Brentwood (5 page)

Marjorie turned and put her hand out to open the door, but before she quite touched it someone fumbled at the knob from the outside. The door was suddenly flung open with a bang, letting in a rush of cold air, and someone stumbled into the hall bearing a heavy burden.

M
arjorie stepped back, startled, staring at the tall man carrying a heavy sack of coal upon his back and another of small pieces of wood in his arms.

Betty rushed forward and put up her arms to take one bag from him.

“Oh, Father!” she cried, “where have you been? How did you get it?” And then, giving him a quick searching look, “Where is your overcoat, Father? Oh, you didn’t sell your overcoat, did you? Your nice overcoat? Oh, Father, and you are
sick!
”

“It couldn’t be helped, Betty,” said the man, in a hoarse voice. “I had to get this house warm somehow for your mother. I couldn’t let her freeze to death!” There was something warm and tender in his voice that brought the tears to Marjorie’s eyes and a great rush of love for her unknown father to her heart.

Then the man suddenly dropped the bag from his back to the floor, put his hands up to his head with a bewildered look, and staggered over to the stairs, dropping down upon the second step, his face in his hands, and Marjorie saw that his bare hands were red and rough with cold and that he seemed to be shivering.

“Father! Oh, Father! What is it?” cried Betty, rushing over to him.

“Oh, it’s nothing!” murmured the man with an effort. “Just a little dizzy, that’s all. I’ll be all right in a minute!”

“You had no breakfast! That’s what makes you dizzy!” cried the girl in deep distress. She did not look toward her new-found sister. She seemed to have forgotten her presence. And the man on the stairs had not even seen her. Marjorie was getting an inside glimpse of her family off their guard, and a sharp, new, thrilling pain went through her heart. This was what they had been enduring part of the time while she rode on the top wave of luxury. Hungry! And she had often had to be coaxed to eat!

That picture of her father sitting on the stairs, his head bowed in his hands, would stay with her always, she knew. Tall and well-built, but stooped. Shapely hands, thin and blue-veined, the hands of a scholar or a gentleman. Shabby in his summer-weight business suit, yet with an air of having known better days. All this she saw in a flash. And Evan Brower had dared to suggest her family might be an embarrassment! Her heart suddenly rose in defense.

“I’ll get you a drink of water!” Betty was saying. “Thank goodness they haven’t turned off the water yet!” And she vanished through the door, into the kitchen.

Marjorie saw there was a door from the little parlor where she stood, and opening it, she followed and found her sister as she brought back the water.

“I’ll get him something to eat right away,” she whispered. “Is there a restaurant or any place nearby where they have food?”

“Only the drugstore. You can get a bottle of milk. Yes, bring it back quick. He didn’t go out to the mission last night, he felt too miserable to go in the cold. And I suspect he hasn’t been going there very often. It hurts his pride terribly. Yes, bring some milk quick. He’s brought enough fuel to start the fire, and I can get it going while you’re gone.”

Marjorie ran down the uneven little sidewalk, breathless with the thought of her father sitting there in the bare, ugly house, cold and hungry, dizzy with faintness, and her mother, no telling how sick upstairs! It was too dreadful! Why hadn’t she come sooner? Why hadn’t she taken the first train after she found the letter? Why had she dared hesitate? Why didn’t her heart tell her how much her own were in need?

Then her quick mind began planning what to do. Her father should have something hot, like soup or coffee. Probably both. In all probability, her sister hadn’t had much to eat either. And likely the mother had had very little, although they seemed to have saved everything for her. She must somehow manage to get some strengthening food to them at once. But how, and what? How far would it be to a good restaurant? Well, the drugstore would have hot-water bags. She could perhaps get them to fill one or two. And thermos bottles. Would there be any way to get a can of soup heated and fill a thermos bottle?

Arrived breathless at the diminutive drugstore, she found to her joy that they had a soda fountain and served soup and coffee with sandwiches. The service wasn’t very efficient, and there was very little choice. But there was hot coffee and there was hot tomato soup, that is, it wasn’t hot yet, but the man said he could heat them both in a jiffy. And he had just two thermos bottles left. He agreed to rinse them out and fill one with coffee and the other with soup, and also to fill two hot-water bags with hot water and wrap them in newspapers. He hadn’t had such a large order in weeks.

While he was getting them ready, Marjorie hurried across the street to the grocery and bought two baskets big enough to carry her purchases and also a dozen oranges, a loaf of bread, a pound of butter, and a pound of sliced ham.

Back at the drugstore, she added a quart bottle of milk to her other purchases and started back to the house. But she found she could not make very good time, a great basket in either hand. It was the heaviest load that she had ever carried in her life. She fairly staggered under it, but she would not waste time resting.

Arrived at the house, she found the front door unlatched, but her father was no longer sitting on the stairs, and she heard sounds from the cellar.

Marjorie came into the kitchen as Betty came hurrying up the cellar stairs, a long streak of soot on one white cheek and her eyes wide and worried.

“He would go down and start the fire,” she said in a distressed voice. “I couldn’t do anything with him.” Her voice was almost like a sob. “He always thinks a woman has to be waited on, but he’s had another dizzy spell and he’s sitting on the cellar stairs now. Did you get anything?”

“Yes,” said Marjorie eagerly. “I brought hot soup and coffee, and here’s some aromatic ammonia. Perhaps that will help, too. And here, I have two hot-water bags, nice and hot. Take one down and put it on his lap. Haven’t you got a flannel or bit of old something to wrap it in? He ought to get warm right away.”

“Oh, you’re great!” said Betty, and the tears were rolling down her cheeks, tears of relief.

She snatched a nicked cup from the shelf and poured out coffee, and with a hot-water bag under her arm, hurried down cellar again.

Marjorie hunted around and found plates and more cups and a knife, and cut some slices of bread, buttering them and putting ham between them. When Betty came back upstairs, Marjorie had a plateful of nice sandwiches ready for her, and a cup of coffee.

“Take a swallow of this,” said Marjorie, holding out a cup of coffee, “then take this sandwich to Mother. You’ll be sick next if you don’t look out.”

Betty looked hungrily at the food.

“But I must take something up to Mother first,” she said.

“No, drink this first, quick. It won’t take you but a minute, and you can work better with something inside you. Take this sandwich and carry a cup of something up to Mother. Which should it be? Coffee first, or soup, or isn’t she well enough for those? I’ve got oranges here. I can fix her a glass of orange juice in no time.”

“Oh, wonderful!” said Betty gratefully, her eyes filling with relieved tears again. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come!”

“There! Never mind that now. Just drink a little more and then go up to Mother. As soon as she knows about me I can help you care for her. I know how to take care of sick people. And now, shall I just slip out and have that coal sent up? You haven’t got enough to last long in those bags, and the house ought to get thoroughly warm and stay so. And while I’m out, I’m going to order some groceries. Is that store I went to the best, or is there a better one somewhere else?”

“That’s the best near here. They’re all right. Ted will be home by and by perhaps and bring the things up for you.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll find a way,” said Marjorie brightly. “Did you tell Father I had come?”

“Not yet. He seemed so sick. And he was so determined to get that fire started. I’d better run down and see if he is all right now, and while you are gone, I’ll tell him.”

Betty went down cellar and hurried up again.

“He’s eaten all the soup and is eating his sandwich now. I think he feels better. He said he would stay down for a few minutes to be sure the fire was started all right. He had one of those patent lighters, you know, and he wants to be sure the kindling catches. Now, I’m going up to Mother.”

“Well, take this other hot-water bag,” said Marjorie. “And I’ll wait here at the foot of the stairs a minute to see if there is anything else you want me to get.”

So Betty flew away up the stairs and back again in a moment.

“She is still asleep,” she whispered. “I laid my hand on her head and she didn’t feel quite so hot as before. I think the hot-water bags helped. I slipped the other one in behind her back.”

“Has she had a doctor?” asked Marjorie.

“No, she wouldn’t let us. She said we hadn’t the money to pay him. But Father is almost crazy about it. I think we ought to have him come just once, anyway, don’t you?”

“I certainly do!” said Marjorie. “Where is he? I’ll get him before I do anything else.”

Betty gave the name and address.

“He’s supposed to be a good doctor. I guess his prices are rather high,” she said sorrowfully.

“What difference does that make?” said Marjorie. “We want the best there is. I’ll send him as soon as I can, and you’d better make him prescribe for Father, too. I’ll tell him about it, and you make him. And, where do I talk to the gas people to get that gas turned on? We want to be able to cook some real dinner tonight!”

“Oh!” said Betty, quick tears stinging into her eyes. “You are going to be wonderful, aren’t you!”

“No,” said Marjorie, smiling, “I’m just going to be one of the family and try to make up for lost time. Does the water bill need looking after, too? We can’t have that shut off. And what about electric light?”

“Oh!” cried Betty softly, sinking down on the lower step of the stairs, “you’ll use all your money up!”

“Well,” said Marjorie happily, “that’s what money is for, isn’t it? To be used up?”

“You’re really real, aren’t you?” said Betty. “I can scarcely believe it.”

“What did you think I was, a spirit? Here, write those addresses quick. I want to get things started and get back to help.”

She handed her sister a little notebook and pencil from her handbag.

“We could get along without electric light if you get a couple of candles,” Betty said with a troubled look.

“Why should we?” said Marjorie, and stooping, she kissed her sister’s forehead lightly.

“You’ll be sorry you ever came near us,” said Betty sadly, “having to spend all this money and go on all these errands.”

“I’m already glad I came,” said Marjorie, “and if Mother and Father get well, and you don’t get sick, I’d say I’m having the time of my life. It makes me greatly happy to be able to help, and I only wish I’d known before that you had all this suffering.
And me with plenty!
”

Then, although she was almost choking with tears, she gave a bright smile and hurried away on her errands.

She went to the drugstore where there was a telephone booth and called the doctor, the coal yard, the gas company, and the electric company, and her crisp young voice, accustomed as it was to giving orders that were always promptly obeyed, brought courteous service at once, especially since full payment of the bill was promised when the agent would call. Then she went over to the little grocery and astonished the manager by selecting a large order from the best of his stock. She found also that there was a certain Joe, with a rusty little jalopy, who would for the consideration of a dime, deliver the order at once. And so, in an incredibly short space of time considering all she had accomplished, she arrived back at the house. She was in plenty of time to let in the gas man who had come post haste because of her urgency and her statement that there were two sick people in the house.

Then the groceries arrived and filled the shelves with stores.

In the midst of it Betty came down with round eyes of astonishment at the magic that had been wrought.

The chill was partly gone from the house by this time, and Marjorie took off her fur coat and her smart little felt hat and hung them in the almost empty hall closet. She rejoiced to feel a strong puff of hot air coming up the tiny register in the hall.

“Now!” she said, “I’m ready for work! Where do I put these things? Are there special places for them, or do I park them wherever I like?”

“Wherever you like!” said Betty throwing open the little pantry door and displaying a vista of empty shelves.

“And there comes the coal!” said Marjorie. “You’ll have to tell him where to put that!”

Marjorie enjoyed putting away the groceries. She found the empty sugar jar and filled it. She put the vegetables and fruit in baskets. She found the old tin bread box and filled it with loaves. She had bought with a lavish hand, as far as the selection of the small store had afforded. Tin boxes of crackers and cookies and sand tarts, cheese and pickles and olives, coffee and tea and flour and meat. But there was no refrigerator, and she decided it had probably been sold. Well, it was good it was cold weather. And they could remedy most of the discrepancies tomorrow.

Betty came up from the cellar and looked at her, watched her as she put things away.

“Well,” she said in her sharp, young voice that had a mingling of tears in its quality, “I suppose you must be pretty wonderful, and I’m crazy!”

“Nothing wonderful about it! I’m just an ordinary sister, Betty, that’s mighty hungry to be taken in and made one of you!”

“Well, I should say you’d taken us in, if you asked me! I thought we’d reached the limit and tonight would see us all well on our way out of this life, but you’ve somehow brought us back again where we have to go on.” Suddenly Betty dropped down on a box by the kitchen door and, putting her head down in her hands, burst into tears. Betty was worn out.