Radio and television mirror (July-Dec 1942)

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New York, New York 66 "You know as much about him now as I do, Holly," Linda insisted. "He's so interesting," Holly sighed. "Didn't you think so, too, Mother?" "Well," said Irene, "Linda said his music was so beautiful — " "It was, Mother." "Women! I don't know what those long-haired fellows have that appeals so much to you — " George Emerson grumbled. "He's not long-haired," Holly exclaimed. "Maybe not," said Emerson. "But I could tell he was different. I don't like the way he looks at you when you talk to him." "How does he look?" asked Linda. "He doesn't — that's the trouble," Emerson said. "He kind of turned his eyes away. A man only does that when he feels guilty about something— got a bad conscience." A chorus of protests greeted him. Even Irene thought that was ridiculous. "The way you glared at him, Dad," Linda said quietly, "I don't think anybody could have looked at you — unless they glared back. Steve Harper felt your dislike." This time Emerson glared at his daughter. "What's everybody defending him for? You'd think he was a somebody— the way you're jumping at me — " "Dad!" Linda couldn't keep a little anger from creeping into her voice. "Steve Harper is somebody! He's a composer. And some day he may be famous — " George Emerson took his daughter's arm and looked at her searchingly. The sincerity in her voice must have worried him. "Come now, Linda," he said more calmly, "Remember Harper's no kid. He must be near thirty. If he had any real stuff in him he wouldn't be hanging around this town, playing the church organ. He'd be somebody by now. You can't deny that." "Dad — please!" There was an edge in Linda's voice. Emerson tried to laugh. "Isn't this fantastic? Here's a fellow you just met — he's got a future like a zero — I never heard you stand up for Ed Somers the way you're standing up for him." "Ed Somers doesn't need anyone to stand up for him, Dad. Besides, well — besides — there's no comparison," Linda said lamely. "I should hope not!" Emerson exclaimed. "You mustn't under-rate Ed. Just because he isn't the soulful type — he's got a lot of soul in him just the same. A sound, honest, one hundred percenter — while this Harper — we won't discuss it any further!" Emerson took Holly's arm and marched toward the house. And Linda and her father didn't discuss the young musician composer any further. But all afternoon, at the Emerson household, there was an air, an atmosphere of subtle tension which everyone tried to hide. Linda quarrel with her father about a stranger? It was unthinkable. Linda was careful not to mention Steve Harper's name in her father's presence for the next few days. Not that Linda didn't think of him. She wondered about those imaginary conversations Steve had had with her. What had he said to her — what had she said to him? Linda was amused at her efforts to piece together those conversations. About music, they must have been, mainly about music . . . and about themselves. It was amazing how well she knew Steve — in her mind now she always called him that — and how little she knew about him. And to think they both had been raised here in the same town — in Axminster. But then, Dr. Stratton would know, would be able to answer many of her questions. Just thinking and wondering made her happy. But happiness is a mood, too, and Linda's mood changed gradually. Irene Emerson watched her daughter anxiously. Could it be the young man Linda had met on Sunday morning — the young man to whom George had been rude? Could her daughter, Linda — cool, aloof, beautiful Linda — have fallen in love? It would be dreadful if it were that young man — the young man George seemed to have taken such a dislike to. Irene tried — carefully— to bring up the subject of Stephen Harper, but Linda avoided it. AND one evening Irene tried to persuade Linda to accompany her parents to the movies. But Linda preferred to stay at home. After George and Irene left, Linda sat out on the porch alone, gazing into the I darkness and occasionally looking up j at the flicker of the street lamps. She no longer tried to hide her i thoughts from herself. She was thinking of Stephen Harper. He had i/fy\SINGAS0NGOF P~*^ KITCHFNTHRIF1 KITCHEN THRIFT SINK YOUR DIMES IN WAR SAVINGS STAMPS »•*•' «■*■ told her on Sunday that he'd walked by the Emerson house a thousand times in the last five years. A thousand times. Would tonight be a thousand and one? Linda suddenly sat erect and leaned forward. A man was walking down the street, approaching through the darkness. Yes. It was Steve. Linda felt that he came almost by the power of her wishing, and for a moment her heart beat a rapid recognition of her happiness. Steve approached slowly, uncertainly, peering up at the porch from the sidewalk. "Hello," he called softly. "Hello!" Linda rose swiftly and walked down the stairs. Steve waited, outside the pool of light. "I just happened to be walking by," he began. "You just happened?" Linda hid her smile. "No," said Steve suddenly. "I just said that because I'm a coward. I've been approaching this street for the last hour and a half. I kept thinking that you were sitting on the porch, and I kept thinking that I mustn't walk on this street. It would be like trespassing — on sacred ground. And it's just an ordinary street — in an ordinary town — " Steve broke off suddenly, as though RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR