Read Last Night at the Blue Angel Online
Authors: Rebecca Rotert
What are you doing here?
I'm just passing through. I won't keep you. I'm visiting a sister
,
a friend in town. She teaches at Donnelly College
.
I studied her face. So strange and so familiar all at once.
I'm going to see her in the morning
,
say good-bye before I leave
. Her mouth trembled a little.
Will you stay here tonight?
I asked her.
Caroline let us have the bedroom. Sister and I lay face-to-face in bed.
How did you get out?
I asked.
Sister Windy
, she said.
We planned it for weeks
.
And then it just went off without a hitch and I was free
,
butâit never occurred to me I would have to say good-bye to her. I will never see her again
.
Or any of my sisters. I didn't realize how final it would be. All I could think about was getting out
. She cried and tried not to cry. I rested my hand on her head and said,
I know
,
I know
. Because I did.
Will you stay with your friend at the school?
I asked.
No
,
that won't be possible. The whole community knows by now
.
But where will you go?
Chicago
, she said, a smile appearing.
My brother is expecting me. He tells me he will help me start a new life. He has always wanted me to be free. Freedom is more exciting to him than to me
, she said.
I think I would like your brother
, I said.
I don't believe a woman should be trapped
.
Sister smiled.
I have missed you
.
I'm going with you
, I said.
What?
I sat up in bed and looked down at her.
I'm going with you
, I repeated.
To Chicago
.
Would your brother mind?
Heavens no
.
I need to leave here
, I whispered.
Chicago, then
, said Idalia.
I lay there steering my thoughts from David to Chicago over and over again. Every time my mind leaned toward Davidâhis heat, his desireâI steered it back to Chicago.
As my head got heavier, it became clear that my problems would all be solved by going to a new place. I would start anew. No one would know me and I would not hold myself back.
T
he next morning I stalled, hoping David would turn up before we left. I felt I couldn't leave without saying good-bye, or maybe without finding out if he would fight for me.
Sister went to Donnelly College to visit her friend and we made plans to meet at the bus station at noon.
I packed the few things I had in my bag as Caroline watched.
You can't carry that awful old satchel
, she said.
Let me help you
.
She gave me her turquoise suitcase with silver metal trim, put it on the bed, and popped it open. Then she pulled some dresses and skirts out of her closet and took out the hangers.
What are you doing?
I asked.
Just a few things to tide you over. I'm tired of them anyway
, she said, folding them gently into the suitcase.
David came in and stood in the doorway.
What's this?
he said to Caroline.
You going back to Charlie?
Caroline took a garter belt, a pair of stockings, and a half-slip from the bureau and tucked them into the elasticized pocket in the lid.
What's going on here?
David insisted.
Our girl's moving on
, said Caroline.
I slid past him and sat to put my shoes on.
He followed me, standing close.
What is this?
I was shaking so bad I couldn't fasten my shoes.
He bent over.
Doll
, he said.
I didn't look.
He got down on his knees in front of me, slid his arms along my body until he held me by the hips.
Stop
, he said.
Just stop
.
I'm leaving
, I said.
He shook his head.
Don't be silly. What are you talking about? What's she talking about?
he said to Caroline.
I fastened my shoe and thought, If I don't stand up right this minute, I'll never leave here.
I understand
,
doll. It's all too much. We can
,
we can slow it way down
,
right, Caroline? We can all just take her easy
.
No
, I said.
He put his forehead on my lap. I touched his hair, slid my palm along his whiskers one last time.
I would have learned to love you better
, he said, looking up at me. His longing washed over me, made me sweat. It's what I wanted, to be looked at like that.
Come on
,
doll. I've got no aces here
.
I have to go
. I left then, telling myself all the while, This step. Now this. Now this. Now this.
I
DALIA'S FRIEND DROPPED
her off at the bus station and they lingered by the car a long time. They hugged and her friend pulled away first, taking Idalia by the shoulders, before getting back in the car with a quick snap of her habit.
Idalia watched her drive away, watching long after the friend was out of sight, then she walked slowly into the station.
She nodded at me like she'd lost her voice.
We bought our tickets and waited in silence.
You can talk to me if you want
, I told her.
I know
. She looked at her hands and closed her eyes. She was so sad she breathed slowly.
Are you talking to God right now?
She nodded.
Tell Him I said hello
.
She smiled.
Tell Him yourself
.
Oh
,
I can't. I'm in the devil's hands
, I said with a grin.
Are you
,
now?
she said.
I nodded.
Her name is Sophia
, said Sister.
The nun? Your friend?
Sister looked out the window.
I met her when we were both novices
,
sat next to her in Latin. She was just terrible
,
had no knack for it. I don't recall her ever conjugating a verb correctly. And oh
,
Sister Helen would get so angry
,
red in the face
,
but Sophia remained calm
,
unaffected. I fell in love with her
, she whispered.
I thought
,
Here is a person who can wear the world so lightly. Who wouldn't love her? Who wouldn't want to be by her side forever?
You got in trouble for loving her?
Of course. But there's no real effective punishment for love. Is there?
W
e boarded the big chrome bus, and in a matter of minutes, it felt like our whole lives were behind us, everything we'd known and done.
I thought about my family, the kitchen table, Laura, school, Soldier Creek and David, Gill's lesson and Caroline's arching back, the small, hot stage at the club, and it felt like too much to have to let go of all at once. I cried. Then this voice in my head said,
I'll give you five minutes for this sadness and no more. Do you hear me?
Out the window, the fields passed in a blur of gold and light.
For the first few hours of the trip, I felt nauseous, a thin layer of sweat covered my body. Sister gave me a sandwich but I couldn't eat, so I just let it sit on my lap.
I watched Sister think about her love, pain radiating off her like a fever. I had long thought of love as a thing I'd like to hurt, and with Sister suffering from it, I wanted to beat it, rip its hair out. It was surely the thing to avoid at all costs.
A woman across the aisle stared at me and at the sandwich in my lap.
Would you like this?
I asked her.
She waved her head and hand no.
Please
, I said.
I can't eat it
.
She took it from me slowly. DziÄkujÄ, she said. (“Thank you.”)
Nie ma za co, I told her. (“It's nothing.”)
Her eyes grew large when she heard her native tongue.
Moja matka jest Polkạ, I said. (“My mother is Polish.”) I thought about my mother and then I tried to stop.
She continued to talk happily, though I understood little. Eventually she was content to just nod and smile occasionally.
After a few hours, we crossed the border into Illinois.
Have you been to Chicago?
I asked Sister.
Yes
, she said.
To see Ricky. Naomi
,
Ricky is not like other men
.
Well
,
that can only be good news
, I said.
Sister laughed.
Aren't you worldly now?
Am I going to fall in love with him?
I asked.
Sister smiled.
Probably
, she said.
But maybe in a way that won't hurt as much
.
Oh, terrific, I thought.
C
HICAGO AT NIGHT
was a rushing, sparkling, raging city that surged and sang with life. When we unloaded ourselves at the station and stepped out into the wind and the speed of the town, I was slammed with the certainty that this was my home.
But first I had to go back into the bus station and be sick. As I steadied myself against the stall for a moment, I heard a woman crying in the one next to mine. I looked down and saw the brown carpetbag of the Polish woman from the bus. I left my stall and knocked on hers, asking if she was sick. JesteÅ chory?
She came out, her face wet, speaking way too fast. I gleaned that she was alone and lost but that somewhere in this big city there was an enclave of other Poles.
Sister knew of the Polish Triangle and we took the woman there.
It's not out of our way
, Sister told her loudly.
There was a small grocery in the Polish Quarter with a sign in the window that read
MÃWIMY PO POSKU
(“We speak Polish
”
). I asked the man behind the counter to help us.
You look like a proud man
, I said, touching his arm. His back straightened and he introduced himself to the Polish woman, who flooded in her native tongue. They laughed as he led her to a chair, and they were already talking about the war when we began to leave.
The woman rushed toward me then, digging in her bag for a piece of paper and a pencil nub. She asked me to write down my name and address. I wrote my name and Sister wrote Ricky's address. The woman told me she'd send me a letter of thanks. W jÄzyku angielskim. In English.
Sister nearly dragged me to Ricky's apartment. There was so much to look at, so many different kinds of people, such a concentration of life. I felt nearly invisible in that rush of humanityâirrelevantâand it was refreshing. I got the idea that what I did, who I was, wouldn't matter a lick in that big city.
I stopped Sister and held her arms.
This is the perfect place to make a new beginning
, I said.
She said nothing and smiled weakly like she had never wanted to make a new beginning.
We turned on to a noisy, dirty street that was bustling, even at the late hour. Sister opened the front door of a tall old apartment building and we climbed three flights of stairs. She knocked and the door opened almost immediately.
Her brother threw his arms around her and I was startled because he was wearing a long woman's robeâblue with large orange flowers and white cranesâwhich I was sure belonged to a woman he had there.
Are we intruding?
I said, before I could even shake his hand.
Heavens
,
no
, he said,
I've been waiting on this one for months. Months!
Ricky took Sister's face in his hands and said,
Jesus
,
what did they do to you?
You look perfectly terrible. Let me take your coat
, he said, helping her out of it. When he snatched Sister's hat, she immediately put her hand to her head like she could hide it somehow. Ricky gasped,
My God
,
your beautiful hair
. He slowly reached out for her head, pulled it close, and kissed it.
It's just hair
, said Sister.
Ricky touched his own shaved head.
We look like we just got back from the war
,
you and me. Happy homecoming
,
huh?
And you
, he said to me,
the troubled girl?
Sister shot him a scowl.
What? I feel like I know her
.
It's all so scandalous
.
We tell each other things
, Sister said to me.
I'm sorry
.
You don't know the half of it
, I said, dropping my coat on the hall tree.
Neither of you
.
Ricky gasped.
She's terrible
, he said as he walked a circle around me.
Not to mention brimming with potential
.
I smiled at him and tried to figure out what was different about his face. It was his eyebrows. He didn't have any. I looked around his apartment. There were scarves over the lamps, tapestries hung on the walls, piles of books and records on the floor, and it smelled like a mixture of hairspray and cigarettes. Surely a woman was around there somewhere.
I studied a black-and-white photograph on the mantel.
Veronica Lake?
I asked.
I love her
.
Ricky laughed and so did Sister.
I knew we were going to get along
, he said, and Sister shook her head.
It's me
,
kitten
, he said.
The lady is me
.
S
ISTER AND I
slept on a pallet of blankets and pillows on the floor. I woke to Ricky tiptoeing around the apartment in pedal pushers and a red checked shirt with a bright blue scarf wrapped around his head.
Oh
,
did I wake you?
I shook my head no and climbed up on a stool at the little kitchen island. Ricky made coffee and filled the sink with water. He took a bottle of shampoo from the cupboard and poured a capful into the sink. The way he moved made me jealous.