The Dark Arena - Mario Puzo [78]
“You know that's not a fair thing to do,” Gordon said, and he couldn't hide the pain. He walked over to the chair and sat down again. Calmly and patiently he sorted out everything in his mind. He knew Ann meant what she said. He knew he never could give up the party, that he would only grow to hate her if he did, and he knew he could not give her and the child up, possibly her but not the baby.
“I promise,” he said, and he knew he lied. And when she came to him, her face flooding with teats of relief, and knelt and put her head in his lap, he felt for her pity and compassion and felt also a sense of dread for what he had done. For he had full knowledge of his deed, that once in America it would take her some time to discover his deception, and once she had discovered it she would not have the money or the will to go back to England. Their roots in each other would be too strong. He knew that for both of them their lives would now be mixed with hate and distrust and contempt and that for the rest of their years there would be a struggle between them. But there was nothing he could do. He stroked her coarse and heavy hair, which always excited him, as did her sturdy peasant body. He turned her heavy-planed almost Slavic face upward so that he could kiss it through the tears.
He thought, There was nothing I could do, and the kiss he gave her was painful to him.
fifteen
In twilight, the ruins of Nuremberg had a quiet grandeur, as if all this destruction was a thing of long ago, and by forces of nature—fire, earthquakes, centuries of rain and sun—and parts of it were tarry black as if the earth had been bled, and caked lava had formed enormous mounds.
Leo drove through it and for the first time found pleasure in the sight of this desolation. In the suburbs he stopped in front of a little, square white-painted house absolutely identical with the houses beside it. He hoped the professor was ready; he was anxious to leave Nuremberg, glad to leave the trial behind him. He had given his testimony honestly, factually, against the guards and the kapos he had known. He had met some of his old friends, old inmates, and shared their grim satisfaction in this long-awaited vengeance. But curiously enough he had disliked being with his former comrades, as if they had not been victims but had all participated in some shameful act in which they all now felt an equal guilt. He tried to reason this out and knew that he did not wish to be with people who remembered and shared the degradation, the terror, the hopeless misery of his life hi that time. And just a face associated with that life made it real again. He pressed the horn of his jeep and shattered the evening stillness.
Almost immediately he saw the professor's small, slight figure leave the house and come down the walk toward the jeep. He had a little surprise for the professor, Leo thought grimly, but he made an effort to be polite. “Did you have a good visit with your son?” he asked.
“Yes, yes,” the professor said, “a very nice visit.” He said the words politely, listlessly. He looked ill, dark circles pouched beneath his eyes, an almost bloodless mouth and gray skin.
Leo drove slowly so that they could talk, the slight breeze pleasant against his face. Later he would go at the fullest speed and then because of the rushing night wind they would not be able to speak. He took a pack of cigarettes from his shirt pocket with his right hand, controlling the wheel with his left. He gave one to the professor, and the professor lit a match, cupped it in his hand, and leaned over to light Leo's cigarette, then lit his own. After a few puffs Leo said, “I know about your son, one of my friends testified against him last month.” He saw the professor's hand shake as it brought the cigarette up to the mouth but the old man said nothing.
“If I had known about him I would never have taken you here,” Leo said, and wondered why then he was taking the man back to Bremen.
The professor said nervously, excitedly, holding tightly to the open side of the jeep, “I did not want you