Tigers in Red Weather (21 page)

“Well, well. I’d have to say it’s been a couple of weeks.”

“A couple of weeks?”

“Maybe a month.”

“A month. You must be joking. Where the goddamn hell has he been for a month?”

“Well, now, Mrs. Derringer, I couldn’t rightly say.”

“You couldn’t rightly say.”

“No, I couldn’t.”

“That’s just fine, Mr. Fox. You don’t have to say anything. Here’s what I say: I will find Avery Lewis by myself, and when I do, he will have been up to no good. And I will create the biggest scandal you’ve ever seen and everyone in your town will know that he was doing it on your property. Under your roof. Now, if you do not produce a key to this door right this instant, I will call the police and have them knock it down. I did not travel two thousand miles to be stopped by you or anyone else. Do we understand each other?”

Score one for the Bitch. Helena bit her pillow.

“Well, well, Mrs. Derringer.”

There was a silence, and Helena thought she might have dozed off, but then she heard the Producer start up again.

“Now, I think I did hear that he was auditioning actresses for his film project. I believe he rented a space somewhere for that purpose, that business purpose, you understand. And, well, that’s where he might be.”

“I want the address. And get me that goddamn key.”

“As I said, I don’t have one. But I’ll get the gardener. I think he might be able to help us out here.”

“That is a fine idea, Mr. Fox.”

Then Helena really did drift off. It was the Dilaudid. Or the Demerol. She couldn’t remember which one was on the nightstand. She heard a faint banging, somewhere in her dream, and then a very cool hand on her forehead.

“Darling, oh, Helena.”

Helena opened her eyes. It was
her
. Was she crying? No, because the Bitch didn’t cry. What did the Bitch ever have to cry about?

“Darling? Can you hear me? It’s Nick. Oh, my poor Helena. I’m getting you out of here.”

Helena was too sleepy to tell her that she didn’t want to go anywhere. Not with her.

“Avery.”

“Don’t worry about anything right now. Please. I’ll take care of everything.”

Helena nodded. She didn’t know why she nodded, she just wanted the talking to stop so she could go back to sleep. She was so tired. She closed her eyes, but she could still hear the tennis.

“Jesus Christ. We need to get a doctor.”

“It’s just the pills, Mrs. Derringer.” The Producer was there, too. “She’ll be fine after she sleeps it off. But, if you’re worried I can call Dr. Hofmann. That’s Helena’s … uh … Mrs. Lewis’s doctor.”

“Are you out of your mind? Look at her. And you’re even crazier if you think I’m letting that quack anywhere near her. Where’s the telephone?”

Helena was back in Tiger House, it was summer and the linen curtains her grandmother had made were fluttering on the landing. Out the window, she could see her mother and father having tea on the lawn across the street with her aunt and uncle. A breeze had lifted her mother’s hat and she was trying to keep it pinned down while holding her teacup in her other hand.

Her shin hurt where Nick had kicked her. She didn’t know why
she was the one who had gotten kicked. It was Nick who had been naughty. She had promised Helena a surprise, and then taken her to Main Street, where they were tarring the road. Helena had watched in horror as Nick reached down and pulled a strip of the warm tar off the road and popped it in her mouth. Then Nick had tried to make Helena put some in her own mouth. Helena had refused and Nick had called her a baby. She had thrown a piece of tar at her, staining Helena’s dress. Helena had cried, knowing her mother would be furious, and told Nick she was going to tell. That’s when Nick had kicked her in the shin as hard as she could.

Now Nick was looking for her. But Helena had hidden herself behind the curtains on the landing. She could hear her grandfather downstairs.

“Ah, there you are, you devil child,” Helena heard him say to Nick. “What mischief have you been getting up to?”

“Nothing, Grandfather.”

“Is that tar on your teeth?” She heard her grandfather laugh. “Old Nick. You really are the devil. Well, never mind that. I wanted to show you what I brought back from India. Isn’t it beautiful?”

Helena desperately wanted to see, but was still wary of giving up her hiding place.

“See those tigers? When you and your cousin are old enough, I’ll have dresses made for you both. What do you say to that?”

“I love it,” Helena heard Nick say, a little breathless.

“All right, then. I’m going to the Reading Room for a drink. Don’t tell your grandmother.”

“I won’t, Grandfather.” And then a little louder: “I hate tattletales, more than anything.”

“So do I. Well said.”

Helena waited a little while, until it was quiet again, and then looked over the banister. Nick was standing there in the hall, her head slightly to one side. Helena sucked her cheeks in and out until
enough saliva collected on her tongue. She leaned over the banister as far as she could and let the spitball go, watching until it landed with a satisfying pat on her cousin’s head.

When Helena opened her eyes, she could still hear her. But the room was different; it was big. She could tell because the distance from the bed to the wall was vast. And the walls were mint green. There was a nightstand, but her pills weren’t on it, only a glass of water. She wanted to reach for it, her mouth was dry, but she didn’t want them to know she was awake.

“I’ve called Dr. Hofmann. He gave me a list of what she’s been taking, and frankly, Mrs. Derringer, I’m surprised she hasn’t overdosed yet. It’s quite a cocktail.”

“I see. And did this doctor, or whatever he is, say why she was taking these pills?”

“The usual list: anxiety, depression, insomnia, listlessness.”

“All of it?”

“Well, in my opinion, some of the pills may have brought up other symptoms that were then addressed with further prescriptions. I can’t be entirely sure, not having followed her case myself. It appears that she was taking the medication at fairly reasonable doses for a significant period of time, but in the last three years or so she has been taking them at what I would term an abusive level.”

“Goddamn it. If I find her husband I am going to strangle him myself. And that goddamn quack along with him.”

“Yes. In any case, you do understand that she can’t be taken off the medication directly.”

“You can’t possibly be suggesting that she keep taking these pills?”

“That is exactly what I’m suggesting. If we remove the drugs completely, the withdrawal could kill her. Now, I must reiterate my strong feeling that your cousin should be in a hospital. The doses have to be given in a precise and regulated manner, and are best handled by
someone with experience. I’m not sure a hotel is really the most suitable place to deal with a situation this grave.”

“I’m not putting Helena into a hospital. I think the doctors in this town have done enough.”

“We are not all monsters, Mrs. Derringer.”

“Dr. Monty recommended you, and I have faith in him. But I can’t say at this point it extends much further than that, as I’m sure you can understand. Now, what do I have to do?”

“As you wish. I have written out a list of the new prescriptions, when they are to be administered and at what dose. I’ll give you the number of a private nurse. This does not mean Mrs. Lewis won’t exhibit symptoms of withdrawal, but they should be controlled. Nightmares, irritability, vomiting, sweating, possibly seizures. These can all be expected. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” The Bitch didn’t sound so cool now. “When will she be able to travel? I want to take her home as soon as possible.”

“Definitely not for a week. Maybe two. Now, let’s start with the phenobarbital. In your cousin’s case, while she seems to have consumed largely opioids, the barbiturates are the most worrying …”

Helena didn’t want to hear any more. She wanted Avery. Where was he? He would never come back, not if the Bitch was around. She had been waiting, waiting, waiting for him. But he hadn’t come back. He said he had found Ruby. But it wasn’t Ruby. It was someone else. She was blond; Ruby had red hair. She remembered telling him that. She couldn’t be Ruby, because Ruby had red hair. And Avery had said he would make her hair red. That was it. He was going to do screen tests. And he had found the Ruby. And he said she had to sleep and when she was feeling strong, she must call the Bitch and get the money. Once and for all. And then he would be back. And now the Bitch was here. Had she called? She couldn’t remember. But if she had the money, where was Avery? Why hadn’t she just given Helena the money? How many times had she begged for the money?
The Bitch didn’t care. She took Ed. She had said that Ed needed to go to school. Because he was different. And now Avery had left her because she had failed. She had not gotten the money, and she had let them take Ed, and now Avery didn’t love her.

“Shhh. Darling, it’s all right. I’m here with you. Oh, Helena, don’t cry.”

She didn’t want her; why wouldn’t she go away?

“It’s time to take your medicine. The doctor says it will make you feel better.”

There was the cool water. And then there was darkness.

Elm Street. Through the screen door, Helena could see Nick reading on the back steps.

“I’ve mixed up the days again. It wasn’t the day for meat. I have some canned corn, or at least I think it’s canned corn.”

Nick looked up from her book, arching one of her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Helena laughed. “Oh, stop it. I know I’m hopeless. But this time I have a good excuse.” She pushed the door open and sat down next to her cousin. “I met someone. At the hardware store. They didn’t have any needles for the record player, by the way. All the metal is going to the troops. Mr. Denby really gave me the stink eye, too, like I was some kind of German spy.”

“Maybe we can sharpen the one we have, somehow. It really is too boring. Canned corn and scratched records.”

“Don’t you want to hear about the man I met?”

“Do I? What’s his problem? Flat feet, or just light in the loafers?”

“Don’t be mean. He works for the Office of War Information, in Hollywood. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Thrilling, darling. Does he have any record needles? Now, that really would be exciting.”

“No, but he’s invited me to dinner. And he thinks I’m beautiful, like Jane Russell.”

“Jane Russell indeed.” Nick looked at her and then laughed. She threw her book on the grass and put her arms around Helena. “You are beautiful. Very. In your own way. But not like that trampy Jane Russell.”

Helena leaned her head against Nick’s. “A date.”

“Yes, a date.”

“I haven’t been on a date since Fen.” Helena lifted her head and looked at her cousin. “Can I ask you a big favor? May I borrow your stockings? I know they’re your last pair.”

“You may have my stockings, darling. My contribution to the war effort. This calls for a celebration. Get out the gin and the jelly glasses and I will go find those damn stockings.”

Helena was already sipping her gin when Nick came back into the kitchen, her mouth turned down in a vaudeville version of sadness.

“Darling, I have some bad news. I think you better come with me.”

Helena followed Nick back into the small, cramped bathroom. On the curtain rod above the bathtub hung an empty hanger. Helena looked at Nick, who pointed solemnly to the bottom of the tub. She peered in at what appeared to be a pile of brown dust.

“It seems the stockings have gone on to a better place,” Nick said.

“Well, for heaven’s sakes.” Helena looked up at her cousin. “They disintegrated? That’s just … tragic.”

“I know.”

“What on earth should we do?”

“Well, I think we should give them a decent burial.”

“It’s only Christian,” Helena said.

“I will prepare the ground, you should choose the procession music, since they were to be yours, darling.” Nick scooped up the dust pile and held it in her skirt.

Helena chose a record and when Nick gave her the nod from the yard, Helena put the worn needle to the vinyl.

She saw Nick throw her head back in laughter when the music floated out the window.

“Oh, Helena, I do love you,” her cousin called to her. “The
Moonlight Sonata?
Really, you’re too much.”

Helena opened her eyes. For a moment, she thought she was alone.

The room felt so empty. Her palms itched, the soles of her feet itched, she ached. Her pillow was wet through. Had she been crying? Then she smelled cigarette smoke. It made her sick. And she could hear snuffling somewhere behind her.

“Yes, I found him. It was all so sordid, he was shacked up with some tramp in a rat hole in town. You should have seen his face when he opened the door. So goddamn smug, like he was expecting me.” Helena held her breath. The Bitch was talking about Avery. She had to listen very carefully, she couldn’t fall asleep again.

“Hughes, we have to sell the cottage. No, we can’t afford it. He named his price and I accepted. There was nothing to be done for it. She can live off the rest. We’ll still have to pay for the hospital and for Ed’s school.”

Helena felt a peace coming over her; Avery had gotten the money. Now he would come back for her. It was all going to be all right.

“Well, what else can we do? Don’t you think I feel sick about it? I could kill him. The worst is that he got what he wanted in the end. And don’t even get me started on that vile Fox man. The money from my father’s cottage is going straight into his pocket. Remember all that ‘collection’ business? Well, you should have seen all the junk in their house, like a sad little garage sale. Like some goddamn shrine. It was disgusting.”

She was snuffling again.

“I hate myself for abandoning her to him.”

The Bitch and all her pious self-pity, as if she wouldn’t have chewed Helena up and spit her out a long time ago, if it weren’t for Avery.

“Did you make the arrangements? Yes, and what did Dr. Monty
say? Hughes, I know Dr. Monty’s an idiot, but he’s our idiot. At least she’ll be in a decent, respectable institution where she can get some help, until she’s strong enough.”