Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1951)

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"Then I said to myself, what's all the excitement? Mrs. Malone, she's a woman, she'll understand. And besides ... I figured you wouldn't be the kind to throw me out on my ear. "The reason I'm here," she said simply, "is that you and Gene Williams are friends. I don't know anybody else who knows him. And I ain't gonna sit around any more wishing. I'm gonna get to know him. And you've got to help me, Mrs. Malone!" I gazed at her in dumbfounded silence. "T told you I had my nerve," she said. JL "But it's about all I do have — except maybe I'm not so bad-looking. I can see he likes my looks. I don't really know him, Mrs. Malone, except to hand him his coffee-and-pie when he comes into the diner. Sometimes he talks to me. I know he don't really see me. But he acts sort of lonesome — and anyway I see him! I see how he looks, that kind of proud way he holds his head, and the way he's always carrying a book — a big book from the library. He ain't — he's not like the other guys, always with the wise-cracks. He's not like anyone in the whole world — in my world, anyway." She clasped her red-gloved hands passionately together. With an effort I pulled the shreds of my poise around me. It was a shock, certainly, but it all depended on the point of view. From an ordinary girl it would have sounded unbalanced. But once you accepted Crystal as a girl very much out of the ordinary, it had its own understandable logic. I studied her carefully. Lovely, certainly, she was; it shone out even under the camouflage of bad make-up and too-tight clothes. And courageous she surely was — it had taken a lot of courage to come to me, a stranger, and talk this way. Definitely, Crystal was an unusual girl. Ralph Munson had been wrong when he said she had the same spirit of fight as all her generation. Wrong, because Crystal had more. She wasn't just fighting because she was mad. She was fighting because she wanted something and knew she couldn't have it unless she won it herself ... "Look — so you won't think I'm crazy, I'll put it right on the line," she was saying. "You might think Gene's just another good-looking guy, but you'd be wrong. It's not his looks. It's everything else — the way he talks, the kind of nice ways he has. You know he reads to me? He does! Poetry and stuff. I don't know from nothing about it, but believe me, from him it sounds — it sounds — " She made that gesture again, folding her hands tightly together in unconscious supplication. "You got to help me. I got a right to try to make a better life, don't I? Just because I was born into the lots don't mean I got to stay there?" "What makes you think it's a good idea? If he'd wanted to ask you out, Crystal — I don't mean to be cruel, but wouldn't he have just asked you at the diner?" She shook her head impatiently, and the shining dark hair flung backwards with a vehemence of its own. "That's the whole point. He doesn't really see me down there. He's just so lonesome he sees a face with a smile on it and he knows it's nobody he owes anything to or is scared of. I want to make him see me! I know there isn't any other girl." she said urgently. "I know he never dates. I been asking around." I suppose there were a few confused moments when, if I could have found the right words, I might have said 'no.' I knew how Gene resented what he called meddling; I was almost sure Crystal's little dream would shatter at the very moment it came true. But I couldn't turn her down. Never mind Gene, I told myself; do this for the girl. She's right; she's entitled to her chance. Gene was coming over the next Friday night, and I told Crystal to be there too. She was transfigured with joy when she said good-night, and I found the courage to say, "By the way. Crystal, would youmind if I made a suggestion. Could you wear something more — " "Oh, I got that all planned!" she said eagerly. "I got a blue crepe dress — all men like blue, don't they? — and real plain, only with a touch of beading at the neck here. Real simple, Mrs. Malone. Don't worry about a thing. You've done the big part. I'll take it from here." My mouth opened and closed again. No, I couldn't; I couldn't stand there in cold blood and tell her I was going to suggest a plain sweater and skirt, and low-heeled shoes, and a nice pink lipstick. Not being Crystal, I didn't have the nerve. Before she left, however, I did try to tell her a little about Gene himself. 1 didn't want to say too much, because it wasn't fair not to let her build her own impression. But suppose he was rude to her, as he usually was to his father and to others? Or suppose — suppose he was simply gloomy and reproachful, and sat staring at me in the way that meant he had once again decided I was the only woman in the world? The more than ten years difference in our ages had no meaning for Gene when he was in that mood. All at once I felt eager for Friday to come. Had Crystal given us — Sam and me — the answer to the problem of how to handle Gene? Friday came, and with it a sudden downward sensation in my nerves. Fortunately, Crystal looked charming. Even her lipstick seemed paler, more becoming. The only trouble was that from the moment Gene entered the room it was plain that he didn't know what on earth she was doing there and cared less. And I couldn't get Crystal to stop talking! From time to time I caught her eye and tried to flag her down, but I guess she couldn't stop. Eagerness had become nervousness. And as Gene kept moving restlessly around the room, scarcely troubling to answer, the apprehension became sheer panic. "TXon't you think so, Gene?" she said \J with desperate cheerfulness. "Think what?" he said glumly. I hadn't heard the question either. After a while you lost track of individual words. "The coffee down at the Diner — ain't it the world's worst?" Gene winced. "Oh, I don't know. It's not so bad." "Go on, you know it's not fit for pigs." Gene turned and gave me an outraged look, and all at once I was very angry with him. Who did he think he was ? What right did he have to wince because Crystal said "ain't" and was a little hysterical because he was in the room! I wanted to shake him and say through my teeth,