Authors: Harold Robbins
"No," he said roughly. He backed her into the dark comer again and tried to kiss her. She tiu-ned her face. He couldn't see her signaling with her purse. In a moment a rough hand spun him around.
The big apelike boimcer was behind him. Joker Martin was standing next to him^ smiling. "Listen, bud," the bouncer said, "you behave yourself or you'll get t'run outta here."
Ross could feel the color leaving his face. He glanced
at Marja. Her face was expressionless. He took a deep breath. "Okay, Marja," he said. "If that's the way you want it." He turned and walked off the floor.
Joker Martui fell into step with her as she started back to the tables. "Your friend seemed pretty mad," he said.
"He's no friend," she said.
He assumed a surprised expression. "But you were so chummy the last time you were here."
"Yeah," she said flatly. "It was different then. But I didn't Uke somethin' he did."
Martin looked down at her. "What'd he do?"
She shrugged her shoulders noncommittally. "I just didn't like it, that's all."
"Was it somethin' like switchin' dice?" Martin asked in a conversational voice.
The surprise was written on her face.
He smiled. "Yuh think we're stupid, kid? We're pro's. We spotted that right off." He lit a cigarette. "I figured that was why you blew so quick. Did yuh know what he was gonna do?"
"No," she said.
"I figured that, too," he said.
"If you knew, why didn't you do somethin'?" she asked.
He smiled gently. "His old man's gotta lot of pull. Someday he'll come back an' we'll take the dough back with interest. Until then we can wait. We're patient. They always come back."
She hung the evening dress carefully in her locker. After a quick check of her face m the mkror, she darted out the door. It was a few minutes after twelve. The job wasn't so bad during the week—she was on her feet for only six hours. But Fridays and Saturdays were tough. On
those dajrs she worked from five o'clock in the evening until two in the morning.
She stepped out into the noisy street and saw him lounging against a car, waiting for her. He had been there every night since she had begun working.
A smile came to her lips. "Hello, Mike."
He grinned at her. "Hi, baby."
They fell in step. "You don't have to wait for me every night, Mike," she said. "I can get home okay."
"I want to," he said.
"But you must be dead. You work that newsstand for twelve hours a day."
He grinned. "Don't take all the fun outta life, baby," he said gently. "How about some coffee?"
She nodded. "Okay, but it's my turn to buy, don't forget."
"Why d'yuh think I asked yuh?" he laughed.
They turned into a drugstore and climbed onto two counter stools. "Two Java," Mike ordered. He looked at her. "Split a jelly doughnut with me?"
She nodded.
He called the order to the counter man and turned back to her. "How's your mother feeling?" he asked.
"Better today, thanks," she said. "The bleeding stopped, and the doctor says if it stays like that she can get out of bed tomorrow."
"Good," he said.
She was quiet for a moment while she thought about her mother. Katti had been in bed almost a week. Had come home early from work when she began to bleed. At first the doctor thought it was a miss, but everything had turned out all right. She couldn't go back to work, though. Those heavy pails and mops were too much for her.
Marja remembered how upset her mother had been when she told her about the job. But the twenty a week had been a life-saver. Without it they all would have starved. Peter was no good for anything.
The counter man put the coffee and a jelly doughnut down in front of her. Quickly she divided it and gave Mike the larger piece.
"How'd it go today?" Mike asked.
"Okay." She smiled. "I was pretty busy."
He grinned. "Good dancer, huh?"
She grinned back. "The best." The smile vanished suddenly. "Ross came in to see me tonight."
Mike stared into his coffee. "What'd he want?"
"He said he was going away for a while. He wanted me to go out with him."
Mike still didn't look at her. "What'd you say?"
"I told him no dice. He got fresh and Mr. Martin came over, so he walked out."
Mike was silent for a moment. "His father's sending him to Europe."
She drew in her breath. "Man," she whispered, "it must be great to have dough like that."
Mike looked down into his coffee again. "You still like him, don't yuh?"
She looked over at Mike. "I don't really know," she said honestly. "He's different than all the other boys I know. He speaks different. He acts different."
"He's got money," Mike said bitterly.
"That's not it," she said quickly.
"What is it, then?" Mike asked.
She looked at him. He could see she was thinking carefully. "It's the way he is. He acts all the time like I want to some of the time. Like he's on top of the world and
everybody is gonna play up to him. It must be good to be
the guy on top."
She put her hand on his arm. "Y'know," she said,
lowering her voice to a conJSdential whisper, "Mr. Martin
knew he switched dice on them that time."
Mike was surprised. 'Then why didn't he stop him?'* "On accounta Ross's father," she said. "Mr. Martin
said the old man^s got a lot of pull." Her voice sounded
impressed.
He looked at her. "Is that what you like?"
She put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it. She dragged
deeply on it. "Maybe," she answered. "I would like a little
of the de luxe.. Who wouldn't? It's a hell of a lot better'n
livin' the way I am now."
Chapter 15
KATTi put down her sewing and looked at the clock. It was nearly eleven. She got out of her chair and went to the window. The August night was heavy and humid. Wearily she wiped the perspiration from her face with a towel that hung around her neck.
There was a sharp twinge ofpain in her back, and she swayed dizzily. She reached quickly for a table and held on to it until the dizziness passed. The doctor had warned her about such spells. He had told her to spend most of her time in bed, to do no work. There was something about her pregnancy that placed toa great a strain on her heart.
The dizzy spell passed and she went back into the kitchen and put away her sewing. She would lie down for a while and try to rest.
The house was very still, and in the dark of her room she found herself listening for every sound. Often she could not go to sleep imtil Marja came home, but tonight was even worse than usual. Peter had gone out after supper
and had not as yet returned. She knew what that meant.
He would be nasty and irritated and drunk with beer when he came in. She would have to keep him away from Marja or there would be an argument.
After a few minutes she began to feel better, but still she could not sleep. It was too hot in the room, and her bed was warm with the heat of her body. She got out of her bed and went into Marja's room. In the crib, the baby was sleeping restlessly, his tiny body pink with a faint summer rash. As she looked at him, he suddenly awoke and began to cry.
She picked him up and whispered soothingly, but he continued to cry. She carried him into the kitchen and gave him a bottle of cool water. He sucked at it happily and she placed him back in his crib.
There was a sound at the kitchen door and she turned toward it. It must be Peter, it was too early for Marja to come home. One look at his flushed face and she knew where he had been.
He closed the door and looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot and puffed. "Still up?" he asked.
"You see," she said, walking past him toward the bedroom. "Come to bed."
"It's too hot," he said. He crossed the room to the icebox and opened it. "I want a beer."
"Haven't you had enough?" she asked expressionlessly.
He didn't answer as he punctured a can and held it to his lips. Some of it trickled down his chin and slopped onto his shirt. He put the can down and stared at her. "Mind your own business," he snarled.
She stared back at him for a moment, then turned and went into the parlor. She leaned out the window and looked
up the street anxiously. It was almost time for Marja to be home.
"What are you doing?" he asked pugnaciously.
She didn't answer. He knew what she was doing. She began to walk past him.
His hand on her arm stopped her. "Looking for your daughter?" he asked nastily.
"Yes," she answered, lapsing into Polish. "Is there anything wrong in it?"
He answered in the same language. "You don't have to worry about her. She's probably making a few extra bucks in some hallway on the way home with that fellow who walks her home every night."
"Go to bed," she said coldly. "You're drunk." •
His grip tightened on her arm. "You think I don't know what I'm saying?" he asked shrewdly.
"I know you don't," she said, pulling her arm from his grip and turning back to the window. She looked out. Marja and Mike were walking down the block toward the house.
A moment's pleasure ran through her. This Mike was such a nice boy. They looked so good walking together. Maybe someday—but that was too far oflE. Sometimes she had to force herself to realize that Marja was still a child. This wasn't the Old Country. She turned away from the window, the trace of her pleasure still in the corners of her mouth.
"I'm going to bed," she said. "You'd better come, too."
He didn't move. "No. It's too hot. I'm going to have another beer."
She went into the bedroom and began to undress. She could hear him stumbUng in the kitchen—the icebox door and the sharp sound when the beer can was opened. She
threw a light kimona over her nightgown and went into the kitchen to wash.
He was sitting at the table, the half-empty can in his hand, staring at the door.
"What are you waiting for?" she asked. "Come to bed."
He shook his head stubbornly. "I'll show you who knows what they're talking about. Wait'll she comes in."
She tried to smile. "Don't be a fool, Peter," she said. "Leave the girl alone and come to bed."
"A whore she is," he muttered.
Her stinging slap left a white imprint on his face. He stared up at her in surprise.
Katti's face was white with anger. He had never seen her Uke this. "Shut up!" she said angrily. "The girl has more brains than you. If it weren't for her, we'd be starving!" She walked toward the bedroom. At the hallway she turned and looked back at him. "You forget it was Marja who got a job when we needed money, not you." Her voice was contemptuous. "She's Hke her father. You're not half the man he was. I only hope your children are Uke him, not like you. Else, God help them!"
He got to his feet quickly and moved toward the kitchen door. "I'll show you who's a man!" he shouted, opening it. "No girl in my house is going to be a whore!"
She caught his arm and tried to pull him back into the apartment. "Leave her alone, you drunken bum!" she shouted. "She's my daughter, not yours!"
He pushed her away roughly and she stumbled back against the kitchen table. A wave of pain ran through her body. She looked at him, her eyes blurring.
He was puUing his belt from around his waist. He shook it at her. "Hold your tongue, woman!" he said hoarsely. "Or you'll get more of this than she will. When I get
through with her, you'll see what she is." He went out into the hall.
Katti took a deep breath and ran after him. The man was crazy. Marja had been right all the time. If only she had listened to her! A wave of dizziness grabbed at her temples, but she fought it off. He was at the staurway now. She grabbed both his arms.
"Leave her alone!" she whispered, trying to hold him back. With an almost superhuman strength she forced him around. Her eyes stared wildly into his. "If you touch her, you'll never come into this house again!"
The words spilled into his brain like a spray of cold water. A sudden sanity returned fo his eyes. He shook her hands violently from his arms. She grabbed at the banister to hold herself erect.
He walked past her to the kitchen door, where he turned and looked back at her. "It's your daughter," he said coldly. "May her sins be on your own head!"
The dizziness reached up to her temples, and his face blurred before her. She let go of the railing and took a hesitant step toward the apartment, but the pain in her temples spread a mantle of darkness over her mind.
"Marja!" she screamed into the suddenly aching void. Then time came rushing up to meet her in the shape of a flight of stairs.
They heard the sound, and almost before Mike could move, Marja was halfway up the first flight of steps. He ran after her, his heart pounding in fright at the piercing scream. He got to the third landing a step behind her.
"Mama!" Marja's voice in his ears was like a frightened child's. He saw her sink to her knees beside the crumpled woman. He stood there dumbly.
"Mama!" Marja's voice was the sound of tears in the
cradle. Her blond hair shimmered as she pressed her lips to the still face.
"Katti!"
Mike looked up. The man's face was ashen as he stood on the stairway above their heads and stared at them. "Marja, what happened?"
Marja shook her head dumbly. She turned and looked at Mike. Her eyes were hurt beyond understanding and dull with shock.
He reached down and touched her shoulder. He could feel the trembling in her body. "Is there a phone somewhere in the house?" he asked.
She didn't answer. Somehow he knew she hadn't heard him. He looked up the steps. The man was coming down slowly, both hands gripping the railing tighdy as if he was afraid he might fall.
A door beside him opened and a man's face looked out. ^There's been an accident," Mike said quickly. "Have you a phone I could use?"
The man nodded and came out into the hall. Behind him Mike could see a woman clutching a wrapper around her.
Mike stepped into the apartment. The woman pointed silently to the telephone. Mike picked it up and was about to speak when the faint whispering sound came to his ears.