The problem of Tufik's future was a pressing one. Tish called a meeting
of the three of us next morning, and we met at her house. We found her
reading about Syria in the encyclopædia, while spread round her on
chairs and tables were numbers of silk kimonos, rolls of crocheted lace,
shirt-waist patterns, and embroidered linens.
Hannah let us in. She looked surly and had a bandage round her head, a
sure sign of trouble--Hannah always referring a pain in her temper to
her ear or her head or her teeth. She clutched my arm in the hall and
held me back.
"I'm going to poison him!" she said. "Miss Lizzie, that little snake
goes or I go!"
"I'm ashamed of you, Hannah!" I replied sternly. "If out of the breadth
of her charity Miss Tish wishes to assist a fellow man--"
Hannah reeled back and freed my arm.
"My God!" she whispered. "You too!"
I am very fond of Hannah, who has lived with Tish for many years; but I
had small patience with her that morning.
"I cannot see how it concerns you, anyhow, Hannah," I observed severely.
Hannah put her apron to her eyes and sniffled into it.
"Oh, you can't, can't you!" she wailed. "Don't I give him half his
meals, with him soft-soapin' Miss Tish till she can't see for suds?
Ain't I fallin' over him mornin', noon, and night, and the postman
telling all over the block he's my steady company--that snip that's not
eighteen yet? And don't I do the washin'? And will you look round the
place and count the things I've got to do up every week? And don't he
talk to me in that lingo of his, so I don't know whether he's askin' for
a cup of coffee or insultin' me?"
I patted Hannah on the arm. After all, none of the exaltation of a good
deed upheld Hannah as it sustained us.
"We are going to help him help himself, Hannah," I said kindly. "He
hasn't found himself. Be gentle with him. Remember he comes from the
land of the Bible."
"Humph!" said Hannah, who reads the newspapers. "So does the plague!"
The problem we had set ourselves we worked out that morning. As Tish
said, the boy ought to have light work, for the Syrians are not a
laboring people.
"Their occupation is--er--mainly pastoral," she said, with the authority
of the encyclopædia. "Grazing their herds and gathering figs and olives.
If we knew some one who needed a shepherd--"
Aggie opposed the shepherd idea, however. As she said, and with reason,
the climate is too rigorous. "It's all well enough in Syria," she said,
"where they have no cold weather; but he'd take his death of pneumonia
here."
We put the shepherd idea reluctantly aside. My own notion of finding a
camel for him to look after was negatived by Tish at once, and properly
enough I realized.
"The only camels are in circuses," she said, "and our duty to the boy is
moral as well as physical. Circuses are dens of immorality. Of course
the Syrians are merchants, and we might get him work in a store. But
then again--what chance has he of rising? Once a clerk, always a clerk."
She looked round at the chairs and tables, littered with the contents of
Tufik's pasteboard suitcase, which lay empty at her feet. "And there is
nothing to canvassing from door to door. Look at these exquisite
things!--and he cannot sell them. Nobody buys. He says he never gets
inside a house door. If you had seen his face when I bought a kimono
from him!"
At eleven o'clock, having found nothing in the "Help Wanted" column to
fit Tufik's case, Tish called up Charlie Sands and offered Tufik as a
reporter, provided he was given no nightwork. But Charlie Sands said it
was impossible--that the editors and owners of the paper were always
putting on their sons and relatives, and that when there was a vacancy
the big advertisers got it. Tish insisted--she suggested that Tufik
could run an Arabian column, like the German one, and bring in a lot of
new subscribers. But Charlie Sands stood firm.
At noon Tufik came. We heard a skirmish at the door and Hannah talking
between her teeth.
"She's out," she said.
"Well, I think she is not out," in Tufik's soft tones.
"You'll not get in."
"Ah, but my toes are in. See, my foot wishes to enter!" Then something
soft, coaxing, infinitely wistful, in Arabian followed by a slap. The
next moment Hannah, in tears, rushed back to the kitchen. There was no
sound from the hallway. No smiling Tufik presented himself in the
doorway.
Tish rose in the majesty of wrath. "I could strangle that woman!" she
said, and we followed her into the hall.
Tufik was standing inside the door with his arms folded, staring ahead.
He took no notice of us.
"Tufik!" Aggie cried, running to him. "Did she--did she dare--Tish, look
at his cheek!"
"She is a bad woman!" Tufik said somberly. "I make my little prayer to
see Miss Tish, my mother, and she--I kill her!"
We had a hard time apologizing to him for Hannah. Tish got a basin of
cold water so he might bathe his face; and Aggie brought a tablespoonful
of blackberry cordial, which is soothing. When the poor boy was calmer
we met in Tish's bedroom and Tish was quite firm on one point--Hannah
must leave!
Now, this I must say in my own defense--I was sorry for Tufik; and it is
quite true I bought him a suit and winter flannels and a pair of yellow
shoes--he asked for yellow. He said he was homesick for a bit of
sunshine, and our so somber garb made him heart-sad. But I would never
have dismissed a cook like Hannah for him.
"I shall have to let her go," Tish said. "He is Oriental and passionate.
He has said he will kill her--and he'll do it. They hold life very
lightly."
"Humph!" I said. "Very well, Tish, that holding life lightly isn't a
Christian trait. It's Mohammedan--every Mohammedan wants to die and go
to his heaven, which is a sort of sublimated harem. The boy's probably a
Christian by training, but he's a Mohammedan by blood."
Aggie thought my remark immoral and said so. And just then Hannah solved
her own problem by stalking into the room with her things on and a
suitcase in her hand.
"I'm leaving, Miss Tish!" she said with her eye-rims red. "God knows I
never expected to be put out of this place by a dirty dago! You'll find
your woolen stockings on the stretchers, and you've got an appointment
with the dentist tomorrow morning at ten. And when that little
blackguard has sucked you dry, and you want him killed to get rid of
him, you'll find me at my sister's."
She picked up her suitcase and Tish flung open the door. "You're a
hard-hearted woman, Hannah Mackintyre!" Tish snapped. "Your sister can't
keep you. You'll have to work."
Hannah turned in the doorway and sneered at the three of us.
"Oh, no!" she said. "I'm going to hunt up three soft-headed old maids
and learn to kiss their hands and tell 'em I have nobody but them and
God!"
She slammed out at that, leaving us in a state of natural irritation.
But our rage soon faded. Tufik was not in the parlor; and Tish,
tiptoeing back, reported that he was in the kitchen and was mixing up
something in a bowl.
"He's a dear boy!" she said. "He feels responsible for Hannah's leaving
and he's getting luncheon! Hannah is a wicked and uncharitable woman!"
"Man's inhumanity to man,
Makes countless thousands mourn!"
quoted Aggie softly. From the kitchen came the rhythmic beating of a
wooden spoon against the side of a bowl; a melancholy chant--quite
archaic, as Tish said--kept time with the spoon, and later a smell of
baking flour and the clatter of dishes told us that our meal was
progressing.
"'The Syrians,'" read Tish out of her book, "'are a peaceful and
pastoral people. They have not changed materially in nineteen centuries,
and the traveler in their country finds still the life of Biblical
times.' Something's burning!"
Shortly after, Tufik, beaming with happiness and Hannah clearly
forgotten, summoned us to the dining-room. Tufik was not a cook. We
realized that at once. He had made coffee in the Oriental way--strong
enough to float an egg, very sweet and full of grounds; and after a bite
of the cakes he had made, Tish remembered the dentist the next day and
refused solid food on account of a bad tooth. The cakes were made of
lard and flour, without any baking-powder or flavoring, and the tops
were sprinkled thick with granulated sugar. Little circles of grease
melted out of them on to the plate, and Tufik, wide-eyed with triumph,
sweetly wistful over Tish's tooth, humble and joyous in one minute,
stood by the cake plate and fed them to us!
I caught Aggie's agonized eye, but there was nothing else to do. Were we
not his friends? And had he not made this delicacy for us? On her third
cake, however, Aggie luckily turned blue round the mouth and had to go
and lie down. This broke up the meal and probably saved my life, though
my stomach has never been the same since. Tish says the cakes are
probably all right in the Orient, where it is hot and the grease does
not get a chance to solidify. She thinks that Tufik is probably a good
cook in his own country. But Aggie says that a good many things in the
Bible that she never understood are made plain to her if that is what
they ate in Biblical times--some of the things they saw in visions, and
all that. She dropped asleep on Tish's lounge and distinctly saw Tufik
murdering Hannah by forcing one of his cakes down her throat.
The next month was one of real effort. We had planned to go to Panama,
and had our passage engaged; but when we broke the news to Tufik he
turned quite pale.
"You go--away?" he said wistfully.
"Only for a month," Tish hastened to apologize. "You see, we--we are all
very tired, and the Panama Canal--"
"Canal? I know not a canal."
"It is for ships--"
"You go there in a ship?"
"Yes. A canal is a--"
"You go far--in a ship--and I--I stay here?"
"Only for a month," Aggie broke in. "We will leave you enough money to
live on; and perhaps when we come back you will have found something to
do--"
"For a month," he said brokenly. "I have no friends, no Miss Tish, no
Miss Liz, no Miss Pilk. I die!"
He got up and walked to the window. It was Aggie who realized the awful
truth. The poor lonely boy was weeping--and Charlie Sands may say what
he likes! He was really crying--when he turned, there were large tears
on his cheeks. What made it worse was that he was trying to smile.
"I wish you much happiness on the canal," he said. "I am wicked; but my
sad heart--it ache that my friends leave me. I am sad! If only my
seester--"
* * * * *
That was the first we had known of Tufik's sister, back in Beirut,
wearing a veil over her face and making lace for the bazaars. We were to
know more.
Well, between getting ready to go to Panama and trying to find something
Tufik could do, we were very busy for the next month. Tufik grew
reconciled to our going, but he was never cheerful about it; and finding
that it pained him we never spoke about it in his presence.
He was with us a great deal. In the morning he would go to Tish, who
would give him a list of her friends to see. Then Tish would telephone
and make appointments for him, and he would start off hopefully,
with his pasteboard suitcase. But he never sold anything--except a
shirt-waist pattern to Mrs. Ostermaier, the minister's wife. We took day
about giving him his carfare, but this was pauperizing and we knew it.
Besides, he was very sensitive and insisted on putting down everything
we gave him in a book, to be repaid later when he had made a success.
The allowance idea was mine and it worked well. We figured that,
allowing for his washing,--which was not much, as he seemed to prefer
the celluloid collar,--he could live in a sort of way on nine dollars a
week. We subscribed equally to this; and to save his pride we mailed it
to him weekly by check.
His failure to sell his things hurt him to the soul. More than once we
caught tears in his eyes. And he was not well--he could not walk any
distance at all and he coughed. At last Tish got Charlie Sands to take
him to a lung specialist, a stupid person, who said it was a cigarette
cough. This was absurd, as Tufik did not smoke.
At last the time came for the Panama trip. Tish called me up the day she
packed and asked me to come over.
"I can't. I'm busy, Tish," I said.
She was quite disagreeable. "This is your burden as well as mine," she
snapped. "Come over and talk to that wretched boy while I pack my trunk.
He stands and watches everything I put in, and I haven't been able to
pack a lot of things I need."
I went over that afternoon and found Tufik huddled on the top step of
the stairs outside Tish's apartment, with his head in his hands.
"She has put me out!" he said, looking up at me with tragic eyes. "My
mother has put me out! She does not love Tufik! No one loves Tufik! I am
no good. I am a dirty dago!"
I was really shocked. I rang the bell and Tish let me in. She had had no
maid since Hannah's departure and was taking her meals out. She saw
Tufik and stiffened.
"I thought I sent you away!" she said, glaring at him.
He looked at her pitifully.
"Where must I--go?" he asked, and coughed.
Tish sighed and flung the door wide open. "Bring him in," she said with
resignation, "but for Heaven's sake lock him in a closet until I get my
underwear packed. And if he weeps--slap him."
The poor boy was very repentant, and seeing that his cough worried us he
fought it back bravely. I mixed the white of an egg with lemon juice and
sugar, and gave it to him. He was pathetically grateful and kissed my
hand. At five o'clock we sent him away firmly, having given him
thirty-six dollars. He presented each of us with a roll of crocheted
lace to take with us and turned in the doorway to wave a wistful final
good-bye.
We met at Tish's that night so that we might all go together to the
train. Charlie Sands had agreed to see us off and to keep an eye on
Tufik during our absence. Aggie was in a palpitating travel ecstasy,
clutching a patent seasick remedy and a map of the Canal Zone; Tish was
seeing that the janitor shut off the gas and water in the apartment; and
Charlie Sands was jumping on top of a steamer trunk to close it. The
taxicab was at the door and we had just time to make the night train.
The steamer sailed early the next morning.
"All ready!" cried Charlie Sands, getting the lid down finally. "All off
for the Big Ditch!"
We all heard a noise in the hall--a sort of scuffling, with an
occasional groan. Tish rushed over and threw open the door. On the top
step, huddled and shivering, with streams of water running off his hair
down over his celluloid collar, pouring out of his sleeves and cascading
down the stairs from his trousers legs, was Tufik. The policeman on the
beat was prodding at him with his foot, trying to make him get up. When
he saw us the officer touched his hat.
"Evening, Miss Tish," he said, grinning. "This here boy of yours has
been committing suicide. Just fished him out of the lake in the park!"
"Get up!" snapped Charlie Sands. "You infernal young idiot! Get up and
stop sniveling!"
He stooped and took the poor boy by the collar. His brutality roused us
all out of our stupor. Tish and I rushed forward and commanded him to
stand back; and Aggie, with more presence of mind than we had given her
credit for, brought a glass containing a tablespoonful of blackberry
cordial into which she had poured ten drops of seasickness remedy. Tufik
was white and groaning, but he revived enough to sit up and stare at us
with his sad brown eyes.
"I wish to die!" he said brokenly. "Why you do not let me die? My
friends go on the canal! I am alone! My heart is empty!"
Tish wished to roll him on a barrel, but we had no barrel; so, with
Charlie Sands standing by with his watch in his hand, refusing to assist
and making unkind remarks, we got him to Tish's room and laid out on her
mackintosh on the bed. He did not want to live. We could hardly force
him to drink the hot coffee Tish made for him. He kept muttering things
about his loneliness and being only a dirty dago; and then he turned
bitter and said hard things about this great America, where he could
find no work and must be a burden on his three mothers, and could not
bring his dear sister to be company for him. Aggie quite broke down and
had to lie down on the sofa in the parlor and have a cracker and a cup
of tea.
When Tish and I had succeeded in making Tufik promise to live, and had
given him one of his own silk kimonos to put on until his clothing could
be dried--Charlie Sands having disagreeably refused to lend his
overcoat--and when we had given the officer five dollars not to arrest
the boy for attempting suicide, we met in the parlor to talk things
over.
Charlie Sands was sitting by the lamp in his overcoat. He had put our
railway and steamer tickets on the table, and was holding his cigarette
so that Aggie could inhale the fumes, she having hay fever and her
cubebs being on their way to Panama.
"I suppose you know," he said nastily, "that your train has gone and
that you cannot get the boat tomorrow?"
Tish was in an exalted mood--and she took off her things and flung them
on a chair.
"What is Panama," she demanded, "to saving a life? Charlie, we must plan
something for this boy. If you will take off your overcoat--"
"And see you put it on that little parasite? Not if I melt! Do you know
how deep the lake is? Three feet!"
"One can drown in three feet of water," said Aggie sadly, "if one is
very tired of life. People drown themselves in bathtubs."
Tish's furious retort to this was lost, Tufik choosing that moment to
appear in the doorway. He wore a purple-and-gold kimono that had given
Tish bronchitis early in the winter, and he had twisted a bath towel
round the waist. He looked very young, very sad, very Oriental. He
ignored Charlie Sands, but made at once for Tish and dropped on one knee
beside her.
"Miss Tish!" he begged. "Forgive, Miss Tish! Tufik is wicked. He has the
bad heart. He has spoil the going on the canal. No?"
"Get up!" said Tish. "Don't be a silly child. Go and take your shoes out
of the oven. We are not going to Panama. When you are better, I am going
to give you a good scolding."
Charlie Sands put the cigarette on a book under Aggie's nose and stood
up.
"I guess I'll go," he said. "My nerves are not what they used to be and
my disposition feels the change."
Tufik had risen and the two looked at each other. I could not quite make
out Tufik's expression; had I not known his gentleness I would have
thought his expression a mixture of triumph and disdain.
"'The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold, and his cohorts were
gleaming in purple and gold!'" said Charlie Sands, and went out,
slamming the door.