Bright Young Things Part 11

"Oh!"

"But-"

"Tell us," chorused her roommates, as they pushed themselves up and inclined themselves toward her. But she was already hurriedly crossing the alcove by the entry. She pulled a cocoa-colored felt cloche over her bob and pulled open the door. us," chorused her roommates, as they pushed themselves up and inclined themselves toward her. But she was already hurriedly crossing the alcove by the entry. She pulled a cocoa-colored felt cloche over her bob and pulled open the door.

"I'll be back later!" she called with a frantic wave of the hand, and then she went out of the dim bas.e.m.e.nt and into the day.

As she came up onto the sidewalk, her embarra.s.sment and sorrow began to ebb, and with it her desperate need to flee. She paused there on that narrow, curving street, in the kindly shadow of the two-and three-story brick townhouses and the tall trees in full leaf overhead.

That was when she saw Grady Lodge across the street, leaning against his black roadster, with his hands in his pockets.

A floppy cap created a wedge of shadow on his face, but it could not hide the patient yearning in his deep-set gray eyes. He was wearing the tweed trousers of a knickerbocker suit, his rust-colored socks visible to his knees, although the jacket was nowhere in sight. That was what they called "natty," Letty supposed, except that everything about him was just slightly askew.

"h.e.l.lo there!" he called.

Feeling bashful again, she glanced behind her, but the curtains to her apartment remained drawn. Seeing him in the daylight was peculiar, but she was happy now to have been given a direction. With a little feint of surprise, she let out an "Oh ... h.e.l.lo!" and then crossed to him.

He reached out for her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"How did you know where I live?" she asked when he brought his eyes up to look at her again.

"Your friend Paulette told me last night," he explained. "Maybe she felt sorry for me, when she realized how many hours I'd sat at the bar waiting to talk to you ..."

For a moment he appeared to lose himself in looking at her, so Letty simply smiled in a girlish way and waited for him to say something more.

"... and when I woke up this morning, I thought perhaps, you being from Ohio and all, you would like a tour of the city."

Reasons why not brimmed in her throat. But the day was was lovely, just as she had told her roommates, and she had after all not ventured very far beyond Greenwich Village. Cordelia seemed to be going everywhere, and why shouldn't she? "Well, all right, but I haven't got the whole day," she said, trying not to sound too eager. lovely, just as she had told her roommates, and she had after all not ventured very far beyond Greenwich Village. Cordelia seemed to be going everywhere, and why shouldn't she? "Well, all right, but I haven't got the whole day," she said, trying not to sound too eager.

A grin filled his boyish face. "I'll take you for as long as you can spare."

Hurrying around the side of the car, he opened the door for her, posing in a courtly way until she was settled in. Once he'd secured the door behind her, he came around and started up the car. For a brief while she felt nervous and a little shy, sitting in a car with a stranger, but eventually the sights drew her in. They drove down blocks where every storefront was filled with flowers by the bucket, and streets where the signs were in red Chinese lettering.

Perhaps sensing how foreign these sights were to her, he said, "You're awfully brave to come all this way by yourself."

"Oh ... I didn't," Letty replied. "I came with a girl named Cordelia, but we don't know each other anymore."

Grady glanced at her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "Perhaps I could help you find her?"

"That's very kind, but-but-I don't think she cares about me anymore. You see, she came in the club last night, but left as soon as she caught sight of me."

"I can't imagine anyone not wanting to know you."

"Oh, that's very kind," Letty told him, pus.h.i.+ng aside the melancholy that had crept into her dreams. The day was so pretty and the city so full, and she didn't want to be sorry over anything-and anyway, it felt good to tell someone about Cordelia and her unkind departure. "I've made better friends since then," she said brightly.

When she announced she was hungry, they pulled alongside a street vendor's cart and Grady bought hot dogs, and they ate them as they drove up and down the shady roads and grand tunnels that ran through the big park at the center of the city.

"This is what they call the Central Park ..." Grady's attentive gray eyes traveled from the road and back to her.

"It looks like it goes on forever!" Letty said between bites of soft bread and juicy meat. "How many blocks is it?"

Grady paused and then admitted, "I don't know ..." He reddened and gave her one of his easy smiles. "But I promise I'll find out. Many, I suppose. It's its own little kingdom; you can get lost in there, you know."

The canopy of green over her head rustled in such a peaceful, quiet way that for a moment she forgot that she was in a city at all. Elegant women with mincing walks followed poodles on leashes, and children clutching balloons begged for treats from their fathers, and all the while the sky above remained an impervious blue. She had taken long drives before, but never ones that were so aimless and leisurely, and never ones with such grand scenery.

They changed directions, going downhill somewhat and driving through the low-lying areas by the water, past loading docks and factories puffing smoke and little forgotten structures crammed onto the island at its edges. Ferries made their way across the river, and men smeared with grease idled in front of garages.

"I apologize for having taken this route," Grady said, chagrined, as they motored through a particularly industrial patch.

"But why would you be sorry?" Letty exclaimed. Whatever filth lay heavy in the air, she could not help but feel thrilled by the very mult.i.tude of smokestacks and brightly colored tugboats, the distant yelling of working men, the far-off blaring of maritime horns. "I think it's beautiful here. In fact, it's such a nice day, I wouldn't mind putting my toes in ..."

"Not here!" A shade of worry crossed Grady's face at the very suggestion. "No, no, no-the water and the sh.o.r.eline here are dirty in ten different ways. I would not not let you go down there, even with an army of bodyguards, even with a fleet of Sherpas to hold you up above the muck." let you go down there, even with an army of bodyguards, even with a fleet of Sherpas to hold you up above the muck."

Letty put her elbow against the back of her seat and gazed behind them at the receding view of the water. The area that they were heading into now was one of higher buildings, and the river, though still pungent, was no longer so visible. Disappointment bore down for a minute on the corners of her mouth, but it pa.s.sed quickly, and the sentiment of what he had said began to sink in and create a decided glow along her cheekbones. For Grady-though he was only a writer, and though his humble face did not create such wild disturbances in her breast-thought that she was worthy of being carried like a queen.

"I know a pretty spot where we can go down close to the water-I still don't believe you should put your toes in, but maybe for a look-see."

So Letty smiled, and they sailed on. He took them on a looping route, through streets whose sidewalks were crowded out with produce stands, streets where the smell of onion was heavy in the air, streets paved with cobblestone.

Eventually they puttered to a stop under the shadow of an enormous bridge.

"Where are we?" she said, as he helped her out of the car.

"Just a place where I like to come and gaze at the borough of Brooklyn, from time to time, when I'm thinking of Walt Whitman ..." Grady closed his eyes and inhaled a deep, contented breath.

Letty's legs felt a little wobbly after so long in the shaking, rumbling automobile, but Grady offered her his arm. As they headed toward the water, she saw the spans of two other enormous bridges, stretching all the way across the river to where she could just make out the houses and factories and piers on the other side.

As they walked, she listened to the lapping of the water and the scattering of debris underfoot-but the tranquility was broken by the sound of two thunderlike claps. A shudder pa.s.sed from the sides of her skull down to her toes. The howling of two or three dogs followed, as if in furious confirmation that some very violent deed had been done.

"Oh!" she gasped, and she put her hands up against Grady's chest.

They hurried forward and saw a car parked under the wall of the bridge. A man's wide back faced them-he was bent, examining something, so that his large rear was pointed toward the span above. Then he stood, lifting the sleek, limp body of a creature and hurling it onto a pile of similar, lifeless forms. When Letty gasped again, the man glanced briefly in their direction.

"Get out of here," he said in a tone that was equal parts gruff and weary, before looking away. He opened the door to the car, and the howling started up again. For a minute or so he struggled, and then slammed the door, holding tight to a dog's leash. At its end was a very skittish greyhound, long legs quavering and eyes rolling in terror. The man pulled, jerking the frightened animal away from the car and c.o.c.king his gun.

"He's going to kill that poor animal," she whispered desperately to Grady, who had already put his arm around her, gently trying to goad her back. But her chin had begun to quiver, and her feet were quite stubbornly planted. "Look!" She couldn't find words for what they were about to witness. "Do "Do something." something."

"I don't think-" he began, as the greyhound shook and whimpered.

"Stop him!" she persisted. "Listen-the dog's crying." crying."

The man, whose white collared s.h.i.+rt had grown see-through in places with sweat, and whose jowls were shaded by stubble, raised his gun and fired twice. The dog's elegant legs collapsed, and then the whimpering was over.

"Oh!" This time Letty's cry had become low and guttural-true wailing. The succinct cruelty of the big man's movements was so terrible that for a moment she felt it was her skin that had been ripped apart, her own blood that would now begin to spill.

Inside the car, a lone dog yelped, its paws clawing desperately at the window.

The man straightened and shook the casings out of his gun. He stuffed his hand in his pocket and produced another handful of s.h.i.+ning bullets, which he slipped one at a time into the chamber, before clicking it closed. "I told you to get out of here."

Grady glanced down at Letty, his eyes glazed with fear. "I think we should go."

She gave a furious shake of her head.

"Why are you killing those dogs?" she demanded, walking several lengths toward the big man.

"Because they're old, and they don't run fast anymore, and they're no use to me now," he replied, with a kind of resigned menace, as though it were obvious and he were irritated at having to explain himself. Then he opened the car and grabbed the leash of the final dog, who jumped to the ground and began das.h.i.+ng in circles around the man until the leash had ensnared both of them.

Untying himself required several clumsy attempts, and perhaps after that Grady was not quite so frightened of him. "She looks pretty fast to me," he told the big man.

"Yeah, well, everyone runs fast when they're scared for their life," the man muttered back.

"Do you operate a racetrack concern, sir?" Grady continued, returning to his usual buoyant, educated way of speaking, and putting on a smile.

"Something like that," the man replied, yanking at the leash and pulling the dog closer to her fallen brethren.

"Mister, please don't kill that dog," Letty implored.

"Don't give me that act, princess." The man c.o.c.ked his gun. Letty brought her hands to her face, bracing for tears.

"Stop!" She heard Grady's steps as he hurried forward. "Please stop. What do you want for her? A dollar? Five? Please don't kill that dog."

Cracking one eye, and peeking through her pinkie and ring finger, Letty caught a glimpse of Grady as he begged the man. The greyhound whimpered, her head swaying back and forth, her paws sc.r.a.ping the ground in agitation.

"You'll take her off my hands?" the man said eventually.

"Yes," Grady replied.

Letty's hands fell from her face, and she clasped them in front of her heart.

"I'll never hear from either of you again?"

"No." Grady shook his head perhaps a few more times than were necessary.

Letty rushed forward and bent on her knees, taking the dog's face in her hands; her lovely brown eyes were wary for a few seconds, but then once the man had handed Letty the end of the leash, she began gently pawing the front of Letty's dress and licking her face.

"Five dollars," the man said irritably.

"Yes, of course, right." Grady went fis.h.i.+ng in his wallet. "Here you are."

Letty came to her feet and narrowed her eyes at the man. "Come on, gorgeous," she said to the dog, and then began to walk at a rapid clip away from the horrid scene.

"Thank you!" Grady called out as he hurried along behind her.

"Don't thank him!" she admonished, and then immediately felt bad for speaking harshly. "I-I'm sorry. Thank you, Mr. Lodge. I'm very-" She paused, looking down at the animal's sleek snout. "We're "We're very grateful. I will pay you back every penny." very grateful. I will pay you back every penny."

Grady must have been truly frightened, for there was a little quaver in his voice when he spoke again. "Don't mention it. Only-I won't be taking you to any more secret places anytime soon."

The light was going out of the day by then, and they both agreed he should be getting her home. All the way she cradled her new pet, who alternated between trembling and licking her face.

"Thank you so much again, Mr. Lodge," Letty said when they slowed to a stop on Barrow Street. "It's been quite an afternoon."

"It has." He had been quieter than usual on the drive home, but seemed to be regaining his composure now. With his fingers on the brim of his cap, he made a few nervous adjustments. "I hope you'll let me take you out again sometime."

"Yes." She bit her lower lip and gave him a sincere smile. "I'd like that."

"There's one other thing I wanted to tell you ..."

"Yes?" she said sweetly, though she didn't like what his expression augured.

"I saw you talking to Amory Glenn, and I just wanted to say ..." Grady averted his eyes awkwardly. "I've known people who know him well, and-he's not a good egg."

Letty blinked for a moment, and another car swerved onto the street and pa.s.sed them before she thought to laugh. "Oh, don't worry about me, Mr. Lodge! I know a thing or two, and I can spot a good egg when I see one." She crouched, nuzzling the dog's face. "And this is a good egg. That's what we'll call you: Good Egg Larkspur!"

When she stood again, her eyes were misted, and she shrugged at the wonder of it all. "See you at your usual end of the bar, Mr. Lodge!" She blew him a kiss as though she were a big star, and ran across the street with Good Egg loping ahead of her, feeling altogether ready for the next chapter of her day.

17

CORDELIA'S FIRST WEEK AS THE DAUGHTER OF A famous bootlegger was nearing its close, and she was beginning to see that parental love comes with its own irritations. Her father had been true to his word; she was not allowed off the property. Two days in one place is a long time for any young person, especially one with a formidable curiosity, especially if that person happens to be a girl who is learning for the first time that lovesick lovesick is not a figure of speech or an old wives' tale. The idea of Thom Hale made her feverish and ruined her appet.i.te, and she'd had to excuse herself from dinner early the night before because she couldn't think of any words besides is not a figure of speech or an old wives' tale. The idea of Thom Hale made her feverish and ruined her appet.i.te, and she'd had to excuse herself from dinner early the night before because she couldn't think of any words besides Thom Thom and and Hale, Hale, and was afraid she would make her obsessions obvious if she opened her mouth again. All night she turned in bed, her temperature going from hot to cold. She couldn't love him, she knew, not after just one night with him-but if it wasn't love, she didn't know what to call the jittery longing that was making it impossible to sleep or sit in one place very long. and was afraid she would make her obsessions obvious if she opened her mouth again. All night she turned in bed, her temperature going from hot to cold. She couldn't love him, she knew, not after just one night with him-but if it wasn't love, she didn't know what to call the jittery longing that was making it impossible to sleep or sit in one place very long.

Plus, there was the sad fact that now she knew where Letty was, and she couldn't even visit her. How she would have loved to see her old friend's entire act, and congratulate her on her great success, and tell her how ridiculous their fight had been!

Her movements were curtailed even further by the knowledge that her brother was always at Dogwood now, too. She couldn't be angry at her father, really-he'd been kind to her, despite her dishonesty. But Charlie had been odious, and she had come to think of him as the single reason that Thom was now probably petrified of phoning her. She supposed Charlie had had it in for her since that first night at Seventh Heaven, before either of them had known they were family. But on the second day of her imprisonment, when she came back from a long walk on the grounds, she found that she wasn't going to be able to avoid him after all, because he was clearly seeking her out.

"Have you talked to Astrid?" he barked as she came up the rise toward the front of the house.

Cordelia paused, looking rather like a lady golfer in her sporty white dress with the sleeveless, crew-neck bodice and the accordion pleats on the skirt. The directness of his address surprised her, as did his misguided notion that she might share information with him, after the things he'd said. "Maybe, but it's really none of your business."

Charlie had been coming from the garage and was now striding toward where she stood on the gravel. When he arrived at her side, they began walking in the direction of the house. The sun was high in the sky, and it almost seemed as though golden dust was floating on the air.

"Come on, she's driving me crazy," Charlie went on, and though his voice was still a touch bullying, there was a pleading to it, too. "She won't take my calls."

Cordelia sighed. Against her better judgment, she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him-after all, she felt crazy, too. "I've talked to her. She's angry with you." When she saw Charlie hanging his head and nodding, she added a touch more gently, "I haven't known Astrid as long as you have, but it seems to me that she's not one to budge when she's been wronged."

"You're right about that. But she hasn't hasn't been wronged," he replied quickly. "I don't even know what she's angry about." been wronged," he replied quickly. "I don't even know what she's angry about."

"Perhaps." Cordelia glanced at Charlie dubiously and considered telling him about the discovery of the other night, and how Astrid knew that a mysterious girl had been in his bedroom. Although she did have to admit, to herself at least, that the Greys threw a lot of parties, and she supposed the earring really could have come from anywhere. "But I don't think that matters very much now."

"No, I guess not. She can be awfully stubborn. But don't think Astrid's sullen or selfish," Charlie went on as they moved into the shadow of the house. "She values you."

Though his statement made Cordelia happy, she responded with a cool "Why do you suppose that is?"