ROBBINS Harold - The Carpetbaggers

The elevator stopped and the door rolled open. We stepped out into a clean hospital corridor. I dragged deeply on the cigarette as I followed the nurse. She stopped in front of a door. "I'm afraid you'll have to put out that cigarette, Mr. Cord."

I looked up at a small orange sign:

I took another drag and put it out in a receptacle next to the door. I stood there, suddenly afraid to go inside. The nurse reached around me and opened the door. "You may go in now, Mr. Cord."

The door swung open, revealing a small anteroom. Another nurse was seated in an armchair, reading a magazine. She looked up at me. "Come in, Mr. Cord," she said in a falsely cheerful tone. "We've been expecting you."

I crossed the threshold slowly. I heard the door close behind me and the footsteps of my escort disappearing. There was another door opposite the entrance. The nurse crossed to it. "Miss Marlowe's in here," she said.

I stood in the doorway. At first, I couldn't see her. Ilene Gaillard, a doctor and another nurse were standing next to the bed, their backs toward me. Then, as if activated by some signal, they all turned at once. I walked toward the bed. The nurse moved away and Ilene and the doctor separated slightly to make room for me. Then I saw her.

A clear plastic tent was suspended over her head and shoulders and she seemed to be sleeping. All but her face was completely covered with a heavy white bandage, which hid all her shining white-blond hair. Her eyes were closed and I could see a faint blue tinge under the flesh of the lids. The skin was drawn tightly across her high cheekbones, leaving a hollow around her sunken cheeks, so that you had the feeling that the flesh beneath had disappeared. Her wide mouth, usually so warm and vivid, was pale and drawn back slightly from her even white teeth.

I stood there silently for a moment. I couldn't see her breathe. I looked at the doctor. He shook his head. "She's alive, Mr. Cord," he whispered, "but just barely."

"May I speak to her?"

"You can try, Mr. Cord. But don't be disappointed if she doesn't answer. She's been like this for the last ten hours. And if she should answer, Mr. Cord, she may not recognize you."

I turned back to her. "Rina," I said quietly. "It's me, Jonas."

She lay there quietly, not moving. I put my hand under the plastic tent and found hers. I pressed it. It felt cool and soft. Suddenly everything came to a wild stop inside me. Her hand was cool. She was already dead. She was dead.

I sank to my knees beside the bed. I pushed the plastic aside and leaned over her. "Please, Rina!" I begged wildly. "It's me, Jonas. Please, don't die!"

I felt a slight pressure from her hand. I looked down at her, the tears streaming down my cheeks. The movement of her hand grew a little stronger. Then her eyes opened slowly and she was looking up into my face.

At first, her eyes were vague and far away. Then they cleared and her lips curved into a semblance of a smile. "Jonas," she whispered. "I knew you'd come."

"All you ever had to do was whistle."

Her lips pursed but no sound came out. "I never could learn to whistle," she whispered.

The doctor's voice came from behind me. "You'd better get some rest now, Miss Marlowe."

Rina's eyes went past my shoulder to him. "No," she whispered. "Please. I haven't much time left. Let me speak to Jonas."

I turned to look at the doctor. "All right," he said. "But just for a moment."

I heard the door click behind me, then I looked down at Rina. Her hand lifted slightly and stroked my cheek. I caught her fingers and pressed them to my lips.

"I had to see you, Jonas."

"Why did you wait so long, Rina?"

"That's why I had to see you," she whispered. "To explain."

"What good are explanations now?"

"Please try to understand, Jonas. I loved you from the moment I first saw you. But I was afraid. I've been a jinx to everyone who ever loved me. My mother and my brother died because they loved me. My father died of a broken heart in prison."

"That wasn't your fault."

"I pushed Margaret down the stairs and killed her. I killed my baby even before it was born, stole Nevada's career from him, and Claude committed suicide because of what I was doing to him."

"Those things just happened. You weren't to blame."

"I was!" she insisted hoarsely. "Look what I did to you, to your marriage. I should never have come to your hotel that night."

"That was my fault. I made you."

"Nobody made me," she whispered. "I came because I wanted to. When she came, I knew how wrong I was."

"Why?" I asked bitterly. "Just because she had a belly way out to here? It wasn't even my child."

"What difference does that make? What if she did sleep with someone else before she met you? You must have known it when you married her. If it didn't matter then, why should it have mattered just because she was going to have his child?"

"It did matter," I insisted. "All she was interested in was my money. What about the half-million-dollar settlement she got when the marriage was annulled?"

"That's not true," she whispered. "She loved you. I could tell from the hurt I saw in her eyes. And if the money was so important to her, why did she give it all to her father?"

"I didn't know that."

"There's a lot you don't know," Rina whispered. "But I haven't time to tell you. Only this. I ruined your marriage. It's my fault that poor child is growing up without your name. And I want to make it up to her somehow."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "There may not be much left in my estate," she whispered. "I've never been much good with money, but I've left it all to her and appointed you my executor. Promise me you'll see that she gets it."

I looked down at her. "I promise."

She smiled slowly. "Thank you, Jonas. I always could count on you."

"Now try to rest a little."

"What for?" she whispered. "So I can live another few days in the mad, crazy world that's running around in my head? No, Jonas. It hurts too much. I want to die. But don't let me die here, locked up in this plastic tent. Take me out on the terrace. Let me look at the sky once more."

I stared at her. The doctor- "

"Please, Jonas."

I looked down at her and she smiled. I smiled back and pushed the oxygen tent aside. I scooped her up in my arms and she was as light as a feather.

"It feels good to be in your arms again, Jonas," she whispered.

I kissed her on the forehead and stepped out into the sunlight. "I'd almost forgotten how green a tree can be," she whispered. "Back in Boston, there's the greenest oak tree you ever saw in your life. Please take me back there, Jonas."

"I will."

"And don't let them make a circus out of it," she whispered. "They can do that in this business."

"I know," I said.

"There's room for me, Jonas," she whispered. "Next to my father."

Her hand fell from my chest and a new kind of weight came into her body. I looked down at her. Her face was hidden against my shoulder. I turned and looked out at the tree that had reminded her of home. But I couldn't see it for my tears.

When I turned around, Ilene and the doctor were in the room. Silently I carried Rina back to the bed and gently laid her down on it. I straightened up and looked at them.

I tried to speak but for a moment, I couldn't. And when I could, my voice was hoarse with my grief. "She wanted to die in the sunlight," I said.

I looked at the minister, whose lips were moving silently as he read from the tiny black-bound Bible in his hands. He looked up for a moment, then closed the Bible and started slowly down the walk. A moment later, the others began to follow him and soon Ilene and I were the only ones left at the grave.