Margaret Millar - Wives and Lovers

“I wasn’t accusing you.”

“You were, with your eyes.”

“I’m only trying to get to the bottom of the matter,” Hazel said. “I feel responsible for a loss that took place on my property.”

“That’s how he wants you to feel, so you’ll buy him another.”

“I have no intention of buying him another. I intend to find the one he left here and I’ll find it, by Jesus, if I have to take the whole damn house apart.”

“You’ll never find it,” Ruth said softly. “There never was such a thing. It’s all a lie, it was all meant to take you in because you’re innocent. You talk so rough, Hazel, and you know so many different kinds of people, but you’re very innocent.”

She put the cloth over her eyes again, as a gesture of dismissal.

“Listen, Ruth,” Hazel said quietly, “if you know anything about where that hedge clipper is, you better tell me now. I’ll find out anyway.”

Ruth lay on the bed, mute and rigid.

“Let’s put it this way, suppose you had one of your screwy ideas and decided to take the hedge clipper and put it away some place. Maybe you were going to teach him a lesson, or maybe you even did it for my sake, to save money or something — I don’t care what reason you had. Just tell me where you put it and then we’ll forget the whole thing.”

“I’ve already forgotten.”

“Listen, you’ve got to tell me where it is.”

“I don’t know. I never saw it.”

“You don’t realize, this is one of those small things that can turn out to be very serious. He’s a poor man, he might go to the police. We’ll all get in trouble.”

“See? You are accusing me. I felt it when you came in the room.”

“I wasn’t accusing you when I came in. I only got suspicious when you began to talk about seeing it and not seeing it.”

“I’m not a liar. Sometimes I appear to lie, but it’s only that my imagination is so vivid, pictures form so clear and real in my head. But I’m not a liar.”

“I know that,” Hazel said patiently.

“So that’s where I must have seen it, in my head. It was lying on a shelf, or on the grass, I’m not sure which.”

“Ruth, did you take it or didn’t you?”

“It wasn’t there to take, and besides, I’d have no reason to do such a thing. I can’t think of any reason at all.” Though there had been no change in her voice and no overt sign of weeping, the cloth over her eyes was wet with tears. “If I could think of a reason, any reason — for your sake, perhaps, for your sake—”

“The reason doesn’t matter. Did you take it?”

“No, no, I didn’t!”

“All right,” Hazel said. “We’ll forget it for now.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Send the girl home and then find the hedge clipper. Maybe we’d both better hunt for it, you and me.”

“I can’t, I have this headache.”

Hazel stood looking at her indecisively for a moment, then she burst out, “Oh, for God’s sake, Ruth, be sensible and tell me where you hid it.”

Ruth turned her face to the wall.

When Hazel went back to the front room the girl was gone. Thinking she might have decided to wait outside, Hazel opened the door in time to see the bicycle just turning on to Castillo Street. At the hole in the corner which Hazel was always careful to avoid when she was driving, the baby and the boy and Connie herself all bounced in the air, but Connie kept pedaling furiously and in a moment the bicycle had disappeared behind the stucco wall of the school.

Hazel turned back into the house. Through the closed door of the bedroom she could hear Ruth talking to herself in a thin, reedy monotone that sounded as though Ruth had not intended to talk, she had merely opened her mouth and the desert wind blew through it like a pitch pipe.

She opened the door. Ruth was sitting on the edge of the bed with the little dog cradled in her arms. The dog looked uncomfortable and puzzled, but it did not attempt to escape.

“Ruth.”

“I will come out and speak to her personally,” Ruth said.

“You can’t. She’s gone.”

“Gone? Why?”

“I don’t know. She had her little brothers with her, maybe she wanted to get them home.”

“Brothers. Yes, of course. They breed like pigs.” The little dog squirmed out of her arms, sensing danger in their sudden contraction, and went to hide under the bed. “Like pigs. It’s disgusting. He probably has a new child every year.”

“That’s his business.”

“I’m sure it is his business. He seems to do very little else.”

“There’s no sense in—”

“But then they’re all lazy, every one of them.”

“I thought he worked very hard yesterday.”

“You weren’t here. I was. I watched him. I watched him the whole day.”

“Yes,” Hazel said slowly. “Yes, I guess you did.”

“You can rest assured that I did. Josephine wanted me to go along on the boat ride but I stayed home deliberately. They’ve got to be watched.”

“Do they?”

“Every minute of the time.”

Hazel had turned quite pale. “You stood outside and watched him?”

“Not outside. In here.”

“In where?”

“In— Why are you looking at me like that? Stop it. Stop it immediately.”

“Ruth.”

“I won’t tolerate it.”

“Listen to me a minute. I’m only trying to get at the truth.”

“Truth. Truth. There’s no such thing — it’s all a pack of lies.”

“What is?”

“All, all of it. Lies. Slander. You can’t believe anything you’re told.”

“Nobody told me anything. I figured it out for myself.”

Ruth laughed. “Oh, you did, did you? You’re quite a figurer for a woman with no education, who never got past high school.”

She was trembling so violently that the bed rattled and the dog hiding under it made a sudden dash for the door.

“I can figure, all right,” Hazel said. “You didn’t know he was married.”

“I didn’t know, or care. I wasn’t interested enough to think about it.”

“You thought about it.”

“No!”

“If you watched him all day, you must have.”

“How can you imply such a thing? — A Mexican — a dirty Mexican—” She took a long, shuddering breath. “We’ve always held our heads high, all the Kanes, we’re a good family.”

“Why did you take the clipper? So he’d have to come back for it?”

“No, no, how can you — how—”

“It’s the only reason I can think of.”

“No, no! I did it for your sake, Hazel, for you. I knew he was going to try and cheat you. I cheated him first. That’s fair, isn’t it, isn’t it fair?”

“You’re talking crazy. Why should he try to cheat me?”

“Because they all do. Everybody knows that. You can’t trust them. They’re sly, deceitful. He didn’t let on he was married, never gave a sign. We talked, I remember every word. Nothing about a wife and family, nothing. It shows, doesn’t it, how deceitful they are, how they can’t be trusted? I remember every word. We talked about Wendy, him pretending to be interested in her but all the while sizing me up with those innocent eyes of his. Ah, but I was too smart for him. I cheated him before he cheated me. You see that?”

“Yes, I think I see it. I think I do.” Hazel walked over to the window, her hands jammed in the pockets of her jeans as if it was necessary to keep them under control. The sun poured through the net curtains, a golden stream of warmth and light. “Where did you hide it?”

“In the garage.”

“Whereabouts in the garage?”

“I — can’t tell you.”

“You’ve got to.”

Ruth stared down at the floor, mute and suffering.