John Irving - The Cider House Rules

Melony, who had hitchhiked from Bath to Ocean View, hitchhiked back on the same day; she'd lost her zeal for apple picking. She retreated, to plan another vacation-or to plead to return to work. Melony went to the pizza bar where everyone went, and she was looking so woebegone that Lorna left the lout she was with at the bar and sat down in the booth opposite her.

'I guess you found him,' Lorna said.

'He's changed,' Melony said; she told Lorna the story. 'It wasn't for me that I felt so bad,' Melony said. 'I mean, I didn't really expect him to run away with me, or anythin' like that. It was just him-he was really better than that, I thought. He was someone I thought was gonna be a hero. I guess that's dumb, but that's what he looked like-like he had hero stuff in him. He seemed so much better than everybody else, but he was just a fake.'

'You don't know everythin' that's happened to him,' Lorna said philosophically; she didn't know Homer Wells, but she had sympathy for sexual entanglements.

Her present sexual entanglement grew impatient at the bar, where he'd been waiting for her; he was a bum named Bob, and he came over to Melony's booth where the two women were holding hands.

'I guess what's the matter with Homer is that he's a man,' Melony observed. 'I only ever met one who didn't let his dong run his life'-she meant Dr. Larch-'and he was an ether addict.' {640}

'Are you with me, or have you gone back to her?' Bob asked Lorna, but he stared at Melony.

'We was just talkin', she was just bein' an old friend,' Melony said.

'I thought you was on vacation,' Bob said to Melony. 'Why don'tcha go somewhere where there's cannibals?'

'Go beat off in a bucket,' Melony told him. 'Go try to fill a pail, go drip in a teaspoon,' she told him, and Bob twisted her arm too sharply-he broke it. Then Bob broke her nose against the Formica tabletop before some of the shipyard workers pulled him off her.

Lorna took her friend to the hospital, and when they'd put the cast on her arm and had set her nose-they set it almost straight-Lorna took Melony back to the women-only boardinghouse, where they both agreed they belonged: together. Lorna moved her things back in while Melony was convalescing. The swelling in her face went down after a few days, and her eyes turned from black to a purplish-green to yellow in about a week.

'The thing is,' Melony said, with her sore face against Lorna's tummy, with Lorna's hand stroking her hair, 'when he was a boy, he had that kind of bravery that's really special-no one could make him just go along with what was goin' on. And now look at him: bangin' a cripple's wife, lyin' to his own son.'

'It's disgusting,' Lorna agreed. 'Why not forget it?' When Melony didn't answer her, Lorna asked, 'How come you're not gonna press charges against Bob?'

'Suppose it works?' Melony asked.

'Pardon me?' Lorna said.

'Suppose they really put Bob in jail, or send him off somewheres?' Melony asked. 'Then when I'm all better, I won't be able to find him.'

'Oh,' Lorna said.

Homer Wells did not recognize the voice that spoke to him from the headlights' glare.

'What you got in the bag, Homer?' asked Mr. Rose. It {641} had been a long drive from the Carolinas, and Mr. Rose's old car creaked and popped with heat and with apparent pain. 'It's nice of you workin' all night to make my house nice for me, Homer,' he said. When he stepped in front of his headlights, his black face was still hard to see, but Homer recognized the way he moved-so slowly, but with a felt potential for moving so fast.

'Mister Rose!' Homer said.

'Mistuh Wells,' said Mr. Rose, smiling. They shook hands, while Homer's heart calmed down. Candy was still hiding in the cider house, and Mr. Rose sensed that Homer wasn't alone. He was peering through the lit kitchen, looking into the shadowy bunkroom, when Candy walked, guiltily, into the light.

'Missus Worthington!' said Mr. Rose.

'Mister Rose,' Candy said, smiling, shaking his hand. 'We're just in time,' she said to Homer, poking him. 'We just this minute got all the bed linen ready,' she told Mr. Rose, but Mr. Rose observed that there was no car or truck-that they had walked to the cider house. Had they carried all the blankets and sheets?

'Just this minute, we got it all folded up, I mean,' Candy said.

Homer Wells thought that Mr. Rose might have seen the light in the apple-mart office when he drove by. 'We were working late in the office,' Homer said, 'and we remembered the linen was down here-all in a heap.'

Mr. Rose nodded and smiled. Then the baby cried. Candy jumped. 'I wrote to Wally 'bout bringin' the daughter,' Mr. Rose explained, as a young woman, about Angel's age, walked into the light with a baby in her arms.

'I haven't seen you since you were a little girl,'Homer Wells told the young woman, who looked at him blankly; it must have been an exhausting trip with a small child.

'My daughter,' Mr. Rose said in introduction. 'And her daughter,' he added. 'Missus Worthington,' said Mr. Rose, {642} introducing her, 'and Homer Wells.'

'Candy,' Candy said, shaking the young woman's hand.

'Homer,' Homer said. He couldn't remember the daughter's name, and so he asked her. She looked a little startled, and looked at her father-as if for clarification, or advice.

'Rose,' Mr. Rose said.

Everyone laughed-the daughter, too. The baby stopped crying and looked with wonder at the laughter. 'No, I mean your first name!' said Homer Wells.

'Rose is her first name,' said Mr. Rose. 'You already heard it.'

'Rose Rose?' Candy asked. The daughter smiled; she didn't look very sure.

'Rose Rose,' said Mr. Rose proudly.

Everyone laughed again; the baby was cheering up, and Candy played with the little girl's fingers. 'And what's her name?' Candy asked Rose Rose. This time, the young woman answered for herself.

'She don't have a name, yet,' Rose Rose replied.

'We're still thinking it out,' said Mr. Rose.

'What a good idea,' said Homer Wells, who knew that too many names were given frivolously, or just temporarily-or, in the cases of John Wilbur and Wilbur Walsh, that they were repeated without imagination.

'The cider house isn't really set up for a baby,' Candy said to Rose Rose. 'If you'd like to come up to the house, I may have some baby things you could use-there's even a playpen in the attic, isn't there, Homer?'

'We don't need nothin',' Mr. Rose said pleasantly. 'Maybe she'll look another day.'

'I could sleep a whole day, I think,' said Rose Rose prettily.

'If you'd like,' Candy told her, 'I could look after the baby for you-so you could sleep.'

'We don't need nothin',' Mr. Rose repeated. 'Not today, anyway,' he said, smiling.{643}

'Want a hand unpacking?' Homer asked him.

'Not today, anyway,' Mr. Rose said. 'What's in the bag, Homer?' he asked when they'd all said good night and Homer and Candy were leaving.

'Apples,' Homer admitted.

'That would be strange,' said Mr. Rose. Homer unzipped the bag and showed him the apples.

'You the apple doctor?' Mr. Rose asked him.

Homer almost said 'Right.'

'He knows,' Homer said to Candy, as they were walking back to the office.

'Of course he knows,' Candy said. 'But what's it matter if we're stopping?'

'I guess it doesn't matter,' Homer said.

'Since you were prepared to tell Wally and Angel,' she said, 'I guess it won't be that hard to really do it.' 'After the harvest,' he said; he took her hand, but when they came near the apple mart and the office light, they dropped hands and walked their separate ways.

'What's the bag for?' Candy asked him, before she kissed him good night.

'It's for me,' said Homer Wells. 'I think it's for me.'