John Irving - The Cider House Rules

Homer said to Olive Worthington: 'I have to leave, especially with Christmas coming, and all those memories -but the:re is something, and someone, I've been neglecting. It's really all of them at Saint Cloud's-nothing changes there. They always need the same things, and now that there's a war, and everyone is making; an effort {508} for the war, I think Saint Cloud's is more forgotten than ever. And Doctor Larch isn't getting any younger. should be of more use than I am here. With the harvest over, I don't feel I have enough to do. At Saint Cloud's, there's always too much to do.'

'You're a fine young man,' said Olive Worthington, but Homer hung his head. He remembered what Mr Rochester said to Jane Eyre:

'Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre: remorse is the poison of life.'

It was an early November morning in the kitchen at Ocean View; Olive had not done her hair or put her makeup on. The gray in the light, and in her face and in her hair, made Mrs. Worthington look older to Homer. She was using the string of her tea bag to wring the last of the tea from the bag, and Homer could not raise his eyes from the ropy, knotted veins in the backs of her hands. She had always smoked too much, and in the morning she always coughed.

'Candy is coming with me,' said Homer Wells.

'Candy is a fine young woman,' Olive said. 'It is most unselfish of you both-when you could be enjoying yourselves -to give comfort and companionship to unwanted children.' The string across the belly of the tea bag was so taut that Homer thought it would slice through the bag. Olive's voice was so formal that she might have been speaking at an awards ceremony, describing the heroism that was worthy of prizes. She was trying her hardest not to cough. When the string tore the tea bag, some of the wet leaves stuck to the yolk of her uneaten soft-boiled egg, which was perched in a china egg cup that Homer Wells had once mistaken for a candlestick holder.

'I could never thank you enough for everything you've done for me,' Homer said. Olive Worthington just shook her head; her shoulders were squared, her chin up, the straightness of her back was formidable. 'I'm so sorry about Wally,' said Homer Wells. There was the slightest {509} movement in Olive's throat, but the muscles of her neck were rigid.

'He's just missing,' Olive said.

'Right,' said Homer Wells. He put his hand on Olive's shoulder. She gave no indication that the presence of his hand was either a burden or a comfort, but after they remained like that for a while, she turned her face enough to rest her cheek on top of his hand; there they remained for a while longer, as if posing for a painter of the old school-or for a photographer who was waiting for the unlikely; for the November sun to come out.

Olive insisted that he take the white Cadillac.

'Well,' Ray said to Candy and to Homer, 'I think it's good for you both that you stick together.' Ray was disappointed that neither Homer nor Candy acknowledged his observation with any enthusiasm; as the Cadillac was leaving the lobster pound parking lot, Ray called out to them: 'And try havin' some fun together!' Somehow, he doubted that they had heard him.

Who goes to St. Cloud's to have fun?

I have not really been adopted, thought Homer Wells. I am not really betraying Mrs. Worthington; she never said she was my mother. Even so, Homer and Candy did not talk a lot on the drive.

On their journey inland, the farther north they drove, the more the leaves had abandoned the trees; there was a little snow in Skowhegan, where the ground resembled an old man's face in need of a shave. There was more snow in Rlanchard and in East Moxie and in Moxie Gore, and they had to wait an hour in Ten Thousand Acre Tract where a tree was down-across the road. The snow had drifted over the tree, the smashed shape of which resembled a toppled dinosaur. In Moose River and in Misery Gore, and in Tomhegan, too, the snow had come to stay. The drifts along the roadside were shorn so sharply by the plow-and they stood so hig,h-that Candy and Homer could detect the presence of a house only by chimney smoke, or by the narrow paths chopped {510} through the drifts that were here and there stained by the territorial pissing of dogs.

Olive and Ray and Meany Hyde had given them extra gas coupons. They had decided to take the car because they thought that it would be nice to have a means to get away from St. Cloud's-if only for short drives-but by the time they reached Black Rapids and Homer had put the chains on the rear tires, they realized that the winter roads (and this was only the beginning of the winter)! would make most driving impossible.

If they had asked him, Dr Larch would have saved them the trouble of bringing the car. He would have said that no one comes to St. Cloud's for the purpose of taking little trips away from it; he would have suggested, for fun, that they could always take the train to Three Mile Falls.

With the bad roads and the failing light and the snow that began to fall after Ellenville, it was already dark when they reached St. Cloud's. The headlights of the white Cadillac, climbing the hill past the girls' division, illuminated two women walking down the hill toward the railroad station-their faces turning away from the light. Their footing looked unsure; one of them didn't have a scarf; the other one didn't have a hat; the snow winked in the headlights as if the women were throwing diamonds in the air.

Homer Wells stopped the car and rolled down the window. 'May I give you a ride?' he asked the women.

'You're goin' the wrong way,' one of them said.

'I could turn around!' he called to them. When they walked on without answering him, he drove ahead to the hospital entrance of the boys' division and turned out the headlights. The snow falling in front of the light in the dispensary was the same kind of snow that had been falling the night that he arrived in St. Cloud's after his escape from the Drapers in Waterville.

There had been something of a brouhaha between Larch and his nurses about where Homer and Candy {511}! would sleep. Larch assumed that Candy would sleep in the girls' division and that Homer would sleep where he used to sleep, with the other boys, but the women reacted strongly to this suggestion.

'They're lovers!' Nurse Edna pointed out. 'Surely they sleep together!'

'Well, surely they have,' Larch said. That doesn't mean that they have to sleep together here.'

'Homer said he was going to marry her,' Nurse Edna pointed out.

'Going to,' grumbled Wilbur Larch.

'I think it would be nice to have someone sleeping with someone else here,' Nurse Angela said.

'It seems to me,' said Wilbur Larch, 'that we're in business because there's entirely too much sleeping together.'

'They're lovers!' Nurse Edna repeated indignantly.

And so the women decided it. Candy and Homer would share a room with two beds on the ground floor of the girls' division; how they arranged the beds was their own business. Mrs. Grogan said that she liked the idea of having a man in the girls' division; occasionally, the girls complained of a prowler or a peeping torn; having a man around at night was a good idea.

'Besides,' Mrs. Grogan said, 'I'm all alone over there-you three have each other.'

'We all sleep alone over here,' Dr Larch said.

'Well, Wilbur,' Nurse Edna said, 'don't be so proud of it.'

Olive Worthington, alone in Wally's room, regarded the two beds, Homer's and Wally's-both beds were freshly made up, both pillows were without a crease. On the night table between their beds was a photograph of Candy teaching Homer how to swim. Because there was no ashtray in the boys' room, Olive held her free hand in a cupped position under the long, dangling ash of her cigarette.

Raymond Kendall, alone above the lobster pound, {512} viewed the triptych of photographs that stood like an altarpiece on his night table, next to his socket wrench set. The middle photograph was of himself as a young man; he was seated in an uncomfortable-looking chair, his wife was in his lap; she was pregnant with Candy; the chair was in apparent danger. The left-hand photograph was Candy's graduation picture, the right-hand photograph was of Candy with Wally-their tennis racquets pointed at each other, like guns. Ray had no picture of Homer Wells; he needed only to look out the window at his dock in order to imagine Homer clearly; Ray could not look at his dock and think of Homer Wells without hearing the snails rain upon the water.