Бетти Смит - Maggie-Now

"Yes, Mother."

"In due time, a nurse will visit you and examine the premises. If her report is satisfactory, your application will be accepted."

"Thank you, Mother."

The mother pressed a buzzer and a nun came in and took the application and went out again. Without looking up, Mother Vincent de Paul said: "Whatever became of your horse?"

"My horse, Mother? ' gasped the girl, astonished.

"Drummer."

"Why, gone I guess, Mother," she said, bewildered.

The mother looked up at her. "I used to know Sister Mary Joseph," she explained. She smiled; Maggie-Now smiled back. "God bless you, my child."

Maggie-Now rode home on the trolley with Father Flynn. The priest read from his little black-bound book and Maggie-Now beamed happily at all the people in the car.

The nurse came in due time. She was a middle-aged woman in a tailored suit. She had a large black handbag from which she extracted a little book and a pencil.

Maggie-Now, who had continually scrubbed, polished and painted the "nursery" while [54 1

waiting for the nurse to call, greeted the woman cordially.

"Will you have a cup of coffee?" asked.

"O-o-oh, no!" said the nurse with a rising and falling inflection. Her tone implied that she ~ ouldn't be bribed.

"Excuse me," said Maggie-Now, embarrassed.

The nurse made a thorough inspection of everything.

She asked how the nursery room was heated. Maggie-Now explained that, since it opened off the front room, it was heated by the parlor stove. The nurse made a notation.

Maggie-Now started to worry. Finally the nurse put her book and pencil away, straightened her coat and said: "Now, I'll have that cup of coffee."

Maggie-Now knew it was all right, then.

Maggie-Now waited: one week, two weeks, three weeks…. Then Father Flynn came to see her. "Margaret,"

he said, "I've had a conference with Mother Vincent de Paul." He saw worry lines deepen in her forehead. "The home nurse turned in her report on your premises." She held her breath. "The word 'Immaculate' appeared four times in her report." Maggie-Now relaxed. "However,"

again the worried lines appeared on her forehead, "Mother and I agreed to put off giving you the children until spring."

"Why, Father, oh, why? ' she pleaded.

"Your husband will be returning soon. He knows nothing of the foster children. It may be hard for him to adjust. . then, the children will not have had time to be adjusted to the home and you. There may be emotional strain. In the spring, when he has gone, you will have the children. You'll have the spring, summer and fall, and when your husband visits you. . returns in the following fall, you will have become accustomed to the children, there will be a settled routine…."

She was badly disappoints d but she saw the logic of the matter.

"You can w air, Margaret " he asked.

"I can wait," she said.

It was just as well. One morning after breakfast, instead of leaving for work, Pat settle d himself in the chair by the front windoNv.

"Aren't you working today, Papa?" she asked.

"Me working days is over. I put in me full time and today I

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start me retirement. Today I start drawing me pension."

Her first foolish thought was. Now I don't have to wash those heavy, dirty uniforms any more. She said: "But, Papa, you didn't tell me."

"Must I tell you everything?" he said.

"But, Papa, you're still young, just a little over fifty.

What are you going to do with yourself all day?"

"Rest!" he said.

And he did. He slept late and Maggie-Now had to make a separate and lavish breakfast for him at ten in the morning. Then he sat by the window in his stocl.ing feet, getting up only to go to the bathroom and tr, eat lunch, which now had to be dinner with meat, vegetables and potatoes instead of a simple lunch. After dinner he napped on the couch in the front room, and if she so much as turned on the tap to get a glass of water he shouted for quiet. After his nap, he took up his useless vigil at the window. When she came into the room, he asked her what she wanted now.

Maggie-Now was almost a prisoner. She had been used to having the house to herself most of the day. While dressing, she had often walked out to the kitchen in her slip to check on something that was cooking. Now she could never leave her bedroom unless she Was fully dressed. When she went out, he asked her where she was going. When she came back, he examined her purchases and criticized the price she had paid and claimed she was cheated. When Denny went out, he gave him hell when he came back. When he stayed home, he asked what the hell he was hanging around the house for. In short, he was a pest.

When November came, Maggie-Now started to worry.

Claude would be home soon, and with her father in the house all day, feuding with Claude, life would be intolerable. Claude would leave after a few days, she knew. She remembered the Christmas pipe incident.

One night she said: "Papa, when Claude comes you must go and board at Mrs. O'Crawl~ y's while he's here."

"Oh, no, me girl."

"Yes, Papa. I mean it. You and Claude just don't get along. And for the little time that he's here. ."

"I won't leave this house," he shouted, "till I'm carried out feet first! So help me God!"

[,4-'] It was the last week in November. The newspaper forecast snow for the next day. As Pat got up from the supper table, Maggie-Now said: "Papa, Claude will be coming back most any night now and. ."

"And I'll throw him out the minute he steps foot in me door," he said.

She ignored that. "So I went over to Mrs. O'Crawley's today and rented a room for you " "What!" he roared.

"A nice room and she likes you so much she's only asking seven dollars a week for room and board. And little Mick Mack can hardly wait. You can come back again when Claude leaves."

Pat made a terrible, hoarse cry. He tore open his shirt and gasped and his face turned purple. He spun around and would have fallen if Maggie-Now hadn't caught him.

"Run, Denny. Run for the doctor! No, wait! Let's get him to bed first." They got him into the hall but couldn't get him up the stairs. "My room! My room!" gasped Maggie-Now. They put him in Maggie-Now's dainty bed.

"Now, get the doctor and hurry."

"No doctor," gasped Pat "Too late. The priest! The priest! I want the priest! The priest!" he gasped faintly.

When Father Flynn arrived, a pale Maggie-Now with smudges under her eyes greeted the priest with a lighted candle. She genuflected and preceded him into the house.

She took him into the room. He looked around with a glance of approval. Everything was in order. Pat lay pale and still in a clean nightshirt. She had washed his face and hands and feet. There was a clean linen towel on the bed table. On it stood a crucifix with a lighted candle on either side. There was a vial of holy water, a dish of salt, a saucer with clean bits of cotton for the holy oil, a tumbler of water and all the necessary things. There was a cushion on the floor at the head of the bed for the priest to kneel on. Father Flynn placed his small black leather bag and the Host on the cleared dressing table.

"Leave us, my daughter," he said. Maggie-Now left, walking backward out of the room, still holding the lighted candle.

Father Flynn performed the solemn last rites of the church. When it was all over, Pat said weakly, "I would not be calling