The weather was just perfect that day, impossible to be bettered. Warm sunlight streamed down, bathing the valley. The bus chugged steadily up the steep hill, and through the gaps in the trees Amy Lovett could see the lovely green fields strolling off toward the horizon.
Beautiful, she thought.
She was a city girl, and she didn't know much about the beauties of nature. Just an occasional Sunday in the park, or a drive across the river when she was going out with anybody with a car. Even then, she usually made those trips at night, and the pale light of the moon was all that illuminated the scenery.
Now the golden, glorious sunlight bathed everything. Fleecy clouds dotted the sky. All across the three-mile width of the valley, little bright dots gave evidence of peaceful homes.
It was a vision out of a dream. And, thought Amy, this was the kind of dream she had had for so very long. The peaceful valley, the soft clouds, the lovely fields-and Walter.
Walter Hanrahan. "Bull," his friends called him. He was part of the dream. Thinking of him, Amy felt a little shiver of delight pass through her loins.
She was a pretty girl. Just past nineteen, dressed well though not expensively. Blonde hair, curly and pale; clear blue eyes. Her young body was softly ripe, with swelling breasts, full hips, tender buttocks.
She closed her eyes, remembering, as the bus continued onward. Remembering a day a month earlier, in April, back in the busy city. She was walking through the park, on a Sunday afternoon, with her friend Paula who was bold and adventurous, to an extent that made Amy ashamed of her own shyness. Paula suggested, that day, that they have some fun by picking up a couple of fellows. Reluctantly, Amy had agreed to the idea.
They found two soldiers-or, perhaps, the two soldiers found them. They were on furlough, and looking for company. It was just luck that Amy found herself with the handsomer of the two. And Paula, for all her scheming, was forced to take the second best.
That was how Amy had met Bull Hanrahan, who now had a place in her most intimate dreams.
Walter-she hated to call him Bull-had picked her out in preference to Paula. That was unusual. She had been unable to get him out of her mind. The few weeks that had passed since his return to camp had been unbearable-but now she was going to see him again. Impatience had brought her to the bursting point.
Much to Amy's surprise, her aunt and uncle hadn't objected to her departure. She had always thought they liked her, that they hadn't objected to taking her in after the death of her parents. Still, they had let her leave without discussion.
"Are you going to marry him?" they asked, point-blank. They didn't want details about him. They just wanted to know.
Amy's lips had trembled. "Yes," she said, quivering the way she did when she told a lie. Only, this was no lie-she was really going to marry him.
Or was she?
She did not answer the ugly question that sprang up in her mind. She turned to the window again, studying the peaceful scene. Just a little more than an hour, now. Did it matter Bull didn't know she was en route? She imagined he'd be overjoyed when she showed up.
Or maybe not, she thought anxiously. Maybe men dislike surprises of this sort. I should have told him first, she thought. But it couldn't matter too much. Bull loved her. She had no doubts of that.
It was hard to believe, though. She and Paula had just been making a pickup for the fun of it, to kill a sunny afternoon. She hadn't expected love to come from it. And certainly not from someone like Bull. Why, he wasn't the kind of man she had dreamed of. He was too rough.
But love had come. She relaxed, feeling the warmth of her lave, and her fears dissolved. Soon a house snug in the hills would be hers-hers and Bull's. There was no reason to be nervous. She was being foolish. Bull had told her many times that he loved her. They had met just about daily, after that Sunday in the park, Bull waiting for her after work. Of course he loved her! How could she possibly doubt it?
But, as the mental debate went on, she began to frown. It was almost as though the closer she came to her destination, the more she doubted her course. It had seemed so right, when she had made the decision back in the city. The days had just dragged wearily on, after Bull had gone back to camp.
And just that single letter from him! No doubt he didn't realize how she waited, desperately anxious, for the arrival of the daily mail, only to meet with cold disappointment each day. Well, Bull wasn't the letter writing sort. Just the same, one letter in two and a half weeks was far from sufficient.
But he loves me, she thought. He told me, so many times!
She believed him. But separation could make love fade. She told herself that if she did not go to him, she might lose him. That would be a catastrophe. So, casually, she told her friends and relatives that she was leaving to be married.
Amy's cheeks reddened as she recalled her brief love affair. It had happened so suddenly. Time had blurred and become nothing, and she had lived only from one meeting with Bull to the next, and then, suddenly, it had been the last date before he was to return. She had known all the time that she would have only two weeks with him. But she had pushed the knowledge to the back of her mind. Now there was no pretending any more. She was leaving.
The last date was vividly imprinted on her mind. She had resisted Bull at first, after they had gone to that shabby hotel room. She had not really expected him to want to make love to her. But he did. And she found herself surrendering to a man for the first time in her nineteen years.
She had done it because she. wanted to bind him to her, to forge a link that would carry past his departure and keep her from losing him. She had not expected it would be so beautiful. Urgently he had removed her clothes, had put his big hands on the tender flesh of her breasts, and had clasped her body against his. Half frightened, half wonderstruck, she had let him take her. The pain had been brief, and after that it was all splendor and wonder, the wonder of being wanted, of being possessed, fully and completely.
That too was a knowledge which she alone possessed, a weightier evidence that all the rest that she was doing the right thing now. Bull had told her he loved her, whispered it to her in all the ways that a man could and, finally, he had proved it to her in a way that she could not recall without a surge of tender yearning.
It was a yearning that went beyond that, a yearning that had become a hunger, that made her restless and eager to know Bull's love again. This was something Amy would not have admitted to anyone. It seemed right to her, but it was associated in her mind with shame and the knowledge of wrongdoing and was colored by these feelings also. She wanted it to be right this time. They would be married as soon as she arrived.
She peered out at the landscape and saw by the shadows that evening was approaching. Soon she would be in Millersville, half an hour from Camp Barton-and Bull.
"Millersville," the driver called.
She scrambled to her feet, excusing herself to the lady who sat beside her. Out in the aisle she waited for the bus to halt, so that the driver could help her with her bags. Suddenly she became very tense and the palms of her hands were moist. From where she was standing she could not see the town at all and she wanted very much to be off the bus and stepping into her future. After all, Bull had chosen her, not Paula.
CHAPTER TWO
Amy stood with her two suitcases on the pavement beside her and watched the bus pull away. She was suddenly possessed by a feeling of complete aloneness. The ecstasy of arrival, of which she had dreamed, faded into the drabness of the reality and she shivered slightly as she turned to survey the town of Millersville.
The first thing she noticed were the very high curbstones. They rose almost a foot from the gutter and were a mark, to her, of the utter strangeness of this world. In New York the curbstones were a sensible four or five inches from the street level.
Wood was the next thing that caught her eyes. At home almost everything was stone, but here all the houses were made of wood. Amy stood for a while staring around at the stores and shops, trying to get the feel of the town.
There were but few people on the street, though it seemed to Amy that all of them were eyeing her with curiosity. She had to find a place to stay, but these strangers passing her on the street appeared too aloof for Amy to approach. She remained where she was for several minutes looking helplessly around. Then, she picked up her two suitcases and started walking down the street.
A couple of soldiers passed her and the sight of their uniforms reminded her of Bull. One of them wolf-whistled at her, but she ignored him. As she approached a drug store she glanced inside. A middle-aged man was behind the counter as Amy entered.
"Yes, Miss?" he said softly.
"I don't want to buy anything," Amy explained shyly. "It's just about a place to stay. I'm a stranger here and I was wondering if you could recommend me to a place where I could get a nice room."
The druggist smiled.
"Sure thing, Miss. Try Mrs. Cartison, over on Hickory St. It's only got elms and oaks, but that's what the damfools named it. She's likely to have a room. Staying here long?"
The question put Amy into confusion and she blushed.
"Yes," she said. "I expect to."
"Hubby in camp?"
"He's not my husband yet," Amy blushed again. The druggist smiled broadly. "Well, well, so's there going to be a wedding."
"Can you tell me where I can find Hickory St.?" Amy cut in before he ask any more questions. "Why, sure."
He took her to the door and pointed down the street.
"Turn left at the corner," he said "and go down two blocks. That's Hickory St. Mrs. Cartison's is halfway up the street on the right. It's a big white house with a porch. There's probably a sign saying 'Rooms' outside it."
Amy thanked the man and proceeded down the street again. She was glad when she turned off Main St. The side streets were lined with trees and seemed very peaceful and comforting. Hickory Street turned out to be what she had always pictured a small town street. The pavement was bumpy and dusty, while the trees were old and thick-trunked, heavy with the bright green foliage of spring. The houses were old and badly in need of a new coat of paint.
Amy found Mrs. Cartison's house very easily. The house showed its age more than the others, the paint having chipped off in several patches. The door gate leaned brokenly on one hinge and rubbed against the flagstone walk leading up to the house.
On the porch, which creaked at every step, Amy set her bags down and was about to ring the bell when she paused. She fished into her purse, took out a mirror, and checked her makeup. She rang the bell then and waited. After several minutes she heard footsteps from inside. The door opened and an elderly woman appeared, regarding her with hostile eyes.
"What d' ye want?"
The woman's cold and clipped speech intimated Amy. There was no welcome in her tone even though the two suitcases clearly announced Amy's purpose. She was taller than Amy, lank-boned and thin, with grey hair mixed with black and cold grey eyes. Her hands were heavy and reddened from hard work. She wore black flat-heeled shoes that were scuffed. and unpolished.
"I want a room," Amy said timidly.
Mrs. Cartison looked her over without changing her expression and said nothing.
"The man in the drug store sent me here," Amy went on. "I just arrived in town. My name is Amy Lovett."
"Ten dollars a week in advance for a single room," Mrs. Cartison said flatly. "Fifteen with breakfasts. No cooking in the rooms. Rent due every Monday."
She spoke each short sentence peremptorily and coldly. She made no move to ask Amy in or show her the room, but remained where she stood, barring the doorway with her withered body. Amy looked around her uncertainly, surprised by Mrs. Cartison's hostile manner. If she could have fled at this moment, Amy would have done so. That is, if she knew where else to go.
"Can ... can I see the room?" It was scarcely more than a whisper.
Mrs. Cartison jerked her head on her scrawny neck in a gesture which informed Amy to follow her.
The room Mrs. Cartison led her into, faced the rear of the house and the ceiling came down at such an acute slant that Amy's head touched it before she reached the outer wall. Wall and ceiling met at a point about four feet above the floor. An iron bed, its dark brown paint chipped, stretched from the left hand wall past the dormer window. There was about two feet of space between the end of the bed and the wall and the room was not as wide as it was long. An old walnut-stained chest with an adjustable mirror on top of it, a shaky flat writing table and one rocking chair completed the room's furnishings. Amy felt ten dollars was a lot of money for a room like this.
"Ye staying?"
Mrs. Cartison was regarding her with the same uncompromising hostility. Amy felt that she would be just as glad to see her go.
"It's a small room," Amy started to say.
"Bigger room costs fifteen dollars," the woman snapped. "That's the price and you won't do better anywhere's else."
It was the first thing she had said that indicated she wanted to rent to room. Amy still hesitated.
"I don' know what you expect for so little money," Mrs. Cartison said bitterly. "I've got to live too."
"All right," Amy decided. "I'll stay. And I'll have breakfast with you."
"That's fifteen dollars." The woman stuck out her hand.
Amy pulled out a ten and a five out of her purse and gave it to her. Mrs. Cartison crumpled the bills into her apron pocket.
"Breakfast's between eight and nine," she said. "And no visitors. This is a rooming house and that's all." She went out abruptly, closing the door behind her.
Amy was glad to be rid of her. She kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the bed, exhausted. The sounds of the country seeped in to her through the window and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze was a restful sound. For the first time since her arrival Amy felt a touch of happiness.
After she had rested she changed her clothes and decided to go out for dinner. Besides, she wanted to have another look at Millersville. There was no sign of Mrs. Cartison as she went downstairs. Outside it was dark and the air was fragrant with clover and honeysuckle.
Back on Main St., Amy was really surprised to see how many people were out. There were a lot of soldiers in uniform strolling in groups, some of them with girls. She wondered if Bull were in town and what would happen if she should run into him now.
She ate in a small place where the food was overcooked and unappetizing. Accustomed to eating out in the city, she was amazed to find that the prices were higher in Millersville. Remembering Mrs. Cartison's attitude, Amy began to understand the attitude of all of Millersville toward the presence of an Army camp nearby. It was a golden opportunity and everyone seemed to be in the scramble to relieve the soldiers of whatever money they had.
She went back early and fell asleep easily. She awoke the next morning to the sound of birds cluttering in the trees. The bright sunshine was already streaming in the window.
When she got dressed she went down for breakfast. Surprisingly the meal was delicious and plentiful.
However, she could not bring herself to ask her landlady how to get to Camp Barton. Somehow she was sure that such a request would meet with Mrs. Cartison's frigid disapproval. Instead she went out and walked back to Main St. where she made her inquiries. She learned that she could not go out until later in the day when visiting was permitted. With the whole day ahead of her, Amy took a long walk and came back to Mrs. Cartison's, where she took a bath and changed before going out.
The bus was crowded and she did not get a seat. Most of the people were young girls like herself, many of them carrying packages, and Amy guessed that they were married to soldiers. She felt envious of these girls and thrilled to think that she would soon be one of them.
As she drew near camp, however, she became very nervous and all her confidence disappeared. All sorts of ideas came into her mind, such as Bull being hurt, or not being there. Her nervousness did not abate, but rather increased when the bus braked to a stop in a dusty clearing and everyone got off.
Amy followed the others through the clearing. It was hot in the sun and she could see the heat waves shimmering over the tin roofs of the Army barracks. They had to walk about one hundred yards to the gate, which was guarded by two armed soldiers. The people before her showed a pass and were admitted; Amy felt a spurt of fear that they would bar her. But when she told them why she had come, they gave her a pass. As she turned to go into camp, one of the soldiers grinned and winked at the other. As she stepped along the walk toward the reception building, she overheard them mention Bull's name, but that was all. She blushed and her nervousness increased.
At the reception building she told the sergeant at the desk that she wanted to see Sgt. Hanrahan.
"You mean Bull, Miss?" he grinned up at her.
Amy blushed again.
"Yes," she nodded.
The sergeant shook his head in admiration.
"I don't know how he does it, but he does it," he said. "I'll get him for you, Miss."
She sat down to wait while the sergeant collected the names of all the men who had visitors. Soon she would see Bull and she could guess now how surprised he would be. Then the thought entered her mind that her appearance at the camp might embarrass him among his friends and again she wondered if she had done the right thing. Maybe she should have called to tell him she was in Millersville and could she meet him in town instead.
CHAPTER THREE
Amy saw Bull before he saw her. He filled the doorway when he walked into the reception center. Her mouth felt suddenly dry and her breath came fast. But she held herself in control, waiting for him to notice her and see his reaction.
Her memory of him had not been wrong. His bigness was the first thing anyone would ever notice about Bull Hanrahan. It was not merely that he was tall, six-foot-three but everything else about him was big also. The head was square, the neck thick merging with wide sloping shoulders and a chest that was huge. Bull was in condition and his waist tapered from his shoulders, giving an impression of slimness that was really a deception, because he was wider there than most men were in the chest.
He had handsome features, blue eyes and thin sandy hair which was in need of combing. He was in uniform, not fatigues, and looking at him and the chevrons on his thick muscular arms, one would think that this was how a First Sergeant should look.
His face split into a big amiable grin when she came into view and he took a long step toward her. Then he stopped and waited for Amy to come to him.
"Hi, baby," he said with affectionate casualness.
Amy forced herself not to run and throw her arms around him. She came toward him, a shy smile on her face, feeling that everyone was watching her.
"Hello, Walter," she said softly.
He looked around the room and saw the other sergeant watching him. Then he put a big hand on her shoulder and steered her toward the door.
"Come on," he said. "We don't want to hang around here."
He led her outside and around behind the building where they were alone.
"So you decided to pay old Bull a visit?" he said, shaking his head.
"I wanted to see you," Amy whispered. "You only sent one letter."
She hadn't wanted it to sound that way, but she knew there was a note of reproach in her voice.
"I ain't much on writing," he said, still grinning.
"It's all right, Bull," she said quickly. "I didn't mean it that way. It's just that it made me feel lonesome, not hearing from you more often. Are you glad to see me?"
He put his arm around her and hugged her close to him. Then he quickly released her.
"That glad enough, baby?"
Amy closed her eyes and drew from his brief touch the blessed reassurance which she had been seeking since first she set foot on the bus. Fear fell away from her and the numbness that had held her in its grip went with it; she felt herself expand and grow warm. Quickly and without forethought she slipped her arms around Bull's big neck and, raising herself on tiptoe, pressed a soft kiss on his mouth.
"I didn't want to forget that," she said, blushing for her own boldness.
"What makes you think I could forget it, honey? Not Bull. Listen, we can't talk here-no privacy, got to hang around here a couple of more hours. But I can get a pass easy. Why don't you go back to town and I'll pick you up there? We can have a little celebration, me and you."
"Can't we talk just for a few minutes?" The thought of going right back to town didn't sit well with Amy.
"I didn't know you was coming." Bull explained, "and I'm still on duty. I got fifteen minutes to come over here and see what was up, but I got to get back now."
"All right. Where shall I meet you?"
"Where you staying?"
"No," she said quickly. "Don't come there. I'll meet you somewheres."
"Okay. There's a place about half a mile out of town-you eare't miss it-Earl's Tavern. Say I meet you there about eight?"
"Pick me up in town, Bull. I don't want to wait there alone in case you come late."
"I won't be late, baby. But all right. At the bus stop in town. Eight o'clock."
She watched him as he strode off, her emotions a confusion of happiness at seeing him and disappointment at the short time of contact. But she was happy over the way things had gone and sure that she had not erred in coming. She hurried back to catch the bus before it left.
Amy made it a point not to be early for the appointment, not wanting to have to stand around and face the curious looks of passersby. She took a long time dressing, choosing a black dress that she had bought before coming. It was the first dress that Amy had ever selected that discarded her usual modesty. As she put it on she was aware of the fact that she was not ashamed of displaying her body, but rather wanted to do so for Bull. Hatless and wearing a green topper she came down the creaking stairs only to see the disapproving cold stare of Mrs. Cartison measuring her. The older woman turned sharply and walked into another room as Amy came abreast of her.
The click of her spiked heels sounded lonely on the dark street, but she was already accustomed to Millersville and it did not bother her. Rather she felt pleased at being wrapped for a while in soft darkness and not having to parade through a crowded street on her way to meet Bull.
She saw him half way up the street, towering above the others. He was leaning against the wall, idly searching for her. He looked so powerfully masculine to Amy that she thought no man in the world could compare to him. Then he saw her and waved in the breezy manner she associated with him. When she came up to him he grinned down at her in the way she had remember and Amy felt herself grow weak. All at once her shyness returned.
Earl's Tavern, where Bull took her, was a roadside bar that had languished until the Army camp had opened nearby. Now it was jumping with soldiers and coarse-looking hostesses in daringly-cut gowns, a box blaring in the background. There were leather-upholstered booths where couples could sit and Bull guided Amy to one of these.
"We'll have a few drinks, something to eat and a couple of dances and then we'll take off," Bull told Amy. "I've got a nice place to go after here."
Suddenly Amy knew what Bull meant and she grew tense, both with yearning for it to happen again and with fear that it would happen in the same way as before. The whole torturing problem thrust itself upon her now, breaking through the almost giddy state of mind that had held her since she saw Bull at the camp. She knew now that she would have to act tonight.
But no opportunity presented itself. She looked for her chance, trying to turn the conversation in a direction that would make it easier for her, but Bull was intent on a good time and did not notice her efforts. Amy finally gave up for the present and decided that in Bull's arms all her resolution weakened and her whole body cried out for his love.
When Bull had drunk and danced enough, he said "Come on, baby," and led her out, shouldering his way through a crowd of soldiers. He took her around to where he had parked the borrowed car for the evening, his arm draped around her. Amy could feel his strong fingers holding the flesh of her back tighten as they reached the car. He bent and pressed his mouth down on hers, cradling her head in his big hand.
She had no defense against him at this moment. All she had was a wildness that caught her, that made her thrust herself hard against him, that made her glory in the fierceness of his grip and the searing hunger of his mouth, that made all of her revel in the wantonness that was beyond thought and fear. It was for this that she had come and all her anxiety melted away under the heat of Bull's desire and her own, wanting nothing to spoil the love she had found. They clung to each other for what seemed to Amy a long time. It was only with reluctance that they loosed their hold on one another and stood away, each shaken by the knowledge of the other's hunger.
As they got into the car Amy did not question where they were going, content that she was with Bull and that he wanted her as much as ever. Because she was certain now of the outcome, convinced that Bull's embrace had been a declaration of intention that she could not mistake, she was ready to jeer at herself for her fears and her doubts.
Bull drove her back to town, out to the other side from where Amy was staying, turned off the main road and up a dark side street. He pulled up in front of a darkened cottage and stepped out of the car without a word. Amy looked around her, but they seemed to be quite alone and the house gave every indication of being empty. Puzzled, she followed him. It was not that anything about the setup alarmed her, but it did not seem quite to match what she had been thinking on the way here and her attitude was one of trying to reconcile the two rather than look for something out of line.
However, when Bull took a key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock, Amy could not down a strong sense of disquiet that came over her. She was not so blind that she could believe that this house was Bull's and that this was the way to spend a date. Yet she felt that she had doubted Bull unjustly up to now and at this point she suspended judgment on what happening, assuring herself that it was perfectly all right and that once more she would feel silly. Nevertheless the feeling of alarm persisted as she followed Bull into the cottage.
It did not lessen when Bull closed the door behind her and she heard the lock click. They were in a cheaply furnished cottage and the first thing that struck Amy's eye as she looked in was a long low, wide sofa sitting before a greystone fireplace that still had the dead remains of an old fire. Cheap print curtains shut off the windows and numerous ashtrays filled with cigarette butts testified to the fact that the place was used rather steadily. But to her confusion, Amy saw no indication other than this of people living here.
Bull wasted no time. Turning to her, he caught her in his arms. But somehow, though the desire was wild within her, Amy could not surrender fully to it this time, much as she wanted to. The strange house had rubbed her the wrong way, set her on her guard and reminded her strongly of the purpose of her journey. Even as she felt Bull's body hard against hers and his mouth bruising hers with its ferocious assault, a part of her mind remained shut against the elemental appeal of Bull's passion and held itself coolly aloof from Amy's own terrible desire.
The fire was in Amy as much as it was in Bull and she knew well how its heat could sear and burn. But suddenly Amy knew that never again could she have with Bull what she had shared with him back in the city. Slowly her embrace withered, her hands sliding down from their fierce lock around Bull's neck, her mouth growing slack and her body bending loosely in response only to his strength, but not to her own will.
Finally Bull noticed it too. He stared in puzzlement at her.
"What's the matter, baby?" he asked thickly.
"Why did you bring me here, Bull?" she asked softly. "Is it because you love me?"
It was a weakness that she did not like about herself when she did it, but Amy was afraid not to put the words in Bull's mouth. She was thinking hard, telling herself to handle it carefully, not to anger him, but to bring him around slowly to the point where each would have their will. Because Amy knew herself by now, knew that she would have no barrier against the storm of hunger that would come over her if Bull should meet her demands.
"Sure, baby," Bull said, "sure I love you. Didn't I tell you that back in town? And you love me too. That's why you come all the way up here to see me."
He reached out again, caught her by the wrist, and pulled her against him. Amy tried to hold back, but his arms wrapped around her in a crushing embrace. She did not fight it and part of her was ready now to surrender, to throw it all away and take the joy she knew would come if she permitted it. But when she felt him forcing her toward the sofa, she suddenly began to twist wildly in his arms, tearing her mouth from his frantically, beset by a fear she no longer tried to reason with.
"Wait," she gasped, "wait, Bull."
"I can't baby. I'm nuts about you, kid."
"If you love me, you'll marry me!" She managed to get the words out just before his mouth closed over hers. When she said them she felt instant relief and confidence that she had done the right thing.
The effect on Bull, however, was hardly one she had anticipated. He stopped in the midst of his embrace and stared at her with unbelieving eyes. Amy stepped away from Bull. She was waiting for his answer, but now she knew that she did not have to wait for words to know what it would be. The incredulous expression on Bull's face told her everything. He made a half-hearted motion to reach for her again, but when she stepped away he did not try to follow her.
"Marry you?" he said.
Then he started to laugh. Not hard, but softly, chuckling, as if to himself at a joke he had just remembered from the past, a joke that he had not understood but which had just come to him. Suddenly he stopped laughing and shook his head from side to side as if what she had said was just too much too be believed.
"You're kidding," he said flatly. "You didn't come up here thinking I was going to marry you. You came up here because you had a yen for old Bull. And don't worry about a thing, baby, I'll take care of it." He stepped toward her again.
Amy, frightened, backed away hurriedly, afraid not so much of Bull, but of her own treacherous body which might yield despite everything. It was a misery to her that she still wanted him, that her yearning was even greater now than it had been before.
"Don't," she warned tensely. "I'll scream." It stopped him.
"Take it easy, baby," he said with unaccustomed gentleness. "Nobody's going to hurt you. But nobody's going to marry you either. Leastwise Bull ain't going to marry you. That's for sure. You're a nice kid, but I don't aim to get myself hitched. Plenty of dames go for Bull. Plenty. But take it easy and nobody's going to hurt you."
He still wanted her, Amy guessed. He didn't want to marry her, but she could tell from his manner that he wanted her. Just as she still wanted him. A desperate thought occurred to her. She would have to break off from him and hope that his wanting her would increase to the point where he would come back, that he would want her enough to marry her. If only she could be strong enough to hold out.
"I'm going out of here, Bull. Don't try to stop me because I'm not going to stay. I wish I could say I hate you for laughing, but I don't. However, I'm not going to have anything to do with you this way.
She started toward the door afraid to look at Bull as she did. She did not know if she was afraid because he would stop her or because he would not. Her legs felt very stiff but she managed her exit with a dignity of which she was not aware. Bull watched her, still not believing that this was happening to him, but with an attitude of amused toleration of something peculiar. Just before she reached the door, he said:
"Wait a minute, Amy, and I'll take you home. After all, I'm not such a bad guy. I'm not sore about what happened. Maybe I killed a night and spent a couple of bucks, but I had a good time while it lasted."
"You're not angry!" she exploded. "You spent money! Why, you-you just made a fool of me, and you re not angry!"
She rushed out of the house and slammed the door behind her. Down the street she ran, eager to get as far away from him and the scene of her humiliation as she could. Her heels clicked sharply in the sound pursued Tier until she was forced to stop, completely out of breath. She could hear no other sounds besides her own labored breathing and it was clear that Bull had made no attempt to follow her.
Holding back the tears now proved impossible and Amy let herself go, relieving herself of the terrible tension of desire and frustration, of pride and humiliation that had accumulated in her. She leaned against a tree and wept.
Finally, she managed to stop crying and set out to find Mrs. Cartison's again. She avoided Main Street, not wanting people to see her tear-streaked face. Stumbling in the darkness, she at last found Mrs. Cartison's. As she climbed the stairs she was sure the woman heard her, but she didn't care. All she wanted was the forgetfulness that would come with sleep.
CHAPTER FOUR
The sun was just as bright the next morning and the birds were chattering just as gaily as the day before. It took Amy several minutes before the knowledge of her misery broke through to her when she awoke. Bitterness came to her quickly at the sight of her dress, lying crumpled on the floor.
It reminded her that Bull had failed her and she wept anew.
It was not for some time that the extent of her misery dawned on Amy. All she was aware of at first was the renewal of the pain of the night before, of the knowledge of having been spurned in a particularly degrading manner. But, despite her continuing desire for Bull, she knew that deep down she preferred it to have happened this way than for her to have succumbed to him.
Not that it was consolation for her right now. On the contrary she had moments of deep despair in which she mocked herself for being a prude and charged herself with hypocrisy for having started with Bull and then cut it short out of faint-heartedness.
It was the sight of Mrs. Cartison that really brought her down to earth with a bang. When Amy came downstairs to breakfast and saw her landlady's cold face regarding her with a malevolent stare, she suddenly got a glimpse into the enormity of her dilemma.
"Out with some soldier last light?" Mrs. Cartison inquired spitefully.
Amy stared at her and did not answer.
"All the girls think of nowadays is to pick up with some trash in uniform and go off drinking and dancing and what not every night," the older woman continued. "Cheap fancy dresses that just about cover and that's all, high heels, nylon stockings, painted and smoking, they go running off every night." She turned and stared coldly at Amy. "I heard you coming in last night."
Amy bit her underlip and tried to control herself.
"I guess you're a light sleeper," she said. "I was very quiet."
"You came in early." The way Mrs. Cartison said it, it was almost an accusation.
Amy had to fight hard not to show tears in her eyes. Mrs. Cartison might have nothing but vile words for the girls who went out with soldiers, but a sure instinct told Amy that her contempt would be even greater for a girl who wanted one and could not get him.
"I didn't want to stay up late," she said, timidly. "See your boy friend?"
So malicious was her tone that Amy for one frightened moment was sure that Mrs. Cartison either knew or had guessed the truth. As she glanced up at her, startled, Amy could see she was wrong. It was just that her landlady was filled with unhealthy curiosity about the goings and comings of the girls in town.
Amy ate her meal in silence. As quickly as was graceful she made her escape from Mrs. Cartison and went back up to her room. There in her loneliness the whole truth of her situation flooded over her and again she almost took refuge in tears. She had burned her bridges behind her: she had told family and friends that she was going to be married, left home and had come to Millersville. Now she was here, but she was not going to be married at all.
To go home again was unthinkable. But to stay was impossible. What could she possibly do in Millersville? And with something like fifty dollars to her name?
But she could not leave. It would mean giving up all hope of having Bull and Amy could not bring herself to do that. The desperate thought of the night before remained with her, a last hope to which she clung, perhaps more out of pride than anything else. Yet she had come here because of Bull, come several hundred miles and abandoned her whole previous life so that she could have him. Was she now to give up any hope for that and go slinking home, humiliated and defeated?
No. Bull still wanted her. She knew that. She had been able to see it even last night. She would have to be strong, Amy told herself, and wait for the desire to grow big with Bull, big enough so that despite everything he would come and beg for her. The scene came to her even now and she thought of how Bull would return, shame-faced and humble, begging for her. She tried to think of herself spurning him then, but there the dream broke down and she was back with her problem.
Quickly she decided that she would stay nevertheless. With the decision despair was dissipated somewhat and hope returned. The first thing she would have to do, Amy thought, was to get a job. Much cheered by her decision, she checked her appearance in the mirror and left her room. If she were to look, she would do well to start at once.
The mood of false gaiety vanished quickly. No matter how she squirmed, the humiliating experience she had endured remained with her and she was not the same girl now as the one who had so blithely climbed into the bus two days before in New York.
That Millersville was not New York Amy soon discovered. Finding a job was easier said than done in this little town. First off, she didn't know where to look or whom to see. It was not a town where people worked, but a place mainly where they lived. Most of the men worked elsewhere, in small factories and stores around the area. Millersville itself was a place where there were a few stores that serviced the town and the surrounding countryside. But there were no offices or shops and the only kind of a job she might be able to get was in a store waiting on customers.
Amy didn't like the idea of that, but she decided that she could not be choosy. She tried a large drug store with a soda fountain, but she was told quickly that there was nothing available. Within an hour she had finished with Millersville as far as jobs were concerned. There were none.
Amy considered trying another town, but she was too shy to ask anybody where she should look and by now discouragement began to set in and she called it a day by noon time. There was nothing for her to do. She walked around aimlessly until she got tired and suddenly discovered just how much alone she was.
She knew no one in town but Mrs. Cartison and had no one to talk to. There was no place for her to go. There wasn't even a movie in town.
A movie! That was it, she thought. If she went to the town where the movie was she was sure that there would also be jobs there, too. It was sure to be a bigger town. Her discouragement faded momentarily, but she was in the grip of indecision and she could not get up the initiative to go. Tomorrow would do just as well, she decided.
She went the next day after breakfast, taking the bus to the town. To her surprise the place was not much different from Millersville. It was bigger and there was some small industry where all the people worked. At several places she stopped and asked for work, but at each place she got a distinct, though courteous, refusal. Finally, she went to the movie and lost herself in the story of some other girl's troubles with love. But that girl didn't have the problem she had-far from it. Amy would gladly have exchanged problems with the girl in the movie, even if she didn't know that it would have a happy ending. Her own story didn't even seem to have a beginning in the script, let alone a happy ending.
It was dark when she got back to Mrs. Cartison's and the darkness reflected her mood. She went straight to her room and lay on the bed, discouraged and bitter. She had gotten herself into a blind alley and she could see no way out for herself. For a long time she lay there thinking, but her thoughts went round in a circle, coming back to her plight. She was angry at Bull for having done this to her. She could not dream of him coming back to her in her present state of mind, but if she had, her dream would have had greater emphasis on revenge than on love at this moment. She fell asleep in her clothes with the light on.
Ten days went by in the fruitless fashion. Ten days in which Amy pretended she was really looking for a job, that Bull would come to her, and everything would turn out well. Now the time had come when she could pretend no longer. Her carefully nursed funds had dipped below the five-dollar mark and this would not last much longer.
In the ten days she had met no one. For a girl as pretty as Amy this was surprising. But she had lived in such a way that it was inevitable. She had wandered aimlessly about the area looking for jobs where there could be none and at night she had returned to her room, obsessed with her plight and unable to free herself from the deadly repetitive pattern which had governed her actions since she fled the cottage and Bull. People she might have met, who might have in some way been able to help her at least find a job, had never even seen her. Amy-had, in fact, buried herself since the breakup of her affair with Bull and it had not really been accidental.
Now she came out of the self-induced anesthesia with which she had dulled the pain of what had happened to her. Her plight would not allow her to continue in this way and Amy knew that she had to make at least one more effort. What would happen when that effort failed she was afraid to face.
Her thoughts still turned on Bull. If she could just see him again, she thought, perhaps it would be different. She tried to think of him wanting to find her but being unable to, but she could not swallow that kind of self-deception any longer.
Amy knew that she could not go back to camp to see Bull. That would lower her too much in his eyes. The only way was to run into him by a contrived type of accident. But how? She could think of nothing. Her mind went back to the night she had spent with him and she went over it carefully looking for a clue. She found one thing, but it did not seem like much hope. But there was nothing else that occurred to her and finally she resolved on it as her one opportunity.
She dressed carefully in the same dress she had worn that night with Bull. Before leaving she surveyed herself carefully in the mirror. Her lovely young bosom thrust itself hard against the thin confinement of the black material, her white flesh warm and inviting where the dress dipped low into the hollow. The bodice clung to her, fitting snugly at her tapering waist and holding to the soft line of her body until it reached the curve of her hips, where it flared out widely. Damn, she thought, she was pretty enough and she just had to succeed this time.
Mrs. Cartison heard her and was there to watch her exit. Amy tossed her head and marched past her without a word. Only at the door did she turn and say goodnight, her smile as full of dislike as Mrs. Cartison's frown.
She walked quickly to Main St. and came to the bus stop, where she waited. The bus was filled with couples and she squirmed at the thought of herself being alone. She could have remedied that easily enough, but she recalled her experience with Bull with too much bitterness to pick up a soldier again. For. whatever it was worth, this night she would have to go alone and find her way by herself.
She got off the bus at Earl's Tavern, where Bull had taken her. It was just a long shot, but there was a chance Bull might be there. At the door she hesitated, overcome with fear and shyness. It was not a place where a girl should come alone, she thought. But it was her only chance and she had to take it. Summoning enough courage she went in.
It was early and the place had not yet come alive. There was no sight of Bull and as several soldiers at the bar began to eye her with interest Amy went quickly to one of the booths and sat down. From there she could see all who entered.
CHAPTER FIVE
It became difficult for Amy to maintain her privacy in that place for any length of time. Most soldiers who spotted her assumed she was waiting for someone. But after several drinks and close to an hour had gone by and she remained alone, they decided she was fair game and began drifting over to her booth. She did her best to get rid of them, but it began to be a game with them, a joke about who had the best technique to break down the "dame in the booth."
The parade became constant and Amy was subjected to every variety of "line" she could possibly have heard in a lifetime. If Bull had come in he would have had difficulty spotting her because of the group of GIs bantering about her. At another time Amy might have found several of the soldiers nice, but right now her anger at the situation in which she had unwittingly placed herself turned on the GIs. She began to develop a thorough dislike for all soldiers.
She had to have several drinks in order to keep her place at the table and her waitress, a tall loose-limbed girl with a lackluster complexion and a perpetual sneer on her thin lips, had to shoulder aside a cluster of soldiers to get to the table.
"You really waiting for somebody or you just trying to collect a crowd, honey?" she inquired with studied insolence. "The boss don't like no competition from free lancers."
Amy didn't answer her, but when the waitress had left her drink and gone, she looked around her with a more discerning eye to see what the girl had meant by her remark about competition. It did not take her long to find out. In her intentness on Bull she had not bothered to notice the place. Now she saw that it was not only a tavern, but that it had other features as well. In the back, though she could not see, she could tell by the sounds that some kind of games were in progress. There was a steady stream of soldiers and girls going in and out and she could hear the sounds of occasional loud voices. She guessed that it was a gambling room although she'd never been in one, and for a moment she had a strong desire to find out.
The girls lounging either at the bar or in booths with soldiers, were of a varying degree of attractiveness. Several were young, full-bodied and gay, wearing low-cut gowns with slit skirts. There were older women also, women whose full bodies pushed fleshily against gowns that were tight for them, whose faces were expressionless behind the layers of makeup and fatigue that concealed their true selves.
Amy was still engrosed in watching the hostesses when a tall slim young man, flashily dressed in sports clothes, came up to her table, elbowed aside several soldiers and sat down opposite her.
"These fellows bothering you, Miss?"
Amy looked at him, startled. He had black hair, parted on the left side and smoothed down, grey eyes which were cold and bright, a nose that was small and pinched, thin lips and a firm chin. Not particularly handsome, but not bad-looking either. He did not seem particularly robust, but Amy got the feeling that his slimness had a strength far greater than it seemed to have.
Her reaction to his sudden appearance was one of hostility, which was reinforced by his manner of studied disdain. She could think of no reason why this stranger should adopt this attitude toward her and she stared at him coldly for a few moments before replying.
"Not nearly so much as you are," she said at last. The man studied her, his eyes taking in the cut of her gown and then coming back to her face. "You waiting for someone?" he asked. She got angry.
"I don't see that it's any of your business," she snapped.
"Look," he said wearily, "I'm Earl. Earl Rommel. It's my business because it's my place. If you're waiting for somebody, then okay, forget I ever said anything. But if you're not...."
Amy bridled.
"Do you insult all the girls who come in here, Mr. Rommel?" she demanded.
He grinned suddenly with a boyishness that took Amy by surprise.
"No," he said, still grinning. "I don't know enough words to insult most of the dames that come in here. And if I did, I still don't know if they'd be insulted. Anyway, I apologize. I see I made a mistake about you, Miss...."
He paused, obviously waiting for Amy to supply her name. But she didn't, still angered that he had mistaken her for a different kind of a girl.
"I'm glad you've got the decency to apologize," she said stiffly.
He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
"Well, to tell you the truth, we don't get many girls like you coming in here. At least, not alone. How'd you happen to come?"
She hesitated, not wanting to betray herself or appear ridiculous in his eyes.
"I-I was waiting for someone." As she said it her shyness return and she blushed.
The last trace of hostility and doubt vanished from Rommel's eyes and he smiled at her in a friendly way.
"Soldier?" he asked. She nodded.
"He's not coming any more tonight," he said.
"I-I wasn't sure, that is, he wasn't sure if he could get a pass," she lied. "He said for me to wait for him here."
"Boy friend?"
She shook her head.
"No." Her answer surprised her. "Just a friend of a friend."
"Well, he won't come any more tonight," Rommel said. "If he got his pass, he would be here by now if he was coming."
"I suppose you're right," she said, a little sadly.
"I feel a little foolish about it."
"Mind dancing with the boss?"
She seemed greatly surprised. Why not? she thought. At least he wasn't another soldier. And if Bull should happen to come in, well it would be just fine if he saw her dancing.
"Mind? Not at all, I'd love to." She smiled brightly at him.
He was a good dancer and she was pleased to see that he did not hold her tightly as it seemed to be the style in his place. The floor was crowded, however, and already several of the soldiers were drunk and reeling around, bumping into the dancers and it turned out to be not much fun. Rommel stopped in the middle of the dance.
"I guess we haven't had enough to drink to enjoy it," he smiled.
He guided her back to the booth, but Amy decided that she would not stay any longer since Bull wasn't coming.
"I think I'll be going now," she said.
"Have another drink," he urged. "It's . all on the house. Please, wait a few minutes. I'll be right back."
He walked away quickly and signaled the waitress to come to her table. Undecided, Amy sat down and waited. The waitress was there, looking at her with a pained expression.
"Wouldn't you tell me you was waiting for the boss?" she demanded in a whining voice. "You want to get me in trouble with the boss?"
"I didn't tell him anything," Amy protested.
The girl winked at her and smiled.
"Thanks," she said. "Lots of girls like to see another girl get in trouble. But not me. If a girl gets a break, that's okay with Mamie. I'm Mamie. I figure it's a help to the rest of us."
Mamie caught sight of Rommel returning and hurried away.
"Have that drink yet?" he asked. "I'm going into town. Can I give you a lift?"
"Oh, I don't want to be any trouble to you, Mr. Rommel."
"No trouble. A pleasure. And call me Earl."
Earl's car was a convertible and as she went out with him to the parking lot the memory of her embrace with Bull suddenly swept over Amy, causing her to shudder. He noticed it and asked her if she were cold and she shook her head. She didn't want to talk now, recalling her ardor and the extent of her deception with renewed pain.
Earl was holding the door of his car open for her and she slid in, not even noticing him. Her mind was on Bull now, a mixture of poignant hope and slowly bubbling anger that gave promise of turning into hate. He had to pay, she thought fiercely, he had to pay for the hurt he had given her. But when she thought of hurting him she grew weak and could not even carry the thought through to conclusion, let alone actually do it.
"Where to?" Earl cut in on her thoughts.
"To town, of course," she said.
"Which town?"
She stared at him.
"Millersville, of course."
"We got other towns around here," he smiled. "Just here on a trip?"
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I might stay," she said with pretended casualness. He looked interested at that. "Any special reason?" She knew what he meant.
"No," she lied again. "It seems sort of nice out here, that's all."
He looked at her again and Amy was suddenly fearful that he didn't believe her. Then she pushed away her nervousness, reminding herself that she had nothing to worry about, even if he did. Earl was nothing to her and she had no cause to concern herself with what he thought of her.
"Then why don't you stay?" he said after a pause.
"I'd have to get a job," she said. "And, anyway, I'm not sure."
"A girl with your looks," he said, "a job wouldn't be much of a problem."
Was he hinting? Amy thought with quick excitement. Then she shrivelled at the thought of working there. A hostess! She remembered what's he had been noticing when first he had approached, how a regular parade of men and women, in pairs, had slipped away from the bar and gone off, not to the gambling room, but up a flight of stairs in the back. It suddenly occurred to her that this was the reason that Bull had accepted her leaving with such composure.
"Thanks," she said dryly, "I don't think I'm suited for that kind of work."
Earl laughed.
"I didn't mean that," he said. "But if you need a job, that's as good as any. You don't have to go all the way. Those that want to can, the others don't. It's just business."
Her face reflected her shocked reaction and they laughed again. They were on Main St. now and she gave him the directions to Mrs. Cartison's.
"That dame! How'd you happen to pick out her place?"
She told him.
"He was just enjoying himself at your expense. That dame is always poking her nose into everybody's business."
When he was talking like this Earl looked like a mean and vicious little boy, though Amy guessed he must have been about thirty. The car pulled up outside the house and she started to get out. Earl got out with her.
"How about a date?" he said.
She looked uncertain and he went on.
"Tomorrow," he said. "After all, I don't get many chances at meeting a girl like you."
She made up her mind quickly. After all, she had no reason to wait for Bull and she had no money of her own. It meant that all she would have to spend the next day was money for lunch. Besides, it might even turn out to be fun.
"All right, Earl," she said. "Tomorrow."
"Pick you up at eight."
She heard the car pull away as she mounted the stairs. There was no sign of Mrs. Cartison. She went into her room and leaned against the door, listening for evidence of her landlady's prying. Sure enough she heard her footsteps prowling through the lower part of the house. Amy smiled to herself.
The encounter with Earl, her observations of the hostesses at his place and his remark about her looks, caused Amy to examine herself in a different way. He was a new kind of man to her, older than any she had ever known, a man who took for granted the more devious ways of the world, who laughed at moral strictures and did not consider them at all important. Girls were the same to him, but divided into two categories, attractive and unattractive. Rather shrewdly she guessed that willingness to meet Earl Rommel's demands might form a decisive part of what he considered attractive.
Yet he himself did not strike her as a man of whom she had to be afraid. Before her experience with Bull Amy knew that she would never have felt this way about a man like Rommel. But now she felt that she could handle him. And she was proud of her new maturity.
Her body too came in for a new kind of examination. Before Amy had always been somewhat ashamed of it, had considered nakedness a state that one never even thought about. Yet now as she undressed she saw it as she thought Earl would see it. What had set her in motion had been Earl's remark about the girls who worked for him.
All along she had known she was a pretty girl with a good figure. Now, however, for the first time the general description had narrowed itself down in her mind, had become something that applied only to her, to the exact proportions of her round breasts, to the tapering of her waist, to the fullness of her hips and the fleshed shapeliness of her legs. This was she, Amy, a girl with a body that men wanted, desirable, lovely, yes, even beautiful. It was with regret that she finally turned off the light and went to bed.
* * *
She would have liked to have had another dress to wear for her date with Earl, but there was nothing she could do about that. Since she could not change her dress, Amy decided that she would change her hairdo. She spent the whole afternoon before the mirror until she worked out one that she felt suited her. When she surveyed the result in the mirror she felt a thrill of satisfaction. She looked like an entirely different girl from the Amy who had arrived in Millersville less than two weeks before.
Earl arrived promptly at eight and honked his horn. Amy guessed that he didn't want to come in because of Mrs. Cartison and on her way down she saw the older woman peering through the window. It occurred to her that Mrs. Cartison would surely disapprove of Earl, but now she didn't care.
As she had hoped it was the new hairdo that Earl noticed and Amy was pleased with his reaction and with her own foresight.
"That's a little too good for the GIs," he laughed. "We'll take a busman's holiday tonight and go to the Country Club for dinner. I'll have to check in at the place later though."
The Country Club was hardly as crowded as Earl's Tavern and Amy remarked on it. This pleased Earl no end.
"You got an eye for the important thing, Amy," he said. "They got class here, but they ain't got no customers. Leave it to Earl. You saw my place. Well, two years ago it was a rundown joint for truck drivers. I got it for almost nothing. Now look at it. There's money rolling in seven nights a week. I take in more in one night than this joint does in a week. And I charge less than half. Maybe they got an orchestra, but I got the best bands working for me right in the old jukebox."
Amy realized that Earl was trying to impress her, but she could not guess why. However, he told her quickly enough.
"You know," he confessed, "you're the first girl from New York I ever had on a date."
"Really," said Amy. "Well, you're the first man from Millersville I even let date me up."
They both laughed. Amy knew that Earl had set her up in his mind as a sophisticated girl from New York and she forced herself to play the role.
As they danced she asked him about himself. A picture formed in her mind of a small-town youth with no taste for work and an immense desire for an easy and quick buck. He was filled with a sense of his own importance now and readily bragged of how rich he was getting out of his roadside joint.
"Isn't gambling illegal?" she asked naively.
That gave him a big laugh.
"Yeah," he said, "it's illegal if the law says so. But if the law can't see-or don't want to see-then everything's okay."
"And all the rest of it" she continued.
He looked at her sharply and Amy guessed that this wasn't as open as he pretended it was.
"That," he said. "That's got nothing to do with me. I run a clean place. Whatever the girls want to do, that's their own business. They're over twenty-one and I can't run their lives. They get paid as hostesses and that's all."
A bold idea occurred to Amy and she smiled as if she didn't believe him. If he had that idea of her, she thought, there was no reason for her to show him otherwise.
"You don't have to convince me," she said coolly.
After a while Earl had to check in at his place and they drove there quickly. It was a warm and clear night and the stars were shining brightly. At this moment problems seemed far away to Amy who was enjoying the farce she was playing with Earl. He pulled into the parking lot and guided her into a side entrance.
"We don't have to let all those GIs give you the eye," he said.
Inside he took her to the gambling room and showed her around.
"Want to try your luck?" he asked. "Here. Use house money. If you win, it's yours. If you lose, well, you've had your fun. I got some business and this'll keep you busy."
He pushed a stack of chips into her hand and was off. The idea of gambling excited Amy and, like all novices, she chose the roulette wheel because of the glamor she attributed to it. The game fascinated her and within an hour she was winning. How much, she had no idea. Then Earl came back and grinned when he saw her stack of chips. "You won," he said.
"Isn't that supposed to happen?" She was gay and flushed with excitement.
"Just to you," he said, but he wasn't smiling. There was something in his tone that Amy recognized, a warm throb that made everything, the most trivial remark, seem personal. "Come on, let's cash in those chips."
To her amazement she had won almost a hundred dollars, which was more than she had when she arrived in Millersville. All at once Amy seemed to be sitting on top of the world. Earl liked her, she had enough money to carry her until she found a job and she would still have a chance to get Bull back.
Earl wanted to leave and she followed. As she came out of the room the first person she saw was Bull. He was at the bar very drunk with each arm around one of the hostesses. And he was singing. The words of the song were blurred but enough of them came through to make Amy recoil with shock. Bull was looking right at her, but she could tell that he did not see her. In fact, it was a question if he would have recognized her at all. Amy tried hard to blink back the tears so that Earl wouldn't see them.
"I want a drink," she said to Earl in a strained voice.
"Something the matter?" he asked quickly.
"No," she snapped irritably. "I just want a drink."
He signaled the bartender who came quickly.
So that was whom she was waiting for, Amy thought. She wanted him and all he wanted was a chippy for the night. Now she felt ten times a fool for having wanted him at all. Earl brought her the drink and she drank it very quickly.
"Another one," she said and handed him the empty glass.
Bull, she thought, Bull could have had her, but he preferred the others. And Earl too, he probably preferred the others. They were all alike. She recalled her friend Paula who had always been the one the boys went for first and now, thinking about Paula, she remembered things that she had not understood but which now pointed unmistakably to what Paula had been doing. The men had known right away. They could tell, Amy thought. And they had invariably chosen Paula. She drank the second drink Earl brought her and felt it go down hotly and then spread warmly out from her stomach.
"Let's go," she said to Earl.
She had been a fool. It ran through her mind over and over again, superimposed on the picture of Bull drunkenly pawing the two girls and singing the bawdy ditty. It was a picture that made her writhe at having ever loved Bull, at having wanted him to have her again, at having ever had a moment's misery because of him. He was just a man, she told herself, who wanted what all men wanted.
But even as she thought it the memory of his great body pushed its way into her consciousness and momentarily obliterated her anger. It was a shocking thing that happened to Amy at this point and it was possibly helped by the two stiff drinks of whiskey she had downed. She had wanted from Bull what he had wanted from her!
It had nothing to do with love at all. She had been old enough, her body had been ready for it and she had gone out after it. All the stuff about love had been something she had made up to fool herself so that she would go ahead with what she wanted and not draw back in fear. Bull had seen in her an attractive girl and she had seen in him an attractive man and nature had done the rest-with a little assist from Amy's naivete.
The car came to a halt and Amy snapped out of it. She had forgotten all about Earl and she was afraid that he might have caught on, but there was nothing to indicate it. He had pulled up alongside the road at the top of a hill that commanded an immense view. The dark valley spread before their eyes for miles and miles. Far off Amy could see lights shining brightly. Earl slipped his arm around her shoulder and Amy slid a little closer to him. The drinks had command of her now and she was a little dizzy and her legs felt weak. She was glad that she did not have to do any talking now.
Earl kissed her. She didn't stop him and he kissed her again. The kiss began to work through to her, to reach the dormant desire that was waiting to be roused again. Her mouth opened and her tongue met his in a little darting lick of fire. The kiss became a long hard embrace, body crushed against body.
"Amy, I love you," Earl breathed huskily.
Amy pushed him away roughly.
"Don't talk about love," she said viciously. "Let's go."
He looked at her in amazement and reached for her again. She tried to hold him off, but he was insistent and she finally allowed him, but without responding.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
She looked at him and didn't know herself why she acted the way she did. What was the matter with her? Why not talk about love? Just because of Bull? Was Bull the only one to have pleasure?
"Kiss me again," she told him.
Now she didn't hold back and she let her desires have their way. Each second of the kiss was a promise of pleasure to come and they prolonged it as long as they could. Finally, they broke it off.
"I'm nuts about you, Amy," he breathed.
"Don't talk," she said huskily. "Let's go quickly."
She sat pressed against him as he drove rapidly over the nearly empty highway, their headlights searching the trees and the fields around curves. Neither spoke, their bodies conversing for them. The car hurtled ahead, impelled by their desire for haste. He pulled up with a screech of brakes and tires before a darkened house. It reminded Amy of the cottage she had gone to with Bull and she shuddered. Then she followed him in.
His arms went around her and she thrust herself hard against him, rapturing in the hardness of his body and the soft yielding of her own. Their embrace was one of fire, engulfing them in a universe of their own.
Then he lifted her and carried her into the house. She squirmed around so that she could kiss him and embrace him again. Amy did not want to know or think, but only act. All her frustrations of the present merged in the mighty current of passion that caught her up.
His hands raced over her body, peeling back her blouse, opening her bra. She felt cool air suddenly on her breasts as he bared them, and her nipples began to grow stiff and to throb as his fingers gently caressed them. He slipped away the rest of her clothing and stroked her skin lightly, in a way that sent tingling delight through her.
She caught him to her with a wild moan. Everything, the anguish and the frustration, the hurt and the hunger, united into a surging wave that engulfed her. Their bodies joined; her mouth opened to his, and she became dizzy with ecstasy as his grip tightened on her bosom.
Now there was the wondrous thing she had known before, the pinnacle that was anguish and ecstasy in one, bathing her in pleasure and leaving her limp and spent in the darkness. Amy let it ebb, holding close to Earl so that it would not depart too quickly.
But then it was gone; he was Earl again and she was Amy. But gone also was the torment about Bull. Not that she thought of it because she did not. Instead there was peace and contentment inside her. Then she fell asleep.
CHAPTER SIX
Amy was a different girl the next day. She remembered getting back to Mrs. Cartison's very late, making Earl take her even though he wanted her to stay the night. But that had been last night when she still had thought it was important that Mrs. Cartison did not know. Today when she awoke she knew that if it came up again she could handle Mrs. Cartison and that she would not care what Mrs. Cartison thought or said.
She was pleased with herself. That was one of the new things that had happened to Amy. She could not recall when she had actually approved of herself before. Any action she had undertaken had always been a compound of doubts, fears and hesitation that had been overcome only by the application of sufficient external pressure.
So it had threatened to be last night, but it had been the sight of Bull that had liberated her from doubt. Strangely enough she had achieved something from her betrayal by Bull, something she felt would never desert her as long as she lived. With Earl it had had been an accident, a result of the mistake Earl had made in estimating her that had willy-nilly put her in the role of a self-assured woman. Now she knew she enjoyed it, that it was a way she had always wanted to be but had feared to reach out and take it for herself.
Amy luxuriated in the feeling. Never had she felt so free, so able to live as she pleased, to suit only herself and no one else. When she thought of how she had dreamed over Bull now she was able to laugh at herself, ridiculing her naive dependence on his approval. And when it had not come as she had hoped she had been plunged into total despair. That would never happen again, Amy was sure. If any despair resulted from her life, she would be sure that from now on it was not Amy who felt it.
There was another way also in which Amy knew herself more frankly than she had before. This morning she could face the fact of her physical appetite without a sense of shame of fear. Secretly, she was grateful to Bull for that. Recalling her frenzied passion the night before Amy was able to see that was how she was. And, since it was something that all men wanted, she was glad that she had a lovely body. Her beauty and her knowledge were the instruments she would use to further herself from now on.
Earl called for her shortly after noon. She saw him from her window when she was still in bed and she paid no attention to his honking of the horn. If he wanted to see her, he could come in and wait. Watching indolently she saw him climb out of the convertible finally and come up the walk. She heard Mrs. Cartison going to the door, but she could not hear what they said, although she could guess that Mrs. Cartison was telling Earl he could not visit her room. At last she heard the sound of Mrs. Cartison climbing the stairs.
"Come in," she called in answer to the knock.
Mrs. Cartison's face was a study in mixed emotions-angered at being forced to carry a message to Amy, disapproval of men calling on her roomers and, finally, complete shock at finding Amy in bed and naked at that. She stood by the door forgetting to close it, her small eyes glittering nastily and taking in the whole scene-Amy languid and amused, her clothes strewn in disorder and the shade not drawn. Then she opened her mouth and closed it without speaking. Amy giggled.
"There's a man to see you," the landlady snapped.
Amy grinned wickedly.
"Send him up, please," she said.
Mrs. Cartison's eyes widened at that.
"No visitors in the rooms," she said flatly.
Amy sighed.
"Oh, isn't that too bad?" she said quietly. "And I was planning on staying indefinitely. Such a nice room too, even if it is a little small. I suppose I'll have to find another somewheres."
Mrs. Cartison stopped in the act of turning to leave. Amid all the other emotions that struggled for expression on her face a new one showed itself. Greed. She remained frozen in immobility for more than a minute while the silent struggle fought within her. Greed won.
"How long were you planning on staying?" Her voice had taken on a wheedling, insinuating quality.
Amy shrugged her bare shoulders, deliberately letting the blanket slip so that almost all of one breast was revealed.
"Oh, perhaps permanently," she said indifferently. "I sort of like Millersville."
Mrs. Cartison's eyes glittered.
"Oh, in that case it's different," she said quickly. "If you're a steady roomer, not a transient, you certainly would have to be able to have visitors."
"And I'd like a larger room too," Amy said in the same languid manner. "With two windows."
"That would be fifteen dollars a week just for the room," she said with finality.
"And I want my breakfast whenever I get up, even if it's afternoon," Amy continued, ignoring her.
Mrs. Cartison set her mouth tight.
"I have to charge for that too," she said grimly. "Another five dollars."
Amy smiled.
"How much does it come to, Mrs. Cartison?"
One breast, white and rosy-tipped, escaped the concealment of the blanket, but Mrs. Cartison forgot to be scandalized, occupied as she was with higher mathematics.
"Twenty-five dollars a week," she said. She could not control the faint reflection of an inner smile showing at the corners of her mouth.
"Twenty-two and it's settled," Amy said calmly.
The smile vanished from the corners of Mrs. Cartison's mouth.
"I can't go down on my rates," she said.
"Then I'll have to look elsewhere," Amy said. "Please send the gentleman up."
Mrs. Cartison's eyes snapped wide again at the abrupt end of what she had expected to be a siege of bargaining. She hesitated and, therefore, lost.
"All right," she said, bowing to the inevitable. "Twenty-two dollars it is."
"Oh, that's sweet of you," Amy smiled, "Would you hand me that blue robe that's hanging in the closet, please? "
It was the flimsiest negligee Amy owned, but it was a lesson she wanted to drive home clearly to Mrs. Cartison. She was sure that up to arson Mrs. Cartison would tolerate anything for twenty-two dollars a week.
When the landlady handed her the robe, Amy stepped quickly from her bed and let her gape at her nude torso before she slipped into the negligee. Then she deliberately walked between the window and Mrs. Cartison, so that the sunlight behind her revealed every line of her body, and standing there before the woman's astonished gaze, asked her to send Earl up. It was only the twenty-two dollars which Mrs. Cartison could see, however, and she turned and went out, leaving Amy convulsed with silent laughter.
Earl came into the room without knocking and stopped dead when he saw Amy as Mrs. Cartison had seen her, the sunlight piercing the flimsy material of the negligee. He pushed the door shut behind him with a slam and stepped quickly toward her with the intention of kissing her.
Amy quickly forestalled him.
"Not in the morning," she said with a laugh.
By daylight, Amy thought, Earl did not look particularly handsome, his complexion sallow and his face pinched. His eyes had a darting shifting manner which she had not noticed before, which gave him a quality of furtiveness and emphasized what he was, a small-time operator in a small-time place. Still, there was no reason why Amy should not share his loot.
"You come to buy me breakfast?"
"More than breakfast," he boasted. "What?" she teased. "Whatever you want."
She laughed, a rich hearty laugh such as she never had before, one that set her breasts shaking.
"You want me to be your girl, Earl?"
He caught on to the fact that she was teasing him and he stepped close to her and caught her by the shoulders.
"Sure," he said harshly. "I'll be good to you, Amy. I'm crazy about you and I want you to stay here with me."
She wriggled out of his grip, still smiling. "I told you I need a job," she said. "What for? I'll take care of that." She shook her head.
"I want to stay here, if I stay. I won't live with you."
"You can work at my place," he said. "Not like the others. I mean you can walk around, kid the guys along and that's all. I'll pay you."
"How much?"
She had cornered him neatly, but the braggart in him would not admit it and he played out the part she had assigned him. He shrugged his shoulders, as if it were a matter of indifference to him.
"A hundred," he said. "Every week?"
"Every week." He smiled, anticipating her acceptance.
"I need clothes," she said, driving the bargain harder.
He wasn't going to quibble now. "Let's go get them."
"Not your local stuff," she said. "Nice clothes."
"I know the place. Come on, get dressed. We've got some traveling to do."
Amy smiled lazily, triumphantly.
"All right, Earl," she said softly. "But turn around."
Dressing with a man in the room gave Amy a delightful feeling of maturity along with the sense of wickedness that pleased her. She took her time, knowing also that the sound of her padding around behind him could not be restful to Earl. All in all she was quite pleased with the way things had turned out. Only two days before she was in a desperate plight and now it seemed that everything was before her. She hummed gaily to herself as she dressed.
He drove her to a big town more than an hour away, and took her to a department store which made Amy turn up her nose.
"Don't worry," he said. "They've got a good department too."
He wasn't wrong. Amy outfitted herself completely, buying everything she could possibly need. Most of the stuff she arranged to have sent, but she took a few things with her to use until the others arrived. Her gay mood was at a peak now. She left very warm toward Earl and on the way back she cuddled against him in the car. When he drove to his house she made no objection.
Later, she watched him in the mirror as she dressed, recalling the dark flow of lust that had caught them both and swept them along in its turgid stream.
To her surprise she was somewhat uneasy about her first night as a hostess at the tavern. It was one thing to be with a man like Earl, who had made things easier for her by handing her a dominant position, but it was something else to be smooth and cool and teasing in a crowd of drunks and half-drunks with only sex on their minds. Still, it was a hundred dollars and a way of keeping her independence. She would not liked having had to live with Earl. In this manner she could, up to a point, control the affair.
Earl told her that it was his idea that she should concentrate on steering the soldiers into the gambling room.
"I make more there than upstairs," he said. "I thought you had nothing to do with upstairs," she reminded him. He flushed.
"It's my place," he said, "and if they're going to spend money there, I got to get it.
"You leave them anything to get back to camp with?"
He snorted.
"If I did, they'd only get rolled by their buddies. Or lose it in a crap game. They got no use for money except for liquor and dames. I give them the liquor and the dames, they give me the dough. A fair shake."
She laughed.
"A shake anyway."
She was finished dressing and she surveyed herself in the mirror. It was one of several gowns she had bought for her role as hostess, black and strapless, curving snugly about her bosom. When she walked she could see where it hung for a moment on each thing and then slipped back with a soft whisper that only she could hear. She wore her hair up as she had the night before and around her neck was a three-strand cultured pearl choker. She felt she had an elegance that might seem out of place in Earl's Tavern, but it was part of the impression she wanted to create, so that she would not be too encumbered by the GIs.
"Is that what you like about me?" she teased. "That's an extra," he laughed.
When she came into the place, Earl introduced her to the other girls and the bouncers.
"If there's any trouble, just get out of the way," he told her, "and let these guys handle it."
When she came out she felt a contempt for the soldiers as she saw their eyes fall on her. They flocked around her, wanting to hold her and buy her drinks, but she slipped from one to the other, letting them buy her drinks at each stop, but not bothering to drink them. She managed to coax several into the game room and as soon as she saw they were hooked at the table she would leave them and come back for another sucker.
In each of the soldiers she saw a part of Bull and she felt that she hated them all. They seemed drunk and violent to her, foolish and deserving of neither pity nor friendship. Each time she managed to lead one into the gambling room, she felt that she was revenging herself on Bull. And she went at her work with a savage glee, teasing and gypping the soldiers without mercy, mocking them for wanting her, making them pay heavily just for having the desire. It pleased her that she gave them nothing and because of that they preferred her to the other girls.
At quitting time she seemed as fresh as when she had started. The other girls were wilted and showed their fatigue, but Amy's eyes glittered harshly and her mouth curled with contempt as she saw the soldiers stumble out one by one into the night.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Within a few days Amy was a regular, someone the GIs knew. She grew more hardened and cynical about them and as the days went by a curious thing happened. Instead of the soldiers becoming disgruntled because she teased them constantly and never gave them what they wanted, she became a prize, the center of a peculiar type of contest wherein every soldier felt it his duty to try to win Amy.
Amy, meanwhile, was waiting for the night when Bull would come in. She did not know what she would do when he did, but she was eager for the moment and she did not doubt herself. It might at least save some other girl from a repetition of what had happened to her, besides giving her the pleasure of proving herself superior to Bull. That he had spurned her, tossed her away and preferred one of Earl's cheap chippies, still made her writhe whenever she thought of it.
For six nights she prowled the tavern waiting for him to appear. She was sure he would show up and she wanted to be sure to see him before he saw her. The advantage of surprise she wanted to be hers. How Earl would fit into the picture she did not know and did not care. She could handle Earl easily enough Meanwhile she continued her rounds and she knew that Earl was pleased with the number of soldiers she drew into the gambling room. She could tell herself that his profits from that part of the enterprise were increasing. It puzzled her that he was not closed down by the police ,but he continued to operate unmolested.
She saw Bull come in on her eighth night on the job. She was lounging at the entrance to the gambling room when he pushed his way through the door and went directly to the bar. He was immediately taken in tow by the same two girls who had been with him that first night she had seen him. Amy's eyes narrowed almost to slits and she began to breathe fast. Control yourself, she warned herself. She waited until she had her anger under wraps before she sauntered over to him. Just at that moment she caught sight of Earl. He was watching her from a corner and she knew suddenly what she was going to do.
The mirror behind the bar told her how she looked, the bare flesh of her shoulders creamy and rich against the jet black of the gown, her body thrusting hard and always moving under the cloth with a movement all its own, tantalizing and seductive, promising a sweetness rare indeed to whomever could take it.
When he saw her in the mirror he did not know that she knew. He did not know that she saw his sudden stare and the way his arms dropped from the two girls and the way his mouth fell open in a ludicrous gape. All he knew was that he had seen Amy and he guessed at once that this was the Amy all the men had been talking about. It had never occurred to him that it could have been the same Amy he had tossed aside so casually. She was near him now, but a few steps away, and he waited for her to reach him.
Instead she stopped and spoke to a soldier. Bull pivoted around, his eyes on her, while Amy caught a quick look at him in the mirror. Before he could do anything she was moving again, back toward the gambling room with a soldier in tow, knowing his eyes were on the soft lurch of her hips.
He was watching for her when she returned, standing with his back to the bar, scarcely paying any attention to the girls at his side. Amy's mouth curved with pleasure when she saw him and she moved toward him with a slow sauntering gait that drew stares from all around the room. It irked her, however, that he would not come out from his post at the bar, but waited for her to come to him.
She made no move to indicate that she had seen him when she came abreast of him. He reached out his big hand and caught her by the wrist spun her toward him.
"Hello, Amy," he said.
She froze where she was and let her eyes run coldly up and down his big body.
"You buying a drink Mister?" she said coolly.
His mouth fell open and he pushed away from the bar with an angry gesture.
"Sayyy, what are you trying to pull?" he muttered.
"Are you buying a drink, Mister?" she repeated.
Her eyes were on him and her mouth curled with scorn. She could see the others watching Bull and she heard the snickers start behind her.
"You're Amy," he said stupidly.
A roar of laughter greeted his remark.
She turned and sauntered away, leaving him gawking after her. The jeers from his buddies did not escape her ears and she felt she was on her way. Her eyes sought out Earl and found him where he had been before. This time she went to him and sat down. His eyes had a question in them. "That big baboon try to get tough?" he asked. She shrugged her shoulders.
"He thinks he's Romeo," she said. "Maybe he is, but my name's Amy." Earl grinned.
"Well, don't take nothing from these bums," he said. "You don't have to."
The next time she passed Bull he was quieter, but more determined. He planted himself in front of her and barred her way. She stopped, waiting.
"Okay, so you're sore," he said quietly. "Can't we forget it and let it go by? You got to admit you ain't the same Amy."
"I'm the same Amy," she said softly. "Only you weren't smart enough to see it then, Bull."
He thought he was making progress and he smiled for the first time since he had spoken to her.
"Maybe you're right," he conceded magnanimously. "But a mistake's just a mistake. What do you say I make it up to you?"
Her eyebrows went up at that and she shrugged her shoulders.
"I've got no hard feelings, Bull," she said. "Lemme buy you a drink."
"Sure, buy me a drink."
The bartender poured her a drink. When he had taken the money from Bull she picked up the glass and deliberately poured it on the floor.
"Thanks for the drink, Bull," she said with a cool smile.
He glared at her.
"Okay, so now you're even."
She laughed throatily.
"I told you I've got no hard feelings, Bull. I just don't drink on the job. You wanted to buy me a drink, so I let you. I don't have to drink it, just because you buy it."
He backed down at once. His eyes were red from drink and Amy saw them lick hungrily over her. There was no weakness in her knees and no sudden pounding of her blood.
"You look damned beautiful, baby," he said thickly.
She indicated the gambling room with her head.
"You want to go inside for a while? I feel like playing."
He didn't, but he came along anyway, trailing along behind her like a puppy. Once through the doorway she turned to him and smiled up at him.
"Buy me some chips," she coaxed. "I feel lucky."
When he stood at the cashier's desk she said over his shoulder:
"Fifty dollars' worth, Steve."
She guessed that he wouldn't have much more than on him. He took the chips and handed them to her.
"I hope it wasn't too much," she said slyly. "I got some left," he said.
By his manner she knew it wasn't much. She led him to the dice table and blew the fifty dollars inside of ten minutes and then turned to him, smiling, and saying:
"I still feel lucky. Can you get some more?"
There was a suspicious glint in his eye and Amy guessed that he was catching on.
"You're trying to clip me," he accused.
"Cheapskate," she snapped and strolled away.
He followed her angrily but she swept out into the bar before he could catch up with her. He caught her arm and pulled her around to him. Amy swung up her other arm and slapped him across the face.
"Take your hands off me, you drunk," she shrilled.
She slapped him again before he could recover from his surprise, enjoying the sensation of hitting him, wanting to repeat it as often as she could. He let out a roar and caught her wrist in his big hand as she swung it up again. Amy saw his teeth bared in a grimace of anger and then she saw it disappear into a blotch of red as a fist hammered past her head and into his face. Bull let go and staggered back as Earl shot past Amy punching out with both hands quickly. His fists cracked into Bull's face in a rapid series of punches before Bull could get himself set to fight back.
Smiling to herself Amy ducked away and found herself a sheltered corner from which she could watch the proceedings. Bull started to fight back, but by that time several bouncers had arrived to reinforce Earl and one of them stepped behind Bull and hit him a terrific punch on the side of the jaw. As Bull staggered, hurt, the others poured blows on him and he sank down to the floor. Amy saw the soldiers start out from the bar and she knew it was going to be more than she had anticipated, but she was too pleased with her revenge to warn Earl. When Bull was down she saw the bouncers thud their shoes into his prostrate body and one of them kicked him in the head.
Then a soldier hit a bouncer and a bouncer hit another soldier and a chair went flying through the air and then everybody was fighting everybody else. Something hit the mirror and it shattered with a loud crash and Amy saw a bartender hit someone on the head with a short club. She cowered where she was and suddenly Earl was by her side and pulling her into a private office. As he was shutting the door she got a glimpse of one of the girls, her dress half torn from her body, trying to get away from a man who was trying to knock her down.
In less than three minutes the MPs arrived. Amy heard their whistles shrill and suddenly the noise subsided. When she stepped out with Earl the place was a shambles and there were State Troopers helping the MPs restore order. Amy searched for Bull and her eyes picked him out, lying bloody and unconscious.
An MP stepped forward and said loudly: "Who's the owner here?" Earl stepped out. "I am, Lieutenant."
"I'm Lt. Erskine, Military Police," the soldier said. "What happened?"
Amy stepped out before Earl could answer.
"I can answer that, Lieutenant," she said.
He stared at her and she smiled at him. I
"You seem to be the only one who wasn't touched," he said.
She smiled again.
"That's very sweet of you," she said softly.
The lieutenant seemed ill at ease suddenly. Amy saw a very young man, not much older than she, standing before her. He was tall, almost as tall as Bull, but not so big and burly, more on the slim side. He had soft brown eyes and a nice upturned nose, a firm chin and a ready, though shy, smile. A very handsome boy, she thought.
"That man started it," she said, pointing down at Bull.
Lt. Erskine looked at Bull and then back at Amy.
"Suppose you tell me about it," he said.
"He tried to drag me," she said. "I pulled away from him and he tried again. Somebody, I didn't notice who, it happened so fast, tried to help me and that man started a fight. Then everybody started to fight and I ran into the office with Mr. Rommel."
"Do you work here, Miss?"
She nodded.
"Nice place," he said dryly. "Especially for a helpless girl like you, Miss." Her eyes glinted angrily.
"I didn't know officers of the U.S. were expected to insult women the first time they met them," she snapped.
Lt. Erskine flushed hotly.
"I beg your pardon, Miss," he said quickly. "I'm sure I was mistaken." She smiled.
"That's nice of you, Lieutenant." He turned to the MPs.
"Place that sergeant under arrest and return him to the base," he said, pointing to Bull. "Take the names of all the men here."
He turned back to Amy.
"I'll need your name and address, Miss. We might have to call on you to testify."
She gave it to him and then watched him clear the place out quickly. When he was leaving he turned around to search for her with his eyes and she smiled to herself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The first effect of the brawl was that Earl's Tavern was closed down. Earl came to Amy with the news, angry with the State Police who had apparently stepped in over the heads of Earl's pals in the Sheriff's office. He was inclined to blame Amy for the whole thing.
"Why'd you have to fool around with that big baboon?" he demanded. "I saw he was trouble right away."
He had no idea that Amy knew Bull, of course, but he felt there was something fishy about the whole thing.
"You and your hero act," she sneered. "You had to come running and start a fight. If I smack a soldier, nothing's going to happen. If you hit one, every GI in the place will jump in to help him. They won't stand for a civilian beating up a soldier, especially those bouncers of yours with their blackjacks."
"Well, what's the use beefing about it? I'm out of business and I got to pull plenty of wires till I open up again. And just when everything was going nice and smooth too."
"You'd better get it open fast," she said coldly. "I can't hang around here forever."
He looked sharply at her.
"You would pull out when it got rough, wouldn't you?"
"I won't hang around forever," she repeated, "waiting for a handout from you or anyone else."
"Well, I'll be open soon enough. Two weeks at the outside. Got to let things quiet down. Trouble is, it's not only you I've got to take care of. I can let the girls take care of themselves, but I got a couple of boys I can't afford to lose. I got to pay them too."
Two days after the brawl Lt. Erskine came calling at Mrs. Cartison's. Amy had been out for a stroll in the morning and gone back to her room for a nap when Mrs. Cartison came bustling upstairs, obviously impressed, to announced that "there's an officer" to see her. Amy assumed it was a policeman. So she hurriedly went downstairs, and to her surprise saw that it was the handsome lieutenant of MPs. Amy's hair was down now, as she had worn it on her arrival in Millersville, curling fluffily behind her neck. She was wearing a bright yellow cashmere sweater and a snug green skirt, all of which gave the lieutenant quite a different picture of the girl he had come to see from the one the night of the brawl. Amy halted where she was on the staircase and gave him a big smile.
"Why, Lieutenant, I didn't know it was you," she said. "Please come up."
She turned and started back up the stairs, leaving him no alternative but to follow. When he entered her room he stood ill at ease, fidgeting and uncomfortable. In this setting Amy hardly looked like a wicked tavern hostess enticing men into trouble, but rather like a simple country girl, unusually pretty and unsophisticated.
"This will just take a minute, Miss Lovett," he said uneasily.
Amy smiled.
"There's no hurry. Why don't you sit down for a few minutes? I'm sure you're not that anxious to rush back to duty."
The lieutenant smiled shyly and sat down on a straight chair, sitting very stiffly. Amy smiled at his awkwardness.
"Here," she said, "try this rocking chair. It's just the thing for someone who has to stand at attention all the time."
Obediently he moved to the chair she indicated.
"And call me Amy," she added.
"Well, Miss Amy," he began.
"Amy," she interrupted slyly.
"Well, Amy, we need your testimony for the court martial of the soldier who started the brawl," he said.
"Oh, I thought that was all settled." Amy was disappointed.
"Well, all we need is an identification and a statement, that's all."
The words court martial suddenly frightened Amy with a vision of Bull standing before a firing squad blindfolded.
"I don't want to make any trouble for anyone," she said hastily. "What's going to happen to him?"
Lt. Erskine felt more at ease now that the talk was about things he knew.
"Oh, probably a term in the guardhouse, three or four weeks, and deprival of privileges for a couple of months. They might even push him down a grade or two."
"Oh," Amy breathed w ith relief. "When you said court martial I had no idea of what would happen."
"We don't shoot men for liking pretty girls," Lt. Erskine said.
Amy smiled widely.
"Do you think I'm pretty, Lt. Erskine?"
"Call me Clem," he said, suddenly revealing his ability to command. "Very pretty. Beautiful, in fact."
"Clem," Amy said, trying it out. "Clem. That's a nice name."
"I sort of go for Amy too," he said.
They both looked at each other and laughed heartily. For a moment Amy forgot the armor of cynicism and calculation she had adopted and reverted to the girl she had been before her arrival in Millersville. What remained, however, was the new assurance and poise which added immeasurable charm to her simplicity.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked. "After all, the poor fellow did get beat up badly."
"Nothing too serious," he assured her. "Just bruises and cuts. No broken bones. For a fellow like him, it's nothing. But we can't have our men going around brawling and molesting women. We have to make an example of him. I think an identification and a signed deposition about what happened will be enough. It's just routine."
"Do you want it now?"
"I need it done in the presence of several officers. Could you drive back to camp with me?"
"In a jeep?" she laughed.
He nodded.
"I'm on duty now," he explained.
She slipped on a jacket and told him she was ready. The jeep ride she found fun, but Clem slipped into silence on the drive back to camp and Amy was disappointed. Several times she tried to start the talk going again, but somehow the comradely feeling that had so suddenly sprung up between them had just as quickly slipped away. It was a letdown she didn't like.
At the camp she remembered that the sergeant at the reception building would probably remember her and she balked at going inside. It turned out it wasn't necessary. But she did have to see Bull and identify him and she was afraid that Bull might say something. Clem took two other officers with him and they went to the base hospital.
Bull saw her when she came in with the officers. He watched her in silence, his eyes steady on her. Amy felt no pity for him and she was glad to see his battered face.
"That's the man," she said triumphantly, and they all went away.
She dictated her version of the affair to an enlisted man who took it in shorthand and then she waited for him to type up several copies, which she signed.
"That's all," Clem said. "Thanks. I'll have you driven back to town by one of the men."
"Oh no you won't," Amy said, irked. "You drove me here and you drive me back. Otherwise I won't
"Don't drive her, Clem," said one of the other officers. "I'd rather have her stay. She's too good for civilians."
Clem got very flustered and Amy was a little sorry she had done it, but not sorry enough to call it off.
"I'm on duty," he explained, flushing.
It was an awkward moment for them both.
"I'm sure it's part of your duty to see that I'm returned home properly," she said teasingly.
He looked hesitant and again she realized how close to her own age he was. He was the kind of a boy she would have liked to know back in the city before she had met up with Bull.
"I suppose it's all right," he said at last.
When she was in the jeep she apologized to him.
"I didn't mean to put you on the spot," she said.
"I really wanted to take you back, Amy." His manner was suddenly so serious that they both fell silent. Then he said: "I really meant what I said back in your room."
"About what?"
"That you're beautiful."
It was Amy's turn to blush at the unexpected compliment. The conversation had suddenly taken a turn that she had not expected.
"I'm glad you think so," she said at last, not without shyness.
"What are you going to do now" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, they closed down the place and I suppose you're out of a job."
"I don't know," she said. "I really haven't thought about it."
They were back in Millersville and the jeep turned into Hickory Street. Suddenly Amy was afraid that she might not see the lieutenant again. He pulled up before Mrs. Cartison's and when he said nothing she made no move to get out of the jeep, waiting for him. He did not disappoint her.
"I'm off duty night after next," he said finally. "Do you think we might take in a movie or something together?"
"Or something," she said brightly ,cheerful again. "I'll be expecting you around eight."
He perked up at once and Amy was surprised to realize that he hadn't expected her to agree to a date.
"Make it seven-thirty," he said. "No point in wasting half an hour."
"You'll have to buy me dinner then," she warned. "I know just the place." She laughed.
"All you men are alike. You all know 'just the place.'"
"See you at seven-thirty," he waved as he drove off.
It was not until she was back in her room that she remembered about Earl. She wondered what he would think if he knew about her dating Clem, but she shrugged her shoulders and decided that she did not care what he thought. She felt like dating him and she would. It would be a welcome change from the kind of men she was now meeting. Or would it? Maybe she was just kidding herself again, she thought.
That she should use the clothes Earl had bought her to pretty herself up for a date with Clem was a source of amusement to Amy. The clothes had arrived all at once and Mrs. Cartison had stood by open-mouthed while the drivers brought the boxes up to her room. She selected a simple suit for her date with Clem, but she put her hair up as she had worn it while working. Somehow she felt more able to play the role she had set herself with this hairdo.
Clem was prompt, arriving on the dot of seven-thirty. He was arrayed in a bright and shiny uniform and officer's cap and instead of a jeep he had a car, a maroon sedan that was polished as spic and span as his uniform. Amy was ready and as they left she saw Mrs. Cartison watching them through the curtained window. She found herself measuring how high she came up to on Clem and for a brief moment the emotion she felt was akin to that she had felt the first few times with Bull. The comparison, however, was odious to her.
It proved almost impossible to get a conversation going with Clem as they drove out of town. He had not struck her as taciturn, but the few attempts Amy made to talk ended dismally and as darkness came on they drove in silence. Amy's good spirits fell away and she thought she had made a mistake with this soldier. He was like all the rest, only duller.
The place proved a surprise, however, and her spirits perked up. Clem too, once out of the car and in public, seemed to revive and come out of the moodiness that had gripped him.
"Like it?" he asked.
She nodded. It was a small place furnished on the style of an old inn with heavy oak beams across the dining area and antlers for coat hooks. The tables were covered with red-checked cloths and off beyond the unfinished wood partition there was a bar. Soft dance music was playing and the place was well-filled with prosperous looking people. Several couples were dancing. Clem was the only soldier there. She looked up at him with a pleased smile.
"This is nice. It doesn't look like a soldiers' hangout."
"Don't you like soldiers?" Her smile to him was pure coquetry. "No," she said as the waiter guided them to a table. "No, not usually." He bit.
"And me? Am I usual?"
"We'll see," she challenged him.
Dancing with him was a new kind of experience for Amy. She forgot she was dancing, so perfeclty did their bodies blend in the measured cadences of the steps, knowing only the mood of the music that was reaching through to her, sweeping her up in it and wrapping her in a magic that was impenetrable. Not that she was not aware of Clem and of his youthful body close to hers, because she was. It was an awareness that seemed not to come from her mind, but one that had a logic and movement all its own seemingly apart from her control.
The dancing, the music, the small talk, the subdued atmosphere, the dim lighting and the subtle effect of a world different from that she had known all combined to work this magic for Amy, to brush aside the front of cynicism and relegate it to the background. All the promise that there had been between herself and Clem since their first meeting that morning, all the easiness and natural attraction served to bring back into being the simple girl who had dreamed of an idyllic white cottage on a hillside a few short weeks before.
They talked of the things they liked and the things they did not like.
"Do you like dancing?"
A simple question that meant much more than just that.
"It depends," she answered. "It depends on who I'm dancing with. He could be the best dancer in the world, but if I don't like him I won't like dancing with him."
He knew what she meant, of course, and it emboldened him and freed him from much restraint when she, in turn, asked:
"What do you like in a girl?"
"I like her to be pretty," he said, "though she doesn't have to be. And I'd like her to like the things I like and to be a good pal to me, someone I can share things with."
In these banalities they did not listen to the words or .try to analyze meaning, but let the emotions behind the words reach out to one another, touch them, and bring them closer. They served not to identify attitudes towards situations and objects and phenomena, but to reduce barriers between two almost-strangers, to bridge the gulf of time which both of them knew without thought was short for them. It was in the nature of a short-cut taken by two people, strangers among strangers, who had to learn quickly to know each other if they were to know each other at all.
All thoughts of a movie or any other form of artificial entertainment vanished from their minds, so engrossed were they in this process of getting to know each other. When they finally left the restaurant still wrapped in that warm glow of self-made magic no question as to what to do rose in either of them. They got into the car and drove off into the night, sitting close to each other.
And when Clem stopped the car, not at some "romantic" spot, but simply a suitable place to pull off the road, a place where there were trees and deep dark shadows and moonlight sifted in faint silver rays through heavily leafed boughs, it was only natural that they should turn to each other and embrace. And when they kissed, it was not a kiss of love nor of passion. Rather was it more in the nature of continuing the process of learning about each other.
"It's peaceful here," Amy said after several minutes.
What she meant, and he understood, was that she felt herself at peace with him after the kiss. Though her words in fact described what was outside her, was more truly describing what was inside her. He felt it too and he nodded slowly in agreement. Then, he reached out his arm, put it around her shoulder, and pulled her gently toward himself. She leaned over without resistance and her head was on his shoulder, the soft hair, faintly luminous in the faint moonlight that trickled into the car resting caressingly against his cheek.
"I never met a girl like you before, Amy," he whispered.
"How do you mean, like me?"
"Beautiful," he murmured.
"That's all?" She was disappointed, vaguely dissatisfied with that insufficiency.
"Beautiful," he repeated softly, "but still a really simple girl at heart. We like the same things."
She laughed softly, but the mood which had threatened to be dispelled, returned.
"Is that why?" she teased. "Because I like the same things you do?"
"Don't laugh, Amy," he said. When his face turned toward her Amy knew he was going to kiss her again and she wanted him to do it. She knew it would not be a kiss like the first one and she lifted her face slightly toward his. And when his lips moved toward her she closed her eyes at the moment when she could feel his breath on her lips but had not yet touched him.
The lurking passion broke out with this kiss. Their mouths met, warm and wet this time, melting into each other softly, sending gusts of desire whipping through both of them. They clung to each other for a long moment. Amy felt the wonderful pulse of love beating, seeking her soft warm flesh.
She broke away with a short and angry laugh, the mood shattered suddenly.
"Slow down, soldier boy," she said, hard again and not clearly understanding why herself.
Her abrupt action threw him into confusion, but he did not resort to words, even if he could have found them to express the anger and hurt and frustration that had so suddenly overwhelmed him. He stared at her, bewildered by her mercurial change in mood, but inclined to blame himself for what had happened.
"I'm no penny candy," she said without anger.
"You seemed to like it."
She did not miss the hidden accusation.
"The kiss was fine," she said coolly, as if she were estimating it for a sale. "But the other stuff ... I guess you're just like all the rest of the soldiers."
"I'm sorry if I offended you, Amy, but I couldn't control myself. I'm in love."
She laughed softly but with a sardonic edge that she knew would hurt.
"It's always love with you soldiers. Whatever it is, it's love. An easy word, easy to spell and easy to say." She made a harsh and bitter sound in her throat. "You're all alike."
He made no further attempt to defend himself, realizing the futility of it up against her suddenly bitter mood. He could not know that the memory of Bull and of the sex-minded GIs of the tavern had obscured for the moment what she knew of him and made him seem like one of a pack. It might have been the uniform as much as anything else, but it was a door shut in his face and he knew enough not to try to batter it down.
"Let's go home," she said tonelessly.
On the way back to Mrs. Cartison's, they drove in silence. Amy realized she did not like herself for what she had said. They were sitting apart, Clem concentrating grimly on driving while Amy was reliving the episode, searching it through to find answers to the many questions that now occurred to her. What was foremost in her mind was Clem's remark that she "seemed to like it."
She had. Yet she had pulled out of his arms when he had acted in a way to which she could not now say she was unaccustomed. She had taken it from Bull and she had taken it from Earl, yet now she had balked at Clem. It was a development she could not fathom, though she knew now she was sorry she had done what she had done to Clem. It was, after all, a punishment he did not deserve. And, of course, she had been as much responsible for what happened as he had.
When he had kissed her she had enjoyed being in his arms, but she had enjoyed it in part because she felt superior to his way of love-making. In a sense it had been an excursion into her past, a renewal of a more juvenile form of sexual play, an indulgence in necking which she thought she had outgrown. But when Clem had sought, naturally enough, to move beyond necking she had cut him off coldly. It was as if she set up one standard for him and another for the rest. There was no sense in it except her dislike of soldiers, which had begun with Bull and had been reinforced by her observation of them at the tavern. In taking the job at Earl's there had been an element of revenge, of teasing the soldiers with what they wanted from her but not giving it to them. Clem, it appeared, was no exception.
She looked over at him and saw the outline of his face, tight and grim. Amy felt sorry and wanted to reach out and stroke his cheek gently. But she did not. The car turned and the headlights cut a swath down Hickory Street. They were in front of Mrs. Cartison's. Quickly she opened the door and got out.
"Good night," Clem said coldly.
She leaned in the window of the car.
"I really want to see you again, Clem," she said softly. "Please call me again."
Then she pulled her head out and ran quickly into the house. He watched her until she vanished inside the door. Amy heard the car pull away and as she went into her room she was suddenly seized with a sense of loneliness that was overwhelming. She could not shake it off nor could she manage to kid herself out of her mood as she had so often done in recent weeks. The evening had not gone quite according to plan, but where she had lost control of it she could not see.
CHAPTER NINE
Late the next morning she was awakened by the sound of a car pulling up in front of the house. She did not bother to see who it was and let herself come to full wakefulness slowly, savoring the last moments of sleep until she heard Mrs. Cartison climbing the stairs with heavy steps. Then she knew it was for her and she came awake quickly, wondering if it was Clem.
She knew it was not he when she saw the expression on Mrs. Cartison's face and she guessed it was Earl.
"There's a man to see you," Mrs. Cartison said.
"Man" was an expression of disapproval in Mrs. Cartison's language and Amy knew it was Earl.
"Let him wait," she said. "Tell him I'll be down soon."
Mrs. Cartison smiled a smile of pleased malice, nodded briskly and went out. At the door she halted and turned back.
"There's no rush," she said quietly. "I'm in no hurry."
Amy giggled and for the first time since her arrival in Millersville she thought she detected a hint of humor in Mrs. Cartison's cold eyes. Amy guessed that she must have liked the idea of Earl cooling his heels under her watchful eye. She took her time getting washed and dressed and it was more than half an hour before she got downstairs. Earl looked angry.
Amy faced him with a sneer. She wasn't having any of that this morning.
"What took you so long?" he demanded.
Her eyes raked him coldly.
"Maybe you better go outside and come in again," she snapped. "Try to see if you left your manners out on the porch."
Earl's mouth turned hard, but he looked around uncertainly to see if Mrs. Cartison was there. She was, though he couldn't tell if she had heard anything. "I want to talk to you," he said. She smiled coolly.
"Not before breakfast," she said with an infuriating smile. "I don't know if Mrs. Cartison will invite you to coffee."
Mrs. Cartison took the hint.
"I can't be serving anyone but my boarders," she said in her cold voice.
Amy enjoyed Earl's scowl, but as she went in she told him he could wait for her up in her room. Without saying anything he went up. Amy took her time with breakfast and she was amused by Mrs. Cartison's enjoyment of her cavalier treatment of Earl.
"He was around here last night looking for you," Mrs. Cartison confided in her. "What time?"
"About half an hour after you left with that officer."
Amy didn't want to give Mrs. Cartison the satisfaction of asking whether Earl knew if she had gone out with Clem, but she would have liked to know. She guessed that he did know and she felt a little nervous that he should know. Mrs. Cartison was watching her with a calculating look on her face and Amy tried carefully not to show her feelings about the matter. She knew that her landlady would love to know just what her relations were with Earl and Amy did not quite know what might happen if she should know. Since Mrs. Cartison volunteered no information, she was still not sure when she went up to her room to see Earl.
He was angry and he lost no time in showing it to her.
"What's the idea of the grandstand play in front of that dame?" he demanded.
She did not answer him and waited for him to come to the point.
"She was lapping it up," he continued, fuming. He glared at her as she shrugged her shoulders indifferently. Amy caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and was pleased that she did not show her feelings.
"I heard you had a date last night," Earl said, coming to a stop directly in front of her.
She looked up into his face and smiled placatingly.
"I had dinner," she said.
"I heard it was a soldier," he accused.
"The lieutenant," she explained. "The one who was in charge of the Military Police when they broke up the fight."
"He didn't waste any time getting around here."
She wondered if he was really jealous or just asserting his prior rights.
"He came yesterday morning," she continued, a little annoyed with herself for explaining so timidly. "He wanted a statement on that soldier who started the battle. I had to go out to camp with him and when he came back he asked me for a date for dinner. That's all."
He looked at her suspiciously. "I know those GIs," he said insultingly. "I don't have to take that from you," she said angrily.
He tried to stare her down, but Amy wasn't letting any of that happen now. She was glad to be angry, wanting to forget the past few moments when she had tried to placate him.
"Don't think you can play around," he said.
She got up and stood directly in front of him. Her blue eyes glittered hotly and her breath came fast, forcing her breasts hard against her flimsy dress.
"I don't want to hear any more about it," she hissed.
"Don't give me any of that," he said sharply. "Don't think you can double-cross me. I can't stand a two-timing dame. I got you everything and I'm playing square with you. I'll bet you were wearing one of the dresses I bought you when you went out with this punk of a lobie."
"You want it back?"
She walked to the closet, yanked the suit off the hanger and threw it at him. It landed across his chest and crumpled down to the floor. Earl didn't make a move, letting it fall.
"I know you and your dinner dates," he said sneeringly.
Amy went white.
"You're cheap," she said almost in a whisper. "I didn't think anyone could be so cheap. I won't take that kind of talk from you and you can get out right now."
That brough him up suddenly and Amy could see him hesitate. His quick change in attitude, however, far from mollifying her, roused her anger to a new pitch.
"Cheap," she shrilled. "That's all you are but a cheap small-town angle-worker. Do you think I'm one of those honkytonk girls you have out at your place? I don't go up to back rooms with soldiers or with anybody else. Take your damned stuff and get yourself out of here with it."
She flung open the closet door, stripped the clothes from the hangers and threw them at him. When she had cleaned out the closet she started with the shoes, throwing them at him. One hit him in the chest and fell to the floor amid the pile of clothes. He was dumbfounded by her fury and his bluster collapsed in the face of it. But Amy, wrapped in her wild anger, saw nothing of this. Her body was taut with fury and her eyes shone; her skin was flushed and her breasts were heaving rapidly.
"Cut it out," Earl said. "I guess I made a mistake."
"Made a mistake," she went at him. "You're right you made a mistake. We're through. Finished. Right now. I don't want to listen to you and I don't want to see you again. Get out, get out, get out!"
He tried to take her by the shoulders and calm her down, but she flung off his grip and pushed him away. Then she slapped his face and kicked at him.
"Get out, get out!" she hissed.
Her very anger roused desire in him. Amy was never more beautiful to him than at this moment. He caught her and held her tightly; then he yanked her toward him and tried to kiss her. She twisted her head wildly to evade him and struggled in his grip. They fought silently for a while until she managed to work herself into position so that she could kick him. She caught him sharply on the shin, causing him to let go with a curse. He hopped up and down on one leg.
It was suddenly very funny and the anger drained out of Amy. Watching him hopping and cursing she started to laugh, softly first, and then uncontrollably so that tears rolled out of her eyes. Then he started to laugh also.
"Don't ever do that again," she warned him when they had subsided.
"I got sore."
She was irritated anew by his trying to pass it off as something unimportant.
"You heard me," she said. "Don't ever do that again."
"Okay." He gave in grudgingly. "I apologize."
"You were jealous," she said. "Just like a kid." He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah," he said. "I guess I was."
"You were a damned fool, you know."
"You can't blame me for it," he said. "You ought to know better," she said. "After all, what more could I do to prove it to you?"
His eyes licked hungrily over her at that and he took a step toward her. She shook her head warningly but she pushed him off gently this time. She could not stand the idea of kissing him now, let alone making love.
"Not, not here and not now," she said flatly.
"I'm crazy about you, honey," he breathed huskily.
"I know," she said, "but not here, Earl."
He stopped and she felt relieved that she would not have to struggle again. He was all right, she thought, but she knew now that whatever she felt with him when she was in his arms was not love. It was something that was akin to love, but it was not love. It was the same as she had felt with Bull, she realized, and that had not been love either.
"Help me pick this stuff up," she ordered him.
He stared at her for a moment and then grinned amiably and went to work.
"You sure looked funny, throwing clothes and shoes and everything," he said.
"Not as funny as you looked hopping on one leg and cursing like an old-time sailor."
"You're quite a scrapper. I ought to put you in the ring."
"I'll lick my weight in men," she said. "How about women?"
"They're tougher. Look at my landlady."
"She don't like me."
"She has to like you too? I'm not enough? Go on after her and get her, Earl. I'll bet she says yes."
"That's a hot one," he laughed. "Can you just picture it!"
"You're too hungry, Earl. You've got me and you want her. I think I'll tell her and maybe she'll quit her snooping."
"Yeah," he said, "I guess she was just jealous and trying to steam me up."
"I wonder if she was listening all through it," Amy said.
He looked at her and they both started to laugh. He walked to the door and yanked it open suddenly, but the corridor was empty.
"She missed an earful," he said.
"Both ears."
"I don't want to fight with you no more, Amy. I'm too crazy about you."
"And I'm too tough."
They had the stuff all picked up by now and put away.
"Let's get out of here," he said. "You know, I bought all that stuff, but I forgot one thing."
"What?"
"A bathing suit."
He rolled his eyes and made a low wolf whistle. "This I got to see. How I forgot it, I'll never know."
"It's pretty hot already and I guess there's plenty of swimming around here."
"Let's get one," he said.
"It's too far to drive today, Earl."
"We don't have to go all the way there for a suit."
All right. Let's go."
Amy was relieved that she did not see Mrs. Cartison on her way out because she was sure she must have heard something of what went on between her and Earl.
"When are you opening up again, Earl?"
"It ain't so easy," he complained, a whining note coming into his voice. "The damned Army is making trouble and so are the State cops. But my connection told me it will go through by next week. By the way, baby, you did all right in putting the arm on that bastard that started the rumpus. That's what's keeping me in the clear. The Sheriff is on my side, so I guess it'll be all right."
"I'm glad, Earl."
Things seemed to have settled down between them, but she was not quite satisfied with it. She did not like the idea of accounting her actions to Earl. Lurking in back of her mind, of course, was her desire to be free to pursue whatever course she chose with Clem, although the idea of betraying Earl was not in her mind.
"What about the lieutenant, Earl?" she said softly. "He's going to ask me for a date again."
She was prepared to have a showdown on it, right here in the car, come what may. She felt certain that she would win, but she did not shrink from the possibility of losing. Of one thing she was certain: if Clem asked for a date she would agree and she would not be put in the position of having to do it furtively because of Earl.
"I been thinking about that, baby." He paused reflectively. "I was a sap just before and I've been telling myself plenty. You were doing me a favor and I was too dumb to know it. You're my luck, Amy, my real luck. Sure, I got closed down, but that's nothing. I took in plenty that week you were on the floor, real dough. But I'm always taking a chance of getting closed down. The Army, you know. They throw a lot of weight around when they want to.
"So here I am with a connection right in the Army thrown right at me and I don't see it." He took his hand off the wheel and slapped himself on the forehead. "The looie! That kid of looie. He runs the Army cops on that road. I got him under control, I got the Army sewed up and I got a clear field.
She stared at him, not understanding.
"You can't bribe him," she said slowly.
"Bribe!" He laughed harshly. "Who's talking about money? Why spend money when it comes for nothing? We got what he wants more than dough. Money don't mean nothing to a kid like that. It's just something to throw away."
"I still don't get it."
"For a smart girl, sometimes you're slow." He grinned at her." You. That's what he wants, you!"
"So?"
"So, we give him what he wants."
She went white with anger. He saw her expression and hastened to explain.
"No," he said, "not what you think. What do you think I am?"
"What do you mean?" she asked tensely.
"Play the sucker along," he said shortly. "He wants you, okay he gets on the string with all the other suckers. Only he don't know he's on a string. He thinks he's got the inside track. He asks for a date, you give it to him. He wants to blow his dough on you, you let him. He'll fall for you, baby, real hard. Then we're on easy street. Once he falls for you, he won't do nothing to spoil your setup. And if he's thinking about it, you can always talk him out of it, Simple, ain't it?"
She thought the idea was typical of Earl, treacherous, without pity or morality or pride. Yet it suited what she had in mind for herself. And, of course, the by-product of steady work and steady money was not unpleasant. It would be a dirty trick on Clem, but he probably would not think of it as such. He would have no way of knowing her intentions.
"Maybe," she said.
She wanted Earl to urge her on and he did.
"What do you mean maybe? It's a sure thing. What's the matter, Amy, you feeling sorry for the punk?"
"It does seem like a dirty deal," she said. "What he don't know won't hurt him. He'll be bragging to his pals how he's top dog with you. You'd be doing him a favor, make him a big man in the Army. You might even get him to be a captain." He laughed at his own joke.
"All right," she said hesitantly. "I'll give it a try and see how it shapes up. But if I don't like it I won't go through with it, Earl. I don't like the sound of it, I don't mind telling you."
"Don't be a kid," he said. "You're getting plenty out of it. Play ball with me on this, Amy, and everything will be real nice and cozy."
"Yes," she said slowly. "Real nice and cozy." A slow smile spread on her face and her eyes turned dreamy. "Real nice and cozy."
CHAPTER TEN
Amy thought she had acted with real cleverness with Earl and that she had managed the matter of Clem very well, but when Clem failed to call within three days she wondered whether it was all for nothing. For two days she hadn't even thought about it. By the third day, however, she noticed it and waited to see if he would call. By evening of the third day it really bothered her and there was a moment when she went so far as to wonder if she should take the initiative herself. She drew back from this thought as quickly as it came to her, recalling with dread the result she had obtained with Bull.
Yet there was no denying the fact that she might have already spoiled things by her behavior the last time. True, she had apologized after a fashion, but her apology she knew was something that merely had made her feel better. It was doubtful whether it had the same effect on Clem.
Amy tried to laugh at herself. She told herself that she was being silly about him, that he was little more than a boy and that it was just vanity on her part. Her vanity was piqued; but it was not just her vanity that made her want to see him again. In her mind what there was between her and Clem was just beginning and if nothing more should come of it, there would be more lost than her vanity.
What would come after the beginning, however, was something she did not know. That nothing might come after it, however, was an affront to more than her pride. It was an offense against deeper things, against wishes that rose instinctively in her, that beat hard against the armor plate of cynicism she wore. It was this edge of the sword that really cut, though it was the other edge that she admitted to herself.
In a sense it was the reassertion of the girl that she had been that made Clem seem attractive to her.
There were moments when Amy did not like her present self and it was at these moments that the wistful dream of Clem was most appealing to her. At other times it meant less and was in itself an object of ridicule. She was not yet at all hardened to her new way of life and while she carried it well on the surface, she had not made the total adjustment in her personality that it required.
With it all Amy knew that she was really simply doing what Earl wanted her to do. Her own dual feelings on the matter just made her a better instrument for Earl, made it easier for her to go along with his plan. In fact, it occurred to her that had she been a more hard-boiled girl, the whole plan might collapse because she sensed that it was not this aspect of her personality and beauty which attracted Clem. There was no doubt in her mind that he preferred the girl who wore her hair loosely about her shoulders than the one who coiffed it into elaborate whorls on the top of her pretty head. This too was a small affront and part of her desire to see him again was to change this, to force him into line, to compel him to want the tavern girl and accept her as the real Amy. That it might be in the nature of a struggle with herself, Amy did not wish to recognize.
Despite her soul-searching and her self-analysis, no call came from Clem that day or even on the next. When she saw Earl she remarked laughingly that their plan seemed to be failing because the sucker was not rising to the bait.
"I guess I didn't offer him enough bait," she teased.
"He'll be around," Earl assured her. "I know the type. Wait till he sees you in action again. He'll tell you he wants to reform you, but it's all a lot of bull. He wants the same thing all the soldiers want."
"What have you got against soldiers? Without them you'd be broke."
The tavern was scheduled to reopen two days later and the weather had turned real hot. It was mid-June now and the sun overhead had the intensity of August, burning down from a blue and cloudless sky with a brilliance that hurt the eyes. All around Mil-lersville the countryside was brightly green with foliage.
Clem's call came on the fifth day and it was with real relief, mingled with self-mockery, that Amy heard his voice.
"I was beginning to think you were angry with me," she said.
From the way he stammered before replying, Amy guessed that he was blushing and in confusion.
"I couldn't get off," he said lamely.
"Not even for a phone call?" she pressed him.
"Well, I didn't think there was any use in calling, if I had to be on duty."
"And now you don't have to be on duty?" She was taking no chances of his getting away out of shyness.
"No," he replied eagerly. "I've got the whole day off-a weekend, in fact. I thought that I might be able to see you."
"Sure. What do you want to do?"
"I was going to leave that up to you," he said.
She chuckled softly.
"I'm afriad you'll never be a general."
He laughed also.
"My only ambition is to be a civilian," he said.
"How about going swimming?" she suggested. "It's too hot for anything else."
"Great. I know a perfect place. A regular old swimming hole where it won't be crowded."
"I'll pack a lunch."
"Good. I'll pick you up in about an hour."
The idea pleased her. It would give her a chance to wear her new suit and, as usual, Clem had the effect of stirring up the old Amy in a way that pleased her. She went down to Mrs. Cartison prepared for an argument about her right to use the kitchen. To her surprise, Mrs. Cartison offered to prepare a lunch herself.
"Now don't you bother," she told Amy. "I don't like anyone fussing around my kitchen excepting myself. But leave it to Mary Cartison, when it comes to packing a picnic lunch. You going with that soldier fellow.
Amy nodded.
"That's fine. You go on and get dressed and by the time he gets here everything'll be all ready. My late husband Sam, be used to get me. to fix things for a picnic and then sit around and eat and we'd never get out of the house. Nothing a man likes better than a good picnic lunch."
"Thanks," Amy said happily, "thanks awfully. I'll pay for it, of course."
Mrs. Cartison looked up sharply.
"I didn't say nothing about money," she snapped. "Nobody ever said Mary Cartison was slow in asking for money, so if I didn't say anything, don't you go saying it for me. You go on and pretty yourself up for that young fellow."
Amy chose a summery outfit of an off-the-shoulder blouse and a wide flaring skirt with a green flower print and green sandals. It was not without a wry smile that she fluffed out her hair, admiring its golden glints in the sunlight that streamed through the open window. By the time Clem arrived she was ready and the lunch was packed. Clem, to her surprise, was not in uniform. He was wearing a sport shirt and slacks and looked even more youthful than ever. He really was handsome, Amy thought, with his blue eyes and fair hair and rugged features.
Her head came just up to his shoulder, she noticed as they went out to his car. He was smiling pleasantly and she was sure that he had forgotten, or at least put out of his mind, what had happened on their last date. She could not resist the impulse to remind him of it.
"Are you sure you weren't angry with me?" she asked impishly, her eyelids lowered and a smile working the corners of her mouth.
He looked at her with the same disarming frankness that was always so disconcerting. Amy was not used to the lack of artifice in his manner.
"Sure," he said. "I was sore until I woke up the next morning. Then I was sore at myself. How could I blame you for that? But I was too ashamed of myself to call you up right away."
"That's the sweetest thing anyone ever said to me," she said softly. "It makes me feel a little ashamed of myself for treating you like that."
And all at once the shattered mood of the previous night was reestablished. No more words had to be spoken between them. Clem swung the car off the highway onto a dirt road some twenty minutes out of Millersville and the car climbed rapidly up the winding road.
After about ten minutes of driving they emerged suddenly at a spot where the road straightened and lay in deep shade provided by a thick glen of tall oak and pine that reached right to the edge of the road. All was silence here except for the purr of the motor and Clem guided the car into a little siding from which a path could be seen leading through the trees.
"Here we are," Clem said.
He got out and came around the car to open the door for her. When she put her hand in his she looked directly into his eyes and there was a moment when she felt as if she were stepping foolishly into a trap of her own making but which she was powerless to prevent. Her face passed very close to his and Amy could not but recall the tender sweetness of a kiss. But the moment slipped away and as she stepped into the shade of the trees the overwhelming freshness of the smell of pines filled her senses and Amy experienced a sense of expansion and well-being that had never been hers in the city. She felt full of the strength of life and a sense of freedom in her spirit that lifted her mood to gaiety.
Clem, carrying the lunch and a blanket, led the way through the trees. The path wound along inclining downhill slightly and suddenly around a bend a patch of clear bright blue water came into view. It was a breathtakingly beautiful sight; the water motionless and broken by the shadows of treetops along its sides, the sky bright blue above it, the trees green and almost motionless surrounding the pool. It was about forty yards across and twice that in length and at the spot where the path came out of the trees there was a smooth patch of emerald green grass that reached right down to the water's edge.
"Oh, it's lovely," Amy exclaimed.
She stood for a moment, poised on tiptoe, her eyes scanning the sight, her mouth parted and breaking into a wide smile. They were all alone at the pool, a fact which registered itself on Amy without any displeasure. When they stood silent there was no sound save a soft rustling of leaves and the occasional chit-tering of birds. The breeze that sifted through the trees into the clearing and over the mountain pool was very gentle and scarcely rippled the still surface of the water.
"I want to go right in," Amy said happily.
When she took her suit out of the little bag in which she had carried it, she turned to Clem and she felt suddenly very shy. He was watching her and she knew that the same thing was in both their minds.
"I wore my trunks under my pants," he said.
"Go into the trees," she said softly.
He looked at her for a long moment and Amy lowered her eyes, blushing. Then he walked away back up the path they had come. When she had waited for what she thought was long enough for him to be far enough up the path, Amy quickly slipped off her clothes.
She stood nude in the sunlight, her skin very white and smooth, enjoying the feeling of the soft June air on her and then she padded to the water's edge and looked down. Her body shimmered up at her from the pool and she stared at her reflection, pensive and caught by a mood that was new to her. She could not tear herself away from the edge of the pool until she thought of Clem waiting patiently in the woods. Then she quickly slipped on the suit and called to him.
It was a two-piece suit, black and unadorned, with a flimsy strapless bra that scarcely covered her breasts and snug trunks that molded the fine womanly shape of her hips. Her belly was white and smooth against the twin bands of black that set it off, and her thighs tapered softly down from the trunks which fitted tightly. She knew it did not cover much and when Clem returned she knew even more how daring it was by the way he stopped when he saw her, caught his breath and then just stared without speaking. She could read the hunger in his eyes and in the tight way he clamped his mouth shut. She felt wonderfully happy that he should want her so much.
"You didn't peek?" she teased.
That broke her spell and he smiled easily.
"I didn't have to," he replied, nodding toward her.
"Is it that bad?"
"Who said it was bad?" he grinned. "I think it's perfect."
"All right, now let's see what you look like."
He was more muscular and broader in the shoulders and chest than he appeared. There was very little hair on his chest and his hips tapered narrowly and for the first time since she knew him Amy thought of Clem as a big man. She guessed that his arms were very strong and when he moved them she could see the muscles stand out suddenly under the taut skin.
"You look handsome," she said softly.
Then she turned and raced for the water, ran in a few steps and dove under cleanly. It was cold, but not as cold as she had expected it to be and when she came up she swam a few strokes and then turned over on her back. Clem was just coming up from his dive and he swam quickly toward her. As he came up to her she turned and dove away from him, came up behind him and caught him by the shoulders and pushed down hard. He went under and when he came up spluttering she swam away laughing. He came alter her swiftly and she made a pretense of trying to evade him, really wanting him to catch her. He did and while she splashed around pretending to be fearful of a ducking he held her and then let go.
"I can't do it," he said with mock seriousness.
Her eyes glinted dangerously at this show of affection and for response she slid beside him and dragged him under. She swam away quickly, jumped out and ran up on the grass, standing in the sunlight with the water dripping down her flanks and forming a little pool at her feet. He followed her out and when he came up to her he reached out and she fell into his arms naturally. Her mouth opened, eager for his, wanting the fire that she knew would go racing through her blood at his touch. It was all that she expected and she was sorry it was over when he released her. When he made no move to kiss her again or do anything else she knew that what she had done the other time had cut deeper than he would show and that anything further that would happen between them would have to come from her. He would expose himself no further to the pain she could inflict.
She knew that his feeling for her must be very deep and strong if this was how he acted with her. This too moved her in two ways, exciting her with the normal instincts of her sex and burdening her with a sense of treachery that she could not like at this time. At this moment she hated Earl truthfully and intensely, though she knew at the time she was thinking it that this moment of hate would pass and that it would change nothing.
She kicked petulantly at the ground and ,looking up, saw that he was studying her. Irritated by her own dilemma she turned aside and took a few steps away from him, knowing that his eyes were on the soft switching of her hips and the gentle lurching of her breasts. She slipped off her bathing cap, threw it away from her and shook her hair out around her shoulders. He made a harsh noise in his throat and when she turned he was walking to the blanket they had spread, his face angry.
"I'm hungry," she said, eager to take the tension out of the situation. "Are you?"
He nodded bleakly. She came over quickly and, kneeling, she spread out the lunch. She was glad when the sight of the food did the trick and the anger melted out of his face. She had a pretty good idea of what he was going through and she felt sorry for him, but she was in a way just as sorry for herself. The thought that the day might have been a mistake crossed her mind but she pushed it away with impatience, knowing that she had wanted it as much as he and that she would not have had it otherwise.
"Mrs. Cartison made the lunch," she said. "She really surprised me."
"She does look mean," he agreed.
"She is. Mean and greedy. But I think she approves of you for me." He grinned boyisly at her.
"I approve also," he said. "What about you?" She could not maintain his light tone and she wagged her head slowly from side to side. "I don't know," she said after a while. He studied her for a moment. "I know," he said. "I-"
"Don't," she interrupted, her eyes widening. "Don't say it, Clem. Please, don't say it."
"I don't have to say it, Amy. You know it without my saying it. And I thought I knew about you and sometimes-moments like this, for example-I'm sure I know it about you."
"It's the other moments, though," she said with a sigh. Then she smiled brightly, his words somehow having lifted the heaviness from her, and said: "We've gotten awfully serious for a gay picnic, haven't we? The lunch is delicious. Don't I bring the best picnic lunches you ever tasted?"
His mouth was full at the moment and he pointed to his stuffed cheek, tried to say something and only managed a splutter, which brought a squeal of laughter from Amy. She got up and pushed her hands through his hair and then pushed him over backwards. She was possessed suddenly with an abundance of animal spirits and stuck out her tongue at him and waited for him to get up and chase her. When he did she dashed off squealing happily into the trees and dodged around until she collapsed, gasping and giggling on a mossy mound.
He stood over her and then, suddenly, when she looked up at him she knew she didn't care about anything. This would be right, altogether and perfectly right. There would be a happiness for her that she had never known and which she wanted with a terrible and hungry and overpowering wanting that brushed aside the flimsy pretenses she had been making to herself. She stopped giggling and, from her position on the ground, she reached up both her arms to him. He misinterpreted her gesture and tried to pull her to her feet, but instead of yielding to his light tug, she pulled hard and dragged him down to her.
Her mouth searched out his savagely and there on a damp green mound of soft moss in the cool shadows of the trees, Amy knew she wanted to feel the rough strengh of his hands on her, to feel herself crushed in his arms. She pulled him hard against her.
Clem clawed urgently at her bathing-suit, ripping away the flimsy bra to expose her breasts. He paused then, circling the firm white hillocks of flesh with his fingers. Then, beginning to pant harshly, he peeled down the tight trunks and she was totally nude.
"Let's go," he said over his shoulder.
"You like?" she asked.
"You're a marvel," he said, cupping the soft mounds of her bosom. She opened her arms to him and dragged him to her.
"Clem, Clem, oh, Clem," she moaned and she pressed her burning mouth against him again, pouring kisses on his lips and his neck, until there was a wild sweetness coursing through her that was more wonderful than anything had ever been.
She knew without thought but with a clarity that was almost incredible that it was the perfect Tightness. Then thought and everything else fled from her and there were only the two of them united in a rapture that moved them quickly and soaringly to a pinnacle of emotion.
She was not in a forest and not lying on the ground, but she was far away, surrounded by incredible sweetness and exquisite pleasure. Breathlessly she sought not to let the pleasure go, and she clung to him, prolonging every moment of ecstasy.
What came to her first was the smell of the pines. Her head was lying among soft brown needles and their odor was all around her. Then there was Clem and she pressed against him with a soft low moan, realizing only slowly that his arms were still around her, holding her tight. Her throat grew thick again with the knowledge of how wonderful it was to be held like that.
After a long while, she became conscious of her body and the earth under it. She stirred lazily and Clem moved. She looked down and saw herself, knowing now that she was really a woman and grateful to him that he had given her all that a woman could want from a man.
And so they spent the day, occasionally going in to swim, but hurrying back to one another's arms, both eager for the careless rapture they had discovered. She told him about herself, about her childhood and how she had been orphaned, but carefully doctoring the story to leave out Bull and Earl and utilizing her hold on him to conceal her reason for having come to Millersville. It did not occur to Clem to ask and he in turn told her about himself and his family and his hopes to be an engineer after his discharge from the Army.
When night came upon them they did not leave, but built a fire and clung to each other for warmth. Finally, in the light of the dying fire they dressed and walked, awkwardly embracing each other, back to the car. When they parted Clem said "Again tomorrow?" and Amy nodded and that was all.
It was not different yet it was not quite the same the following day. Everything was there as it was between them save the wonder of discovery that had added magic to the first day. At least to Amy the difference was apparent, seeming more like a rendezvous for an affair than the passionate onset of love that had occurred the day before. Not that the difference was a disappointment. Far from it. But there was a more settled air to their love this second day, which, in fact, was more suited to what she had in mind. She did not trouble to think about what Clem might have in mind, so pleased was she with her success in maneuvering things to suit her own desires.
The blow fell, however, in totally unexpected fashion. They were lying on their backs gazing up dreamily at the blue sky when Clem, raising himself on an elbow, asked:
"What are you going to do now, Amy?"
"Now?" She was scarcely paying attention to what she said. "I suppose the same as before."
He came erect and sat looking at her without speaking, his eyes troubled and unhappy.
"You mean the roadhouse?" His voice was little more than a whisper.
Blithely, Any nodded, not looking at him but gazing off into the sun-drenched panorama of trees. She was happy for the first time that she could remember since her parents were alive. There was no thought of the future disturbing her and she was lost in the present.
"No," Clem said with a harshness that snapped her head around sharply.
"No?" She did not get it at first. "No what?"
"I don't want you working in that roadhouse."
She stared at him, her eyes widening and then sat up abruptly, shifting around so that she faced him. It occurred to her that they were hardly dressed for a quarrel, he in his trunks and she in the flimsy suit that .was but a foil for her nakedness. And she had no intention of quarrelling, merely being taken aback by his apparent arrogance.
She moved her shoulders slightly in a gesture of indifference.
"I think that's something for me to decide, Clem," she said mildly.
"That's no place for you," he said with greater heat.
"You think I'll be spoiled there?" she asked, chucking-
"It's not funny," he insisted.
"I don't want to talk about it," she said.
He flushed, angered by her transparent refusal to accord him equal status in their relationship.
"But I do." His voice had lost its angry edge, but their was a quality of stubbornness in it that Amy could no longer ignore.
"Please, Clem," she said.
"How can a decent girl work in a place like that?"
He had stepped over the line and there was no going back now.
"It's rather late for you to be discovering that word," she said bitterly.
She got up and walked away from him. He rose and followed her, hotly persistent on what he wanted, not knowing her mood now and missing the cutting edge of her remark. But when he put his hands on her shoulders to turn her around to him she whirled out of his grasp with a speed and anger that stunned him.
"Decent." She spat out the word.
He saw what he had done, but he was in no mood foj retreat at this time, confident of his strength in a showdown.
"That's what I said and that's what I meant."
Her fury burst out now, spilling over him like hot lava.
"You weren't asking about good and bad yesterday or even this morning. You had other things on your mind then." She gestured down her body to emphasize her point. "Now that you've had what you wanted you think you have to dress it up and make it over to suit some ideas you have. Or is it that you're afraid I might go off with any soldier that wanders into the place? That's what you're thinking, isn't it?"
Her voice had grown shrill and when she flung the final accusation at him it was something between a shriek and a sob.
"That's not what I meant," he said weakly.
"Don't throw that word at me," she picked up: "You've got no rights over me."
He stepped toward her.
"Amy, I love you. I want to marry you."
She laughed bitterly.
"Am I supposed to dance with joy because you thought of the word? You're all alike. When you get in a little trouble you pull out that word and all of us girls are supposed to fall over in a faint or something. What makes you think I want to marry you? That's all I've got to do, hook myself onto a lieutenant who can't wait to throw my job up into my face. I suppose you're going to support me and do all the things I want on a lieutenant's pay? You never thought of marriage until this minute."
"But, Amy, I do want to marry you," he protested.
"Even if I'm not decent?" she taunted him.
"You are decent and I want to marry you," he said doggedly.
"Then what's my work got to do with it?" she challenged him.
"It's no work for a decent girl," he said flatly.
She stepped right close to him and looked angrily at him.
"It's my work," she said, dropping the words out slowly, like stones falling heavily to earth. "I want you to stop it." She laughed.
"I won't and that's all there is to it," she said, her anger dissipating.
He turned away from her and stalked over to where their things were and started picking them up.
"Let's go," he said over his shoulder.
She was surprised, but shrugged her shoulders. She would not be intimated by him and she was sure that she was not going to jump off the deep end because of a romantic weekend with a handsome boy. She went quietly to the car, not even dreaming of making a move to placate him. As Amy saw it, it was Clem who owed her an apology. They drove back in silence. When she got out of the car, he leaned over and stopped her.
"Amy, won't you change your mind?"
"No."
"Then I'll have to do something about it. Goodbye."
He made no attempt to set another date for them to meet and Amy felt that there was a finality about his goodbye that she did not like, but she did not find it too threatening. She was sure of her hold over him and did not think he would be able to hold out long against her.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Earl was full of anticipation of profits when he called for her the following evening, chattering cheerfully, full of appreciation for the way Amy looked and generally pleased with the way things were going for him. He told Amy that he had the full staff back as before the shutdown and felt safer than ever now that he had been closed once and come through it in good shape. Amy was sure she was not wrong when she read into his remarks a vague promise of more money for her if things worked out as Earl foresaw. She could not help but wonder how he would feel if he knew what had transpired over the weekend.
She did not tell him that she had quarrelled with Clem, not believing that it would do her any good. She felt that Earl would surely find it suspicious that their relationship should have reached the point where they could quarrel. Therefore she contented herself with telling him jokingly that she had gone swimming with Clem and that he had asked her to quit her job.
"Just like I told you," Earl boasted. "He thinks he's got an inside track and he don't want anybody else to come near you. He's playing the reform angle, but he's just nervous he can't hang onto you."
It was, crudely put though it was, pretty much what Amy herself thought about Clem's demand. She did not take his proposal of marriage seriously. While she did not believe it was out and out trickery on Clem's part, Amy did not think either that he actually had meant to go through with it. It was her idea that he had proposed because her indignant anger had put him against the wall and he was forced to do something to justify the proprietary attitude he had taken toward her.
Of her weekend with Clem she had no regrets, save that it had ended the way it had. If she had thought that their quarrel was final she would have been dismayed by it and forced to think more deeply about her feeling for him. As it was, however, she was so sure that he would come round. Despite her quarrel, when she thought of Clem it was with a real tenderness-and she thought of him often.
She had to ask herself if she loved him. It was a question she could no longer evade, especially since she had acted in a way that could prove fatal to their contact. There was an intensity of emotion aroused between them that the slightest spark could set them at each other in anger.
Yet it was not the anger that broke out between them that was-uppermost in Amy's mind. Rather it was the inexpressible hunger that existed when they were together. It was not an accident, she was sure, that this magic was between them, that the marvel she found in his arms was of a quality that made her grow weak even now when she recalled it.
"You cold?" Earl asked.
She looked at him with surprise.
"You shivered," he explained.
"Not me," she said.
"You're pretty quiet."
"What's there to talk about?"
He grinned wolfishly.
"Me and you, baby."
Coming as it did after her brief reverie about Clem, Earl's sudden show of affection and possessiveness spread a cold feeling in Amy's stomach. The contrast between the men was too sharp for her to accept at this moment and she would rather have taken from one love and from the other the material things that seemed as important as love.
"What about it?" she said carefully.
He looked away from the wheel for a moment and grinned at her again.
"Let's see how things work out, baby. I got ideas on the subject, though."
She breathed easier and felt herself relax. It was the last thing in the world she expected that it would be Earl who would upset the applecart, especially in view of the difficulties she was having with Clem. What the end of the affairs would be, she did not know, but she had hopes of working things out to suit herself.
The tavern had been spruced up while it was closed and had a shiny look. The people too had a fresh look about them, as if they had used the period of their layoff for an opportunity to scrub themselves and lie in the sunshine. The bartenders did not look so sallow and the girls, still hardlooking and cynical, did not look quite so jaded as they had before. Earl, surveying the scene, rubbed his hands together with pleasure.
Amy drifted over to the girls, who were sitting together waiting for the doors to open and their night's work to begin. She had not been friendly with them, . but now with nothing to do she felt easier with them than with the men.
"I guess the joint's going to be jumping tonight," one of them, a brunette named Jean, remarked.
"Yeah," said another, "them soldiers sure must have missed us."
"And we missed them," said Jean with a grin. "I ain't used to the quiet life no more.
"They must have been saving their money," a third girl said. "That's what I like to see, guys with plenty to spend."
Their cold-blooded talk repelled Amy, who sat quietly not joining in it. Jean, the first girl, gestured at her with her head.
"She don't care," she said. "She don't bother with GIs. We got to take it from them and she takes it from the boss."
Amy flushed.
"That's all you're good for," she said coldly.
"Yours don't wear a uniform, that's all," Jean said with malicious relish. "You get your dough the same way we do, honey, don't kid yourself. Only you get it second-hand."
The other girls laughed at this sally and Amy flushed again. She looked around and would have liked to make her escape, but she did not want to show any weakness before these girls. She rose and stood before them and then smiled at them maliciously.
"We, make sure you do a good job tonight," she said. "Since you're working for me, I'll be keeping an eye on you."
From the angry looks that showed on their faces, Amy knew that she had achieved her revenge and she walked away slowly, switching her hips with an exaggerated motion with each slow step. Despite her being able to turn the tables on them, she was still upset by what they said. It was not that the girls had showed their dislike of her that bothered Amy. In fact, that by itself would not have bothered her at all, would, in fact, have pleased her. Rather was it what they had said that had reached through to her and she tried to tell herself that it was untrue, that she was not at all like them. But no matter how fiercely she asserted this to herself, she could not altogether destroy the effect of their words. Coming on top of what had been the topic of her quarrel with Clem, the short exchange with the girls was more disturbing to Amy than it would have been ordinarily. The word "decent" was in her mind and she heard it as Clem had said it and now it stirred her to a repressed fury as she paced through the tavern.
The anger imparted a tautness to her, added a spring to her step that heightened her loveliness. She was wearing a gown that was daringly cut. As the doors opened Amy caught sight of herself in the mirror and the vision was not one to give the lie to what the girls had said. Her mouth curled with anger and she was prepared to welcome the soldiers in a fury that would strip them of their last cent. She felt now no pity for any of them, just a desire to avenge herself on anyone who might have the slightest idea of questioning her place in the world. It was about half an hour later when Amy, wrapped in her own anger, came out of it sufficiently to notice that the expected crowd of soldiers had not materialized. The tavern was virtually empty, with just a few civilians at the bar. The gambling room was empty and the girls were standing around disconsolately, talking to each other and waiting for something to do.
Earl came out of his office, ignored her and went to the bartender. She could not hear what he said but she knew it was about the absence of customers. She saw the bartender shrug his shoulders with a gesture obvious in its meaning and went back to polishing glasses. Earl looked around, his face vicious, and came over to her.
"I can't understand it," he said.
"Maybe they think we're still closed," Amy suggested.
"Nah, I tipped off the bus drivers," he said. "Gave them ten bucks each to pass the word around."
He stopped and thought for a moment.
"That's funny," he said. "I could have sworn I heard at least two buses stop outside since we opened. I'm going outside to have a look."
He walked out quickly and was back almost as quickly, his face twisted with anger. He came straight at Amy.
"What's with you and that lieutenant?" he demanded.
She looked at him, startled.
"What do you mean?" she stalled. "What's that got to do with it?"
He glared at her suspiciously.
"Plenty," he said. "Take a look for yourself."
She went to the door and looked out. A strange sight greeted her and she stared at it in disbelief. Clem's jeep was parked about twenty feet from the door, the white M.P. placard clearly visible. On either side of the door stood two uniformed MPs and scattered about were several others. Clem was seated in the jeep. A group of soldiers, more than a dozen were milling around, but none were coming into the tavern. Amy came back inside.
"What's he pulling?" Earl raged. "What's going on between you two? You giving me the double-cross:
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said coldly. "I told you I went swimming with him and that's all. And what's he got to do with the place being empty?"
He gave her a withering look.
"With all them cops out there none of the GIs are going to come in here," he said angrily. "They figure something's cooking and they're keeping their noses clean. He's trying to put me out of business."
She stared at Earl, the pieces falling neatly into place in her mind. She realized that this was what Clem had meant when he said that he would have to do something himself to get her out of the tavern. Now her anger flared up wildly at him and if it would not have betrayed her to Earl she would have rushed outside and told him off. She was outraged that he was trying to blackjack her in this way, that he felt himself free to insist on what he wanted and to risk what she wanted to gain his ends.
"Did you talk to him?" she asked Earl.
"What's the use?" he said tightly. "He knows what he's doing and I guess he's got his orders. The Army couldn't close me down, so they're handling it their own way."
"Let me try," Amy said coolly. "Maybe I can handle him."
"What can you do if it's the Army?"
"Maybe it's not the Army," she said.
His eyebrows went up and he stepped close to her.
"Baby, you didn't play around, did you?" he hissed.
She laughed softly.
"Maybe that's what the lieutenant wants," she said. "Let's find out what the score is, Earl. I'm going out to have a little talk with Lieutenant Erskine."
She told herself as she went that she must keep herself under control, but the anger was boiling up within her and she was determined to settle it with Clem right then and there. As she came out the door the air was cool on her bare shoulder and she saw Clem before he saw her. He was sitting up straight in the jeep looking at the soldiers who were waiting for the next bus to take them into town. She could not see his face.
Glancing up at the two MPs, she gave them each a smile, but they kept their faces frozen, glancing at her without interest. She went out toward the jeep, her high heels sinking slightly into the soft earth. Clem heard her coming and turned around and his face showed surprise, but nothing more. There was a determined set to his appearance that told Amy that her hopes of accomplishing anything were slight indeed.
His eyes took in her gown and she knew that this did not please him either. He made no attempt to say hello or anything, just sat in the jeep and waited for her to speak first. This angered her and she cast aside her restraints and let her face show her anger.
"What are you trying to do, Clem?" she asked in a low voice.
"Hello, Amy," he said coolly. "Aren't you chilly in that dress?"
"You didn't buy it for me," she snapped.
That hit home and she saw his eyes narrow.
"And I never would," he said.
"Or any other dress for that matter," she said. "Do you mind if I buy my own?"
He didn't answer, but looked stonily at her.
"It won't work, Clem," she said at last. "You can't force me to do anything I don't want to do. You're just making a fool of yourself."
"You're wasting your time." he said.
"It looks like I've wasted a lot of time."
That also hurt and he could not hide it.
"Go on inside and tell your boss that I'm camping out here with my men till he goes broke," he said, raising his voice a bit. "I'll see to it that this place is closed down."
"If it closes," she said harshly, "I'll leave town within twenty-four hours. That's all you'll accomplish."
"I'll take my chances on that." She already knew his stubborness and it had showed again.
"If a girl is broke she can do worse things than I do," she said.
"It's up to the girl." He was not buying her hidden threat.
"Of all the stubborn, arrogant men I've met in all my life," she exploded, "you're the worst. You're just spoiling everybody's fun. So why don't you pick yourself up and beat it?"
She had raised her voice in her irritation and several soldiers had gathered around to listen to the conversation between them. Clem noticed them and flushed angrily.
"You'd better go inside now," he said tightly.
They glared at each other for several moments longer and then Amy turned and went back into the tavern. One of the soldiers wolf-whistled at her and the others laughed loudly. Earl was waiting for her when she came back in. She eyed him disgustedly and then said:
"Looks like your little trick back-fired, Mr. Smart Guy," she said. "This is the lieutenant's idea of reforming me. He's going to park outside till I quit."
Earl stared at her as if he didn't believe what he heard. Then he cursed loudly.
"That little punk," he said. "I'll take care of him."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Two days later Clem was still parked outside the tavern with his squad of MPs. No word passed between him and Amy and she made it a point to wear the most revealing gowns Earl had bought for her, to tantalize him and infuriate him. But the deadlock remained.
Clem had all the aces, however, and Amy realized that it could not go on much longer. It would, of course, have been solved if she would quit. But she would not think of doing that now and she told herself that she hated Clem as much as she hated any man. More than Bull. Bull had just wanted to enjoy her and, in fact, had never tried to interfere in her life. Clem, however, was not content to enjoy her and he was bent on spoiling the best job she'd ever had. Her rage, however, was matched by her inability to do anything about the situation.
Earl called her into his office the third night that Clem was parked outside. A few soldiers had braved the presence of the MPs and were at the bar, but the place was largely deserted. Earl was in the little cubicle under the staircase that served as his office and he was seated at a small desk. Amy sat down opposite him, wondering what was on his mind. It had occurred to her that Earl could have saved his business any time he wanted to by firing her and she felt a sense of gratitude to him for his loyalty to her. She knew that there was little in the world that Earl valued above money, perhaps nothing. But it did seem that she was the exception. Of course, Amy realized that it was also a matter of his masculine pride but she could well imagine similar men trying to meet the situation in that way. She knew that in her present circumstances she would be hard-pressed to refuse if he should ask her to live with him as his mistress. She wondered if that was what coming now.
"Well, baby," he began, "we got to do something about that punk outside. He's going to put me out of business if we let him get away with this."
She waited for what was coming.
"You want me step out, Earl?" She could not hold back the question.
He stared at her as if she were out of her mind.
"Knuckle under to that punk! You're off your nut, honey. We play out the string together, baby. I said you're my luck and I mean it. I got big plans for you and me and no punk of a looie is going to bust them up."
He paused and studied her, his dark eyes glittering coldly at Amy.
"You got enough guts to come in on something with me?" he asked, in a low voice.
"What is it?" she asked nervously.
She was afraid of what was coming, fearful that Earl had some criminal venture in mind. His manner did nothing to dispel her fears.
"We got to get rid of the .looie," he said. "And Earl knows the way. Neat and simple, but sure. But got to have you in on it. Without you, baby, it won't work."
She waited for him to explain, but he wanted some encouragement from her. It came quickly. If it were just a matter of revenge on Clem she was available. She had a bigger score to settle with him than Earl had. These days when she thought of how he had made love to her she writhed with anger, though the memory of the beauty and the pleasure was there also.
"Sure, Earl," she said softly.
"Well," he expounded, "what is the punk, I asked myself? Just a sucker. In fact, he's the biggest sucker around here and by parking himself outside he proves it. He wants the bait. "Who's the bait, baby? You. We got the bait he wants and we got to make him come for it. Do you think you can get him to come in here?
She thought for a moment.
"What are you going to do when he comes in?"
He studied her again.
"You sure you want to know, baby?"
She grew alarmed.
"You're not going to hurt him?"
He chuckled.
"No especially. What good will that do me? Make more trouble, that's all. I'm gonna frame him, that's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna hang the sweetest, nearest rap around his neck that ever was. When we get through with him, he'll be sorry he ever landed in the Army. But I don't want to hurt him. No sir. I need him in good shape, so's I can deliver him over nicely taped for the Army."
She did not follow him at all. He grinned wolfishly at her.
"He's an officer, ain't he?" Earl conitnued. "Well, if he breaks the rules, he gets the book thrown at him. You get him in here alone and I'll make sure he breaks the rules. Then I'll hand him over nice and tight to the Army and let the Army get rid of him for me. Easy, huh?"
She thought it over. It did not sit well with her, but if she refused, she would be finished with Earl. She knew that she had no real alternative. Saying no meant going out on the streets. And she would not give Clem that satisfaction. Saying yes on the other hand would give her the revenge she wanted.
"Okay, Earl." Her smile was cold. "I'll do it. Just give me about half an hour's notice and I'll take care of it."
"Swell. There's another angle and I'm not sure if I want you in on it or not. I'll need a girl to make a complaint to the Army."
She stared at him.
"You mean-"
"That's it," he interrupted.
She shook her head slowly from side to side.
"That's laying it on him pretty hard, isn't it, Earl?"
"It's him or me," he said. "I didn't ask him to park himself out there, did I? He's trying to frame me and I got to hit back."
"But why so much?"
"The more mud I throw on him the more will stick."
She nodded slowly, seeing his way of thinking. This was a little more than she had bargained for and she did not misread Earl's words in putting it to her. He wanted it to be her, but he wanted her to volunteer. Before he put himself out on a limb, Earl wanted to make sure of her.
"Then it has to be me, Earl," she said slowly. "They all know it's me he's after and it won't stick for a minute with somebody else."
"Yeah," he agreed quietly, confirming her guess about his intentions. "I guess it's got to be you, sugar. Well, you get him in here and I'll tell you the rest of it then."
"All right, Earl."
She got up and went out of the little cubicle under the stairs and walked around the almost empty tavern trying to find a place where she could be alone. But there was no place that suited her and she did not want to be with Earl or with the hostesses, or with the few lushes at the bar and the dozing crooks at the gambling tables.
No one else in this whole world besides Earl knew what she was going to do and even Earl did not know exactly how much treachery was involved. She guessed that if he knew even he might be aghast at the step she was about to take. Not that he would not applaud it, but it would surely give even him pause.
She hated the choice that lay before her, but she directed her hate at Clem, blaming him for her predicament. He was a soldier, one of a breed that had done her no good. A soldier had caused her to come to this place and it was a soldier who now was threatening her.
The signal from Earl did not come until several hours later and she was fuming at the delay when it came. She could not reason it out and did not notice that the only sober witnesses to the impeding event were all employees of the tavern. Everyone else in the place had been given sufficient quantities of liquor-on the house, if necessary-to make sure they saw only what Earl wanted them to see.
"Take him into the back," Earl told her.
She went out slowly, trying to figure out what she was going to say, ignoring the hard lump that was suddenly in her throat and the strange stiffness that seemed to control her legs.
"Hello, Clem," she said as she approached the jeep. She managed to keep her voice low and impart to it a note of intimacy that reached through his reserve.
His eyes showed some eagerness but she was not interested in it this time. It merely was a sign indicating success in her project. If she felt anything at this moment, it was contempt that he should prove so easy despite all his pretense of strength and wisdom.
"What's on your mind, Amy?"
She smiled softly, lowered her eyelids, and looked about at the soldiers standing nearby.
"I'd like to talk to you, Clem," she said.
He looked suspicious and his face returned to the hard cast it had worn when she first appeared.
"All right," he said flatly. "Talk."
She forced herself to smile again. He could not know that her smile was false and she hated him for spurning it in the way that he did.
"I'm not a representative of the enemy, Clem," she said.
"I know who you are, Amy."
"I'd like to talk to you alone, since you're making me beg," she said, letting a tiny edge of irritation creep into her voice.
He looked around and his eyes settled on a corner outside the tavern.
"No," she said. "Come inside with me."
He looked sharply at her and then shook his head slowly.
"I can't go in there," he said.
Now she let her eyes meet his as she waited for him to speak again.
"I really can't," he said.
"I can't speak to you out here," she said softly. "If you want to see me, you'll have to come in."
With that she turned and walked slowly away from him, giving him a good view of her and taking plenty of time till she reached the door. She was about two steps away from the entrances and was beginning to think that she had failed when she heard him step out of the jeep and come after her with quick steps. She knew that it had worked out perfectly and that his coming after her this way would even cause his own men to contribute unwittingly to his downfall with their testimony. To reinforce that impression she turned on the doorstep, gave him a cool glance, and then went in.
She was waiting inside, of course, and she went up to him quickly and put her hand in his and then led him toward the back. He stopped and would go no further.
"What's wrong here?"
For an answer she merely looked around the room and started toward the rear again. He hesitated and then came along with her.
"What's all the mystery?" he demanded.
"It's no mystery, Clem," she said. "I just felt like talking to you for a while, that's all."
"What about?" There was a sudden warmth in his voice that had not been there fore.
But before she could even think about it they were moving through the designated doorway where two men stood on either side. She heard the soft swish of an object moving through the air and she heard the sound of a skull being hit. She walked on away from the scene and could not bring herself to turn around to see what had happened.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They had slugged him neatly, if not hard, and whatever bruise showed would be no problem because it would fit in with the frame-up they had organized. She turned around finally and there he was, lying on the floor unconscious, his face looking suddenly so young and helpless that she felt that she ought to cry over what she had done. But it was done and there was no turning back now, no matter how she felt about it.
The bouncers dragged him out of the doorway and Earl come out with a bottle of whiskey. They forced open his mouth and poured it into him. Some of it went down, some of it spilled on his jacket and that was all right too.
"When he comes to, keep him quiet," Earl told the bouncers. "Make sure you get penty of juice into him. I want him all primed in about half an hour."
Earl grinned at her.
"Nice work, baby. We've got this punk right where we want him and inside of an hour we'll be through with him. Tomorrow the joint will be jumping. What a sap!"
Amy could not stop Earl. This part of the job had been bad enough, but she dreaded what was yet to come. She was a little numb now and found it difficult to feel anything.
They had really made him drunk Amy saw when it came time to wind up the performance. He looked the part they had set for him, his eyes bloodshot, his uniform awry and reeking of liquor. She came out of the back room with him, ostensibly with his arm around her, but actually holding him up so that he would not fall. He was still semi-conscious, but coming out of it quickly when she shoved him into a booth and got in beside him. After a few minutes his eyes came into partial focus, he shook his head and tried to speak. She knew his bewilderment, but she was beyond caring now.
Amy leaned toward him and when she was close to him she ripped her gown at the bodice where it covered the hollow between her breasts. As she did, she gave a loud scream and pretended to jump to her feet. Two bouncers came running over and one of the girls ran outside, shouting that the lieutenant had gone crazy and was attacking a girl.
By the time the MPs got inside the tableau was neatly formed. Clern lay on the floor at Amy's feet, with the two bouncers standing beside him. Amy, looking upset, was holding the torn pieces of her gown and Earl was just coming upon the scene from his office. To the MPs, the situation seemed to speak for itself.
"What's going on?" Earl demanded loudly.
"He got fresh with Amy," one of the bouncers said, pointing to Clem.
Earl seemed to notice Amy for the first time and put on a convincing show of being surprised.
"Got fresh! It looks like he tried to take her apart. That lousy punk of a lieutenant. This time he's gone too far. I'm gonna have his bars for this."
He turned to the sergeant who had come in.
"I want to make a complaint," he said loudly. "This bum has been trying to put me out of business and now he tried to attack one of my girls."
"Take it easy, Mister," the sergeant said. "You didn't even see what happened."
"See! I got eyes enough. Did I have to be in the room to know? I can tell what happened all right. What happened, Amy?"
"He followed me inside," she said in a low voice. He wanted me to go out with him and he started to drink and then he tried to grab me and when I tried to go away from him he tore my dress. That's when I screamed."
"That's enough for me," Earl said quickly. "Come on, kid, we're going over to the camp with the boys and we're going to make a complaint."
When Amy stood uncertainly, he said:
"Never mind about the dress, kid. I want them to see just what that louse did."
There was nothing left for the sergeant to do, but to take names and addresses and check the story. Then Clem was loaded into the jeep and Amy and Earl followed in Earl's car.
Amy sat beside Earl, holding the torn parts of her gown over her breasts and stared out into the darkness that enveloped the fields on either side of the road. It was a cruel revenge she had taken, but what was worse was the look she had seen in the sergeant's eye when he glanced first at Clem and then at her. There was such complete contempt in that glance that Amy had shrivelled under its impact. But she knew what he thought of her even if he had no idea that it was a frame-up.
They were a strange group parading into the base.
The officer on duty took one look at them and his face turned grave. He was one of the men who had been with Clem and Amy when she had been there to identify Bull and he recognized her at once. Earl started speaking at once, but the officer shut him up, turning to the sergeant. The sergeant told the story matter-of-factly and the officer glanced at Amy from time to time.
"You seem to be quite a femme fatale for our men, Miss Lovett," he remarked grimly.
"I'm sure it's not my fault," she said in a subdued voice.
His eyes raked her coldly.
"Are you making the charges?" he asked, "or do you want to let the Army handle the matter?" She looked confused.
"If you want to press a charge of attack against Lieutenant Erskine, you'll have to do it in civil court."
She shook her head.
"I don't want to press any charges," she said quickly. "I just want him to stop bothering me."
"He will," the officer said dryly. "I'm sure he will."
He turned to the sergeant.
"All right,, sergeant. Place Lieutenant Erskine under arrest and confine him to the guardhouse."
In the car going back to town Earl was gay.
"Honey, you did a job that was perfect," he told her. "You had them eating out of your hand."
"Shut up," she said savagely. "Just shut up." He stared at her. "What's the matter?"
"Shut up!"
When they reached Mrs. Cartison's, she pushed open the door and ran up the stairs to her room, threw herself down on the bed and wept. When she had cried herself out she got up and finished the job on the dress, tearing it from herself as if it were a contamination. Then she tore the rest of her clothing and stared at her nude body in the mirror, her eyes filled with horror and loathing.
But it was done and all her histronics now could not change it. She had protected herself. She had made sure that her income was unharmed, that this soldier would not play with her as had the first, that she would emerge from the encounter uncasthed. Yet, had she? The pain she felt now was evidence that she had not. She dared not think about what might happen to Clem.
Least of all dared she think about herself and Clem. She could not let her mind slip back to that day at the swimming place, yet she could not prevent it from doing so. She groaned aloud when she thought of it and wept afresh.
And the worst of it was that she was Earl's now, Earl's completely. She was tied to him now by a partnership that she could not break. And now that it had happened, she knew that it was something she would not be able to take for long, if at all. What she had felt for him in the car would not grow weaker, but stronger. She could not even pull out of it if she wanted to because of Earl's revenge. She remembered how vicious he had been when he thought she might be double-crossing him. He would not balk at anything, if she tried it now.
She crawled into bed, seeking sleep that would not come. For hours she tossed, a prisoner of remorse and anguish, hoping for release from the torture she was experiencing. It was not until shortly before dawn that she managed to drop off into a dream-harassed sleep.
When she woke close to midday, Amy was haggard and tense. She tried not to think of Clem. Instead she concentrated on herself, and how she had to pretend love with Earl Rommel. The more she tried to tell herself that he was a man, just like all the rest, the more she rebelled against it. There was no way out for her, she realized. Where she had managed to tolerate Earl before, pretending love in exchange for the things he gave her, now she knew that she hated him since he had framed Clem.
Yet she was afraid of him nevertheless. In fact, because of her hate she knew she had greater cause for fear. If Earl should guess her feeling he would act quickly and ruthlessly to protect himself and destroy her. And the blow would fall without warning, as it had on Clem.
She knew that tonight he would demand new proof of her loyalty to him, that he would expect her to celebrate with him the success of their stratagem. Yet before that she would have to go through a night at the tavern. It was too much for her to face and she decided to beg off. She called him and told him she was not feeling well and would not be in that night. She could tell he did not like it, even though he said nothing that would tend to show that.
To her surprise he showed up at Mrs. Cartison's that afternoon. If she had not know him so well she would have thought it was real concern for her, but she knew he was checking up on her. He brought flowers but she was not deceived by them. Even as he handed them to her his eyes searched her face for a clue about his suspicions.
Now, seeing that, Amy had a sickening moment of. intuition when she wondered how much Earl had guessed about Clem and herself. Everything was suddenly too pat. She stared at Earl with growing suspicion that he had managed things in such a way as to dispose of a suspected rival.
She got rid of him quickly, but by the time evening rolled around the thought of staying alone got her down and she decided that she would go to work after all. It would be better to keep busy than to brood about what had happened. They way her mind kept coming back to Clem frightened Amy.
By the time she dressed and reached the tavern it was later than usual and the place had come alive as a result of their coup of the preceding day. No jeep stood outside and no MPs were posted at the doors. Inside there were dozens of soldiers crowding the bar, their arms around the girls, talking, shouting, singing and drinking. As Earl had said, the place was jumping.
But a curious thing had happened to Amy. Whereas before she had moved among the soldiers with contempt and dislike, now her attitude had swiftly changed. That they should be fleeced, bilked and cheated in every possible way, made her pity them. She saw their youth and she could not help but recall how young Clem's face had seemed when he was lying on the floor the night before.
What she had done to Clem was over, but the idea of continuing along that road and pushing more soldiers along it was hard for her to accept. Somehow all the fine plans, all the wonderful things that were going to happen to her had lost their attractiveness. In acting to protect these things she had inexplicably lost the desire for them. She was gentle with the GIs this night and did not bother to steer them into the gambling room. When Earl complained, she explained it by saying that she still didn't feel well and had made a mistake in coming in.
He sent her home with one of the bouncers and Amy was glad to be out of the place. She had to decide what to do, but she felt trapped. She had never felt so alone in her life.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The most interested observer of Clem's arrival in the guardhouse was his cellmate who happened to be none other than Bull. He recognized the lieutenant of MPs who had arrested him and made him the fall guy for Amy's revenge.
It was a miserable and confused young officer whom he greeted sardonically the following morning with a "Welcome, Brother Bum." The liquor that had been poured into Clem the night before left him with a terrific hangover. That plus the jolt of waking in the guardhouse had thrown him completely for a loss and he was in a state of total dejection and confusion.
He sat on his bunk, head in his hands, staring at the floor. He paid no attention to Bull, whose incarceration had not affected his cheeriness. Popular with the men, Bull's period in the guardhouse had not been unpleasant for him, though being broken to a private rankled. Bull had liked his authority that went with his stripes-and the pay was not to be sneezed at. However, he looked forward to recovering his stripes quickly enough, since there was enough inexperienced officers around to make a good sergeant the most valuable property in the Army.
He did not blame Amy for what she had done to him and he had kept his mouth shut about her when he had come to trial, partly out of a small sense of guilt and partly because he had thought his story would not be believed anyway.
His feelings about Clem, however, were not so generous. He was more inclined to blame Clem, since he thought the officer should have seen through the situation. Even if he had not, he could have dropped the matter once they left the bar and dismissed him with a warning. It was inexperience, he knew, but he could not forgive it.
"So you tied one on last night?" he jeered at Clem. "And you wound up in the pokey, just like me."
Clem stared at him without recognition for a moment. Then a wild look came into his eye and he jumped to his feet. Bull, startled, threw up his hands, expecting Clem to swing. But Clem just stared at him and then, shaking his head sadly, sat down again on the bunk. Bull thought he was loco.
"Didn't they sober you up yet, pal?" he asked.
"I was framed," Clem said bitterly.
"That's what they all say," Bull roared with laughter. "You ought to know, being an MP yourself. They're always framed. I was framed too."
Clem looked up at him, thinking hard.
"I'll bet you were," he said slowly.
Bull shrugged his big shoulders.
"Maybe I was," he said with indifference, "but it don't make no difference now. I'm finishing my month today. I pleaded guilty and that was that."
Clem relapsed into silence and Bull ignored him. He really had no interest in this officer, but the fact that a lieutenant of MPs should wind up in the guardhouse after an apparent drunken brawl intrigued him. It was just too much out of the ordinary for him to take.
"Where did it happen, Lieutenant?" he asked.
Clem studied him for a moment.
"Same place," he said wearily.
Bull grinned. "You too!" he said.
He could understand it easily enough now. Amy had become quite a dish since he gave her the business and he could easily see a kid like the lieutenant getting into a mess. They learned fast, these girls did, he thought. He'd never known a girl as naive as Amy but look how quickly she'd changed. He no longer felt sorry for Clem.
After breakfast Bull was turned loose and he waved a cheery boodbye to Clem and walked out to rejoin his unit. But he stopped by to talk to one of his pals in the base office and got the dope on Clem. Bull, however, guessed quickly what had happened.
"The lieutenant is getting a raw deal," he told the soldier. "He was framed, neat and sweet. That little gal is right in the middle of it, but I don't know just where."
"Keep your nose clean, Bull. You just out and you ain't got any stripes now."
"Don't worry about old Bull. He'll do all right. And maybe he'll get those stripes back after all."
He went whistling along and reported to his company officer.
"Glad to have you back, Hanrahan. Maybe you'll keep out of trouble next time you get a pass."
"Thank you, sir. That's what I'd like to ask you about. I was wondering if I could have a pass today, sir."
The captain just gaped at Bull.
"It's pretty important, sir," Bull went on. "I'll give you my word that I won't take a single drink, sir."
"I think the guardhouse has affected your mind, Hanrahan. Maybe you'd better report on sick call."
"No, sir, I feel fine," Bull went on, confident that he would succeed. "It's nothing I can go into right now, sir, but I have to find something out."
The captain looked as if he understood.
"The girl who got you into this mess?" he asked.
"No, sir!" Bull lied. "I never want to see her again. This is about a buddy of mine, sir."
He knew that the captain would not give him a pass to see a girl and he hoped that if the made it sound important enough, the captain might okay it. The captain liked him and he knew he'd like to have him as a sergeant again.
"Okay, Hanrahan. But remember, you haven't any stripes to lose, but I have a pair of bars. No trouble or we're both in for it."
"No trouble, sir. And thank you, sir."
He saluted smartly and walked off, grinning. He felt sure he would get his stripes back now. All he needed was just enough to give the captain something to stand on and everything would be jake. And, of course, it wouldn't hurt to be in good with the MPs. Do them a favor and it can come back to you in a million ways.
It was a little past three in the afternoon when Mrs. Cartison climbed the stairs to tell Amy that there was a soldier to see her.
"A soldier?" Amy asked, confused.
She could not think of any soldier who could come to see her except Clem and she knew it was not he. She told Mrs. Cartison to send him up and she sat back to wait. When the door opened and Bull stood before her the blood drained out of her face. She started out of her chair and then sank back. She said nothing.
Surprised to see me, Amy?" he grinned. "Just thirty days, that's all. They don't give you life for that."
"What do you want?" she asked sullenly, her resentment against him boiling up quickly. "I've got nothing to talk to you about."
"But I got something to talk to you about, baby."
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I'm not afraid of you, Bull."
"You said it, honey. All you got to do is open your mouth and start hollering and they'll put me away forever. I'm the guy that's afraid, not you."
She smiled nastily.
"You don't see me crying," she said.
"That was a nice trick you pulled on me," Bull said easily. He pulled up a chair and sat down, turning it around so that the back of the chair was in front of him. "I got to admit I fell for it pretty easy. But, after all, I always said you had enough looks for any dame. I ain't sorry I went for you, Amy. And I don't blame you for what you did to me.
You figured you got a raw deal and you got revenge. Okay, we're square as I see it."
It didn't sound like this was what Bull had come to see her about and she waited for him to come to the point. But he made no effort to do so and sat there watching her, looking around at the room. Then he got up and looked into her closet. She started to get angry, but decided that this was what he wanted, so she controlled herself.
"I'm busy," she said finally. "If you want to say anything, you'd better make it quick."
"Nice clothes," Bull said. "Pretty good payoff."
She flushed.
"I can still scream," she said coldly.
"Yeah," he grinned. "Excuse me, I forgot. I hear you've been practicing lately."
His remark hit home and she could not hide the consternation she felt. Her mouth fell open, her eyes widened and she looked away from him quickly. Then she closed her mouth and began to chew on her underlip.
"I don't know what you mean," she said at last, almost whispering.
"I mean the lieutenant," he said flatly. "We were cellmates last night. But I got out this morning. So I decided to look you up."
"He-he told you." She had gone very pale and her breath was coming very fast.
Bull shook his head. He felt very confident about it now and he was going to take his time.
"No. He just said he was framed. I guessed the rest."
She sneered at him.
"Keep guessing," she said.
"He was spoiling your setup," he said.
"I just work there. He's just a soldier and he's like all the rest. He thinks all he had to do is whistle."
"He's just a kid."
"So was I!"
Bull wasn't so confident now. He had underestimated Amy's real hatred for him.
"He sent you," Amy accused him. "He cried on your shoulder and you're trying to fix it up for him so you'll be in good with an officer."
Her shrewd guess about his motives threw him off and he got a little angry that she should see through him so easily.
"You used to be a nice kid, Amy," he said. "Whatever you did to me, I had it coming, but-"
"Used to be is right," she interrupted angrily. "And who the hell are you to come crying around to me now? I'm not a kid any more and I don't care about being nice. You're wasting my time."
Bull got out of his chair and took a step toward her. He glowered down at her.
"So that kid's got to take the rap because you're still carrying a mad against me," he growled. "Amy, you're no good. He's an officer and it don't mean much to me either way. But he's getting the dirtiest kind of a deal I ever heard of. What did he ever do to you that you got to finger him for this? He's finished, if you go through with it. He won't get thirty days like me. He'll get the book thrown at him. Busted, with a dirty rap like that on his record and a long hitch in the can. I got you figured for strictly a louse, if you go through with it."
Amy was shaken by Bull's direct attack on her. She had managed to stave off her feelings of guilt by retreating behind the armor of her hate for Bull. But now his words shattered the wall she held between them and held up directly before her what she herself could no longer deny. She could no longer be defiiant, but she forced herself not to crumble before Bull.
"I don't have to listen to you," she said sullenly.
"No, you don't have to listen, Bull said savagely. "All you got to do is frame guys. Nobody ever did that much to you. That kid's life is up to you and if you let that frameup stand, you're lower than I think you are."
Her face had come apart piteously now but she attempted to hide it by jeering at him. He saw the effect he was having on her but he could not understand the reason for it.
"What's in it for you?" Amy managed to say.
He just glared at her and didn't answer.
"I think you're right," he said. "I'm just wasting my time."
He turned and stalked out heavily, leaving her alone. Amy remained where she was, staring at the closed door. Then she fell across the bed and sobbed without control.
She did not hear Mrs. Cartison come in and she did not see the woman standing there, her cold face unchanging, watching her weep. She only knew she was there when Mrs. Cartison sat herself down on the bed beside her. The older woman made no move to comfort her, just sat and waited for Amy to calm down.
Finally, Amy managed to control herself and lifted her tear-streaked face to Mrs. Cartison.
"What's the trouble, child?" she asked in her clipped speech.
"I've done something terrible," Amy said and began sobbing anew.
Mrs. Cartison waited patiently.
"I don't want to hear about it," she said after a while. "It's none of my business and I don't want to know about it. But if I were you and anything I did made me feel so bad, I'd sure try to find a way to fix it up so's I felt better about it. Now you go ahead and have your cry and when you're feeling a little better come down and have a bite to eat. Never any good to do these things on an empty stomach. Just so long as it wasn't a death or something like that, I guess everything will turn out all right."
She got up and went out without looking back. Amy watched her go. She sat there until nightfall, not stirring off the bed and it was only then that she made her way downstairs to Mrs. Cartison's kitchen.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Shortly before midnight a strange sight greeted the eyes of the sergeant on duty at the Army base. It was unusual enough for anyone to be coming in then, but the sight of two women made him doubt his eyesight for a moment. They were, of course, Amy and Mrs. Cartison. The sergeant, who had been on duty both times before when Amy arrived, grinned when he recognized her. "What, no MPs?" he said.
Amy lowered her eyes, but Mrs. Cartison fixed the sergeant with a cold eye and said:
"No remarks, young man. We're here on important business. I'd like to see your commanding officer."
The sergeant wiped the smile off his face.
"I'll call him, ma'm," he said. "What's it about?"
"We'll tell it to your officer," she said.
Mrs. Cartison had taken charge completely. When Amy came down from her room, she had not told her landlady anything about her problem and Mrs.-Cartison made no effort to pry. But she had reached down deep inside herself and knew she had done harm to the man she loved.
It was Mrs. Cartison whose shrewdness had saved the day. She had guessed that the situation revolved around Clem, but she had no idea, of course, what it was all about. She waited for Amy to tell her, but Amy could not bring herself to do it, fearing condemnation and also that she would break down again. She was oppressed by a sense of hopelessness and the knowledge that she was trapped.
"I wouldn't keep it bottled up inside me," Mrs. Cartison said after a while.
Amy sat silent.
"Well, whatever it is, Amy, you'd better do something about it," she tried again. "After all, whatever you've done, I'm sure you can set it right again, if you try."
At this Amy looked up.
"You're right," she said. "I've been thinking about myself and it's about time I stopped. Will you come out to the Army base with me? I don't want to go alone."
Mrs. Cartison was startled by this suggestion. "Now? Tonight?"
"Yes," Amy said doggedly. "I can't give myself a chance to change my mind."
Mrs. Cartison agreed, and made Amy wait until she changed her dress. Amy paced through Mrs. Cartison's parlor, chewing her underlip. She felt immensely relieved by the step she was about to take. Whatever happened now, she was sure Clem would not suffer. She was not thinking about herself, though she knew that she would have to take Earl's possible vengeance into account. Mrs. Cartison called a taxi and they settled back for the drive out to the Army base. The only thing that bothered Mrs. Cartison was that Amy had not told her what it was. She felt it was something that she deserved to know.
Now, waiting for the officer to make his appearance, Amy was filled with a sense of trepidation. Could anything happen to her for what she had done? She had no hopes of anything for herself, but she did not want to give up her freedom. The officer came in and Amy halted her pacing. She recognized him as the same officer who had been on duty the night Clem had been brought in.
"I want to make a statement about Clem-I mean, Lieutenant Erskine," she said ;n a low voice.
The officer's eyebrows shot up and he looked from .Amy to Mrs. Cartison.
"Come with me, Miss Lovett," he said.
He made no mention of Mrs. Cartison and ignored her. The older woman set her lips in a tight line to indicate her displeasure and sat back to wait for the outcome of this midnight trip.
"I'm Captain Carson, Miss Lovett," the officer said when they were in his office. "What is it you want to say t
"Clem is innocent," she whispered.
"I'm not surprised, Miss Lovett," the captain said. "Just what did happen at that tavern?"
She told him the whole story in a low voice, at times inaudible. She left out only her love for Clem. Then, when she had finished, she sat back and waited for Captain Carson to speak.
"I'm glad you came," he said. "Clem's a fine officer and he was about to be shipped out when this happened. I'm glad you cleared him because it might have been very serious."
She got up at once.
"I have to leave," she said nervously.
"Don't you want to wait?" he asked in surprise.
Before he could stop her she was out of his office and running down the corridor and out into the night with Mrs. Cartison bustling after her. The cab was waiting for them and they hurried into it and set off back to town.
"I have to pack" Amy told Mrs. Cartison. Mrs. Cartison looked stunned. "Everything's all right?" she asked. Amy nodded.
"Then why do you have to leave?"
"I can't stay," she said tensely. "There's nothing for me here now."
Mrs. Cartison shrugged her shoulders and sat back in her seat. They drove the rest of the way in silence. When they got back to the house it was one o'clock in the morning.
"You can't go anywhere's now," Mrs. Cartison told her. "There's nothing leaving town at this hour."
"I'll pack," Amy said, "and I'll leave first thing in the morning."
In her room, however, she suddenly was without strength and she collapsed weakly on the bed. Where could she go? There was only one place-back to the city.
When she first arrived in Millersville she had thought she had a man she loved, but had been cruelly deceived. Then she had gone to the other side and forgotten about love. And when she had found it, she had not been able to recognize it. Her only hope now was to make a fresh start somewhere's else.
Finally she began to pack. So wrapped was she in her chore that she did not hear a car pull up outside with a squeal of brakes. She came out of it when she heard Mrs. Cartison's short scream followed by the sound of heavy steps racing up the stairs.
Her door was flung open and there was Earl, his clothes dishevelled and his face vicious.
"You spilled your guts," he snarled and stepped across the room and slapped her hard across the face without waiting for her to speak.
"Thinking of running out?" he said and strewed the clothes out onto the floor.
Amy backed away from him, fear-stricken. He came at her again and she tried to get away, but he caught her by the wrist and twisted it sharply.
"The cops tried to pick me up," he hissed, "but I got away and all I've got to do is take care of you and I'm on my way."
Desperately, Amy tried to twist away from him and she kicked out sharply and caught him on the leg. He cursed and his grip loosened momentarily. She got her wrist free and dodged past him and ran screaming through the door. Earl came after her quickly and she ran down the stairs with him thundering behind her. As she reached the bottom the outer door opened and Clem came bursting in. He shot right past her toward Earl who leaped at him from the steps and knocked him down.
They rolled around on the floor for a few minutes and then both got to their feet. Earl tried to get past Clem, who hit him savagely in the face and then pummeled at him ferociously. Earl tried to defend himself but he crumbled under the assault, his face dissolving into a bloody smear. Clem hammered without mercy until he collapsed unconscious on the floor. "Clem!"
She stood frozen, unable to do what she wanted, which was to throw herself into his arms. But he made the decision for her by stepping toward her. He caught her in his arms and pressed his mouth against hers, holding her tight, cradling her head in his arms.
"Are you all right?"
She nodded, tears in her eyes.
"What made you come?" She didn't know what to ask first.
"Carson told me you ran out and I was afraid you were going to run away." She nodded.
"I was," she said. "I was packing when he came."
"What did he want?"
"The police are after him. He wanted to get revenge on me for telling the truth."
He looked at her tenderly.
"Why did you want to run?"
She blushed and didn't answer.
"You knew I would come, didn't you?"
"I guess I was ashamed," she said shyly.
"So am I," he said. "I should never have forced you."
She looked at him in amazement. "You! You did nothing wrong." He grinned happily.
"Well, we won't quarrel about that. I'll be leaving soon and I want to get married before we do." She looked down.
"Are you sure you want to marry me, Clem? You know all about me now."
"I wouldn't want anyone else," he said warmly.
Just then a strange sight met their eyes. Mrs. Cartison marched out of. her parlor, carrying the oldest shotgun imaginable.
"If there's going to be a wedding," she said coldly, "we better do it right."
