“Yes of course. What’s she done?” Aurora said. The General was beside her, and she began nudging him to wake up.
“It ain’t her, it’s her husband,” the officer said. “It ain’t delicate, ma’am, it ain’t delicate.”
“It isn’t delicate for you to keep me in suspense at three in the morning either,” Aurora said. “Just tell me.”
“Well, he was stabbed, ma’am,” the officer said. “I just about upchuck every time I think about it. It was a case of jealousy, we believe.”
“I see,” Aurora said. “I’ll contact Mrs. Dunlup at once. She’s not in town, but I’ll get her here as soon as I can.”
“He’s at Ben Taub,” the officer said. “The criminal’s done confessed, so there ain’t nobody to catch. The doctors just think Mr. Dunlup will do better if he’s got his wife beside him.”
“I quite agree,” Aurora said, nudging the General again.
The General opened his eyes, but then he shut them again. It took her several minutes to get him awake, and then he got angry.
“Your servants are nothing but trouble,” he said. “F.V.’s never cost me an hour’s sleep.”
Aurora was pacing the floor, trying to decide how best to proceed. “Hector, must you really cite F.V. to me at this hour of the night?” she said.
She dressed in silence. Annoying as it was, it was clearly an occasion that would require her to be respectable, so she made herself respectable The General lay in the bed and yawned. When she was dressed Aurora sat down on the bed and waited, hoping he would have a suggestion—any suggestion would have been helpful.
“Well, it’s damned inconvenient,” he said. “I’m sure Rosie’s asleep. What was the damn fool doing?”
Aurora looked at him unhappily. “Hector, you were a general,” she said. “Why can’t you ever act like one when I need it? What I need is someone to help me think of a way to get Rosie back here quick.”
“She’s unstable,” the General said. “If there was ever a time when she needed to be here it’s now, and where is she? I don’t know why you keep her on.” He got up and marched into the bathroom.
When she heard him urinating she got up and followed him. “We aren’t married, Hector,” she said. “You are not exempt from the practice of ordinary good manners.”
“What?” he said, but Aurora slammed the door and took the telephone to her window nook. She had secured a phone number from Rosie’s sister and called it. After many rings Rosie answered the phone.
“Sad news, dear,” Aurora said. “Royce has gotten himself hurt. I don’t know the details, but it’s somewhat serious. You’ll have to come back at once.”
Rosie was silent. “My lord,” she said. “Somebody probably shot him over that slut.”
“No, they used a knife, not a gun,” Aurora said. “Is somebody there who can drive you back?”
“Naw,” Rosie said. “June’s boy’s taken off in the car. I could take a bus back, come morning. Maybe even a plane.”
“Wait,” Aurora said, remembering someone she had been trying to remember since the time the policeman called. “I just thought of Vernon. He’s got planes and pilots. I heard him say so. I’ll call him at once.”
She hung up. The general strode out of the bathroom. In pajamas he looked quite skinny, his calves particularly. “Who are you calling?” he asked.
Aurora got a busy signal, which filled her with relief. At least he was there. She didn’t answer the General.
“I might get a military plane in the morning,” the General said.
Aurora got another busy signal. She dialed Rosie again. “I shall have to go down there,” she said. “He might be on his phone for hours. You pack and I’ll call you as soon as I’ve arranged something.”
“It’s that oil man,” the General said. “You really love him. I knew it anyway.”
Aurora shook her head. “Nothing of the sort, sorry to disappoint you,” she said. “I just happen to trust his judgment in emergencies. I would be happy to trust yours, but you don’t seem to have a judgment, except that F.V. is a better servant than Rosie.”
The General looked around with a show of brusqueness. “I’ll get dressed and go with you,” he said.
“No,” Aurora said. “You get back in that bed and go to sleep. It will be time for your run in two hours. This is no proper concern of yours and there’s no reason you should disrupt your daily schedule. I’ll be back afterwhile, as soon as I’ve gotten Rosie set.”
The General looked at her. She was hastily brushing her hair. “I can go on and sleep here?” he asked just to be sure.
“Why not?” she said. “Where were you thinking of sleeping?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know what you mean half the goddamn time. I don’t see why you need that goddamn little oil man, though. I kind of like the old Italian.”
“He’s younger than you,” Aurora said. “Vernon happens to own planes, Hector. I’m trying to get Rosie here, not reshuffle my very unromantic romantic life. If you’re too thick-skulled to see that, then perhaps I better reshuffle it.”
With that she stuffed her hairbrush into her purse and left, leaving the General to climb back into an empty bed, wondering, as he often did, what was going to happen. What was going to happen?
3.
AURORA DROVE her Cadillac through the almost empty streets until she came to the parking garage that Vernon had said was his. She turned in, punched a button, and received a green ticket. She began to drive slowly up the winding ramps, looking down now and then at Houston, orangeish under its lights.
When she got to the fourth floor she was startled to see a tall, gaunt old man step out of a door and hold his hand up at her. She felt a flutter of fear and contemplated trying to back down, but she knew very well she couldn’t back down four floors without having several smashups. Better to hold her ground. The man walked toward her and she watched him closely. He was trampy-looking and had shaggy hair and was large enough to have made an excellent assailant, but somehow he looked more like a night watchman. He stopped and looked at her for a considerable time, and then made a rolling motion with his hand. He wanted her to roll her window down. After a moment she rolled it down halfway. The old man made a rolling motion again. Aurora looked at him and decided he was older than she had thought. She rolled the window the rest of the way down.
“Howdy,” the old man said. “I’m Schweppes. My guess is you’re the widow from Boston, Mass.”
“Ha,” Aurora said. “He talks about me, does he?”
The old man put his long hands on the door of the car. “He did before you cut his water off,” he said.
“Yes, I’m Aurora Greenway,” she said. “Is he around?”
“Yep, up on the roof, making them phone calls,” Schweppes said. “Gonna marry him this time?”
Aurora shook her head. “Why does everyone think I ought to be married?” she asked.
Old Schweppes looked embarrassed and took his hands off the door. “Pleased to meet you,” he said. “Go right on up.”
She drove on, upward and upward, until the fear of height began to assert itself, after which she concentrated on the curving ramp in front of her. When she finally came off the ramp on top of the building, there was so much space around her that she gripped the steering wheel tightly. Sure enough, Vernon’s white Lincoln was parked near one edge of the building. Aurora drove slowly across the roof. She could see Vernon quite plainly. His car door was open and he held a phone to his ear. When he heard her approach he looked around in amazement. Aurora stopped, set her brake, and got out. Once out of the car, the roof was no longer so frightening. The air was familiarly heavy and moist, and there was no breeze.
Vernon got out of his car and stood by it, clearly amazed, as Aurora walked toward him. His shirt and gabardines were fresh, she noted.
“There you are, Vernon,” Aurora said, holding out her hand. “Guess what?”
Vernon, not sure whether he should
first answer the question or first shake the hand, awkwardly shook the hand. “My lord, what?” he asked.
“I need a little help, old friend,” Aurora said, amused.
Two minutes later Vernon was on the phone to his man in Shreveport, and Aurora had settled herself comfortably in the front seat of the Lincoln to wait her turn to call Rosie and tell her where she would be picked up.
CHAPTER XIX
1.
VERNON, AS usual, was a model of helpfulness and efficiency. Within ten minutes he had arranged for a company man to pick up Rosie and take her to the airport, where a company plane would be waiting to bring her to Houston. In two hours she would be there, which meant that all Vernon had to worry about was what to do with Aurora for two hours. Once the plane had been arranged she no longer seemed in a crisis mood at all.
“It’s too bad you got rid of me so quickly, Vernon,” she said, examining the numerous gadgets she found in the Lincoln. “I scarcely got time to play with your gadgets, and I’m sure you have a lot more that I don’t know about.”
Vernon tried to remember what he had done to make her think he had got rid of her, but he couldn’t remember a thing.
Aurora found indeed that she was feeling extraordinarily good, for some reason. “I don’t see why we don’t take a walk on this roof, since it’s yours,” she said, and they did.
“You know, it feels quite wonderful to be out of my house,” she said. It had just begun to seem faintly morninglike, and the night clouds were breaking.
“Of course, being away from home has always made me feel quite gay,” she added. “I believe I’m a born gadabout. One of my problems is that I frequently need a change. Are you that way, Vernon?”
“I don’t guess,” Vernon said. “I pretty much go along the same.”
It amused her so much that she gave him a quick shake, to his puzzlement. “I’m irresistibly drawn to shake you, Vernon,” she said. “Particularly in my rare moments of buoyancy. You’re a little too useful, that’s all. If you were more erratic someone would probably take a few pains with you. As it is I have plenty of people to take pains with, and some of them are adept at giving pains back.”
“We could have breakfast,” Vernon said.
“I accept,” Aurora said, getting into the Lincoln at once.
“Why it’s a little like driving in Switzerland,” she said as Vernon expertly swirled them down twenty-four stories to the street.
“The place I’m taking you to ain’t noplace fancy,” he said, turning in the direction of the Silver Slipper.
“Good, we’ll slum together,” Aurora said. “Perhaps we should have regular breakfasts together, fortnightly perhaps. Being taken to breakfast is my idea of romance, you know. Very few people have been willing to entertain the thought of me at the breakfast hour, I can tell you that.”
“It’s called the Silver Slipper,” Vernon said when he parked outside the cafe. The pink stucco walls were beginning to peel, which he hadn’t noticed before. In fact, he hadn’t noticed how generally ugly and seedy the whole area was. Debris from a nearby drive-in littered the white shale parking area—smashed beer cans and old french fries and paper cups were plentiful.
Babe and Bobby were cooking a grillful of eggs for a half dozen pipecutters when Vernon and Aurora walked in. The sight of Vernon with a woman almost caused them to overcook the whole mess. They were hard put to do anything but stare, and Vernon, for his part, was hard put to mumble out an introduction.
Aurora smiled when she was introduced, but it didn’t help much. Bobby took refuge in professionalism, but Babe tried gallantly to rise to the occasion.
“Honey, any girl of Vernon’s is a pleasure for us to meet,” she said, not sure if she was striking the right note. She patted her hair a few times and said, “Y’all excuse me while I get this order out.”
Aurora had an omelette, and Bobby snuck as many glances as he dared while he was making it.
“I like your night watchman,” Aurora said when conversation flagged.
“Aw, Schweppes?” Vernon said.
“Don’t say aw,” Aurora said. “It’s very annoying that you didn’t hang in there long enough for me to improve your English.”
“I give it my best try,” Vernon said.
“I hardly think so. You accepted defeat rather calmly—almost with relief, I would have said. You’ve obviously discussed me with these people, and with your night watchman. Why didn’t you discuss me with me instead of with your various cronies and employees?”
“Babe says I’m a born loner,” Vernon said. “She’s always said that.”
Aurora glanced over her shoulder at Babe. “If you’d rather believe her than me, fine,” she said. “It doesn’t matter now. I’ve decided I’d rather have you take me to breakfast once in a while. It will irritate General Scott exceedingly, but that’s his lookout.”
“Now what do you make of that?” Bobby asked Babe the minute they went out the door.
“I wish I hadn’t suggested he give her that goat,” Babe said. “I never knowed she was so old. She’d look nice with a diament, an’ lord knows he can afford to give her one.”
2.
ROSIE POPPED out of the plane the minute its doors opened, at a little airport far out Westheimer. Aurora and Vernon stood watching.
“We bounced around like a boll of cotton,” Rosie said, hugging Aurora.
“Shame on you for running away,” Aurora said. “You could have come and lived with me.”
“Don’t like to impose,” Rosie said.
“No, I’m the only one who seems to. I’m only sorry there aren’t more people willing to be imposed upon.” She picked up a car phone and called Emma, who didn’t answer.
“I bet she’s gone to the hospital,” she said, and at once called the General.
“General Scott,” General Scott said.
“We know that, Hector,” Aurora said. “Has Emma called?”
“Yes, and it’s about time you thought to check,” the General said. “I don’t know what you’d do if I wasn’t around to take messages for you.”
“Get to the point,” Aurora said. “We weren’t discussing what I’d do without you. No doubt I’ll find that out soon enough. What’s my daughter up to?”
“She’s having a baby,” the General said.
“Thank you, Hector. Have a good day if you can,” Aurora said.
“Where are you?” the General asked. “I’ve been worried.”
“On our way to the hospital. Rosie’s in quite good spirits.”
“Well, I’m not,” the General said. “I don’t see why I couldn’t have come along. There’s nothing to do here.”
“I guess it’s not fair to exclude you from all this excitement,” Aurora said. “The baby’s being born at Hermann Hospital—make F.V. bring you there. We have to go to Ben Taub first to see to Royce. Try to look commanding when you come. You know how difficult hospital personnel can be.
“As long as it’s going to be a party I must invite Alberto,” she said when she hung up. “You know how happy babies make him. On the other hand, he’s never much good in the morning. Perhaps I’ll have everyone to dinner instead.”
“This is Emma’s baby,” Rosie said. “I ain’t gonna sit by and watch you take it over like you’ve taken over every’body else.”
“Emma won’t care,” Aurora said. “She’s one of the meek, like Vernon here.”
“I ain’t one of the meek,” Rosie said.
When they got to the ward where Royce was, Shirley Sawyer was there. As Aurora and Rosie and Vernon walked through a long aisle between beds they saw a large woman stand up in confusion. She was by Royce’s bed.
“You mean she’s that old?” Rosie whispered in astonishment, unprepared for Shirley to be large, ugly, and confused.
“I think she’ll leave, if we let her,” Aurora said.
Shirley looked at Royce, who was unconscious, and began to tiptoe out. She had to come right past them, and sh
e continued to tiptoe, rather pitifully, Aurora thought.
“Miz Dunlup, I just had to see him,” Shirley said plaintively. “I know you hate me—I’m the cause of it all.”
She began to cry and went on up the aisle. Rosie didn’t speak, though she did nod a kind of acknowledgment. Then they all went and looked at Royce, who was asleep but obviously not dead. He looked pale and unshaven and had several tubes running into his body. “He’s breathin’, but he ain’t snorin’,” Rosie said tearfully.
Aurora put her hand on Vernon’s arm. Life was such a mystery, and such a drama. She had just seen two grown women moved to tears by the sight of the pale bandaged hulk of Royce Dunlup. Few bodies could have contained less of human grace than Royce’s, it seemed to her, and she could find nothing at all to say about his spirit, since in her presence he had never shown any. Royce was as near to being a human zero as she had encountered, and yet her own Rosie, a woman of morality and good sense, was ruining several Kleenex over him as she and Vernon watched.
“I better tell her he can have his job back,” Vernon said.
“Oh, be still,” Aurora said. “You can’t cure all the ills of humankind with your jobs, you know. You’d do better to cure a few of your own and let the rest of us flounder.”
Vernon shut up, and, while Rosie was examining the countenance of her husband, Aurora looked about the ward. It seemed to be mostly filled with old, hopeless Negro men and young, hopeless Negro men, some of them grotesquely bandaged, none of them looking at anyone else. Thirty people were sitting around in one room, quite removed from one another, and when Aurora looked at Vernon she too felt removed, and rather personless. Who could she weep for? Not likely Hector, at least not at the moment. Perhaps Trevor. It would be just like Trevor to contract some horrible disease, become beautifully gaunt, and die splendidly, thus breaking at last all those sunny hearts who had so relentlessly melted his own over the years. But that was remote. With a sigh she went over to Rosie.
“Ain’t it somethin’,” Rosie said. “An old man like Royce havin’ the gumption to carry on that way.”