Modern Screen (Jul-Dec 1946)

the edge of the shelf, not daring to turn, and she heard his voice spilling eagerly into the phone. "Lucy ... is that you, Lucy . . . look darling, don't say anything, just listen . . . I'm going to be held up a little ... I won't be able to get back for a couple of days . . . it's nothing serious ... so don't worry . . . just remember I'll be there as soon as I can . . . gee, it's certainly swell to be able to talk to you . . . well, pretty soon we won't have to do it over a phone, either . . . I'll tell you all about it when I see you ... be good . . . take it easy." At the closet Susan's body was still tense. She turned slowly. Mike was pushing the phone away carefully. He sighed. "It was certainly wonderful to talk to her." "What did she say?" Susan said slowly. "Nothing much. I guess she was crying, a little. I didn't give her much of a chance to say anything, anyway — " "Oh," Susan said. the fat man pays . . . So he had to stay in Los Angeles a little while longer. Susan promised to have the sponsor at her house that night since he was due in from New York. Mike walked slowly back to his hotel. It had been wonderful to talk to Lucy. But . . . well, but what? He couldn't really say. It was this California sunshine. It made you feel so strange. It would be all right once he got back to Indiana . . . He opened the door to the hotel suite. For a moment he thought he was in the wrong place. Someone was banging on a piano, briskly singing a song in some strange tongue that sounded as if it could have been Russian. It was Russian . . . A girl was singing out the lyrics and she nodded at him briskly and called between choruses: "Countess Ilanovich Marina Strogoff — at your service!" At the mirror a large and pleasantly fat man was trying on derby hats. He turned and waved: "Come on in," he said. Slinky came in from the shower rubbing his hair. He saw Mike and stopped. "Who are these people?" Mike said. "Boarders," Slinky said confidentially. "The tall gal is a Russian Countess from Texas. The fat gent is a guy named Stiles. I figured that as long as you were going back, I'd get lonely in the joint. So I rented out part of it. It's all right. I cleared it with the OPA— " Mike said, "Slinky, it's not our room. Susan Duncan's paying for it." "Her sponsor is. Let the fat ape pay a couple of more bucks — " "She's in enough trouble as it is. Get them out!" Slinky shrugged: "It's too late. The deal's made. You wouldn't want me to get a reputation as a liar — " Mike groaned and sat down. Susan was waiting for him when he came by that night. That is: Susan and some sixty or seventy other people. Her house was jammed. "I didn't expect a party," he said. "It's for my sponsor," she said. "Where is he?" "He's not here yet. He'll turn up." "Where can we talk alone?" Mike asked. "The patio?" It was cool and dim out on the patio. The moon hung trembling over the rim of the hills that fell like dipping roller coasters to the ocean beyond. There was a small rose-enclosed arbor in one corner. Mike sat down on the bench. "Susan," he said. "I've been a lot of trouble to you, I guess." "Not so much, really, Sergeant." "Well, you've been a lot of trouble to me." "Have I?" she said. "I'm sorry." "No, not that way. I mean — " "What do you mean?" "I mean if we hadn't been on your program I'd never have met you and if Slinky didn't ... or I mean ... if I didn't . . ." "If you didn't what?" Susan said. "I don't know," Mike said desperately. "I mean that I'm glad I met you." "So am I, Mike," Susan said softly . . . "Susan . . . !" They came out of the kiss slowly, hardly hearing the voice that was calling from the front of the patio. Then they heard the bellow again and they turned. "Susan . . . !" It was a fat man in a neat blue suit and he was peering into the darkness. "Popsy," Susan said. The man heard her voice and came toward her. "Susan," he was saying, "what's all this nonsense Belamar's been telling me about a mistake on the program? Why should it be so much trouble to find a few heroes? I don't understand — " "Mr. Stiles," Susan was murmuring, "this is Sergeant Hanlon. This is my sponsor." MODERN SCREEN CO. J. And Mike was looking into the eyes of the fat man he had left not so long ago in the hotel suite trying on derbies. They stared at each other. "The Russian Countess," Mike said. "And you!" "The Marine!" Stiles said. "Our room — " Mike began. "Whose room?" Stiles roared. "I'm paying for your room. And then on top of that I'm paying you to share it with me! Susan," he shouted. "Do something." "I was trying to," Susan said demurely, "when you came in . . ." "Let's get back to the hotel," Stiles shouted. "Young man. Come with me!" On the way back Mike told him the whole story. Stiles listened quietly. And at the end, he said: "Sergeant, would you take some advice from an old tired man?" "Yes, sir?" Mike said. "This girl back home. How long do you know her?" "We grew up together," Mike answered. "Go back to her," Stiles said quietly. "Susan's a wonderful girl. But you're just infatuated with her. Take my advice, go back to Rhodesville." Mike didn't answer for a long time. And then he said in a low voice: "Yes, sir. That's what. I think." It was just a little after dawn. Two scrubwomen were patiently washing the floor and they hardly turned when the two Marines appeared from the elevators and started across the lobby. Slinky said: "Why so early in the morning? It isn't civilized." "We're taking the first train out," Mike said grimly. And they continued to walk silently toward the doors of the hotel. They were almost across the lobby when the door swung inward and a grey haired woman came through and looked uncertainly around. Mike stopped abruptly. And at the same moment her eyes met his. "Mom!" Mike said. And then she was in his arms. It wasn't until they were in the little Coffee Shop that he thought to ask her why she had come. "Mike," she said. "Lucy didn't wait for you. I wanted to be the one to tell you — " "Lucy . . ." "I told Miss Duncan to keep you here until I came. I didn't want you to come back home . . . and then find out. I'll have to thank Miss Duncan for all she's done." "Yes," Mike said bitterly. "Thank her." "Mike," his mother said softly. "Don't be hurt about Lucy." "The funny part is," Mike said, "that I'm not. I think I was almost hoping something like that would happen — " "Then why are you angry?" Mike said slowly: "Because a girl I thought was doing things for me, was only doing it because ... it was her job . . ." He never let Susan tell him her side of the story. He went back to San Diego without trying to see her. And he wouldn't answer when she tried to call. He wouldn't listen to anybody, not to Mom, not to Slinky, not to Mr. Stiles. He was bitter and hurt and angry. He thought the wor'd had cheated him. And maybe it had . . . But on the day before they were to re ceive their discharges from the Corps, there was a special event. On the Colonel's order they assembled in the Rec Hall There was a radio program to be broadcast from San Diego. Mike watched, fascinated, as Susan Duncan slowly came out on the platform . . . it's a boy! . The next thing he knew he was up on the platform beside her and she was talking: "On our last program," she said, "we made a mistake that we're here to rectify. We want you all to meet Sgt. Mike Hanlon. holder of the Congressional Medal of Honor. Will you tell us about yourself, Sergeant? What are your plans now?" "To get as far away as possible as soon as I can — " "Far away from what. Sergeant?" "You—" "Sergeant, we're on the air!" "Fine." "If that's the way you feel, then I have a few things to say — " "I'm not interested." "I don't care whether you are. When I first met you, I thought you were one of the finest men I ever knew. It was even something more than that. I fell in love with you. And then — " "You what?" Mike Hanlon shouted. "You heard me," Susan yelled back. "Do you love me?" Mike said. "I do," Susan yelled. In the hospital waiting room the little man was still sitting forward, listening intently as Mike finished his story. He looked toward Mike and smiled. "And then what happened?" The swinging doors at the end of the corridor opened and a nurse came swinging down the long hall: "Mister Hanlon?" Mike stood up tensely. The little man tugged at his jacket. "And then what happened?" he repeated. "It's a boy," said the nurse.