Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Illustrated) (489 page)

Doris. It’s the funniest thing I ever heard of, his sneaking off this way… Say, Charlotte, I’ve been meaning to say something to you for a couple of days, but I didn’t want to get you depressed.

Charlotte. How could I possibly be any more depressed than I am?

Doris. Well, I just wanted to ask you if you’d tried the morgue yet.
[Charlotte gives a little scream.]
Wait a minute. Get control of yourself. I simply think you ought to
try
it. If he’s anywhere you ought to locate him.

Charlotte
[wildly].
Oh, he’s not dead! He’s not dead!

Doris. I didn’t say he was, did I? I didn’t say he was. But when a fella wanders out tight after drinking some of this stuff, you can’t tell
where
you’ll find him. Let me tell you, Charlotte, I’ve had more experience with this sort of thing than you have.

Charlotte. The detective is coming to report this morning.

Doris. Has he been combing the dives? You ought to have him comb the dives, Charlotte. I saw a picture last week that ought to be a lesson to any woman that loses her husband in a funny way like this. The woman in this picture lost her husband and she just combed the dives and — there he was.

Charlotte
[suspiciously].
What was he doing?

Doris. Some vampire was sitting on his lap in a cafe.
[Charlotte moans.]
But it does show that if you do have the dives combed, you can find ‘em. That’s what this woman did…  There’s where most men go when they wander out like that.

Charlotte. Oh, no, Jerry wouldn’t go to the dives, or the — the morgue, either. He’s never drank or done anything like that till that night. He’s always been so mild and patient.

This is a new note from Charlotte.

Doris
[after a thoughtful pause].
Maybe he’s gone to Hollywood to go in the movies. They say a lot of lost men turn up there.

Charlotte
[brokenly].
I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’m re-responsible. He said that night he might have been P-President if it hadn’t been for me. He’d just been analyzed, and they found he was per-perfect.

Doris. Well, with no reflections on the dead or anything like that, Charlotte, he wasn’t so wonderful as you make out. You can take it from me, he never would have been anything more than a postman if you hadn’t made him be a railroad clerk… . I’d have the dives combed.

Charlotte
[eulogistically].
He was a good husband.

Doris. You’ll get over it.

Charlotte. What?

Doris. Cheer up. In a year or so you’ll never know you ever had a husband.

Charlotte
[bursting into tears at this].
But I want him back.

Doris
[reminiscently].
Do you know the song? Do you know the song?
[She sings:]

“A good man is hard to find
You always get the other kind
And when you think that he is your friend
You look around and find him scratching
‘Round some other hen —  — “

She has forgotten her ethical connection and begins to enjoy the song for itself, when Charlotte interrupts.

Charlotte
[in torture].
Oh, don’t! Don’t!

Doris. Oh, excuse me. I didn’t think you’d take it personally…  It’s just about colored people.

Charlotte. Oh, do you suppose he’s with some colored women?

Doris
[scornfully].
No-o-o! What you need is to get your mind off it for a while. Just say to yourself if he’s in a dive, he’s in a dive, and if he’s in Hollywood, he’s in Hollywood, and if he’s in the morgue —  —

Charlotte
[frantically].
If you say that word again. I’ll go crazy!

Doris. — well, in that
place,
then, just say: “I can’t do anything about it, so I’m going to forget it.” That’s what you want to say to yourself.

Charlotte. It’s easy enough to
say,
but I can’t get my mind —  —

Doris. Yes, you can.
[Magnanimously.]
I’ll tell you about what I’ve been doing. I’ve had sort of a scrap with Joseph.

Charlotte. Joseph who?

Doris. Joseph Fish. He’s that fella I brought around here, only you didn’t meet him. I told you about him. The one I got engaged to about ten days ago. His parents were in the mortuary business.

Charlotte. Oh.

Doris. Well, I been trying to make him stop chewing gum. I offered to give it up if he would. I think it’s sort of common when two people that go together are always whacking away at a piece of gum, don’t you?

There’s a ring at the door-bell.

Charlotte. That’s the detective.

Doris
[prudently].
Have you got that liquor hidden?

Charlotte. I threw that horrible stuff away. Go let him in.

Charlotte goes to the door and ushers in the detective. The detective wears an expression of profound sagacity upon his countenance.

Have you found him?

The Detective
[impressively].
Mrs. Frost, I think so.

Charlotte. Alive?

The Detective. Alive.

Charlotte. Where is he?

The Detective. Wait. Be calm. I’ve had several clews, and I’ve been following them up one at a time. And I’ve located a man, who answers to the first name of Jerry, that I think is your husband.

Charlotte. Where did you find him?

The Detective. He was picked up trying to jimmy his way into a house on Crest Avenue.

Charlotte. Good heavens!

The Detective. Yep — and his name is Jerry. He had it tattooed on his arm.

Charlotte. Good God!

The Detective. But there’s one thing that’s different from your description. What color is your husband’s hair?

Charlotte. Brown.

The Detective. Brown?  Are you sure?

Charlotte. Am I sure? Of course I’m sure.

The Detective
[to Doris].
Do you collaborate that?

Doris. When he left here it was brown.

The Detective. Well, this fella’s hair was red.

Charlotte. Oh, it’s not Jerry then — it’s not Jerry.

Doris
[to Charlotte].
Well, now, how do you know? Maybe —
[She turns to the detective.]
You see, this fella had been drinking some of this funny liquor you get around here sometimes and it may just have turned his hair red.

Charlotte
[to the detective].
Oh, do you think so?

The Detective. I never heard of a case like that. I knew a fella whose hair was turned white by it.

Doris. I knew one, too. What was the name of the fella you knew?

Charlotte. Did this man claim to be my husband?

The Detective. No, madam, he didn’t. He said he had two wives out in Montana, but none that he knew of in these parts. But of course he may have been bluffing.

Doris. It doesn’t sound like Jerry to me.

The Detective. But you can identify him by that tattoo mark.

Charlotte
[hastily].
Oh, he never had one.

The Detective. Are you sure?

Charlotte. Oh, yes.

The Detective
[his face falling].
Well, then, he’s not our man, because this fella’s tattoo marks are three years old. Well, that’s a disappointment. That’s a great disappointment for me. I’ve wasted some time over this man. I’d been hoping he’d — ah — do.

Charlotte
[hastily].
Oh, no, he wouldn’t do at all. I’ll have to have the right man or I won’t pay you.

The Detective. Well, now then, I’ve been following up another clew. Did your husband ever have aphasia?

Charlotte. Oh, no, he’s always been very healthy. He had some skin trouble about —  —

Doris. He doesn’t mean that, Charlotte. Aphasia’s where a man runs off and commits murder and falls in love with a young girl under another name.

Charlotte. Oh, no, he’s never done anything like this ever before.

The Detective. Suppose you tell me exactly what did happen.

Charlotte. Well, I told you he’d been drinking something that had spirits of nitrogen in it.

The Detective. Spirits of nitrogen!

Charlotte. That’s what the man said. It was sympathetic gin that this man had persuaded Jerry into buying.

The Detective. Yes.

Charlotte. And he’d been talking all evening about all the things he could have done if I hadn’t stood in his way. He had some examination he’d just taken.

Doris
[explaining]. A
psychical examination.

The Detective
[wisely].
I see.

Charlotte. And my sister came over with the man she’s going to marry, and she came up to see me, and when she came down Jerry was asleep in his chair. Well, I didn’t go down. I wish I had now. And my sister here and her fellow went away. Then I went to bed, and it seems to me I could hear Jerry talking to himself in his sleep all night. I woke up about twelve, and he was saying something loud, and I told him to shut the door, because I could smell that awful sympathetic gin way up-stairs.

The Detective. Yes.

Charlotte. And that’s all. When I came down next morning at seven, he was gone.

The Detective
[rising].
Well, Mrs. Frost, if your man can be located, I’m going to locate him.

Doris. Have you thought of combing the dives?

The Detective. What?

Doris. Have you combed the dives? It seems to me that I’d make the rounds of all the dives, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if you’d see this man with somebody sitting on his knee.

The Detective
[to Charlotte].
Does he run to that?

Charlotte
[hurriedly].
Oh, no. Oh, no.

Doris
[to Charlotte].
How do you know?

A brisk knock at the door. Doris opens it eagerly, admitting a small, fat, gray-haired man in a state of great indignation.

The Detective
[to Charlotte].
Is this the pursued?

The Man
[sternly].
You are speaking to Mr. Pushing. I employ or did employ the man who lives in this house.

Charlotte
[wildly].
Oh, where is he?

Mr. Pushing. That’s what I came here to find out. He hasn’t been at work for a week. I’m going to let him go.

Doris. You ought to be ashamed of yourself. He may be dead.

Mr. Pushing. Dead or alive, he’s fired. I had him analyzed. He didn’t have any ambition, and my analyzer gave him nothing but a row of goose-eggs. Bah!

Charlotte. I don’t care. He’s mine.

Doris
[correcting her].
“Was” mine.

The Detective. Maybe you could tell me something about his habits in business hours.

Mr. Pushing. If you’ll come along with me I’ll show you his analyzed record. We’re having it framed.
[Contemptuously.]
Good morning.

He goes out. The Detective, after a nod at Charlotte and Doris, follows him.

Doris. Well, I should think you’d be encouraged.

Charlotte. Why?

Doris. Well, that detective found a fella that’s something like him. The same first name, anyway. That shows they’re getting warm.

Charlotte. Somehow it doesn’t encourage me.

Uncertain steps on the stairs. Dada appears wearing a battered hat and carrying a book under his arm.

Doris. Hello, Dada. Where you going?

Dada
[hearing vague words].
Hm.

Charlotte. He’s going down to the library.

Dada
[in  spirited  disagreement].
No. You  were wrong that time. I’m not going to the park. I’m going to the library.

Doris
[sternly].
Where do you think your son is?

Dada. The —  — ?

Doris
[louder].
Where do you think Jerry is, by this time?

Dada
[to Charlotte].
Didn’t you tell me he was away?

Charlotte nods drearily.

Dada
[placidly].
Hasn’t come back yet?

Doris. No. We’re having the dives combed.

Dada. Well, don’t worry. I remember I ran away from home once. It was in 1846. I wanted to go to Philadelphia and see the Zoo. I tried to get home, but they took me and locked me up.

Doris
[to Charlotte].
Inthe monkey house, I bet.

Dada.
[He missed this, thank God!]
Yes, that’s the only time I ever ran away.

Doris. But this is a more serious thing, Dada.

Dada. Boys will be boys…  Well, it looks like a nice day.

Charlotte
[to Doris].
He doesn’t care. He doesn’t even understand what it’s all about. When the detective searched his bedroom he thought it was the plumber.