Jane Bowles - My Sister's Hand in Mine - The Collected Works of Jane Bowles

“I think that would be nice,” said Miss Goering.

“Well,” he said, “It’s almost an hour’s drive there in a car. I have to go now to see someone here in town, but I’ll be back in half a hour or so; if you want some steak you better be here too.”

“All right, I will,” said Miss Goering.

He had not been gone more than a few minutes when Andy arrived. He had both hands in his pockets and his coat collar turned up. He was looking down at his feet.

“Lord God Almighty!” Miss Goering said to herself. “I have to break the news to him right away and I have not seen him so dejected in a week.”

“What on earth happened to you?” she asked him.

“I have been to a movie, giving myself a little lesson in self-control.”

“What does that mean?”

“I mean that I was upset; my soul was turned inside out this morning and I had but two choices, to drink and continue drinking or to go to a movie. I chose the latter.”

“But you still look terribly morose.”

“I am less morose. I am just showing the results of the terrific fight that I have waged inside of myself, and you know that the face of victory often resembles the face of defeat.”

“Victory fades so quickly that it is scarcely apparent and it is always the face of defeat that we are able to see,” said Miss Goering. She did not want to tell him, in front of Frank, that she was leaving, because she was certain that Frank would know where she was going. “Andy,” she said, “would you mind coming across the street with me, to the ice-cream parlor? I have something that I want to talk to you about.”

“All right,” said Andy rather more casually than Miss Goering had expected. “But I want to come back right away for a drink.”

They went across the street to the little ice-cream parlor and sat down at a table opposite each other. There was no one in the store with the exception of themselves and the boy who served the customers. He nodded at them when they came in.

“Back again?” he said to Miss Goering. “That old man sure waited for you a long time this morning.”

“Yes,” said Miss Goering, “it was dreadful.”

“Well, you gave him a flower, anyway, when you left. He must have been tickled about that.”

Miss Goering did not answer him as she had very little time to waste.

“Andy,” she said, “I’m going in a few minutes to a place that’s about an hour away from here and I probably won’t be coming back for quite some time.”

Andy seemed to understand the situation immediately. Miss Goering sat back and waited while he pressed his palms tighter and tighter to his temples.

Finally he looked up at her. “You,” he said, “as a decent human being, cannot do this to me.”

“Well, I’m afraid I can, Andy. I have my own star to follow, you know.”

“But do you know,” said Andy, “how beautiful and delicate a man’s heart is when he is happy for the first time? It is like the thin ice that has imprisoned those beautiful young plants that are released when the ice thaws.”

“You have read that in some poem,” said Miss Goering.

“Does that make it any the less beautiful?”

“No,” said Miss Goering, “I admit that it is a very beautiful thought.”

“You don’t dare tear the plant up now that you have melted the ice.”

“Oh, Andy,” said Miss Goering, “you make me sound so dreadful! I am merely working out something for myself.”

“You have no right to,” said Andy. “You’re not alone in the world. You’ve involved yourself with me!” He was growing more excited perhaps because he realized that it was useless saying anything to Miss Goering at all.

“I’ll get down on my knees,” said Andy, shaking his fist at her. No sooner had he said this than he was down on his knees near her feet. The waiter was terribly shocked and felt that he had better say something.

“Look, Andy,” he said in a very small voice, “Why don’t you get up off your knees and think things over?”

“Because,” said Andy, raising his own voice more and more, “because she daren’t refuse a man who is down on his knees. She daren’t! It would be sacrilege.”

“I don’t see why,” said Miss Goering.

“If you refuse,” said Andy, “I’ll disgrace you, I’ll crawl out into the street, I’ll put you to shame.”

“I really have no sense of shame,” said Miss Goering, “and I think your own sense of shame is terribly exaggerated, besides being a terrific sap on your energies. Now I must go, Andy. Please get up.”

“You’re crazy,” said Andy. “You’re crazy and monstrous— really. Monstrous. You are committing a monstrous act.”

“Well,” said Miss Goering, “perhaps my maneuvers do seem a little strange, but I have thought for a long time now that often, so very often, heroes who believe themselves to be monsters because they are so far removed from other men turn around much later and see really monstrous acts being committed in the name of something mediocre.”

“Lunatic!” Andy yelled at her from his knees. “You’re not even a Christian.”

Miss Goering hurried out of the ice-cream parlor after having kissed Andy lightly on the head, because she realized that if she did not leave him very quickly she would miss her appointment. As a matter of fact, she had judged correctly, because her friend was just coming out of the saloon when she arrived.

“Are you coming out with me?” he said. “I got through a little sooner than I thought and I decided I wasn’t going to wait around, because I didn’t think you’d come.”

“But,” said Miss Goering, “I accepted your invitation. Why didn’t you think I’d come?”

“Don’t get excited,” said the man. “Come on, let’s get in the car.”

As they drove past the ice-cream parlor on their way out of town, Miss Goering looked through the window to see if she could catch a glimpse of Andy. To her surprise, she saw that the store was filled with people, so that they overflowed into the street and quite crowded the sidewalk, and she was unable really to see into the store at all.

The man was sitting in front with the chauffeur, who was not in uniform, and she was sitting alone in the back seat. This arrangement had surprised her at first, but she was pleased. She understood shortly why he had arranged the seating in this manner. Soon after they had left the town behind them he turned around and said to her:

“I’m going to sleep now. I’m more comfortable up here because I don’t bounce around so much. You can talk to the chauffeur if you want.”

“I don’t think I care to talk with anyone,” said Miss Goering.

“Well, do whatever the hell you want,” he said. “I don’t want to be waked up until those steaks are on the grill.” He promptly pulled his hat down over his eyes and went to sleep.

As they drove on, Miss Goering felt sadder and lonelier than she had ever felt before in her life. She missed Andy and Arnold and Miss Gamelon and the old man with all her heart and very soon she was weeping silently in the back of the car. It was only with a tremendous exertion of her will that she refrained from opening the door and leaping out into the road.

They passed through several small towns and at last, just at Miss Goering was dozing off, they arrived in a medium-sized city.

“This is the town we were heading for,” said the chauffeur, assuming that Miss Goering had been watching the road impatiently. It was a noisy town and there were many tramways all heading in different directions. Miss Goering was astonished that the noise did not awaken her friend in the front seat. They soon left the center of town, although they were still in the city proper when they drove up in front of an apartment building. The chauffeur had quite a difficult time awakening his employer, but at last he succeeded by yelling the man’s own address close to his ear.