in his palm.

  “Darling,” she said, “the bartender was wrong, wasn’t he? I’ve been good for you, haven’t I?”

  “You’ve been good for me for almost a week.”

  “Did you like it out on Long Island? Did you think it was good on Orient Point?”

  “I liked it on Long Island. Especially on Orient Point. You told me how it would be, and that’s the way it was.”

  “Was it better on Long Island or is it better now in Connecticut?”

  “I don’t know. How can you say one time in one place is better than another time in another place when they’re both as good as they can be?”

  “No, no. Surely one is a little better than the other. Nothing is exactly the same as something else.”

  “On Long Island I think it’s better, and in Connecticut I think it’s better. Whichever place we are.”

  “That’s good. You’ve said exactly the right thing, for it means that right now is best of all so far. Darling, it’s really becoming quite dark. Do you think we could be seen if anyone happened to come along unexpectedly?”

  “I think we could.”

  “Well, I don’t believe I can continue to lie here like this much longer.” “We could go inside.”

  “It would be a shame to have to. It’s much nicer outside.” “Would you like to take a walk until it becomes darker?” “Walk to wher
e?”

  “Just down to the fence. We could lean against it for a while and be part of the stigmata. A split-rail fence needs someone leaning against it.” “What’s stigmata? I don’t like the sound of it”

  “It’s all right. Stigmata are the things you find around a certain place that are characteristic.” “Really? I thought it meant something bad.”

  “You’re thinking of stigmas. That’s different. Stigmas are marks of disgrace or something like that.”

  “All right, then. We’ll be stigmata. First, however, I think we should have a Martini. We’ve sat here for quite a long while without having any at all.”

  “I’ll mix some. The shaker’s empty.”

  “If you get up to mix the Martinis, you’ll have to take your hand away from where it is. I’m not certain that I want you to do that.” “Not even for a Martini?”

  “Well, I suppose one can’t have everything all the time. After all, mixing Martinis isn’t anything permanent. It’s only a temporary interruption at worst.”

  “True. I’ll mix them.”

  He got up and walked a few steps to a table that was nothing more than a thick circle of clear glass on wrought iron legs. The shaker and bottles and glasses and a bucket of ice were on the table. He mixed the Martinis in the shaker and poured two into two glasses and carried the glasses over to the chaises longues.

  “I’m not as good at this as Yancy,” he said, handing her one of the two.

  “Yancy’s a superior bartender,” she said, “and he makes superior Martinis, but his judgment isn’t always reliable as to who’s good for whom.”

  “That’s right. Yancy’s mortal and therefore he is fallible.”

  He resumed his place on the longue, and she replaced his hand, and they drank the Martinis slowly, and it got a little darker.

  “Are these all the Martinis?” she said.

  “No. I thought it was as easy to mix four as two, and that’s what I did.” “That’s the way I usually think about it. It seems a shame to waste the energy and the space in the shaker.” “Shall I pour the other two?”

  “Yes, pour them. After drinking them, we’ll walk down to the fence and be stigmata, and then it will surely be dark.”