CORRESPONDENCE FROM HEAVEN
It never rains but it pours. Here I had worried through seventeen years
without any answers at all to my prayers and now in a few short months
there were more answers than there were prayers—I mean, it was just
like having your mail lost somewhere and then getting it all in a bunch.
It seemed to me that the Lord must have just returned from a holiday
playing golf with the planets and found all my pleas and prayers
awaiting his attention, so he set about clearing his desk immediately
and thoroughly. Things came so thick that the year 1917 remains in my
mind a jumbled nightmare.
Not that everything happened as quickly at all that: the sequence was
spread over several months but I had become so accustomed to monotony
and so resigned to my fate, that so many things in even so many months
was a terrific shock to my nervous system.
The first thing that happened was not strictly my own private affair.
The United States went to war when Germany added insult to injury. I was
overjoyed, because it seemed to me that surely here was an opportunity
for excitement and adventure.... And again I was disappointed. Girls of
eighteen are good for only one thing in a war, and you don’t get medals
and service stripes for that kind of duty!
Jay-Jay went to work for his father, hoping to get out of going, and
then when he saw he would be caught in the draft he managed to secure a
soft job supervising the entertainment provisions of the eastern
training camps. My hero! A man’s man!
Then I went on the stage, because Jay-Jay offered to get me a place in a
new show that was being thrown together up in Connecticut, and because I
suspected that he was entertaining the hope that the atmosphere of the
show business would help to break down my Puritanical resistance to his
Satanic charms. I had to dance almost naked to get the job, but I made a
bull’s-eye from the start. The only trouble was that I had to keep
thinking that Jay-Jay had practically dared me to join this show and I
was so afraid I’d be contaminated by the traditional immorality of show
people that I scarcely drew a normal breath while the show lasted. And
every time I saw Jay-Jay the old battle was revived. He said he’d do
anything to get me—and I believed him implicitly. I wouldn’t have put
anything beyond him. He’d try any possible way of skinning the cat, and
my part in Love Lights was just another possibility. He was very
circumspect in his love-making at the time, probably trying to induce a
calm to precede the storm: as he said, “My love for you is so intensely
hot that even an iceberg would melt sooner or later!”
Love Lights lasted three months, but I was ready to quit long before
that. I had proved that I could stand the gaff and Jay-Jay had given up
hopes of skinning the cat by that method. Now he wanted to marry me!
Said he’d even marry me if that was the only way he could get me! Can
you imagine such a proposal?
But I couldn’t be bothered with it then, so he broached the subject to
Aunt Elinor and I found her putting bugs in my ears every time I got
near her. However, I stalled for time. I was in no mood to make any
entangling alliances.
Also there was something far more important to think about. A miracle
was happening before my very eyes! Vyvy contracted a severe case of
heroitis and fell in love with the color of khaki, with the logical
result that Leon was miserable. He actually lost weight trying to figure
out some way of satisfying her demands that he make a hero of himself.
The poor fellow hated the thought of war and fighting, loathed the idea
of being thrown in with an uncouth gang of comparatively indelicate men,
but he couldn’t stand the sight of Vyvy going out with men in uniform
and he suspected that a man with a Sam Browne belt could do most
anything with her. He talked with her, remonstrated and pleaded, called
her hysterical and a lot of worse things—but Vyvy was adamant. “I won’t
have a man I can’t be proud of!” she told him, at the height of their
last argument on the subject.
Something had to give. It was a real crisis to them. And the next thing
I knew Leon was making inquiries at recruiting stations as to the
various branches of the service in which he could enlist. It was all
very painful for him, but he was between the frying pan and a very hot
fire; he had to make a decision of some kind—and he did, although I
suspect that somebody dragged him in for examination and made him sign a
paper before he realized what he was doing. Anyway, he enlisted—which
proves something or other about girls like Vyvy. He came home actually
proud of himself over the fact that he had passed the initial physical
examination, but I noticed that he didn’t eat much for dinner that
evening. And Vyvy very promptly indicated that she would throw over all
her soldier friends, now that he had done the trick like a hero. She was
not dizzy, after all; she knew that jealousy is a woman’s best weapon.
But poor Leon! He was suffering the torments of hell just thinking about
being a soldier. I wished we could exchange places. I knew I would love
it all—the coarseness, the roughness, the absolute hellishness of being
a soldier appealed to me.... Instead of such a prospect, what I got was
another, more importunate proposal of marriage from my hound. I thought
this life was certainly a mixture of sweets and bitters, but I guess I
was happy enough over the streak of manhood showing in my previously
impossible twin.
I was so happy, indeed, that I agreed to dance for “the nice people”
whom Aunt Elinor invited for a farewell party to Leon. She was all upset
over her favorite relative’s impending departure for the War and she
wanted to send him away in an unforgettable blaze of glory, so she
planned this lavish entertainment at the house the night before he was
to leave. And to make certain that people would remember the occasion
she conceived the idea of my dancing in the nude behind a shadow screen
to the accompaniment of Leon’s readings from his own verses.... It is
apparent that I must have been happy over his enlistment to agree to any
such thing: not the nudity but the poetic accompaniment—that, I knew,
would be terrible!
And it was—so terrible that in the very midst of it poor Esky exploded
in a howl that made everyone jump and almost disrupted the performance;
and someone laughed rather equinely, which was still worse from my point
of view. But we finally got through with it and I rushed into the house
to dress and later to accept the usual bread-and-butter compliments from
the assembled guests. There was nothing to do but dance the evening away
and I proceeded to do this with whoever came my way, which was chiefly
Jay-Jay, until Aunt Elinor sneaked up behind me and said she had a young
man in tow who wanted to apologize to me. From that point on, life
became steadily more interesting and Jay-Jay didn’t get all the dances,
for the young man was the handsomest thing I had ever seen and his broad
grin was just broad enough and yet refined enough to be infectious. My
whole body underwent a quiver of excitement as soon as my eyes rested
upon him. I smiled inside as well as out and was unconscious of
everything except a mumbling from my aunt to the effect that “Captain
Winstead has had me pursuing you for ages....”
He didn’t say anything and I couldn’t, so we just danced away and I felt
as if I belonged nowhere else in the world so surely as there in his
arms. That dance was unforgettable, a marvelous experience which thrills
me even to this day. I was actually serenely blissfully ignorant of time
and surroundings. I know such a statement sounds foolish and affected,
but I certainly should know how I felt. Heaven knows, I never have felt
like that more than once, so I surely should remember it.
We even danced two numbers in silence before the spell was broken by his
making a belated apology for laughing so rudely during my dance. And he
ended it by saying, “Of course, it was utterly damn foolish on my part!”
The way he said “damn” was to other men’s damns as a soothing melody is
to a baby squawker’s music. From that point on, we were acquainted; it
was just as if we had known each other for ages; he said that my dancing
was just like a dream, that ... oh, I couldn’t begin to reproduce that
evening in print: he was just wonderful and he told me the most
enchanting things ... we went into the garden and I learned for the
first time how short a time it requires to become intimately acquainted
with a man, if you like him.... I never was the kind to believe in this
love-at-first-sight stuff, but I know that I felt at once that Captain
Clark Winstead meant all the world to me—and this in spite of the fact
that I hadn’t completely lost my head; I had a sneaking suspicion that
he might not mean all the wonderful things he said to me.... Yet even
with such suspicions, I simply reveled in his presence. Say what you
will about being made love to—it certainly is an indescribably
delicious experience if you have the right man, and I did.
But, of course, there had to be a joker, and it finally appeared when he
began to tell me how sorry he was that we had not met sooner, “For I’m
leaving for Washington in the morning and probably will be sent to
England immediately.”
Well, the best we could do was exchange addresses and since he didn’t
know where he would be, he wrote mine on a scrap of paper and stuck it
in his tunic, saying that I could write to him after I heard from him.
Then he kissed my hands and naturally he didn’t have to use force to get
me into his arms.... In fact, I was clinging to him fearfully when
everything went smash with the sudden appearance of Jay-Jay, looking
daggers and so mad that all he could do was stutter.
I remembered then that I had told Jay-Jay we’d dance together again
before the finale, so I escaped from the very embarrassing situation by
squeezing the Captain’s arm significantly and joining my pursuer, but
not before the Captain said, “I hope we can have another before I go.”
Jay-Jay danced as if this were a painful duty that had to be performed.
I mean, he danced ferociously and in a silence which was broken only by
a grunt now and then. Oh, but he was mad! And the madder he seemed, the
better I felt, because this was really the first time I had ever seen
him at all off guard or off poise and it does give a girl a thrill of
satisfaction to see a proud and self-assured man take a tumble into
jealousy.
When he finally did speak, he said the obvious things about cheating and
not playing fair and ended with a sarcastic, “You know how I’ve wanted
you, and all the time you’ve tried to make me believe that you loathed
having a man touch you, not to mention kissing and caressing you. And
now——”
“And now is there any law against a woman changing her mind?” I
demanded.
“But why treat me as if I were black, if you’ve changed your mind about
such things? That’s what I mean! Am I black?”
Well, since he had come down to earth, I relented and told him, “No, I
guess your ancestors were Caucasians. In fact, I was almost ready to
accept your proposal, but——”
“But this fly-by-night interloper comes along and you act like a grammar
school kid over him!” he exclaimed in disgust.
The argument continued through another dance and I gathered from his
remarks that he wanted me to consider his proposal as still intended. He
was, I think, really baffled: the incident had hurt his pride so that
now he was more determined than ever to win me at all costs. And so it
was that when Captain Winstead appeared to claim a last dance before he
left, Jay-Jay didn’t confine his voice to a polite whisper when he
observed, “Thank God, he’s going!”
The Captain and I said nothing at all while we danced. It was so divine
that words would merely have bothered and when it had ended we both
breathed a deep sigh of regret and somehow or other found ourselves on
the veranda. His friends were already in their car waiting for him, but
he didn’t hurry. We stood there, my hand in his; his other arm went
around my shoulders, and I tried to put into that last kiss all the
tremulous fearful affection, all the sickening despair and exalting
hope, all the really heart-breaking infatuation that was at once
smothering and exhilarating me. No other kiss could ever be like that. I
knew it and I think he did, because he didn’t linger for another—just
mumbled some sweet nothing and was gone.
Jay-Jay found me there staring out across the moonlit drive, feeling all
weak and sad and utterly miserable, trying to convince myself that this
knight of the night had really meant everything he said and that I
honestly did mean something more than a passing fancy to him. I couldn’t
banish the thought that perhaps I was just a foolish school kid, had
been just another night and another girl in the Captain’s crowded life.
It was such a feeling that makes anyone feel sad and understanding: when
you know you love someone and can’t tell whether your love is returned
or merely accepted—why, it’s a terrible feeling. It made me understand
how Jay-Jay must have felt all along, and I honestly tried to be nice to
him the rest of the evening.
Jay-Jay blustered and fussed at first, then indulged in sarcastic
remarks about the other man and prophesied that I would never hear from
him again. Then when he saw that I wouldn’t argue with him about
anything at all, he quieted down and returned to the attack with his
eternal proposals.
The fact was that I didn’t pay any attention to his arguments; I
couldn’t even spare the time to think up answers to them: all I could
think of was the Captain. I knew I should never experience such a
feeling again if I lived to be a thousand: there isn’t room in one
lifetime to feel like that twice. And I kept telling myself that no man
could have a woman thinking of him and dreaming of him every minute
without trying to do something about it—or if he would, he’d be an
awful fool. And I was sure that I had communicated to him some idea of
how he affected me—or again he’d be a fool. And I knew he wasn’t that.
However, the days passed and I heard just nothing at all from him.
Jay-Jay had a few more days of leave and he hung around like a carrion
crow with an I-told-you-so look in his eyes every time we met. And the
night before he left to return to Washington, he popped a novel proposal
that I could have an interesting job entertaining in the camps, if I
would marry him. “I’ll do anything for you,” he declared, “provided I
know you belong to me.”
“But why not get me that job anyway?” I asked.
He just laughed at that suggestion. “Do you think I’d be instrumental in
turning you loose like that?” he demanded. “Not unless you were
mine—then I’d know you’d behave!”
Just like that! Well, you had to admit that Mr. Marfield was persistent
and persevering and I had to take his proposal seriously, because I
hadn’t heard from the Captain, and that hurt tremendously, and after all
it occurred to me that I really might be quite happy as Mrs. Marfield,
even though I knew I could never love him as storybook heroines are
supposed to love their husbands. I guess my Aunt’s continental ideas had
begun to sink into my mind, for I was beginning to admit to myself that
marriages are seldom one long-drawn-out love affair and that I was
probably childishly optimistic when I thought that mine would be one of
the exceptional cases.
I told him I would think it over, and for the next few weeks I did
little else but that. All I did was think—about these two men: the one
who wanted me and the one I wanted, and whom I hadn’t seen or heard from
since the night we met. There didn’t seem to be any excuse for his
silence and yet I kept thinking up reasons for it and hoping against
hope that each next mail would bring at least a post card.
That’s what love does to you: makes you go crazy with hopes and wants
and at the same time makes you capable of callously letting another go
crazy wanting you. The whole triangular affair had me dizzy and I
couldn’t sleep nights for thinking about it.
So that’s what I mean when I say that it never rains but it pours, even
in the matter of having prayers answered. I prayed that the Lord would
do something to change conditions and what did he do but bring in a man
who made me change into a thoroughly girlish girl in one short evening!
My prayers were answered, even in the matter of making Leon more of a
man—but here I was more miserable than ever and I didn’t know whether
to thank the Almighty or send up another complaint.