Sheba, page 5
He came around the car and got in the other side. She fumbled with the key, trying to find the ignition, and he helped her with it.
“They stung me,” she agreed.
It was a different feeling, a crazy feeling, but it was a good feeling, too. It swelled up within her, and there wasn’t a problem in the world that mattered, not a thing. The world was her doorstep and the flight of stairs that led upward would be easy to climb.
“Baby!”
He had her before she knew it, had her in his arms, his lips on her mouth, seeking, wanting, pleading with her. He kept kissing her and saying that this was love, saying that this was what he wanted, what they both wanted.
“No!”
But she was unable to stop him, unable to fight back. Her mind told her that she should not, that she must not, but her mouth would not be controlled by the caution screaming in her brain. Her mouth was open, hot and wild, and she buried her lips against him.
“Don’t!”
It was too late, too late, and the fire swept through her, a blazing inferno that made her tremble and cry and beg him not to wait.
“Please,” she whispered.
“Say it again.”
“Please!”
After that she knew what it was to be a woman, to live through the tender violence of life’s most fierce and panting moment.
5
THE next morning when she awoke she knew it was late. The sun which streamed in through the window almost blinded her and as she opened her mouth to yawn, her head began to ache.
She wasn’t the same, she thought; not nearly the same. She would never be the same after the night before. She had let him do to her what no other man had ever done and the thought sickened her.
She sat up, blinking against the brightness of the sun, and rubbed the back of her neck. Golly, but her head hurt, all the way forward from her neck to her eyes.
She looked down at the floor. Her dress was rumpled, lying in a heap. She couldn’t remember having gotten out of the dress but she did remember that someone had talked to her when she had entered the house. Who had it been? She didn’t know, couldn’t think.
Still rubbing the back of her neck she threw the sheet aside and got out of bed. The mirror over the dresser was directly in front of her and she saw that she was wearing her bra but nothing else. Miserably, hating herself, she glanced around the room for her panties, but they were nowhere in sight. Sighing she crossed to the dresser and found another pair in the top drawer and stepped into them. At that moment, memory of the night before rushed through her mind.
He had conquered her savagely and wonderfully and she hadn’t tried to stop him. The liquor had been in her blood and the need had been there, too — a terrible need that had made her respond to his demands with all of the fury she had ever read or heard about. She had given herself to him and she had begged him to hurt her, to take her, to own her. Now that she was sober, now that it was morning, she remembered the pain, the mounting pain that had filled her with beauty, and she remembered the search of his hands, the crushing power of his mouth upon her greedy lips. She remembered all of these things and she felt cold all over. What if he hadn’t been careful? What if he had fathered a child? What if he had planted the seed of life within her?
She wanted to scream, to cry, to curse. She had been a fool, and now the fear would make her pay. She would pay and pay, her whole being tortured by the memory of what she had done.
Let me die, she thought crying; oh, let me die.
A half an hour later, her tears gone, she found her robe, put it on and entered the hall. Mrs. Grimes was just coming out of the next room.
“Good morning,” Sheba said.
Mrs. Grimes stared at her for a moment.
“What time are you supposed to be to work?”
“Eight.”
“Well, it’s past ten.”
“It is that late?”
“Yes, it is that late.”
She started around Mrs. Grimes but Mrs. Grimes stood in her way.
“You had better find another room,” Mrs. Grimes said.
“Another room?”
Mrs. Grimes nodded. “You were drunk last night, Miss Irons. I had to help you up the stairs.”
“Oh!”
“I won’t stand for such a thing in my house. I don’t believe in drink and I don’t believe in other people drinking.”
Sheba felt her face flame.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You should be ashamed. Fred was here three times last night looking for you. Fred is a good boy and he doesn’t touch a drop of the stuff. I would think you would try to take after him rather than some of the other people you know.”
“May I go to the bathroom?”
“You may go to the bathroom and you may pack. This morning. If you don’t have the money you owe me you can drop it off or you can forget about it. I feel that I am doing my duty to my other roomers by asking you to leave.”
Sheba was hurt by what Mrs. Grimes said but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She had been high the night before and perhaps Mrs. Grimes had helped her up the stairs.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“I am, too. For Fred. He thinks a lot of you.”
When she returned to her room it took her only a few minutes to dress and pack her things. She didn’t see Mrs. Grimes again as she descended the stairs and left the house.
Fred was waiting for her on the porch.
“My aunt told me,” he said. “Why did you do it?”
She didn’t want to talk to him, didn’t want to face him.
“I don’t know,” she said, walking toward the car parked some distance from the curb.
“You got a ticket,” he told her.
There was a pink slip beneath the left windshield wiper.
“What’s that for?” she wanted to know.
“You can’t park all night on the street, that’s what it’s for. You could have put it in the driveway.”
“I forgot.”
“Or you were too drunk.”
She halted, wheeled and faced him.
“Say, what is this?” she demanded. “First it’s your aunt and now it’s you. Can’t either one of you leave me alone?”
“You never did such a thing before.”
“Maybe not.”
“And you had a date with me. You broke it.”
“All right, so I broke it.”
“But why?”
“I was busy.”
Silently he walked to the car and opened the door.
“You were busy,” he said without any trace of a smile. “You were so busy that you got drunk.”
“Leave me alone,” she managed to say.
“Why should I? Why should I leave you alone? I’ve been going with you — how long now?”
“A few months.”
“It seems longer than that.”
“It isn’t.”
“I always tried to be nice to you, decent to you.”
“Except when you parked.”
“What’s wrong with that?” His tone was hurt, confused. “I loved you, Sheba, loved you a lot. Why wouldn’t I want you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said.
“Maybe you don’t, but you’re going to. I have some rights.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You haven’t any rights at all.”
“Why haven’t I?”
She slammed the door shut and leaned up against the car. Her head had stopped aching but her throat was dry and thick.
“Big deal,” she said. “You take me to the movies, buy me a coke afterward and try to paw me. That gives you rights? Don’t make me laugh.”
“I got your brother a job.”
“Doing what?”
“Working with us on the trees.”
“He won’t stick.”
“He worked yesterday and he did all right. Somebody in your family has to help your mother.”
“My family doesn’t enter into this.”
“It does with me. I wouldn’t have helped Luke a penny’s worth if it hadn’t been for you. And what do I get out of it? I get stood up and find out you’re drunk and I know damned well that some guy made time with you.”
She laughed at him.
“Jealous?”
“Plenty.”
“Don’t be,” she said going around the car. “Don’t be jealous of me, Fred. What you want isn’t for us.”
He was still standing there as she drove away. She disliked him for being such a child but she disliked herself even more. At the corner of Fourth and Main she stopped the car, got out and removed the ticket from beneath the windshield wiper. So it would cost her two dollars for parking in the wrong place. So what? So Mrs. Grimes didn’t want her in her house. So what again? She had the two dollars and there were plenty of other places where she could stay in Mayville, places that weren’t so strict and where she could lead her own life.
Mr. Wise hadn’t yet reached the office when she arrived and she was glad of that. Gregg hadn’t shown up either and she was glad of that, too. She didn’t know just how she would act when she saw Gregg again. The guilt of what she had done was deep within her and she wondered if he would make light of it. She wouldn’t be able to stand it if he did.
A few minutes before twelve Mr. Wise arrived and said he was going to Rotary.
“Where’s Gregg?” he asked.
“‘I don’t know,” Sheba said.
“Out ringing doorbells, no doubt.”
“Probably.”
“Or goofing off.”
At noon the fire whistle blew and Nora and Kathy departed for the near-by diner. Sheba didn’t go because she wasn’t hungry and she expected Mike Gordon. Just before one he came into the showroom.
“I made a deal,” he told her. “Mr. Loven will have the money in the morning and I’ll be able to pick up the car in the afternoon.”
“Fine.”
She took him into the office and completed the necessary papers. While she was doing this she was aware of his stare traveling over her body.
“You’re quite a salesman,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“And a pretty one.”
“Thank you again.”
“Are you married? You don’t wear a ring.”
“No, I’m not married.”
He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
“Would you have dinner with me some night?”
“You’re married,” she reminded him.
“Does that have to stop us?”
“It stops me.”
He signed the papers and asked her again before he left. He was like all men, she thought. He suggested dinner but it wouldn’t stop with dinner. There would be drinks and then there would be the darkness of the night and his hands would seek to possess her.
“I could put you next to a good deal,” he said.
“Could you?”
“My brother-in-law owns five cabs and he’s thinking of replacing all of them. This Pacer would be just right for him — big enough to be roomy and cheap enough to operate.”
“Who is he?”
Mike Gordon grinned.
“Dinner is the price,” he said. “Dinner with me and you get to meet him.”
She thought of selling five cars and the possibility of making so much money at one shot was staggering.
“What if your wife found out?”
“She won’t find out. We’ll go out of town.”
“Where?”
“A little place I know near Downing. The food is good and they have a floor show. You’d like it.”
“Well — ”
“You can’t sell five cars more easily.”
“I suppose not.”
“What do you say?”
“I don’t think I should.”
“It’s up to you.”
She didn’t know what to do. Perhaps there was nothing wrong with it, except that he was married. They could have dinner and she didn’t have to drink anything. If he got fresh she could always fight him off. And selling five cars would look good for Mr. Wise.
“I — all right,” she agreed. “But not tonight.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night.”
He lit a cigarette and watched her through the smoke.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
“Maybe some of my friends will be interested in your cars when they see mine.”
“Maybe.”
Mike Gordon left and not long after he had gone Gregg came in.
“Hi, baby.”
“Hello, Gregg.”
She thought she would feel uncomfortable with him but to her surprise she felt completely at ease.
“Can I talk with you?”
“Of course.”
“Let’s go for coffee.”
“The girls aren’t back yet.”
“Wise must be at Rotary.”
“He is.”
“What did he say about me?”
“He said you must be out pounding on doors.”
“Not me. I was pounding my ear.” He stretched. “Wow, what a night!”
Sheba remained silent.
“You sore at me?” he wanted to know.
“Not now. I was at first but I’ve gotten over it.”
“Good girl.”
“But I wasn’t a good girl.”
His face sobered. “And I wasn’t a very good guy. I didn’t know. I thought — ”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said.
“Hey, you’re great.”
“Mike Gordon was in,” she said, to change the subject.
“Was he?”
“I sold him a car.”
“How much did you allow him on his wreck?”
“Two-fifty.”
“That’s good. You could have gone to three hundred and the old man would have been happy.”
“Why go that high when I didn’t have to?”
“No reason. Where did he get the money?”
“From the finance company.”
“The same pitch as the Dixon thing?”
“The same.”
“Old Reliable?”
“Old Reliable.”
Greg frowned. “It’s none of my business, baby, but if you’ve got a tie-in down there you’d best break loose from it.”
“I just happen to know Mr. Loven.”
“And you’re not getting any money?”
She made no reply.
“If you’re getting money,” Gregg said, “you’d better watch yourself. This comes out of the customer and if the old man found out about it he would be sore. The rates Old Reliable charges are bad enough, let alone adding more to it.”
She made up her mind that she would refuse to take the money from Mr. Loven. She had done well on her first two sales and if she made a few more she would be able to get clear of him. Gregg was right — it wasn’t proper for her to take money that belonged to somebody else.
“I’m not taking any money,” she said and meant it.
“Well, don’t.”
“Just selling the cars is enough to satisfy me.”
“It should be.”
Nora and Kathy came back just ahead of Mr. Wise. A few minutes later he sent for Sheba.
“Close the door, will you?” he said as she entered his private office.
She closed the door.
“I see you made another sale.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Very good. Very good, indeed. You keep that up and you’ll work yourself right out of the office.”
That was what she wanted. There wasn’t any money, not real money, working in the office. If she was on the selling end she could help her mother and get all of the things that she wanted to get. Sixty dollars a week wasn’t anything. Sixty dollars a week was peanuts when there were seven days in the week.
“Sit down,” Mr. Wise said.
She sat down.
“You’ve got pretty legs,” Mr. Wise said. “Have I?”
“And a pretty body. You keep to the tight dresses and the male customers will fall all over you.”
“I hope they do. I need the money.”
“Who doesn’t? Money makes this old world spin.”
“I guess it does.”
Mr. Wise leaned forward across the desk and stared straight into her eyes.
“Do you like it here, Sheba?”
“Very much.”
“And you’ve got an opportunity?”
“I’ve got an opportunity.”
“It can be more than that,” Mr. Wise said. “It can be the start of a whole new life for you. You apply yourself and there is no limit to what you can do.”
“I’ll work hard,” she promised.
“I know you will but it isn’t just work that does the trick. Sometimes you have to swap to get what you want.”
“I don’t follow you.”
“Don’t you?” he asked quietly.
“No, sir.”
“You can call me Sheldon when we’re alone.”
“I’d feel funny doing that.”
“Why? Because I’m old enough to be your father?”
“Maybe.”
He smiled. “Don’t let the years fool you, Sheba. I’m younger than most men at thirty.”
“You don’t look old.”
“Sheldon.”
“You don’t look old, Sheldon.”
“That’s better. You’re Sheba and I’m Sheldon. S and S. Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”
He wanted to be pampered and babied.
“Okay,” she said.
“I’ve watched you since you’ve been here,” he said. “I’ve watched you a lot.”
She knew that he had, especially when she had to bend low over the files or when she was sitting down and her body was tilted forward. He had twenty-year-old eyes in a fifty-year-old head.
“I’ve tried to do my best.”
“And you have. What other office girl would have shown the interest in this business that you’ve shown? Most of them wouldn’t care if I never sold a car. All they wait for is payday and the clock to reach four-thirty.”
It was true, of course, but what did he expect for what he paid? A dollar and a quarter an hour bought just so much work and nothing more.
“I think you’ll do all right selling.” he said. “In fact, I think you’ll do fine. If I’m any judge at all you’ll be way ahead of Gregg by the end of the month.”
