Caine Mutiny, The - Herman Wouk [20]
May stumbled during the last strains of the song. At the end there was a storm of hand-clapping. She hurried back to her seat without bowing. The three-piece dance orchestra struck up, and couples jammed the floor. “First time I ever blew up like that,” she muttered to Willie.
“It was wonderful, May.”
“I’m ready to fight now,” said the girl, draining her flat drink. “I don’t want to see you any more.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t call me again at the candy store. I won’t come to the telephone.”
“Why? Why?”
“Let me put it another way-will you marry me?”
Willie pressed his lips together, and looked down at the glass in his hands. The trumpeter blew deafeningly into the microphone and dancers joggled their table. May said, “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t expect you to. This is all my fault. You played it straight when you told me your pedigree over the pizzas. I was having a wonderful time until recently and I didn’t care. But somewhere along the line I made a terrible mistake. I forgot I was Tootsie Weaver-”
“Look, May-”
“Oh, sure, skinnier, younger, and somewhat more presentable-would you take either of us home to meet your mother?”
“May, we’re both kids-I’ll be out to sea in three months-”
“I know. You’re a darling, Willie. I hope you find a wonderful girl someday. I just don’t want another three months as Tootsie. I don’t want another evening of it. Not another minute, in fact.” Her eyes filled with tears, and she stood. “Never let it be said I earned you any demerits. Let’s go.”
They went out and climbed into a taxi, and fell into the most racking kisses they had ever exchanged. It was not pleasure, it was torment which neither could stop. The taxi drew up under the street lamp at the entrance to Furnald Hall. Willie’s wrist showed eleven twenty-five. “Keep going,” he said chokingly to the driver.
“Where to, mister?”
“I don’t care. Up and down Riverside Drive. Just so we get back here by midnight.”
“Right, mister.”
The driver started his motor and slid the glass panel closed between himself and his passengers. The taxi plunged downhill to the Drive. There were more kisses and broken futile words. May held Willie’s head comfortingly to her bosom, and stroked his hair. “Sometimes I think you like me,” she said.
“I don’t know why God makes human jellyfish like Willie Keith-”
“You know what Marty Rubin says?”
“Damn Marty Rubin.”
“You don’t know it, Willie, but he’s a friend of yours.” Willie sat up. “This whole mess started with him.”
“I asked him what I ought to do about you.”
“And be said throw me out.”
“No. He says he thinks you really love me.”
“Well, hooray for Marty.”
“He wondered whether I would become more acceptable to your mother if I enrolled in college.”
Willie was astounded. Moaning and protesting his undying love was one thing. But this was a serious matter.
“I could do it,” said May eagerly. “I could still get into the February class at Hunter. I had good marks in high school though you do consider me an ignoramus. I even have a Regents’ scholarship, if it’s still good. Marty says he can get me enough bookings in and around New- York to keep me going. I only work nights, anyway.”
Willie wanted to spar for time. His beautiful prize was drifting within reach again, but on sobering terms. May regarded him with lustrous, hopeful eyes. Her hard-boiled wariness was all gone.
“Could you stand going back to school?”
“I’m pretty tough,” she said.
Willie realized that she spoke truly. She was not a companion for good times any more, but a challenger to his mother for his life. It had all changed in a few minutes; he was dizzied. “I’ll tell you God’s truth, May. I don’t think it would make a particle of difference to my mother.