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PART II
ELEVATOR TO THE GALLOWS

75

O C T O B E R   1 9 2 9

A WEEK AFTER Mr. Morello’s visit to the speak, Marina and Trey were getting ready to go to Independence for Dot’s Tuesday night activity. The boys and men were playing baseball and Trey wanted to go. Marina intended to do nothing but sit in the stands and chat with Dot. The Relief Society was still studying poetry and Marina didn’t like poetry.

“Trey,” Marina called as she was fixing her hair and makeup, “I have to pick up some marmalade at the supermarket and I want to go to the bookstore. May we leave early and do that first?”

“We have to leave now, then. Don’t wanna miss opening pitch.”

“You’re pitching?” she asked, surprised. He was usually the catcher, the person who called the game. Naturally.

“First base. Gio’s pitching.”

At Milgram’s, Trey waited impatiently for her to choose bread, which she would rather bake herself so as not to bruise her pride, but it was still warm, even though it was October. Since Trey didn’t care about bread, and frying bacon was hot enough, she was trying not to make more work for herself.

“Maybe you could go get coffee?” Marina suggested.

“Good idea!” he said, leaving her to her thoughts about the bread.

“Best save baking for winter,” she muttered, then pulled two loaves out of the slanted rack, causing more to come sliding out and spill all over the floor. “Oh! Oh my goodness!”

She crouched to pick them up, but had trouble because of her pregnant belly (which didn’t look very pregnant but got in her way enough that she couldn’t forget it). And, as if she were still in school, she began to hear female snickers behind her and felt buggies being pushed around her with snide remarks about her being clumsy and in the way.

“Here, let me help,” came a deep voice from her right.

“Thank you,” she said, near tears as people continued to mock her.

“Why don’t you stand up and I’ll hand you the bread?”

“Yes, yes,” she breathed, then held onto a rack to pull herself up.

“Whoa there!” her helper said, slapping his hand against the rack when it began to tip. He stood and took Marina’s hand, and pulled her to her feet.

Her face went hot. “I’m— I’m sorry. I’m so clumsy and … ”

He was a handsome young man about Mr. Carville’s age, cleverly dressed as if to go off to the country club, and he smiled at her. “I understand. I don’t mind helping out a pretty girl, either.”

She sighed, but he didn’t seem to hear her as he crouched and handed her the bread one loaf at a time. Flattering clothes, hair, and makeup really did make a world of difference in her looks. She didn’t get the kind of attention Dot did and she never would, but this was the second time since she’d been married a man had approached her. Before Trey, it had never happened at all.

“Here you go,” he said, standing, brushing his hands together. He pointed to the tin of macaroons on the floor. “Yours?”

Marina nodded, too embarrassed to speak, as the women in the aisle hadn’t stopped snickering at her.

“Can I go get you a buggy? Help you carry your bread home? Maybe … maybe we could grab a soda?”

“Soda?” Marina asked testily. “We haven’t even been introduced.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. That was too forward, wasn’t it? My name’s Gale.”

“Too forward for a married woman,” came Trey’s voice from the end of the aisle. “Gale.”

Marina’s attention was caught by the women skedaddling out of Trey’s way, and took note that his self-assured presence, the one he put on when he needed to project power, had once again saved her from a pack of hyenas. Her helper had not done that, and she wasn’t sure he’d noticed.

Her helper put his hands up. “Ah, look, pal. She was having some trouble, rack nearly fell on her—”

“Sugga?”

She looked at Trey in a daze, embarrassed by being so clumsy in front of so many people.

“This cat bothering you?”

“No,” she said vaguely. “He’s very nice.”

“Yeah, put the bread and the cookies in the buggy,” Trey commanded darkly, “then scram.”

Marina looked at Trey, whose arms were crossed over his chest. He was, shockingly, smaller than the young man, but he seemed bigger. “He was just being nice.”

Trey slid her a glance. “Did you forget to tell him you’re married?”

Marina’s heart lurched in her chest as she stared at Trey, whose expression was mostly irate with a little embarrassment.

“Look,” the young man said, backing away, his hands up, “I was just helping a nice lady out of a bread avalanche.”

Then he was gone. The rest of the aisle was packed with women who were strangely quiet.

“Couldn’t you have just told him you were married?” he repeated.

Marina stood there in the middle of the supermarket aisle, looking at this man who was so willing to believe she— She gulped. “Can we discuss this at home?” she asked softly.

“Why’n’t we discuss it here,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“I spilled some bread. The rack nearly fell on me. He was just helping. That’s all.”

“He asked you for sodas. A married woman who did not tell him she was married.”

“He was just a young man trying to be helpful!” she whispered hotly, ever aware of the women eavesdropping and not having to strain a bit.

“He ain’t no boy an’ he ain’t one’a Ruthie’s flunkies an’ I already got two cats off your back and now, what, you’re collectin’ ’em, like Dot? You caught my eye before you got all gussied up. Now you’re catchin’ other cats’ eyes, an’ you spend any time talkin’ to ’em an’ they’re gonna fall in love like Carville an’ then you’ll be happy they think you’re pretty.”

“I told you how Mr. Carville makes me feel!” Marina hissed. “I spoke very frankly. Why do you keep—” At the point she knew her words wouldn’t come out right anymore, she stopped.

“Why do I keep what? Gettin’ all het up when you can’t be bothered to tell a cat you’re married like you want a buncha puppy dogs like Dot? Oh, well, y’do. I know y’do. Just, she knows what they want and how to handle ’em, an’ you don’t. That’s how you got here.”

Marina stood numb, staring at Trey blankly, trying to figure out what he was really saying, but she couldn’t—not quite—and waited for him to say more so she could. She was completely humiliated that he was doing this in front of an audience. Did he not see all these women?

He was glaring at her, not speaking, waiting for her to defend herself again. But no. She had to get out, to leave this store and never come back. She could go to any store in the city and never have to see these women again because she had a car and they probably didn’t.

“Well?” he demanded.

“I knew you would hold that against me,” she said quietly.

“Marina—”

“Now that I have been indecent with you, I should wish to be indecent with any man who pays me the slightest attention? Or, if not wish to be, too stupid to know what a man wants in time to run for help? Am I loose or stupid, Trey?”

“I didn’t say you were either! I asked why didn’t you tell him you were married. Immediately.”

“I barely had a chance to say anything,” she said stiffly, hurt, aching really, wishing she’d never met him. One minute he was the most wonderful man in the world. The next he was a ranting beast. “He was helping me and I was being polite to him, the same way I was polite to you when you spoke to me at Kresge’s—”

“Yeah, and see what happened!”

With as much dignity as she could muster, because heaven knew she couldn’t think of a thing to say that she hadn’t already said, Marina turned around and walked away, holding her head high even though she wanted to duck and run. It was the only way she would be able to get through the herd of women.

She heard the buggy rattling behind her, Trey muttering. “I’ll just pay for these here groceries,” he called snidely after her when she walked past the cash register toward the door.

It was a lovely day. Or it had been until Trey had … what? Was he jealous? Was he afraid for her? Was he unsure of her?

Or was she just another loose woman now that she’d been indecent with him, the way she’d feared she’d be, the way he’d promised to try not to think of her?

Just when she thought about feeling her happiness …

Her mind blank, Marina strolled diagonally across the parking lot, then followed a sidewalk between two houses that ended in an alley. Then she strolled to the end of the alley.

“Marina!”

It was far away, barely discernible over the crunch of her shoes on gravel.

“MARINA!”

She had nowhere to go but home. Sister Albright had once told her she couldn’t come running “home” every time she had a fight with Trey, but other than needing company and guidance, she’d never done so. Today …

“Marina?”

She looked to her right and saw Gale in his roadster coasting toward the curb and slowing down to pace her, clearly surprised to see her.

“I apologize for him,” she muttered and kept walking. “He’s—”

“Jealous.”

Marina nodded slowly. “It certainly appears that way.”

“Marina!” It was even farther away now.

“You just walked off? Away from your husband?”

Marina’s mouth flattened and she nodded soberly. “Does he scare you?” she asked lightly.

He hesitated a split second too long. “Of course not. I can lick anybody.”

“Mmm hm.”

“Is he … like that at home?”

“He blusters sometimes,” she said matter-of-factly. “Unfortun­ately, he only tells the whole truth when he’s blustering and it all comes out. If you want to know if he hurts me, no.” Not physically. “He wouldn’t raise a hand to me.” She hoped. “Today I got tired of his bluster.”

“You sound like you need a friend.”

Marina opened her mouth to say that she had two already. But neither of her friends had a kind word to say about the other, so those discussions disintegrated into why she needed to distance herself from the other.

“I’ve never had a friend in whom I could confide what I need to without all sorts of advice and indignance on my behalf, maneuvering me to do what they think I should.”

“That’s very sad.”

“By some standards, I have a very sad life,” Marina returned airily.

“Uh … oh.”

She continued to walk along, only the sound of Gale’s engine interrupting silence, with Marina’s ear cocked to listen for any more of Trey’s bellows.

“Well, uh … I should probably let you get on your way,” said Gale nervously.

“You probably should,” she agreed.

“Are you— Will you be able to get home alone all right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He zoomed off as if she were contagious. She stopped. Sat on the curb. Dropped her head and pulled her knees up to meet her forehead. Sighed heavily.

Being indecent with Trey had been a mistake, never mind her idea to get high so she wouldn’t make him feel like a chore. He still thought of her as a whore.

She honestly didn’t know how she was going to be able to live with him anymore. She didn’t love Trey, but she didn’t hate him, either, and she was not indifferent, which was love’s opposite.

Maybe she should want him to find a woman to get his needs met. Then there would be no question of Marina’s virtue. Maybe she should want him to go back to living at the speak. Maybe she should want to get away from him, from Dot, from the Albrights, and go somewhere where someone really wanted her and would love her and take care of her and …

Well, that sounded a lot like heaven, since Marina couldn’t imagine a place like that existed on Earth. The Albrights’ came close (although it was far too loud and congested with children to be heaven), but Marina was married now and married women had to be self-sufficient, even ones who’d never had a place where they were loved and taken care of. Sister Albright was proof of that.

Except … Sister Albright had a husband who loved her and took care of her as best he could, and she him …

Just like Marina and Trey.

Not just like.

Marina and Trey didn’t love each other. They were never going to.

Trey wanted 1520 Main.

Marina wanted a beau for a little while.

Trey would make her comfortable and support her and their baby.

Marina would make him comfortable and take care of his and their baby’s needs.

It was the best possible outcome for the circumstances, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t ever going to be enough as long as Trey couldn’t decide who she was and what he expected from her. Oh, he wanted her, all right: Like a knickknack, a possession he could hide away because he didn’t want anyone else to see or touch. She didn’t feel safe anymore, that being indecent with him wasn’t a promise or a show of his regard for her. It wasn’t special. It was just what folks did for a whole lot of reasons that all seemed flimsy.

Chore or whore.

And she had her entire life ahead of her.

75

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