A Stone for Danny Fisher (1952) (25 page)

T
HE
same old sign was still in the window:

The same old Chinese ushered us to our seats and handed us a tired fly-dirtied menu.

Her eyes were bright and shining. “You remembered.”

I smiled at her.

Her hand reached across the table toward me. I clasped it and turned it palm upward. “There’s a tall dark man about to come into your life,” I said.

She laughed and squeezed my hand. “Wrong colour hair.” Her eyes were suddenly serious. “Danny.”

I could feel the laughter fade from me as I looked at her. “Yes, Nellie.”

“I hope I’m not dreaming,” she said quickly. “I hope I’m not upstairs in my bed dreaming, because I’ll wake up in the morning and my eyes will be red and my sister will tell me I was crying in my sleep.”

I raised her hand and kissed it quickly. “That ought to prove you’re awake.”

Her eyes were soft and swimming. “If I’m dreaming, I never
want to wake up. I just want to sleep and dream.” Her voice was husky.

I was able to smile now. “You’re awake.”

Her hand gripped mine tightly. “I love you, Danny. I loved you the minute I saw you, I guess. Sitting at the counter with a chocolate soda.” Her eyes were earnest and searching again. “I never went out with another fella. All the time you were away.”

A strong guilt was in me. I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Aw, go on,” I said uncomfortably.

Her hand turned in mine. “Honest, Danny,” she insisted. “Mamma wanted me to, but I didn’t. Somehow I knew you would come back. I just knew it. Even before that girl came from Maxie Fields and told me.”

I stared at her in surprise. “Girl?” I asked. “What girl?”

“Miss Dorfman,” she answered quickly. “Don’t you remember her? She and her brother came into the store a few days after Labour Day and said they had spoken to you and that you were all right and sent your love. They were very nice to do that on their way through New York. She said you had got into some trouble with Fields, but that you would be back as soon as things straightened out.”

Suddenly I felt better. Sarah was okay. There were some people who were on the level. She had tried to help. Maybe if it wasn’t for Sarah, Nellie wouldn’t be here now.

Her eyes were watching me earnestly. “Is it true what they said, Danny—that you took money from Fields to throw the fight that night?”

I didn’t answer her question. Something else was more important. “They said?” I asked. “Who?”

“Mimi came to see me when she was looking for you. This was about a week after you’d disappeared. Zep and I took her up to Mr. Gottkin, and that’s what Fields had told him.” She was still watching my face. “Is it true what he said, Danny?”

I nodded slowly.

Her hand still held mine. There was hurt echo in her voice. “Why did you do it, Danny? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was nothing else I could do,” I said in a low voice. “I needed the dough. I wanted Papa to buy a store with it, and Fields had the squeeze on me anyway. Then I couldn’t lose the fight—even if I tried.”

“But your father locked you out that night, Mimi told me,” she said. “Why didn’t you come to my house and say something?”

I stared at her. “I had to get out. Fields would have been after me.”

She closed her eyes wearily. “It’s all so terrible, I still can hardly
believe it. Two years of not knowing what happened to you, of not knowing who to believe, what to believe.”

The pain on her face made me squirm inside. “Maybe it would have been better if I hadn’t come back,” I said bitterly. “Then you could have forgotten about me and everything would be all right.”

Her eyes were looking inside me again. “Don’t say that, Danny; don’t ever say that again. I don’t care what has happened or what you’ve done so long as you don’t go ’way again.”

I held on to her hand tightly as the waiter took our order. This was the way I thought it should be. And it was.

I pushed the plate away from in front of me and held a match to her cigarette, then to my own. She leaned back in her chair, letting the smoke blow idly through her lips.

“You got thin,” she said.

I grinned at her. “Uh-uh.” I denied it. “I weigh ten pounds more now than I did two years ago.”

Her gaze was thoughtful. “Maybe you do,” she conceded, “but you look thinner. Your face was rounder before—more boyish.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m not a kid any more.”

She leaned forward quickly. “Yes, that’s what it is,” she said in a slightly surprised voice. “You were a boy when you went away. Now you’re grown up.”

“Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?” I asked. “Nobody stays the same for ever. You’ve grown up too.”

Her fingers reached out and touched my face lightly. They rested a moment on the corners of my mouth, then swept gently along the ridge of my nose and across my chin. “Yes, you’ve changed,” she said reflectively. “Your mouth is firmer, your chin is stronger. What did your folks say when they saw you?”

I kept my face blank of expression to screen the hurt of her question. “I haven’t seen them,” I answered.

“You haven’t seen them?” Her voice was wondering. “Why, Danny?”

“I don’t know whether I want to,” I said flatly. “I don’t think they want to see me. Not after all that happened. Not after I was thrown out.”

Her hand gripped mine. “In some ways you’re still a baby, Danny,” she said gently. “I should think they would want to see you.”

“Do you?” I asked bitterly, and yet inside me I was glad she had said that.

“I know Mimi would,” she said confidently, “and your mother.” She smiled up at me. “Do you know that Mimi met Mr. Gottkin when we went up there and they got married? And that Mimi has a little son?”

More surprises. “I knew they were married,” I said quickly, “I saw it in the papers; but I didn’t know about the baby. When did that happen?”

“Last year,” Nellie said. “And now she is going to have another.”

“How do you know so much about her?” I asked curiously.

“We call each other every few weeks,” she said. “In case either of us heard about you.”

I wondered at that. In some ways I felt good; that meant Mimi missed me too. “I couldn’t believe it when I read she had married Sam,” I said.

“He’s been very good to her,” Nellie said quickly. “He’s done a lot for your folks too. He’s helped your father out in business.”

I drew a deep breath. That was one thing that had bothered me. During the last few years I had become certain that my father needed someone to help him. Now, at least, Sam would see to it that
everything
would be okay. I wondered what Sam thought about me, whether he was sore at me for what I did. I guessed he was and I couldn’t really blame him.

“Are you going up to see them?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No.”

“But, Danny, you should,” she said quickly. “After all, they are your family.”

I smiled mirthlessly. “That’s not what my father said.”

“What difference does that make?” she asked. “I know they don’t like me and what they think about me, but if I were in your place, I would go to see them.”

“I’m not going!” I said flatly. “I came home to you, not to them.”

We huddled together in the doorway, our lips pressed together in a fierce, burning intensity. Suddenly she was crying. Quiet,
heart-racking
sobs that shook her body.

Gently I turned her face toward me. “What’s the matter, honey?”

Her arms went frantically around my neck, pulling my face close to her cheek. “Oh, Danny, I’m so frightened! I don’t want you to go away again. You’ll never come back!”

“Baby, baby,” I whispered, holding her close and trying to make her understand, “I’m not going away this time. It’s just good night. I’ll be back.”

Her voice was an anguished cry against my ear. “You won’t, Danny! I just know you won’t!”

I could feel her tears against my cheek. I kissed her. “Don’t cry, Nellie,” I begged her. “Please.”

Her voice was more wild, more frightened than before. “Don’t go away, Danny, don’t leave me again. If you do, I’ll die!”

“I won’t leave you, Nellie,” I promised. I held her still against me until her outburst of tears had subsided.

Her face was hidden against my chest and I had to strain my ears to hear what she was saying. “If there was only some place we could go, some place we would be together, so I could just sit and look at you and say to myself: ‘He’s back, he’s back!’”

She raised her head and looked up at me. In the darkness her eyes were deep and shining. “I don’t want to go home tonight and sleep with my sister and wake up in the morning and find out it was only a dream. I want to go with you and hold on to your hand so that the early light of morning doesn’t take you away from me.”

“I’ll be back in the morning,” I said softly.

“No, you won’t,” she retorted desperately. “If I let you go this time, you’ll never come back. Something will happen and you won’t come back.” The tears began to fill her eyes again. “You said that the last time, Danny. Remember what you said? ‘No matter what happens, remember I love you.’ And then you didn’t come back. But I remembered and remembered.” The tears were flooding down her cheeks. Her arms held me desperately. Her voice was heavy with a pain I could not know.

I tried to smile, to make a joke out of the way she felt. “We can’t stay in this doorway all night, honey.”

“Then find a place we can stay, Danny,” she said, her eyes flashing up at me suddenly. “Find a place we can stay, where I can sit and talk and hold your hand until tomorrow comes and I believe that this is no dream.”

T
HE
sun pouring through the window reached my eyes and they opened quickly and saw her watching me. She was lying on her side, her head resting on one hand, her eyes fixed on me. She smiled.

I stared at her for one unbelieving second, then my lips curved to match her smile. The night came back to me and an incredible warmth coursed through my body. “It’s morning,” I said.

She nodded and her hair cascaded down around her hand, framing her oval face in its blue-black softness. Her eyes went to the window, then back to my face. “It’s morning,” she agreed solemnly.

“You look even beautifuller in the morning,” I said.

Her face flushed. “You look beautiful when you sleep,” she replied in a low voice. “I was watching you. You look like a little boy then.”

I sat up in the bed in mock anger, the sheet falling from me, leaving me naked to the waist. “You mean I don’t look good when I’m awake?” I asked fiercely.

She laughed. Her fingers traced a pattern on my ribs. “You’re skinny,” she said. “Every bone on you sticks out. I’ll have to fatten you up.”

I grabbed her shoulders and pulled her face close to mine. “You can start right now,” I said, kissing her. “Mmmmmh. I’m so hungry I could eat you.”

Her hands framed my face. “Danny,” she asked in a low voice, her eyes searching mine earnestly, “do you love me?”

“’Course I love you.” I was laughing.

Her hands twisted my face back to her. Her eyes were very serious. “Danny,” she said sharply, “say it like you mean it. Like you said last night.”

I stopped laughing. “I love you, Nellie,” I said soberly.

She closed her eyes. “Say it again, Danny,” she whispered. “I love to hear you say it.”

My lips came down on her throat. They moved slowly down to her shoulder, my face pushing away the sheet that covered her body. “I love you, Nellie,” I said.

We were passing the open doors of the church when she stopped suddenly and looked up at me. “Danny, come inside with me.”

I looked at the church, then back at her questioningly. Her eyes pleaded with me silently. “Okay,” I said.

She took my hand and I followed her into the church. In the dimness she turned toward me, her voice trembling. “Danny, you’re not angry with me?”

I squeezed her hand reassuringly. “What for?” I asked.

A grateful smile crossed her lips. “I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t come here first.”

I watched her walk down the aisle and kneel before the altar. She clasped her hands in front of her and inclined her head, closing her eyes. She remained so for a little while, then rose to her feet and came back to me. There was a radiant smile on her face.

I held out my hand to her and she took it. Slowly we walked out of the church and down the steps to the street. We walked along silently for a moment, then she turned and looked up at me.

“I feel better now,” she admitted shyly.

“I’m glad,” I said.

“I—I just had to go in, Danny,” she explained. “I wouldn’t have felt right if I didn’t.”

I whistled a cab to a stop in front of us. “Good,” I said slowly. “I wouldn’t want a bride who didn’t feel right.”

I opened the door and helped her in, then got in beside her. The driver’s face looked back inquiringly at me. “City Hall, please,” I told him.

There were several other couples in the small waiting-room outside the door marked: “
MARRIAGE CHAPEL
,” in frosted black letters on opaque glass. They were all as nervous as we were.

I looked at my watch again. Ten o’clock. Time for the chapel to open. I smiled at Nellie. Somehow it wasn’t as bad in here as it had been outside where we got the licence. I guess it was because out there we had so many questions to answer. But we lied just a little and got the licence with less trouble than we had expected.

The door opened and everyone in the room started nervously. A thin-lipped, grey-haired woman came into the room and looked around importantly. She consulted a list in her hand and then glanced around the room again. “Mr. Fisher and Miss Petito will please come in,” she announced.

I rose to my feet and turned to Nellie, holding out my hand. I could feel the eyes of the other couples on us. Nellie’s hand was trembling in mine. I squeezed it reassuringly.

The woman nodded her head and we followed her into the chapel. She closed the door behind us and led us down to a podium. “Have you the licence with you, young man?” she asked in a dry matter-of-fact voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered quickly, giving it to her.

She glanced at it briefly. A man came silently into the room through another door and stepped up on the podium. She handed the licence to him without a word.

He looked down at us. “Don’t be nervous.” He smiled slightly at his own joke. “It’ll all be over in a minute.”

We both tried to smile with him, but I don’t suppose we made it. We were too nervous.

“Did you bring any witnesses with you?” he asked.

I shook my head. I could feel my face flush.

He smiled again. “Well, no matter,” He turned to the woman. “Miss Schwartz, will you ask Mr. Simpson to step in for a
minute
?”

“Yes, Mr. Kyle.” The grey-haired woman went out the door.

Mr. Kyle looked down at the licence in his hand. “You’re Daniel Fisher?” he asked of me.

“Yes, sir,” I said.

“Age?” he asked.

“Twenty-three,” I answered quickly, hoping he would not question my word. “Like it says there.”

He shot me a brief, suspicious glance. “I can read,” he said succinctly. He looked at Nellie. “Eleanora Petito?”

She nodded silently and he continued to read the licence in front of him. The door opened again and he looked up. The grey-haired woman had returned with a small, birdlike man in a single-breasted suit.

Mr. Kyle looked down at us, smiling. “We’re ready to begin now,” he said, pushing the paper toward us. “If you will just sign this where I indicate——”

Nellie signed first in a nervous, tiny hand. Then it was my turn, and after me the witnesses and finally Mr. Kyle. He blotted the ink dry on his signature and looked down at us importantly.

“Will you please join hands,” he instructed us.

Nellie placed her hand in mine. It wasn’t trembling now. I was glad the ceremony was fast. It seemed as if it were over almost before it had begun. The only words I could remember were the last few. I don’t think the whole thing took more than two minutes.

“Do you, Eleanora Petito, take this man, Daniel Fisher, to be your lawful wedded husband?”

Her eyes were fixed on me. “I do,” she answered in a solemn, hushed voice.

He turned to me. “And do you, Daniel Fisher, take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?”

I was watching her. Her eyes were soft and luminous; there were faint tears in the corners of them. “I—I do,” I stammered.

“Then by the authority vested in me by the City of New York, I hereby pronounce you man and wife.” His voice rasped dryly at my ears. “You may kiss the bride, young man, and pay the clerk two dollars on the way out.”

We kissed awkwardly and turned and hurried toward the door. His voice, drier than it had ever been during the ceremony, called us back. We turned around, startled.

He was smiling. His hand held a sheet of paper toward us. “Don’t you think you ought to take your marriage certificate with you?” he asked.

I could feel my face flushing heavily as I went back and took the certificate from his outstretched hand. “Thank you, sir,” I said quickly. I hurried back to Nellie and we went out the door.

The couples we had left in the waiting-room looked up at us. Some of them smiled. We smiled in return and almost ran out of the building.

We stood on the steps of City Hall and looked at each other. It was the same world we had left a few minutes ago, but it was changed now. We were married.

Nellie put her hand through my arm. “First we’ll go down and tell my folks,” she said proudly.

“Okay,” I said.

“Then we’ll go and tell your family,” she added.

I looked at her in surprise. “What for?” I asked. “It’s none of their business. Besides, they don’t give a damn.”

A firm resolution glowed in her eyes. “But I do. And I want them to know.”

“But they don’t care about us. I don’t have to tell ’em nothin’,” I protested.

She squeezed my arm, smiling. “Look, Danny Fisher, we’re not going to start our marriage with a quarrel, are we?”

I smiled down at her. Her face was flushed and her eyes were happy and sparkling. “N-no,” I answered.

“Then we’ll tell them,” she said definitely, starting down the steps.

“Okay, so we’ll tell them,” I agreed, walking beside her. “I’ll even go on the radio and tell the whole world if you want me to.”

She laughed happily and looked up at me. “Say, do you think that’s a bad idea?”