I
Mrs. Kennedy was very tired that afternoon. She had just finished
scrubbing a kitchen for a tenant, crawling laboriously across the greasy
soft-wood boards with her brush and her pail and her cloth. There had
been some foreign sort of fish stew cooking on the stove all the time,
and the smell had turned her sick. She had got splinters into her
water-softened hands, and her back ached with a ferocious, burning ache.
She came down the basement stairs carrying the empty pail, slowly--far
more slowly than she used to come.
"There’s not a thing in for my supper," she thought. "Well, I shan’t
bother to go out and get anything. I’ll just lay me down and rest. I’m
tired--tired _out_!"
The front door was unlatched. She pushed it open with her foot, and went
along to the kitchen. She wanted a cup of tea, but she couldn’t make the
effort to get it ready. She couldn’t even lie down. She sat on the
step-ladder chair, straightening her aching back and supporting it with
one hand while her eyes roved about her neat and dismal little domain,
hoping to discover what she very well knew wasn’t there--something to
eat, prepared and ready.
She was beginning to be dulled and blunted by solitude. Her life’s
incentive was gone; she had no reason for working and living other than
an animal reason--to feed herself. Her spirit had no food, and it was
perishing.
She had a vague distaste for death, which was just sufficiently stronger
than her apathy to preserve her existence. She slept in her underground
cave, cooked and ate what was essential, kept it and herself respectable
and clean, and went dully on working, working, going wherever she was
bidden, doing whatever she was told.
She had decided to go out to the corner, to buy two bananas for her
supper, when the door opened and Angelica came in.
She was just the same--jaunty, swaggering. It might have been one of
those long-past evenings when she came back from work, tired, but
restless and hungry. She had the same shabby suit and ungloved hands.
"Hello, mommer!" she said.
Amazing to see the change in that worn face!
"_Angie!_ For goodness’ sake! I never looked for _you_! Why ever didn’t
you write, deary, so’s I’d have something in for your supper?"
"It don’t matter, mommer. I’ll go out and get something."
"I’ll get my purse----”
"No--I got some money. Listen, mommer, I’m going to stay home with you a
while. Mr. Eddie’s gone to the war and Mrs. Geraldine’s gone away. Now,
for Gawd’s sake, don’t begin to ask a lot of questions! I’m dead tired.
I’ll go out and get something for us to eat, and we’ll go to the movies
after. You put on the water for tea now, while I run to the corner."
But even after the front door had slammed, it was some time before Mrs.
Kennedy got up to put on the kettle.
"What ever is she doing home now, all of a sudden, like this?" she asked
herself. "I don’t see. Oh, I do hope there’s nothing wrong! She’s so
hasty!"
Angelica came in again with a great paper bag.
"I got a regular treat," she said. "Sardines, rolls, cheese, and a nice
big can of cherries!"
"You mustn’t waste your money, deary," said her mother mechanically.
They both set to work to open the tins, brew the tea, and lay out the
supper.
"It does taste good," Mrs. Kennedy admitted. "Somehow, when I’m alone, I
haven’t got the heart to buy things and cook them. It’s nice to see you
again, Angie!"
"I dare say you’ll soon be sick of me," said Angelica. "Now, come along,
mommer, put on your hat and coat!"
They went out together, the tall, swaggering daughter, the small,
decorous mother, along the swarming streets to their favourite
moving-picture "palace." It was exactly the sort of picture Mrs. Kennedy
liked, a "society" one, and in addition her daughter bought her a box of
caramels. In every way a treat, a notable evening!
And yet, all the time, her vague anxiety persisted. She had questions
which she felt she must ask. They went home, and to bed, without her
having summoned courage to put them. Then, at last:
"Angie!" she said softly in the dark. "Angie!"
Not a sound. Angelica must have fallen asleep as soon as her head
touched the pillow.