Part 59 (1/2)

He stepped into the foyer and kissed her. Her eyes were wide and looked up at him. ”Did you have a chance to talk to Peter yet?” he asked.

She took his hat and led him into the living room. She shook her head hopelessly. ”No.” She turned and looked up at him. ”He won't let anyone talk to him about you. He won't listen. I told Mamma, but it didn't help. He won't let her talk either. He says he doesn't want to hear any more about either you or Mark.”

He sank into a chair and lit a cigarette. ”The stubborn old fool! This is a h.e.l.l of a time for him to get his Dutch up.” He looked up at her. ”What about us?” he asked.

She looked down at him. ”What about us, Johnny?”

”Are we getting married or aren't we?” His voice was savage.

She put a hand on his cheek. ”We'll have to wait, Johnny,” she said softly. ”It would only make him feel worse.”

He caught her hand and held it. ”I'm getting tired of waiting.”

She looked down at him without answering. Her eyes pleaded for his patience.

”What are you doing here?” Peter's voice came roaring at him from the doorway.

Johnny looked at him startled. Peter's eyes were wild in his face. ”I came to see if I could knock some sense into your thick Dutch head!”

Peter came toward him. His voice was shrill and shaking. ”Get out of my house, you Judas, you!”

Johnny got to his feet. He held his hands placatingly in front of him. ”Peter, why don't you listen to reason? You ought to know I would-”

Peter interrupted him. ”Don't give me no lying explanations! I know what you done!” He turned to Doris. ”Did you ask him to come here?” he asked accusingly.

”She didn't,” Johnny answered before she could speak. ”It was my idea. We had some things to settle.”

Peter turned back to him. ”Some things to settle,” he sneered. ”You trying to turn her against me too? Ain't it enough what you done? Ain't you satisfied?”

”We want to get married,” Johnny insisted stubbornly.

Peter looked up at him. ”Marry you?” His voice was sharp with amazement. ”Doris marry you? You anti-Semite? Sooner I would be she was dead! Gedt oudt before I throw you oudt!”

”Papa”-Doris put her arm on Peter's-”you got to listen to Johnny! He didn't sell you out. He pledged the stock for-”

”Shut up!” Peter shouted at her. ”If you go with him, I'm through with you. If you go with him, you turn against your own people, your own flesh and blood! Don't you think I knew that all these years he was jealous of me? Scheming behind my back to steal the company away from me? When I look back and think what a fool I was to trust him, I could cry. He was no better than the others! They hate the Jews! All of them! And he's no better than the rest! Now he's trying to turn you against me too!”

She stared at her father helplessly. Her eyes filled with tears. She turned to Johnny.

His face was a blank stony mask. Slowly, woodenly, he turned from her to her father. ”You won't listen,” he said bitterly. ”And if you did, you wouldn't believe. You're an old man, bitter inside and eaten with your own poisons. But you're not too old to learn some day that you could be wrong!” He picked up his hat and walked slowly to the door. He turned and looked back at Doris.

Esther brushed past him into the room. He didn't even notice her. There were tears in his eyes, burning at his eyelids. His voice shook as he spoke, ”Doris, are you coming with me?” There was a note of pleading in it that had never been there before.

She shook her head and moved closer to her father and mother. Her mother reached up and took her hand.

He stood there for a long while, looking at her. At last Peter's voice came savagely to his ears.

”Go!” it was saying savagely. ”Go! What are you waiting for? You can see she's not coming. Go back to your friends, your sneaking, underhanded partners! You think you can trust them? Depend on them? You'll find out otherwise. Some day they will get you and throw you out too. When they don't need you any more. Like you did when you decided you didn't need me!”

The tears filled Johnny's eyes, blinding him, but the voice still tore savagely at his ears.

”You were laughing, hah? This simple little hardware man from Rochester you would turn into a picture man? You would make him over and do what you want with him, and when you didn't need him any more, you would get rid of him? I should have known better. I trusted you, but all the time you were laughing at me. Because all the time you made me think it was my business when it was really yours! So you had your fun with the little Jew from Rochester and now it's over. You can be very proud of yourself. You had me fooled all the time. But now it's over and you can go. There's nothing more you can get from me!” Peter's voice broke and he began to cry.

Johnny took several steps toward him. Peter's face looked at him, his voice was suddenly old and broken.

”Why did you do it, Johnny?” he asked quietly. ”Why? Why did you wait and do it like this when all the time all you had to do was come to me and say: 'Peter, I don't need you any more. The business has outgrown you.' Don't you think I didn't know it?” He closed his eyes wearily. ”If you had come to me yourself, I would have turned the whole business over to you. I didn't need the money or the struggle any more. I had enough of it in my life!”

His voice seemed to grow stronger. It was cold and bitter. ”But no! You had to do it your way! With a knife in my back!”

For a long moment they looked into each other's eyes. It seemed almost that they were alone in the room. Johnny searched Peter's eyes for a glimmer of warmth. They were hard and implacable.

He looked at Doris, then at Esther. Their faces were filled with pity for him. ”Give him time,” they seemed to be saying, ”give him time!”

At last he turned and silently walked out the door. He closed it behind him. His heart seemed to turn to lead within him as he walked down the hall to the elevator. He looked back at their door and he could feel the tears flaming behind his eyelids.

The sound of the elevator coming up reached his ears. Grimly his face settled into thin masklike lines. His lips tightened as he put his hat on his head.

The elevator door opened and he stepped into it. Thirty years. Thirty long years. Half a lifetime to reach something like this.

AFTERMATH.

1938.

SUNDAY AND MONDAY.

We left at six thirty in the morning and had breakfast and lunch on the road. It was two o'clock and the bright s.h.i.+ning sun was hanging in the sky over our heads as we turned up the narrow dirt road that led to the ranch house. Some men in the fields straightened up to look at us. Their faces brown and curious under the broad-brimmed straw hats they wore to keep the sun from their heads. A few minutes later we pulled to a stop in front of the house.

A man came out on the porch to look at us and see who we were. He was a big man with a round face and dark hair. I knew him. Vic Guido.

I got out of the car and walked to the porch. ”h.e.l.lo, Vic,” I called to him.

He took a heavy-rimmed pair of gla.s.ses from his s.h.i.+rt pocket and put them on and peered at me. ”Johnny Edge!” he exclaimed without enthusiasm. ”What are you doing out here?”

I walked back to the car and held the door open for Doris to get out as I answered him. ”I thought I'd take a run out here and see your boss,” I said casually. ”Where is he?”

He looked down at us for a moment before he answered. ”He's out in the back near the old carnival wagon watching a bocca game,” he replied. ”Do you want me to show you the way?” he added surlily.

”No, thanks.” I smiled up at him. ”I know where to find it.”

He didn't answer, just turned around and went back into the house silently.

”That man always gives me the creeps.” Doris shuddered.