U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [413]
"But he's handsome now, isn't he, Agnes?" Margie would put in anxiously. "Of course, dearie, but you ought to have seen him in those days." And Agnes would go on about how lucky he was at the races and how many people he'd saved from drowning and how al the people who owned the concessions chipped in to give him a bonus every year and how much money he always had in his pocket and a wonderful laugh and was such a cheery fel ow. "That was the ruination of him," Agnes would say. "He never could say no." And Agnes would tel about the wedding and the orangeblossoms and the cake and how Margie's mother Margery died when she was born. "She gave
-165-her life for yours, never forget that"; it made Margie feel dreadful, like she wasn't her own self, when Agnes said that. And then one day when Agnes came out of work there he'd been standing on the sidewalk wearing a derby hat and al dressed in black and asking her to marry him because she'd been Margery Ryan's best friend, and so they were married, but Fred never got over it and never could say no and that was why Fred took to drinking and lost his job at Hol and's and nobody would hire him on any of the beaches on account of his fighting and drinking and so they'd moved to Broad Channel but they didn't make enough with bait and rowboats and an occasional shoredinner so Fred had gotten a job in Jamaica in a saloon keeping bar because he had such a fine laugh and was so goodlooking and everybody liked him so. But that was the ruination of him worse than ever. "But there's not a finer man in the world than Fred Dowling when he's himself. . . . Never forget that, Margie." And they'd both begin to cry and Agnes would ask Margie if she loved her as much as if she'd been her own mother and Margie would cry and say, "Yes, Agnes darling."
"You must always love me," Agnes would say, "because God doesn't seem to want me to have any little babies of my own."
Margie had to go over on the train every day to go to school at Rockaway Park. She got along wel in the grade-school and liked the teachers and the books and the sing-ing but the children teased because her clothes were al homemade and funnylooking and because she was a mick and a Catholic and lived in a house built on stilts. After she'd been Goldilocks in the school play one Christmas, that was al changed and she began to have a better time at school than at home.
At home there was always so much housework to do,
Agnes was always washing and ironing and scrubbing be-cause Fred hardly ever brought in any money any more.
-166-He'd lurch into the house drunk and dirty and smel ing of stale beer and whiskey and curse and grumble about the food and why didn't Agnes ever have a nice piece of steak any more for him like she used to when he got home from the city and Agnes would break down, blubbering, "What am I going to use for money?" Then he would cal her dirty names, and Margie would run into her bedroom and slam the door and sometimes even pul the bureau across it and get into bed and lie there shaking. Sometimes when Agnes was putting breakfast on the table, always in a fluster for fear Margie would miss the train to school, Agnes would have a black eye and her face would be swol en and puffy where he'd hit her and she'd have a meek sorryforherself look Margie hated. And Agnes
would be muttering al the time she watched the cocoa and condensed milk heating on the stove, "God knows I've done my best and worked my fingers to the bone for him.
. . . Holy.saints of God, things can't go on like this." Al Margie's dreams were