Odd Girl (19 page)

"Wrap up tight this time," she said to Anne.

Anne put on her hood and pulled the string so that it fitted closely around her face, allowing no air to pass through. From top to bottom she was covered by desert boots, heavy socks and slacks, and finally her warm jacket. She was ready for the wind now. Prudence was ready too.

They opened the door, feeling at once the flying sand beat on them, and hurried down the road that led to the beach.

The sand was stiff under their feet, partly damp and partly covered with snow and ice. The wind was not blowing there, so close to the shore.

"It's always warmer down here somehow," Prudence said. "Perhaps because the sun is directly above us." She went to a dry spot and put the charcoal down and then gathered dry driftwood.

Anne stood, watching the beauty of the sea and the vast deserted beach. She knew now why they had come.

"It frightens me a little," Anne said.

"Like a big watchdog on a leash," Prudence said, putting down a log, "it's a friend only from a distance."

"Are you like that?" Anne said, turning to look at her.

"Are you still afraid of me, Anne?" she asked.

"A little," Anne said.

Prudence took her shoulders and drew her close. There was no one here to see them, and Anne held her tightly.

"Let's build that fire," Prudence said. She let go of Anne and bent down to stack the logs over the charcoal.

"You haven't told me why I'm different from all the others you've brought here," Anne said, watching her.

Prudence stopped making the fire and stood. "Let's walk by the shore and I'll tell you," she said. She took Anne's gloved hand and they walked down to the edge of the water, watching the foam on the small colored rocks and cracked shells of oysters. They stopped and Prudence started talking.

"Something happened to you last night that made you behave differently with me than with Esther. That same thing happened to me. Since Helen I've had no impulse to please anyone or even to be pleased until last night." Prudence paused and waited for Anne to speak.

"You mean you've pleased others just out of politeness," Anne said. "It's very like you." She smiled and took hold of Prudence's hand tightly.

Prudence laughed a little. "That's a new way of putting it, but I guess that is all it was." She let go of Anne's hand, took off her glove, and reached into her pocket.

"I have something for you," she said, "if you want to accept it." She took out a ring. "It's not very much, only silver." She stood silently and waited.

"Prudence," Anne said, "are you proposing to me?"

"Wouldn't the sea make a good Justice of the Peace?" Prudence said. She took Anne's hand. "It needn't be final, Anne, not until you've spoken to Beth again."

Anne paused a moment and looked at Prudence. I feel wholesome with her and close to life, she thought. With Beth things are more intense, even confused—I think Beth could destroy me. A feeling of self-preservation gripped her and she took the ring.

"Tentatively then, I accept," Anne said, "but only on one condition."

"What?" Prudence asked.

"I hate the thought of having a husband," Anne laughed. "Can we both be wives?"

Prudence laughed too. "Seconded," she said. "Now let's build that fire and eat our lunch and hurry up out of here. I didn't realize it would be so cold!"

They ran back together, laughing, pulling each other along on the hard sand, faces near enough to kiss but not touching, lips not touching because they preferred to wait, wait until they could be alone, in a warm house.

They walked back from the bus to the house holding hands in what was now a warm fall afternoon, far from the blast of the sea. Their faces were flushed and windblown and their jackets bulky, too heavy now for November in the city.

"I wonder what people think when we walk down a street holding hands," Anne said. She didn't really care. She looked up at Pru's face and felt happy, clean and alive.

"Most don't notice," Pru smiled, "like we don't notice them." Her face was both very red and very white now, and her hair was bleached by the sun and salt air. Anne wanted to kiss her cheek.

"You've got a sunburn," she said instead.

"So have you," Pru laughed. It was summer for a moment; they were coming home from the beach. "We'll go home and wash up and then go out and shop for tomorrow," she said.

They walked more quickly, skipping happily down the narrow half block to Pru's house. All the shops were open now and it was not the stark and lonely street it seemed at night. Only Pru's shop was closed. A young couple was trying the door.

"We're closed today," Pru called, waving to them.

"But we came all the way from Brooklyn," the woman pouted. She was young and very pretty; the man seemed to be her husband. "Couldn't you open for a little while?"

Pru blushed and smiled and looked at Anne. Anne winked a yes. She was inwardly amused—Pru couldn't turn down a lady.

"All right, then," Pru said, unlocking the door to the shop. She let the couple in first and then Anne and then threw off her jacket on a nearby chair. Anne threw her jacket off too and waited. She was glad Pru had opened the shop; it made the day seem more responsible, more like life with Pru was going to be from now on.

Life with Prudence from now on—Anne liked the idea. She was becoming a part of the shop, learning' to love it and the things it represented, freedom and American enterprise, a place to play and work in, not alone but with someone who loved and cared, not only about Anne but about the whole world—someone who loved and cared enough about life to want to be happy.

Pru had made the sale now. The man was writing out a check. But they were not finished. The customers wanted to chat.

"How about a cup of coffee?" she said to them, joining Pru.

"Fine," the man said, looking first at his watch and then at his wife for approval.

"There's a kitchenette in the back room," Pru said to Anne, "you'll find everything there." She seemed to be relieved by Anne's interruption, as if she felt very uncomfortable when selling.

Anne patted her shoulder reassuringly and went to the back room. She found the room surprisingly neat for a workshop. There were long tables and machinery, and cans of this and that, but the room was large and everything had a place. The far corner was a makeshift but very clean kitchenette with an old stove and a homemade table and benches. A window with happy red curtains showed Pru's narrow strip of garden now brown with November except for some dark green ivy. I love it here, Anne thought. The shop reminded her of a comfortable old shoe and the upstairs was like the platform her father had built on an oak tree in the back yard long ago. She rolled up the sleeves of her sportshirt and busily made coffee, putting water to boil and filling a filter for the drip cone. She felt much like a little girl serving tea out of tiny cups—except she had never played with tea sets; they were for sissies.

Pru must have been in the habit of serving refreshments to customers; everything was here as she had said, even cookies. Anne put some on a dish and carried it out first.

The customers were seated in canvas chairs now, watching Pru show some paintings that she took from a rack and set on the floor for them to see. Anne put the cookie dish on a small table near the woman.

"Are you working here too now?" the woman said, turning from the conversation.

Anne nodded. "I was hired this morning."

"Oh?" The woman seemed pleasantly interested.

She's very nice, Anne thought. The platinum in her hair reminded Anne of Beth. She looked at the man and thought him quite handsome. She was glad the two were so well matched. They seemed happy. Anne wanted to be happy with Pru in the same way. Looking at Pru now, she knew it was possible.

She started back for the coffee and heard the door tinkle and knew someone else had come in. It's a good thing Pru opened up, she thought; it would have been a shame to lose so much business. She hurried to the back to bring out the coffee and then went to see if she could help the new arrival. It was Jacques.

"Hi," he said. "I just came by to deliver your mail."

"Hi," Anne smiled and went to the front of the shop so that their talking would not interfere with that of Pru's customers. She didn't feel uneasy with him this morning but she thought it would be a good idea to get him out of the store before he called her Alice. "I have to buy a turkey," she said, taking her jacket. "Walk me to the store."

"Sure," he said, opening the door again.

Anne put on her jacket and called out to Pru, "We're going to the store."

Pru smiled and waved. "Right. See you later."

"Bye now," Anne smiled at the couple and they nodded back.

She went outside with Jacques and felt she could talk freely.

"I tried to phone you at work," he said. "They said you were getting married. Alice, what a camp!" he laughed loudly and then stopped. "Esther's going mad. She called me three times today. She wants you to call her."

Anne darkened. The thought of Esther had bothered her since last night. She would have to speak to her. She turned Pru's ring nervously on her finger. She hated the thought of having to hurt Esther.

"Shall I tell her where you are?" Jacques asked and waited.

Anne thought for a moment. "Yes," she said finally.

"I guess that would be a good idea. Tell her to come by the shop. Tell her I'm with Prudence Johnson.”

He took Pru's name down to remember it and then put his address book back in his pocket.

He's more composed today, Anne thought, almost like he used to be. "Are you happy with the apartment?" she asked.

He nodded brightly. "What a relief not to have had to go home last night. I called Mom and told her about it. Not a whisper of resistance."

"I'm glad," Anne said. She remembered Jacques' father hated him. She was glad Jacques was safe from his violent temper now. She thought of her own father.

"Has Dad tried to call me again?" she asked.

"Gosh, Alice, I almost forgot," he hit his head. "He called last night and I spent an hour on the telephone with him. He's very angry."

"What did you tell him?" Anne said. She was no longer afraid of her father, only concerned that her family was being made to suffer this way. She didn't want to hurt them.

"I told him you were all right," Jacques said. "I spent an hour trying to convince him. He's been to the police trying to find you, but they said you were over twenty-one and wouldn't do anything. He's licked I think, Alice," he said.

"I'm sorry," Anne said. She resolved to see them sometime during Christmas. It would soften the blow. But she would have to meet them at a public place, where they wouldn't be able to hold her by force.

Christmas. The Christmas season was coming up. Anne walked quietly beside Jacques and looked at the mail he had brought her. Nothing but advertisements. She thought of Christmas and what it was going to be like with Pru. A huge tree and grog, no doubt—lying on the floor with Pru in front of the old fireplace that she would help Pru fix. And after Christmas there would be opening night for Beth's play. Anne looked forward to that, too. She wanted Pru to meet Beth.

Beth. Anne could not help thinking of what Pru had said: "You could have Beth back now. You could take her back and she'd stay with you, as Helen stayed with me."

That seemed unbelievable, and yet now Anne believed it was possible. It made her afraid. It left things unfinished in her mind. It left her feelings about Beth up in the air. She had given Beth up because there had seemed to be no hope, but now Pru had told her there was hope, and she was afraid because there was. She was afraid of Beth. She would have to face Beth again; before she could love Pru she would have to. Beth might take her from Pru, and Pru was sanity. With you the world is real, she told Pru in her mind and let a wave of fondness warm her chest. But the thought of Beth was not drowned.

They entered the supermarket and Anne took a basket and pushed it to the meat department.

"You're so quiet, Alice." Jacques said. "Anything wrong?"

"No." Anne smiled uneasily. She was letting the conflict show. She picked a large turkey and put it in the basket then went to get vegetables and stuffing mix. Jacques followed her silently. He was being quiet and obedient today, dependent somewhat. Being on his own was new and strange to him.

The store was crowded. Offices had closed early for the holiday and it was almost impossible to find a clear aisle. Anne gave up trying to push the basket and walked to the different shelves for what she wanted to get. She was fighting impatience and an impulse that was growing very strong. She wanted to see Beth. Tonight.

She had gathered enough for four days and the basket was now very full. She pushed it determinedly through the crowd to the long check-out line. She felt her face flushed and sweat forming around the rim of her collar. It was difficult to wait at the end of the line. She wanted to hurry back to Pru, before she began to think too much of Beth. It was mostly curiosity that plagued her—she had waited so long to win Beth, and Pru had told her it was possible. She needed to know for herself. She was not yet a person, until she knew.

She looked at Jacques. He was thinking of something else, perhaps the apartment. All at once she could not bear waiting on line. She wanted to run away. She could not bear waiting for the evening to wear on. She had to see Beth. She had to finish things before she could be with Pru. She took out her wallet and put twenty dollars in Jacques' hand.

"Will you pay for these and take them back to the house?" she asked.

Jacques snapped back to the present and looked at her. "Huh?"

"Would you?" Anne said.

"Sure," he said, a little puzzled.

"Got a pencil?" she asked, taking out paper from her pocket.

He gave her his pen and watched her begin to write.

"Will you give this to Pru?" she said, beginning to write, and then paused. What could she say? She was running away to see Beth. She had run away from Esther through Pru, and away from her father and Mark. Now she was running from Pru to see Beth. She hated her own cowardice and crumpled the paper.