U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [583]
"Take me home first. No, not to Ada's," Mary almost yel ed. "I'm sick of this parasite life. I'm going back to the office tomorrow. . . . I've got to cal up tonight to see if they got in al right with that load of condensed
milk. . . ." She picked up Ada's hand, suddenly feeling like old times again, and squeezed it. "Ada, you've been sweet, honestly you've saved my life."
"Ada's the perfect cure for hysterical people like us," said George Barrow. The taxi had stopped beside the row of garbagecans in front of the house where Mary lived.
"No, I can walk up alone," she said harshly and angrily again. "It's just that being tiredout a drink makes me feel funny. Goodnight. I'l get my bag at your place tomor--556-row." Ada and Barrow went off in the taxicab with their heads together chatting and laughing. They've forgotten me already, thought Mary as she made her way up the stairs. She made the stairs al right but had some trouble getting the key in the lock. When the door final y would open she went straight to the couch in the front room and lay down and fel heavily asleep.
In the morning she felt more rested than she had in years. She got up early and ate a big breakfast with bacon and eggs at Childs on the way to the office. Rudy Gold-farb was already there, sitting at her desk. He got up and stared at her without speaking for a moment. His eyes were red and bloodshot and his usual y sleek black hair was al over his forehead. "What's the matter, Rudy?"
"Comrade French, they got Eddy."
"You mean they arrested him."
"Arrested him nothing, they shot him."
"They kil ed him." Mary felt a wave of nausea rising in her. The room started to spin around. She clenched her fists and the room fel into place again. Rudy was tel ing her how some miners had found the truck wrecked in a ditch. At first they thought that it had been an accident but when they picked up Eddy Spel man he had a bul et-hole through his temple.
"We've got to have a protest meeting . . . do they know about it over at the Party?"
"Sure, they're trying to get Madison Square Garden. But, Comrade French, he was one hel of a swel kid." Mary was shaking al over. The phone rang. Rudy an-swered it.
"Comrade French, they want you over there right away. They want you to be secretary of the com-mittee for the protest meeting." Mary let herself drop into the chair at her desk for a moment and began noting down the names of organizations to be notified. Suddenly she looked up and looked Rudy straight in the eye. "Do you
-557-know what we've got to do . . . we've got to move the reliefcommittee to Pittsburgh. I knew al along we ought to have been in Pittsburgh."
"Risky business."
"We ought to have been in Pittsburgh al along," Mary said firmly and quietly. The phone rang again.
"It's somebody for you, Comrade French."
As soon as the receiver touched Mary's ear there was Ada talking and talking. At first Mary couldn't make out what it was about. "But, Mary darling, haven't you read the papers?""No, I said I hadn't. You mean about Eddy Spel man?""No, darling, it's too awful, you remember we were just there yesterday for a cocktail party . . . you must remember, Eveline Johnson, it's so awful. I've sent out and got al the papers. Of course the tabloids al say it's suicide.""Ada, I don't understand.""But, Mary, I'm trying to tel you . . . I'm so upset I can't talk . . . she was such a lovely woman, so talented, an artist real y.
. . . Wel , when the maid got there this morning she found her dead in her bed and we were just there twelve hours before. It gives me the horrors. Some of the papers say it was an overdose of a sleeping medicine. She couldn't have meant to do it. If we'd only known we might have been able to do something, you know she said she had a headache. Don't you think you could come up, I can't stay here alone I feel so terrible.""Ada, I can't. . . . Some-thing