"But its Sunday, Mr. Bell. Clocks are slow on Sundays. Besides, I havent been tobed yet," she told him, and confided to me: "Not to sleep." She blushed, and glancedaway guiltily. For the first time since Id known her, she seemed to feel a need tojustify herself: "Well, I had to. Doc really loves me, you know. And I love him. Hemay have looked old and tacky to you. But you dont know the sweetness of him, theconfidence he can give to birds and brats and fragile things like that. Anyone whoever gave you confidence, you owe them a lot. Ive always remembered Doc in myprayers. Please stop smirking!" she demanded, stabbing out a cigarette. "I do saymy prayers."
Nor did they seem aware of Madame Sapphia Spanella, who opened her door andyelled: "Shut up! Its a disgrace. Do your whoring elsewhere."
Neither of them noticed me when I squeezed past them and went up to my room.
She took off her dark glasses and squinted at me. It was as though her eyes wereshattered prisms, the dots of blue and gray and green like broken bits of sparkle.
"Im not smirking. Im smiling. Youre the most amazing person."
He stayed hunched over and silent, as though listening to the long-ago summersound. I carried our checks to the cashier. While I was paying, he joined me. We lefttogether and walked over to Park Avenue. It was a cool, blowy evening; swankyawnings flapped in the breeze. The quietness between us continued until I said: "Butwhat about her brother? He didnt leave?"
Joe Bell, in whose bar we were sitting, accepted the order reluctantly. "Yourerockin the boat kinda early," he complained, crunching on a Tums. It was not yetnoon, according to the black mahogany clock behind the bar, and hed alreadyserved us three rounds.
Twas Nellie, my oldest girl, twas Nellie brought em into the house. She come to meone morning, and said: Papa, I got two wild yunguns locked in the kitchen. I caughtem outside stealing milk and turkey eggs. That was Lulamae and Fred. Well, younever saw a more pitiful something. Ribs sticking out everywhere, legs so puny theycant hardly stand, teeth wobbling so bad they cant chew mush. Story was: theirmother diedof the TB, and their papa done the same -- and all the churren, a wholeraft of em, they been sent off to live with different mean people. Now Lulamae andher brother, them two been living with some mean, no-count people a hundred mileseast of Tulip. She had good cause to run off from that house. She didnt have noneto leave mine. Twas her home." He leaned his elbows on the counter and, pressinghis closed eyes with his fingertips, sighed. "She plumped out to be a real prettywoman. Lively, too. Talky as a jaybird. With something smart to say on everysubject: better than the radio. First thing you know, Im out picking flowers. I tamedher a crow and taught it to say her name. I showed her how to play the guitar. Justto look at her made the tears spring to my eyes. The night I proposed, I cried like ababy. She said: What you want to cry for, Doc? Course well be married. Ive neverbeen married before. Well, I had to laugh, hug and squeeze her: never beenmarried before!" He chuckled, chewed on his toothpick a moment. "Dont tell me thatwoman wasnt happy!" he said, challengingly. "We all doted on her. She didnt haveto lift a finger, cept to eat a piece of pie. Cept to comb her hair and send away forall the magazines. We mustve had a hunnerd dollars worth of magazines come intothat house. Ask me, thats what done it. Looking at show-off pictures. Readingdreams. Thats whatstarted her walking down the road. Every day shed walk a littlefurther: a mile, and come home. Two miles, and come home. One day she just kepton." He put his hands over his eyes again; his breathing made a ragged noise. "Thecrow I give her went wild and flew away. All summer you could hear him. In theyard. In the garden. In the woods. All summer that damned bird was calling:Lulamae, Lulamae."
"I suppose I am," she said, and her face, wan, rather bruised-looking in themorning light, brightened; she smoothed her tousled hair, and the colors of itglimmered like a shampoo advertisement. "I must look fierce. But who wouldnt? Wespent the rest of the night roaming around in a bus station. Right up till the lastminute Doc thought I was going to go with him. Even though I kept telling him: But,Doc, Im not fourteen any more, and Im not Lulamae. But the terrible part is (and Irealized it while we were standing there) I am. Im still stealing turkey eggs andrunning through a brier patch. Only now I call it having the mean reds."
"Well, idiot," she said, and playfully slapped me with her purse. "Im in too much of ahurry to make up now. Well smoke the pipe tomorrow, okay?"
Joe Bell disdainfully settled the fresh martinis in front of us.
Holly was alone. She answered the door at once; in fact, she was on her way out-- white satin dancing pumps and quantities of perfume announced gala intentions.
"He told you that," she said in a small, shivering voice.
The notion of introducing Mrs. Golightly to her husband had its satisfying aspects;and, glancing up at her lighted windows, I hoped her friends were there, for theprospect of watching the Texan shake hands with Mag and Rusty and José was moresatisfying still. But Doc Golightlys proud earnest eyes and sweat-stained hat mademe ashamed of such anticipations. He followed me into the house and prepared towait at the bottom of the stairs. "Do I look nice?" he whispered, brushing his sleeves,tightening the knot of his tie.
"Gee, honey," he said, "dont they feed you up here? Youre so skinny. Like when Ifirst saw you. All wild around the eye."
I did. It was too implausible not to be fact; moreover, it dovetailed with O.J.
"Plain broke our hearts when she ran off like she done," the horse doctorrepeated. "She had no cause. All the housework was done by her daughters.
Holly touched his face; her fingers tested the reality of his chin, his beard stubble.
"No, sir," he said, clearing his throat. "Fred was with us right till they took him inthe Army. A fine boy. Fine with horses. He didntknow what got into Lulamae, howcome she left her brother and husband and churren. After he was in the Army,though, Fred started hearing from her. The other day he wrote me her address. So Icome to get her. I know hes sorry for what she done. I know she wants to gohome." He seemed to be asking me to agree with him. I told him that I thought hedfind Holly, or Lulamae, somewhat changed. "Listen, son," he said, as we reached thesteps of the brownstone, "I advised you I need a friend. Because I dont want tosurprise her. Scare her none. Thats why Ive held off. Be my friend: let her know Imhere."
I could hear Doc Golightlys footsteps climbing the stairs. His head appearedabove the banisters, and Holly backed away from him, not as though she werefrightened, but as though she were retreating into a shell of disappointment. Then hewas standing in front of her, hangdog and shy. "Gosh, Lulamae," he began, andhesitated, for Holly was gazing at him vacantly, as though she couldnt place him.
"Oh, please. Where is he?" She ran past me into the hall. "Fred!" she called downthe stairs. "Fred! Where are you, darling?"
Bermans description of the Holly hed first encountered in California: "You dontknow whether shes a hillbilly or an Okie or what." Berman couldnt be blamed fornot guessing that she was a child-wife from Tulip, Texas.
"Sure, Lulamae. If youre still around tomorrow."
It couldnt have been legal." Holly tapped an empty martini glass. "Two more, mydarling Mr. Bell."
"Divorce him? Of course I never divorced him. I was only fourteen, for Gods sake.
Lulamae could just take it easy: fuss in front of mirrors and wash her hair. Our owncows, our own garden, chickens, pigs: son, that woman got positively fat. While herbrother growed into a giant. Which is a sight different from how they come to us.
"Hello, Doc," she said gently, and kissed him on the cheek. "Hello, Doc," sherepeated happily, as he lifted her off her feet in a rib-crushing grip. Whoops ofrelieved laughter shook him. "Gosh, Lulamae. Kingdom come."
