Radio romances (July-Dec 1945)

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Wanted Sizes and Shapes On sale at 5-and-lOj: stores and department stores 66 AIR ACCESSOR The Glemby Co., Int. • III Eighth Ave. • New York City "Don't you see, Myra," Charles pleaded, "how unhappy you've been making him? All his trouble — his bad school work, his sulkiness, his fits of temper — they're the result of being pushed into something wrong for him." Again she moved her head, this time in acquiescence— dream-like, stricken, as if the last props of her existence had been pulled away. "Then you will forget about his music, Myra?" Charles' voice rose on a note of eager triumph. "You'll let him live a normal -boy's life — choose his own friends, run and play in the afternoons, have his pets if he takes care of them properly? It isn't much to ask, Myra?" Myra's lips twisted. "No?" she said. "It isn't? Not much to ask me to give him up?" "Nobody's asking you to give Bob up. But he's my son as well as yours." "Your son? Yes. But he can't belong to both of us, Charles." She stood up suddenly, flinging her arms wide. "A child can only belong to two people when they love each other. Don't you know that?" she said mockingly. Charles caught his breath. "Yes," he said. "I know it." The room was charged now, like a countryside before the lightning comes. I took a step toward the door. "I'd better go — '•' I said uncertainly. "Don't go," Myra cried. "Why should you go? This is your affair too. Because you love Charles, don't you?" She didn't fling the question at me. It was not an accusation. Yet even if it had been, I think I could still have said, as I did: "Yes, I love him." "And he loves you, I know. So, in a way, you belong in this family discussion, Frances." "Myra — please." Charles moved toward her, but she held out a hand against him. "Oh, I'm not jealous," she said wearily. ""What right have I to be jealous of you, Charles? You did your best, but we should never have married. If you want a divorce, I'll give you one." Charles' face blazed with hope — but only for an instant. Almost together, both he and I cried, "No!" And he said, "And let you keep Bob? I'd never do that!" For this, we saw, was her bargain. She would sell us our happiness at the price TDf Bob's. It was the one bargain neither of us could accept. Her eyes went from one of us to the other, questing, searching — like the eyes of something trapped. "That wouldn't do, Myra," Charles said more quietly. "If Fran and I love each other, there isn't much we can do about it. We'll go on as we have, you and I — but you must let Bob grow up in the right way. You must." And then, while we watched, the strength went out of Myra. She looked past us both, into some future only she could see, and she said: "No. I couldn't. You're right, you're both right. I knew, deep down inside, that I was making him unhappy. I didn't do it because I wanted to. I couldn't help myself. Something stronger than I am — " She raised her hand, her slender, long-fingered hand. "You can have Bob too. You and Frances." In the stunned, incredulous silence, I felt tears brimming in my eyes. How she must love the boy, to give him up like this! I made a silent vow, that her love must not be wasted — that I would take it, and transmute it, and give it back to Bob as nourishment to make him strong. "Myra," Charles said huskily, but she interrupted. "Don't say anything," she told him with a wan smile. "Not now. You'll make me feel sorry for myself, and I mustn't. I'll go away, Charles — to some city. I've always wanted to. A city where I can hear music, and live a different kind of life. I'd like to start over again. And you need a new start, too. Maybe, after a while — I could come and see Bob, or you'd let him come visit me?" " "Of course," Charles said, while I stood silent, dazed by the glorious vista that was opening out before me. Myra turned to me, her face neither friendly nor .unfriendly — controlled, impossible to read. "You'll *be good to Bob," she said quietly, "and he likes you. Goodbye." "Goodbye." Soundlessly, my lips formed the words, and she left us, walking with the cold dignity that I will always remember as being peculiarly Myra's. I didn't see her again, and perhaps I never shall. She left the next day, for Reno, and two months later, on the day after the last day of school, Charles and I were married. We are together, Charles and Bob and I . . . and Seamas, and the ants in their city. School is starting again next week, and Bob will be in Miss Grierson's class, the seventh grade. But she will find him no problem, because there is love in his home. *W6at doe& 6e want moat ta a «d£e? TUNE IN ff N\Y TRUE STORY V Hear real life stories on your radio taken from the files of TRUE STORY MAGAZINE. A different story every day revealing the troubles, triumphs, loves, adventures of real people. 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