DARK DESPAIR
It was a six mile drive to the station. Cleaving to the lip of the
precipice, the road wound into the cup of the valley, where toy-like
houses gleamed white from out checkered fields, and the serpentine river
writhed sinuously.
Heedless of stones and ruts, Claire's taxi swayed recklessly onward.
Wan, drawn, she huddled in the back seat, clinging mechanically whenever
a bump threatened to precipitate her into the ravine below. Clinging
mechanically and instinctively only, for lurking destruction held no
terror now. Indeed, had she been conscious of the dangerous opportunity,
she would probably have permitted herself to be flung to death several
hundred feet below.
But she was as impervious to her peril as to the beauty about her. And
every turn of the road revealed the valley in a new vista. Unseen hills
and forests emerged magically, casting gorgeous patches of purple shadow
before them. Incense of balsam and fir rose to the heavens in heady
draughts like distilled sunshine. But Claire, swathed in her garment of
misery, saw, felt nothing.
With Alexis lost to her forever, life offered a terrifying nothingness.
She realized perhaps for the first time what he had meant to her ever
since she could remember. Without him, existence would be a nightmare of
emptiness, and yet with every revolution of the wheels she was leaving
him further and further behind, progressing into the wintry region of
exile where lay her bleak future. And her days and years had been so
filled with his presence that it was almost impossible for her to
believe that this could be so. It was as if some vital organ had been
torn out of her living body and she was expected to go on without it. It
was humanly impossible! In another moment she must speak to the driver,
tell him to turn back up the mountain before it was too late. Back to
Alexis and the beautiful, hateful woman, whom he had grown to love--this
superior goddess, this Brunhilde of burnished tresses, who would have it
all her own way on her mountain top, above the clouds, while she herself
rode down into the dark valley.
But she could not bring herself to utter the necessary word. And she
knew that it would never be spoken, trifle as she might with the
illusion. The unalterable had occurred. She would make no further effort
to mend the shattered pieces.
But how to face the lacerated future? To resume a negative existence
with a contemptuous aunt who had never loved her and whom she had
failed, would be beyond bearing. To accept her charity and Alexis' had
not been difficult before because she had made herself indispensable,
and she knew that she had more than earned her keep. Besides, she had
been Alexis' only companion in his leisure moments and he had depended
upon her more than anyone realized. But everything was changed. To
continue to eat his bread and salt would be unspeakable now that he
loved another woman. She had not only failed miserably as a wife, but he
loved another woman.
Looking blindly into the forest on either side, Claire repeated the
words to herself below her breath. "He loves another woman." They dinned
into her soul with a persistency that maddened, with the relentless
monotony of the drop of water which tortures the Chinese criminal. She
crouched further back into the seat and covered her ears. If the
repetition continued much longer, she would surely go mad, if she had
not done so already. The wheels took up the rhythm and creaked it
mockingly. As they rattled over the wooden bridge and entered the
village it rose to a hoarse shout. Then with a jerk, stopped as suddenly
and ominously as it had commenced.
Claire looked up startled, and saw they were at the station. The New
York train was already there, snorting impatiently. She came to her
senses with a bound, paid her driver, got aboard the Pullman and in less
than a minute was leaving the country station and Alexis, as she told
herself, forever.
Numbed by fatigue and suffering, the trip soon became a nightmare of
swift darkness. Heavy stupor descended upon her. It was not until hours
later, when skirting along the shores of the Hudson, that she emerged to
full consciousness. Night had already fallen and the river heaved black
and silver, like a huge snake beneath the pale light of the stars. They
were stopping at a station near the water's edge, and as Claire peered
out of the window, there came to her a violent temptation to run down
the corridor and leap out into the inky, rippleless, depths. Why not? It
would be the best thing that could happen for everybody as well as for
herself.
Life was hateful, bitter, terrifying. Here was, if not rest and peace,
at least cessation of agony. Her aunt would hardly feel the difference
and as for Alexis? He would be free to marry again, and this time not
blunderingly, like a dazed unhappy child, but with his senses awakened,
and for love. A lump stabbed her in the throat like a dagger-thrust. She
staggered to her feet and started to lurch out into the aisle. There
came a sudden roaring as of a high wind and darkness fell upon her.
When consciousness returned, the train was entering the Grand Central
station. Life still clung heavily upon her weary soul, but she was too
torn, too utterly distraught to think of any new means of
self-destruction. She took a taxi to the apartment in 59th Street and
with the connivance of Ito gained her room without her aunt's knowledge.
Welcomed rapturously by the disconsolate Bébé, she fell upon the bed
fully clothed, and into the deep, dreamless, sleep of utter exhaustion.
* * * * *
She awakened towards morning, shocked into consciousness by the upward
surge of a hitherto suppressed and unbelievable fear. Could it be
possible that the uneasy suspicion which had vaguely disturbed her for
weeks, and which she had entirely forgotten in the last twenty-four
hours, was to be realized after all? That would indeed be the climax of
irony. But it seemed to be the only explanation of the physical state
through which she was struggling. Nerves and anxiety might account for
general malaise and headaches. Fatigue and an empty stomach for the
faint on the train, but that was not the first time she had lost
consciousness in the last three months, and she had other reasons
besides to fear the worst. The worst! To think that it should have to be
called that, when it should have proved so beautiful. To be the mother
of Alexis' child, and to have to look forward to the fact with shrinking
and with shame. What could be more bitterly ridiculous than that? And
what would become of the baby if it lived? Unwanted, unloved, it would
probably lead the same negative existence as she herself with all its
joy dependent upon one being, who would undoubtedly betray it in the
end. The thought brought scalding tears. Claire beat her pillow with
tiny fists. It was too much! She refused to give birth to such ignominy.
With a bound, she sprang from the bed and ran across the room to the
open window. Crouching upon the window seat, she gazed down, wide-eyed
and trembling, to where, eleven stories below yawned the cavernous
street. Her stomach turned at the sight. But creeping flesh commanded by
indomitable spirit, she stumbled to her feet and stood upon the sill.
However, as soon as she did so, she realized her mistake. To jump out,
she would have to bend over almost double, as the opening was not
sufficiently high. It would be necessary to sit and dangle her feet into
the chasm. Somehow, the idea seemed terrifying. Once more mastering her
shrinking body, she crumpled down upon the sill and thrust one foot and
leg through the aperture. With a long shudder she closed her eyes and
cautiously lowered the other leg.
For an endless moment she sat suspended between heaven and earth.
There came a feeble tug at her skirt from behind, a plaintive cry. And
Claire's swooning senses were aware of interruption. With a flash of
lucidity she realized that Bébé had awakened and was trying in dumb
fashion to attract her attention. A new fear seized her. Suppose the
little dog were to see her fall and jump out after her? She leaned back
into the room perilously, and tried to push him from her. But as if he
realized her purpose, he only whined more loudly and crawling up her
skirts, crept around into her lap. Claire found herself gazing into the
eyes of the only being who had ever loved her. Horror in her heart, she
clutched the little creature to her breast. For a nightmare moment, they
rocked on the rim of annihilation. Then with a groan of relinquishment,
she fell back into the room.
As soon as her trembling limbs would permit, she crawled back on to the
bed and lay sleepless until morning.
But the sun, although brilliant and mocking, brought counsel.
She arose and tidied herself. It was not a long process, as she had gone
to bed fully dressed. Ringing for Ito, she ordered coffee and a taxi.
Then in the face of his obvious disapproval, she gulped down a few
swallows, ate a roll, and patting Bébé lingeringly, left the apartment.