The Dark Arena - Mario Puzo [94]
He raised himself up and called out, “Elfreida.” There was no answer. He wait into the bathroom and found her lying on the floor, her heavy breast pressed against the tile. He lifted her and brought her back to the bed and then saw she was crying silently, weakly. Suddenly it seemed as if he were standing far away, looking down at her and Eddie Cassin. He could see his own face reflected in the candles and the summer night and a great swift spear of terror went through Us body. In his mind he cried out God, God, help me. Please help me. He kissed her face, the great mouth and nose and yellow cheeks. “Stop crying,” he said, “please stop crying. Your husband was a fine man, he wasn't a fairy. I was teasing.”
And into his mind from long ago, he as a boy was listening to someone read the faintly remembered fairy tales.
The word so beautiful then, the fairy tales, and like everything else once innocent, corrupted now. The voice reading, “Lost lost lost in the forest. Pity the lost princess.” And into his mind came now as it had come then into his boy's mind, the picture of a virginal maiden with a crown and veil of white lace, the delicate features of an angel, the slight body of an undeveloped girl with no rotundity of hip or breast, no hint of nubility to mar the purity of her form. And then (was it in school or the bedroom of his home?) looking out the window, tear-blurred eyes sweeping over a forest of stone, he had wept silently and weakly, the imploring voice behind him softly saying, “Pity the lost beauty,” and going on and on and on.
That night Hella and Mosca left the baby with Frau Saunders and strolled down to Metzer Strasse where Mosca still had his official billet. Mosca carried the blue gym bag in which were towels and clean underclothing.
They were both hot and dusty and looked forward to a leisurely bath. There was no heating boiler in Frau Saun-ders's house.
In front of the building stood Frau Meyer. She wore white slacks and a white blouse, presents from Eddie Cassin. She was smoking an American cigarette and looking curiously smug. “Hello, you two,” she said. “You haven't been to see us for a long time.”
“Don't tell me you're lonely,” Mosca said.
Frau Meyer laughed, the buck teeth showing from the pulled back mouth. “No, I'm never lonely. Not with such a house full of men.”
Hella asked, “Frau Meyer, do you know if Leo has returned from Hamburg?”
Frau Meyer gave them a look of surprise. “Why, he returned Friday. Hasn't he been to see you?”
“No,” Mosca said, “and I haven't seen him eating at the Rathskellar or the club.”
The smug look was back on Frau Meyer's face. “He's in his room now with a wonderful black eye. I teased him about it but I could see he was angry so I left him alone.”
“I hope he's not sick,” Hella said. They went up the stairs and knocked on the door of Leo's room. Mosca knocked louder but there was no answer. He tried the door. It was locked.
“Old Meyer missed something for once,” Mosca said, “He probably went out.”
TTiey went into Mosca's room and Mosca undressed and went to the bathroom at the end of the halL He soaked in the tub for the time to smoke one cigarette, then washed quickly. When he came back to the room Hella was resting on the bed, cradling one side of her face in her hands.
“What's the matter?” Mosca asked.
“My tooth hurts,” Hella said, “all that candy and ice cream I ate today.”
“I'll take you to the dentist tomorrow,” Mosca said.
“No, it will go away,” Hella said. “I've had it before.” She undressed as Mosca was dressing, put on the damp bathrobe, and went down the hall.
Mosca was tying his shoelaces when he heard someone moving around in Leo's room. For one moment he thought it might be a German domestic looting and he called out sharply, “Leo?” He waited, then he heard Leo say through the wall, “It's me.”
Mosca went out of his room and Leo had unlocked the door. When he entered Leo was already walking away from him and toward the bed.
“How come you didn't drop over?” Mosca asked.
Leo got onto the bed and when he turned to lie cm his back Mosca