Main Street (Barnes & Noble Classics Ser - Sinclair Lewis [218]
He was marching into the hall. Carol flung herself on him, her clenching hand on his hayseed-dusty shoulder. “You horrible old man, you’ve always tried to turn Erik into a slave, to fatten your pocketbook! You’ve sneered at him, and overworked him, and probably you’ve succeeded in preventing his ever rising above your muckheap! And now because you can’t drag him back, you come here to vent———Go tell my husband, go tell him, and don’t blame me when he kills you, when my husband kills you—he will kill you—”
The man grunted, looked at her impassively, said one word, and walked out.
She heard the word very plainly.
She did not quite reach the couch. Her knees gave way, she pitched forward. She heard her mind saying, “You haven’t fainted. This is ridiculous. You’re simply dramatizing yourself. Get up.” But she could not move. When Kennicott arrived she was lying on the couch. His step quickened. “What’s happened, Carrie? You haven’t got a bit of blood in your face.”
She clutched his arm. “You’ve got to be sweet to me, and kind! I’m going to California—mountains, sea. Please don’t argue about it, because I’m going.”
Quietly, “All right. We’ll go. You and I. Leave the kid here with Aunt Bessie.”
“Now!”
“Well yes, just as soon as we can get away. Now don’t talk any more. Just imagine you’ve already started.” He smoothed her hair, and not till after supper did he continue: “I meant it about California. But I think we better wait three weeks or so, till I get hold of some young fellow released from the medical corps to take my practice. And if people are gossiping, you don’t want to give them a chance by running away. Can you stand it and face ’em for three weeks or so?”
“Yes,” she said emptily.
IV
People covertly stared at her on the street. Aunt Bessie tried to catechize her about Erik’s disappearance, and it was Kennicott who silenced the woman with a savage, “Say, are you hinting that Carrie had anything to do with that fellow’s beating it? Then let me tell you, and you can go right out and tell the whole bloomin’ town, that Carrie and I took Val—took Erik riding, and he asked me about getting a better job in Minneapolis, and I advised him to go to it.... Getting much sugar in at the store now?”
Guy Pollock crossed the street to be pleasant apropos of California and new novels. Vida Sherwin dragged her to the Jolly Seventeen. There, with every one rigidly listening, Maud Dyer shot at Carol, “I hear Erik has left town.”
Carol was amiable. “Yes; so I hear. In fact, he called me up—told me he had been offered a lovely job in the city. So sorry he’s gone. He would have been valuable if we’d tried to start the dramatic association again. Still, I wouldn’t be here for the association myself, because Will is all in from work, and I’m thinking of taking him to California. Juanita—you know the Coast so well—tell me: would you start in at Los Angeles or San Francisco, and what are the best hotels?”
The Jolly Seventeen looked disappointed, but the Jolly Seventeen liked to give advice, the Jolly Seventeen liked to mention the expensive hotels at which they had stayed. (A meal counted as a stay.) Before they could question her again Carol escorted in with drum and fife the topic of Raymie Wutherspoon. Vida had news from her husband. He had been gassed in the trenches, had been in a hospital for two weeks, had been promoted to major, was learning French.
V
She left Hugh with Aunt Bessie.
But for Kennicott she would have taken him. She hoped that in some miraculous way yet unrevealed she might find it possible to remain in California. She did not want to see Gopher Prairie again.
The Smails were to occupy the Kennicott