hr.thecarpetbaggers-第2节

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d　into　them　and　started　out　across　the　field　after　Nevada。
　I　hate　shoes。　They　don't　let　you　breathe。
　
　2
　
　I　KEPT　RAISING　SMALL　CLOUDS　OF　SAND　WITH　THE　huarachos　as　I　walked　toward　the　factory。　The　faint　clinical　smell　of　the　sulphur　they　used　in　making　gunpowder　came　to　my　nose。　It　was　the　same　kind　of　smell　that　was　in　the　hospital　the　night　I　took　her　there。　It　wasn't　at　all　the　kind　of　smell　there　was　the　night　we　made　the　baby。
　It　was　cool　and　clean　that　night。　And　there　was　the　smell　of　the　ocean　and　the　surf　that　came　in　through　the　open　windows　of　the　small　cottage　I　kept　out　at　Malibu。　But　in　the　room　there　was　nothing　but　the　exciting　scent　of　the　girl　and　her　wanting。
　We　had　gone　into　the　bedroom　and　stripped　with　the　fierce　urgency　in　our　vitals。　She　was　quicker　than　I　and　now　she　was　on　the　bed；　looking　up　at　me　as　I　opened　the　dresser　drawer　and　took　out　a　package　of　rubbers。
　Her　voice　was　a　whisper　in　the　night。　〃Don't；　Joney。　Not　this　time。〃
　I　looked　at　her。　The　bright　Pacific　moon　threw　its　light　in　the　window。　Only　her　face　was　in　shadows。　Somehow；　what　she　said　brought　the　fever　up。
　The　bitch　must　have　sensed　it。　She　reached　for　me　and　kissed　me。　〃I　hate　those　damn　things；　Joney。　I　want　to　feel　you　inside　me。〃
　I　hesitated　a　moment。　She　pulled　me　down　on　top　of　her。　Her　voice　whispered　in　my　ear。　〃Nothing　will　happen；　Joney。　I'll　be　careful。〃
　Then　I　couldn't　wait　any　longer　and　her　whisper　changed　into　a　sudden　cry　of　pain。　I　couldn't　breathe　and　she　kept　crying　in　my　ear；　〃I　love　you；　Joney。　I　love　you；　Joney。〃
　She　loved　me　all　right。　She　loved　me　so　good　that　five　weeks　later　she　tells　me　we　got　to　get　married。　We　were　sitting　in　the　front　seat　of　my　car　this　time；　driving　back　from　the　football　game。　I　looked　over　at　her。　〃What　for？〃
　She　looked　up　at　me。　She　wasn't　frightened；　not　then。　She　was　too　sure　of　herself。　Her　voice　was　almost　flippant。　〃The　usual　reason。　What　other　reason　does　a　fellow　and　a　girl　get　married　for？〃
　My　voice　turned　bitter。　I　knew　when　I'd　been　taken。　〃Sometimes　it's　because　they　want　to　get　married。〃
　〃Well；　I　want　to　get　married。〃　She　moved　closer　to　me。　
　I　pushed　her　back　on　the　seat。　〃Well；　I　don't。〃　
　She　began　to　cry　then。　〃But　you　said　you　loved　me。〃　
　I　didn't　look　at　her。　〃A　man　says　a　lot　of　things　when　he's　humping。〃　I　pulled　the　car　over　against　the　curb　and　parked。　I　turned　to　her。　〃I　thought　you　said　you'd　be　careful。〃
　She　was　wiping　at　her　tears　with　a　small；　ineffectual　handkerchief。　〃I　love　you；　Joney。　I　wanted　to　have　your　baby。〃
　For　the　first　time　since　she　told　me；　I　began　to　feel　better。　That　was　one　of　the　troubles　with　being　Jonas　Cord；　Jr。　Too　many　girls；　and　their　mothers；　too；　thought　that　spelled　money。　Big　money。　Ever　since　the　war；　when　my　father　built　an　empire　on　gunpowder。
　I　looked　down　at　her。　〃Then　it's　simple。　Have　it。〃
　Her　expression　changed。　She　moved　toward　me。　〃You　mean　…　you　mean　…　we'll　get　married？〃
　The　faint　look　of　triumph　in　her　eyes　faded　quickly　when　I　shook　my　head。　〃Uh…uh。　I　meant　have　the　baby　if　you　want　it　that　bad。〃
　She　pulled　away　again。　Suddenly；　her　face　was　set　and　cold。　Her　voice　was　calm　and　practical。　〃I　don't　want　it　that　bad。　Not　without　a　ring　on　my　finger。　I'll　have　to　get　rid　of　it。〃
　I　grinned　and　offered　her　a　cigarette。　〃Now　you're　talking；　little　girl。〃
　She　took　the　cigarette　and　I　lit　it　for　her。　〃But　it's　going　to　be　expensive；〃　she　said。
　〃How　much？〃　I　asked。
　She　drew　in　a　mouthful　of　smoke。　〃There's　a　doctor　in　Mexican　Town。　The　girls　say　he's　very　good。〃　She　looked　at　me　questioningly。　〃Two　hundred？〃
　〃O。K。；　you　got　it；〃　I　said　quickly。　It　was　a　bargain。　The　last　one　cost　me　three　fifty。　I　flipped　my　cigarette　over　the　side　of　the　car　and　started　the　motor。　I　pulled　the　car　out　into　traffic　and　headed　toward　Malibu。
　〃Hey；　where　you　going？〃　she　asked。
　I　looked　over　at　her。　〃To　the　beach　house；〃　I　answered。　〃We　might　as　well　make　the　most　of　the　situation。〃
　She　began　to　laugh　and　drew　closer　to　me。　She　looked　up　into　my　face。　〃I　wonder　what　Mother　would　say　if　she　knew　just　how　far　I　went　to　get　you。　She　told　me　not　to　miss　a　trick。〃
　I　laughed。　〃You　didn't。〃
　She　shook　her　head。　〃Poor　Mother。　She　had　the　wedding　all　planned。〃
　Poor　Mother。　Maybe　if　the　old　bitch　had　kept　her　mouth　shut　her　daughter　might　have　been　alive　today。
　It　was　the　night　after　that　about　eleven　thirty；　that　my　telephone　began　to　ring。　I　had　just　about　fogged　off　and　I　cursed；　reaching　for　the　phone。
　Her　voice　came　through　in　a　scared　whisper。　〃Joney；　I'm　bleeding。〃
　The　sleep　shot　out　of　my　head　like　a　bullet。　〃What's　the　matter？〃
　〃I　went　down　to　Mexican　Town　this　afternoon　and　now　something's　wrong。　I　haven't　stopped　bleeding　and　I'm　frightened。〃　I　sat　up　in　bed。　〃Where　are　you？〃
　〃I　checked　into　the　Westwood　Hotel　this　afternoon。　Room　nine…o…one。〃
　〃Get　back　into　bed。　I'll　be　right　down。〃　
　〃Please　hurry；　Joney。　Please。〃
　The　Westwood　is　a　mercial　hotel　in　downtown　L。A。　Nobody　even　looked　twice　when　I　went　up　in　the　elevator　without　announcing　myself　at　the　desk。　I　stopped　in　front　of　Room　901　and　tried　the　door。　It　was　unlocked。　I　went　in。
　I　never　saw　so　much　blood　in　my　life。　It　was　all　over　the　cheap　carpeting　on　the　floor；　the　chair　in　which　she　had　sat　when　she　called　me；　the　white　sheets　on　the　bed。
　She　was　lying　on　the　bed　and　her　face　was　as　white　as　the　pillow　under　her　head。　Her　eyes　had　been　closed　but　they　flickered　open　when　I　came　over。　Her　lips　moved　but　no　sound　came　out。
　I　bent　over　her。　〃Don't　try　to　talk；　baby。　I'll　get　a　doctor。　You're　gonna　be　all　right。〃
　She　closed　her　eyes　and　I　went　over　to　the　phone。　There　was　no　use　in　just　calling　a　doctor。　My　father　wasn't　going　to　be　happy　if　I　got　our　name　into　the　papers　again。　I　called　McAllister。　He　was　the　attorney　who　handled　the　firm's　business　in　California。
　His　butler　called　him　to　the　phone。　I　tried　to　keep　my　voice　calm。　〃I　need　a　doctor　and　an　ambulance　quick。〃
　In　less　than　a　moment；　I　understood　why　my　father　used　Mac。　He　didn't　waste　any　time　on　useless　questions。　Just　where；　when　and　who。　No　why。　His　voice　was　precise。　〃A　doctor　and　an　ambulance　will　be　there　in　ten　minutes。　I　advise　you　to　leave　now。　There's　no　point　in　your　getting　any　more　involved　than　you　are。〃
　I　thanked　him　and　put　down　the　phone。　I　glanced　over　at　the　bed。　Her　eyes　were　closed　and　she　appeared　to　be　sleeping。　I　started　for　the　door　and　her　eyes　opened。　
　〃Don't　go；　Joney。　I'm　afraid。〃
　I　went　back　to　the　bed　and　sat　down　beside　it。　I　took　her　hand　and　she　closed　her　eyes　again。　The　ambulance　was　there　in　ten　minutes。　And　she　didn't　let　go　of　my　hand　until　we'd　reached　the　hospital。
　
　3
　
　I　WALKED　INTO　THE　FACTORY　AND　THE　NOISE　and　the　smell　closed　in　on　me　like　a　cocoon。　I　could　feel　the　momentary　stoppage　of　work　as　I　walked　by　and　I　could　hear　the　subdued　murmur　of　voices　following　me。
　〃El　hijo。〃
　The　son。　That　was　how　they　knew　me。　They　spoke　of　me　with　a　fondness　and　a　pride；　as　their　ancestors　had　of　the　children　of　their　patrones。　It　gave　them　a　sense　of　identity　and　belonging　that　helped　make　up　for　the　meager　way　in　which　they　had　to　live。
　I　walked　past　the　mixing　vats；　the　presses　and　the　molds　and　reached　the　back　stairway　to　my　father's　office。　I　started　up　the　steps　and　looked　back　at　them。　A　hundred　faces　smiled　up　at　me。　I　waved　my　hand　and　smiled　back　at　them　in　the　same　way　I　had　always　done；　ever　since　I　first　climbed　those　steps　when　I　was　a　kid。
　I　went　through　the　door　at　the　top　of　the　stairway　and　the　noise　was　gone　as　soon　as　the　door　closed　behind　me。　I　walked　down　the　short　corridor　and　into　my　father's　outer　office。
　Denby　was　sitting　at　his　desk；　scribbling　a　note　in　his　usual　fluttery　fashion。　A　girl　sat　at　a　desk　across　from　him；　beating　hell　out　of　a　typewriter。　Two　other　persons　were　seated　on　the　visitor's　couch。　A　man　and　a　woman。
　The　woman　was　dressed　in　black　and　she　was　twisting　a　small　white　handkerchief　in　her　hands。　She　looked　up　at　me　as　I　stood　in　the　doorway。　I　didn't　have　to　be　told　who　she　was。　The　girl　looked　enough　like　her　mother。　I　met　her　eyes　and　she　turned　her　head　away。
　Denby　got　up　nervously。　〃Your　father's　waiting。〃
　I　didn't　answer。　He　opened　the　door　to　my　father's　office　and　I　walked　through。　He　closed　the　door　behind　me。　I　looked　around　the　office。
　Nevada　was　leaning　against　the　left　wall　bookcase；　his　eyes　half　closed　in　that　deceptive　manner　of　alertness　peculiar　to　him。　McAllister　was　seated　in　a　chair　across　from　my　father。　He　turned　his　head　to　look　at　me。　My　father　sat　behind　the　immense　old　oak　desk　and　glared。　Outside　of　that；　the　office　was　just　as　I　remembered　it。
　The　dark　oak…paneled　walls；　the　heavy　leather　chairs。　The　green　velvet　drapes　on　the　windows　and　the　picture　of　my　father　and　President　Wilson　on　the　wall　behind　the　desk。　At　my　father's　side　was　the　telephone　table　with　the　three　telephones　and　right　next　to　it　was　the　table　with　the　ever　present　carafe　of　water；　bottle　of　bourbon　whisky　and　two　glasses。　The　whisky　bottle　was　about　one…third　filled。　That　made　it　about　three　o'clock。　I　checked　my　watch。　It　was　ten　after　three。　My　father　was　a　bottl