Carla

Chapter Thirteen

She found the gas station closed. For a moment she was lost. How could she possibly find him? He wasn’t listed in the phonebook and there was no home address listed on the door of the station.

She could always wait. Tomorrow he would be back at the station and she could seek him out then and tell him how she felt. It wasn’t that necessary to get in touch with him today.

But it would be nice to see him today. He was upset over what he had done, and she wanted to tell him that it was all right, that he didn’t have to worry about anything any more. But how could she find him?

Suddenly she remembered that Ronald had a City Directory at home, a book listing everyone living in the Buffalo metropolitan area. She hopped back behind the wheel of the MG and drove home quickly, impatient to get Danny’s address and see him at once.

418 Sagerties. She found the address and snapped the book shut, and seconds later she was back in the car and driving east toward Danny’s home. The territory was unfamiliar to her but she had a vague idea where Sagerties Avenue was and she found it without too much difficulty.

418 Sagerties was a white frame house with the paint peeling from the boards. Carla experienced a momentary sensation of distaste. The house was very much like the one she had lived in a few years ago, and those few years seemed like a dozen. She wondered if Danny would have the same run-down gas stove in the corner of his room, and whether the hallway of the house would have the same indescribable odor of poverty.

She parked the car and walked slowly to the doorway. The front door was open, and Carla stepped into the hallway. The smell hit her at once — an odor compounded of equal parts of cabbage and strong soap and human perspiration. It was a familiar smell.

“Hello?”

A faded, shrunken woman appeared from a doorway and scrutinized Carla carefully, obviously taking note of her fancy clothes.

“What do you want here?” she asked.

“I’m looking for Mr. Rand. Does he live here?”

“You mean Danny?”

Carla nodded.

“Yeah, he lives here,” the woman said. “Why?”

“I want to see him.”

“You got some kinda business with him?”

“Not exactly,” Carla said.

The woman considered her again thoughtfully. “If you’re kin of his, I suppose you can go up to his room. He’s usually working this time of day but you can wait there for him.”

Carla started to tell the woman that she and Danny weren’t related but changed her mind. “That will be fine,” she said. “Do you have a key?”

“I got one, but you won’t need it. Danny never locks the door. Says he ain’t got anything worth stealing so he won’t be bothered carrying a key around. Just go up three flights and turn to your left.”

The woman vanished into her room and Carla began climbing the staircase. Every few steps a board would creak under her feet, reminding her forcibly once again of the East Side flat she used to share with her mother. The stairs always creaked there too, and her mother could always tell when she came home late or sneaked out to meet someone.

She was breathing hard by the time she reached the top of the third flight of stairs. She paused, then turned to the left and studied the door in front of her. Should she go in?

She knocked, hoping he might be home. But there was no answer.

It was silly. He was probably out somewhere having a drink or two and she would be wasting her time waiting for him. She ought to go home. She turned and took a few steps down the staircase, but something stopped her and made her climb back to the top once again. Maybe she ought to go inside his room and wait for him. He might be back soon, and she really did want to see him today.

She put her hand on the doorknob.

Should she go in or not? She had to get home soon or Ronald would miss her, and the chances were pretty slim that Danny would be back in time. She hesitated.

She turned the doorknob at last and pushed open the door. The smell of gas hit her full in the face, almost knocking her to the floor. Why, he must have left the gas on when he went out!

And then she saw him lying flat on his back on the cot. After the initial shock she didn’t stop to think any more. All of her actions were automatic and she moved quickly and easily.

She crossed the room and threw open the window all the way. Then her hand found the knob on the stove and shut off the gas so that no more could escape. Coughing, she picked up a newspaper and began fanning the gas out the window.

Then she turned her attention to the man on the bed.

He was unconscious. At first she thought he was dead, and her heart began beating wildly, but when she felt for his pulse and found it her spirits rose. She slapped gently at his face to wake him but he didn’t wake up.

She realized then that Danny had managed to breathe in a large quantity of gas. He was alive, but he wasn’t breathing and would die without help. She had to get him breathing in order to save his life. Grimly she rolled him over on his stomach and began applying artificial respiration. She learned the method in high school and hadn’t used it yet, but after the first few strokes it came back to her. Her body fell into the gentle rhythm of artificial respiration, her hands pressing the used air from Danny’s lungs and permitting them to fill again with fresh air.

He had to live. She worked feverishly, her mind churning with anger and worry. If he died, she was as responsible as if she had taken a gun and killed him. If she hadn’t been so rotten to him he wouldn’t have taken her the way he did, and then he wouldn’t have tried to kill himself.

What a strange man he was! He was such a weird mixture of toughness and tenderness, a man who could master a woman and then feel so upset over his actions that he would try to take his own life. She wanted to take his head in her lap and run her fingers through his hair, telling him, over and over that everything was going to be all right. Oh, he had to live!

After a little more than ten minutes she stopped her movements for a moment, and he began to breathe by himself. She watched carefully but the breathing continued and grew progressively stronger and more assured. A few moments later he groaned softly, and seconds later he turned his head to one side and looked into her eyes. He stared at her for what seemed hours; then his eyes closed.

“What are you doing here?” he asked weakly.

“I — You tried to kill yourself!”

“So what?”

“I saved you.”

“Why?”

“I—”

He raised himself up on one arm and looked at her again. “Why the hell couldn’t you just let me die?” he demanded hoarsely. “What did you come for, anyway? To get me arrested? Hell, you could have just let me die. That would have been revenge enough, wouldn’t it?”

“You don’t understand,” she said.

“I understand. I understand, damn it. You don’t want me but you get a kick out of driving a man mad. All right — you got me. But can’t you just go away and leave me done? I’m sorry about this afternoon, if that matters. I’m sorry, but I just flew off the handle and I couldn’t help myself. I went crazy wanting you and wanting to get even with you and I couldn’t stop. But I won’t bother you again, Carla. I won’t go near you, if only you’ll stay far away from me.”

She wanted to say something but she didn’t know where to begin. The gas smell was almost gone now, and the more familiar odor of cabbage and perspiration began to filter in through the open door. As her nostrils filled with the smell, she became aware of the room itself which she hadn’t noticed before. It was shabby, shabby and run-down and cheap. It was almost identical to her bedroom of several years ago, and despite her distaste she felt strangely at home there.

“Please go away,” he went on. “What do you want from my life? I won’t try to kill myself again, Carla. You don’t have to worry about that, if that’s what’s bugging you. But can’t you leave me alone?”

“Danny,” she said softly, saying his name for the first time. “Danny, you just don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand.”

“Will you let me explain?”

“Go ahead,” he said sourly.

“I didn’t come to have you arrested,” she begun. “I didn’t even think of that, Danny. I came because there was something very important to tell you. You may not want me in the same room with you but I’m going to tell you this and you’re going to listen. I’m a hard woman to get rid of when I get determined.

“I want to tell you that I love you, Danny.” Her voice grew husky and she felt her eyes go moist, and she reached out with one hand and let her fingers play with his hair like a kitten with a ball of yarn.

“I love you,” she repeated. “Maybe I loved you ever since I met you but I didn’t see it until this afternoon. I didn’t let myself see it, dear. I grew up in a room very much like this one and I couldn’t even conceive of loving a man who lived in this sort of place. I tried to keep myself from loving you. But I couldn’t.

“And this afternoon— This afternoon you showed me what kind of a man I needed. I suppose some women would hate a man for what you did but it made me see how much I love you. You’re the kind of man I need, Danny.

“That’s what I wanted to tell you, Danny. Now if you still want me to go, I’ll go.”

For a moment neither of them spoke. Then, his voice little more than a whisper, he said, “I’ll never want you to leave me, Carla.”

She moved closer to him on the bed and placed his head in her lap. Her fingers massaged the muscles in his neck and shoulders. She thought how strong he was and how easy it was to hurt him, both at once. And she thought how much she loved him.

“Never leave me, Carla.” His face was buried in the folds of her skirt and she felt his mouth against her thighs when he spoke.

“I won’t,” she said.

“We’re going to get married,” he said dreamily. “I’m going to marry you and we’ll find a decent place to live and I’m going to work hard to get you pregnant.”

“Ummmmmm.”

“That won’t be work,” he continued. “Probably be fun, a good deal of fun. I think I’ll like it.”

“Ummmmmm.”

“And I’ll work sixteen hours a day making money for you to spend and make love to you the other eight hours. That ought to be nice.”

“That’s a lot of work.”

“So what?”

“But when will you sleep?”

“In the winter.”

She giggled. “You’re a little silly,” she said. “I guess you’re a little bit nuts but it doesn’t matter because I love you. Will you really make love to me eight hours a day?”

“Of course.”

“Honest?”

“I’ll punch a time clock if I have to.”

She giggled again. “That’s a good idea,” she said.

“Carla,” he said — just her name, but he made it sound like a prayer. He reached up and took her head in his hands, his fingers entangling themselves in her long hair. She stretched out on the bed beside him and put her mouth very close to him.

“I love you,” she said.

He kissed her — not with force and fire but with a soft and beautiful tenderness she had never known. She felt her whole body begin to glow in a very wonderful way. It was not passion, but it was far more than passion. She wanted him to give her pleasure, but even more she wanted to give him pleasure, to make it good and beautiful for him. He kissed her again and his tongue was warm and delicious in her mouth.

“Danny,” she said, “be gentle with me. Don’t hurt me.

He unzipped her skirt and took it off, and she helped him slip her panties down over her hips to her knees. His hand moved from her waist to her knee and back again, and he pressed his lips to her breast and kissed her.

“Danny—”

“Sshhh,” he whispered. He removed his clothes and she saw that his body was hard and brown from the sun.

He took her, and it was brand-new and perfect and wonderful. They soared higher and higher on the crest of a magical wave, higher and higher until they reached the top and it was finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and entering Heaven and everything she had ever imagined and things she had never dared to even dream.

They reached the top of the wave together and they fell away from it together, tumbling together into an all-covering blanket of wooly blackness.

For a moment they were two people.

Then they were one, and nothing else in the whole world mattered.