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

Miss Goering was waiting on the sidewalk, standing first on one foot and then on the other. She noticed that there was a little garden that ran the length of one side of the apartment house. It was planted with evergreen trees and bushes, all of small dimensions because it was obvious that both the garden and the apartment house were very new. A string of barbed wire surrounded the garden and there was a dog trying to crawl under it. “I’ll go put the car away, Ben,” said the chauffeur.

Ben got out of the car and pushed Miss Goering ahead of him into the lobby of the apartment.

“Fake Spanish,” Miss Goering said more to herself than to Ben.

“This isn’t fake Spanish,” he said glumly, “this is real Spanish.”

Miss Goering laughed a little. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I have been to Spain.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Ben. “Anyhow, this is real Spanish, every inch of it.”

Miss Goering looked around her at the walls, which were made of yellow stucco and ornamented with niches and clusters of tiny columns.

Together they entered a tiny automatic elevator and Miss Goering’s heart nearly failed her. Her companion pressed a button, but the elevator remained stationary.

“I could tear the man to pieces who made this gadget,” he said, stamping on the floor.

“Oh, please,” said Miss Goering, “please let me out.”

He paid no attention to her, but stamped even harder than before, and pressed on the button over and over again as though the fear in her voice had excited him. At last the elevator started to rise. Miss Goering hid her face in her hands. They reached the second floor, where the elevator stopped, and they got out. They waited together in front of one of three doors that opened on a narrow hall.

“Jim has the keys with him,” said Ben; “he’ll be up in a minute. I hope you understand that we won’t go dancing or any nonsense. I can’t stand what people call fun.”

“Oh, I love all that,” said Miss Goering. “Fundamentally I am a light-hearted person. That is, I enjoy all the things that light-hearted people enjoy.”

Ben yawned.

“He’s never going to listen to me,” Miss Goering said to herself.

* * *

Presently the chauffeur returned with the keys and let them into the apartment. The living-room was small and unattractive. Someone had left an enormous bundle in the middle of the floor. Through some rents in the paper Miss Goering could see that the bundle contained a pretty pink quilt. She felt a little heartened at the sight of the quilt and asked Ben whether or not he had chosen it himself. Without answering her question he called to the chauffeur, who had gone into the kitchen adjoining the living-room. The door between the two rooms was open, and Miss Goering could see the chauffeur standing next to the sink in his hat and coat and slowly unwrapping the steaks.

“I told you to see that they called for that damn blanket,” Ben shouted to him.

“I forgot.”

“Then carry one of those reminder pads with you and pull it out of your pocket once in a while. You can buy one at the corner.”

Ben threw himself down on the couch next to Miss Goering, who had seated herself, and put his hand on her knee.

“Why? Don’t you want the quilt now that you have bought it?” Miss Goering asked him.

“I didn’t buy it. That girl who was here with me last week bought it, to throw over us in bed.”

“And you don’t like the color?”

“I don’t like a lot of extra stuff hanging around.”

He sat brooding for a few minutes and Miss Goering, whose heart began to beat much too quickly each time that he lapsed into silence, searched her mind for another question to ask.

“You’re not fond of discussions,” she said to him.

“You mean talking?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“You say too much when you talk,” he answered absently.

“Well, aren’t you anxious to find out about people?”

He shook his head. “I don’t need to find out about people, and, what’s more important, they don’t need to find out about me.” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Well,” she said a little breathlessly, “there must be something you like.”

“I like women a lot and I like to make money if I can make it quickly.” Without warning he jumped to his feet and pulled Miss Goering up with him, grabbing hold of her wrist rather roughly. “While he’s finishing the steaks let’s go inside for a minute.”

“Oh, please,” Miss Goering pleaded, “I’m so tired. Let’s rest here a little before dinner.”

“All right,” said Ben. “I’m going to my room and stretch out till the steaks are cooked. I like them overdone.”

While he was gone, Miss Goering sat on the couch pulling at her sweating fingers. She was torn between an almost overwhelming desire to bolt out of the room and a sickening compulsion to remain where she was.

“I do hope,” she said to herself, “that the steaks will be ready before I have a chance to decide.”

However, by the time the chauffeur awakened Ben to announce that the steaks were cooked, Miss Goering had decided that it was absolutely necessary for her to stay.

They sat together around a small folding table and ate in silence. They had barely finished their meal when the telephone rang. Ben answered, and when he had finished his conversation he told Miss Goering and Jim that they were all three of them going into the city. The chauffeur looked at him knowingly.

“It doesn’t take long from here,” said Ben, pulling on his coat. He turned to Miss Goering. “We are going to a restaurant,” he said to her. “You’ll sit patient at a separate table while I talk business with some friends. If it gets terribly late you and me will spend the night in the city at a hotel where I always go, downtown. Jim will drive the car back out and sleep here. Now is everything understood by everybody?”

“Perfectly,” said Miss Goering, who was naturally delighted that they were leaving the apartment.

* * *

The restaurant was not very gay. It was in a large square room on the first floor of an old house. Ben led her to a table near the wall and told her to sit down.

“Every now and then you can order something,” he said, and went over to three men who were standing at a makeshift bar improvised of thin strips of wood and papier-mâché.

The guests were nearly all men, and Miss Goering noticed that there were no distinguished faces among them, although not one of them was shabbily dressed. The three men to whom Ben was talking were ugly and even brutal-looking. Presently she saw Ben make a sign to a woman who was seated not far from her own table. She went and spoke to him and then walked quickly over to Miss Goering’s table.

“He wants you to know he’s going to be here a long time, maybe over two hours. I am supposed to get you what you want. Would you like some spaghetti or a sandwich? I’ll get you whichever you want.”

“No, thank you,” said Miss Goering. “But won’t you sit down and have a drink with me?”

“To tell you the truth, I won’t,” said the woman, “although I thank you very much.” She hesitated a moment before saying good-by. “Of course, I would like to have you come over to our table and join us, but the situation is hard to explain. Most of us here are close friends, and when we see each other we tell each other everything that has happened.”

“I understand,” said Miss Goering, who was rather sad to see her leave because she did not fancy sitting alone for two or three hours. Although she was not anxious to be in Ben’s company, the suspense of waiting all that time with so little to distract her was almost unbearable. It occurred to her that she might possibly telephone to a friend and ask her to come and have a drink at the restaurant. “Certainly,” she thought. “Ben can’t object to my having a little chat with another woman.” Anna and Mrs. Copperfield were the only two people she knew well enough to invite on such short notice. Of the two she preferred Mrs. Copperfield and thought her the most likely to accept such an invitation. But she was not certain that Mrs. Copperfield had returned yet from her trip through Central America. She called the waiter and requested that he take her to the phone. After asking a few questions he showed her into a drafty hall and called the number for her. She was successful in reaching her friend, who was terribly excited the moment she heard Miss Goering’s voice.