The Challengers (10 page)

Just before they went to bed, Phyllis remembered Steve's phone call and told them about it. She made it quite commonplace, telling that he had promised to take "someone" to a dance, which was why he needed new clothes so badly. Somehow that seemed so much better than to say "a girl" in the tone Steve had used.

Mother understood, and a cloud of worry sat in her eyes for a moment during the talk, but as Phyllis went on to say that she had told him their circumstances, she relaxed again and commented:

"Poor boy! But I'm glad you told him. He wouldn't otherwise have understood why we couldn't help him in a crisis like that. I'm sorry he had to know before he was done, but it won't be long now before he can come home and understand it all."

They had a merry time getting to bed, finding the right sheets for each bed, finding their various night garments that Phyllis had had to stuff into any drawer that would hold them, finding their hairbrushes, and locking up the new house for the night. After they were all settled in the three nice little upstairs bedrooms that opened out into the hall in a triangle and seemed so friendly and cozy, the cuckoo clock sang forth the hour of midnight, and they all cheered him. Good old cuckoo! He was theirs still, and they were not starving, either.

And so at last they settled to sleep. But no one had seen Rosalie in her little white nightgown, kneeling in the darkness by her bed before the others were ready, her curly head buried in her pillow, praying that God would give them a place where Father could rest and get well.

They were all nervously exhausted, and everyone slept very late the next morning, so that when they woke they had to hurry to get some breakfast together and get the two children off to school.

It was just before they left for school that a boy came to the door with a telegram.

"Challenger live here?" he asked.

The mother's hand trembled as she opened the envelope. She thought at once of course of her husband, whose life had hung for so many months in the balance.

But the telegram was not from the hospital. It was signed by the dean of Steve's college. It said:

 

Your son Stephen Challenger in hospital with broken leg and concussion, result of an automobile accident last night. He was driving a borrowed car. Nobody fatally injured. Challenger doing as well as could be expected.

The family stood in absolute silence and watched their mother read the telegram. They could tell by her face that it was bad news. Her lips grew ashen. Phyllis was afraid she was going to faint again and put out her hand to steady her.

"Is it Father?" Melissa caught her breath in fear.

The mother shook her head and handed the telegram to Phyllis.

"Read it," she said from a dry throat and dropped into the nearest chair.

Phyllis read the telegram slowly, her young face hardening. So, it was that girl again after all! How glad she was that she had not mentioned the girl. Mother needn't bear that part anyway.

There was an awful silence again while the family looked at the future as at another blank wall shutting them in from all that was right and good.

Then the mother spoke.

"How much money have you got, Phyllis?"

"Nineteen dollars and forty-three cents," said Phyllis deprecatingly. "It wouldn't be enough for carfare, would it? At least not both ways."

"Somebody ought to go at once," said the mother in a pained voice, "but I don't see how we are to manage it."

"There is always the clock," said Phyllis thoughtfully, looking up at the exquisite carving of the little Gothic structure where the butcher had hung it reverently on a hook and set it ticking again.

"No," said Mrs. Challenger, "we mustn't use that. I tried to ask your father about it yesterday. I went down to the hospital after all, hoping to get to see him a minute and ask him about it. And they did let me in, just for fifteen minutes. Of course, I didn't dare tell him all we were going through, nor that we needed money. He would have taken alarm at once. He doesn't know of course about the closing of the bank where our bonds are, and he thinks we have plenty to get along on with care. He said that so peacefully and thankfully yesterday that I just let him think it. But I told him we were trying to find a better apartment if we could, that the landlady wasn't pleasant, and in speaking of moving I brought in the clock, said it was rather hard to move, did he care to keep it or should I try to sell it? He spoke up right away and said most insistently, almost peremptorily, that we must not part with it on any account. It represents a great sacrifice on the part of the boy who gave it to him, and someday he might come to see us and would expect to find the clock. He said he would rather sell the coat off his back than part with that clock, that it represented not only great devotion but a real victory in a life that had started on the downward track."

"Who was it, Mother, that gave it to him?" asked Melissa.

"Why, I can't remember his name. He was in college some years ago, and he only sent the clock last winter, you know, from somewhere in Europe. I had no chance to question your father, for the nurse came in and said he must not talk anymore. But I could see it would disturb him greatly if we were to sell the clock."

"If he knew just how things were," began Melissa, "perhaps he would feel differently."

"No, Lissa, I wouldn't want to ask him. There must be some other way, and a mere clock couldn't make much difference one way or another," said the mother firmly.

"There'll be some other way," said Phyllis. "I've got an idea, and I'm going out to try it out. If it materializes, maybe I can rake in a few dollars by night. No, I'm not going to tell anything about it. Likely it won't come to anything, and I can't stand being laughed at."

"But how are we going to find out about Steve?" asked Melissa. "Something's got to be done, hasn't there?"

"I'm going out to a telephone booth and get the dean or the hospital at once," said Mrs. Challenger. "It seems extravagant, but we've really got to know more before we can do anything, and anyway there's got to be some more money before anybody can go to Stephen. I think perhaps I might get in touch with our old college president in an emergency like this. . . ." Her voice trailed off vaguely. "I'll see what can be done about selling off the things in storage, too, and paying that debt."

"Couldn't we ask that nice butcher to lend us ten dollars more?" It was Melissa who ventured this.

"No, dear," vetoed the mother. "He has probably impoverished himself already with the things he has done for us. I couldn't think of asking. He would be embarrassed to say no, and he would feel he had to lend it if we asked, even if he couldn't spare it."

"I know," said Melissa, "I'll go and hunt up Mrs. Mowbray. She was always awfully fond of me when I used to go and play duets with Amelia. I'll ask her if she will lend us--how much money would we need to go to Stephen? Twenty-five dollars? Fifty? Would that be enough? Well, I could tell her that Father was sick, and the bank had closed that had our safe-deposit box with our bonds, and all of our ready money was gone. She would understand--I'll go!" said Melissa, watching her mother's face.

"Oh, my dear!" began her mother. "I do dislike to borrow from strangers, even from rich people. Of course, we could pay her back as soon as the bank opens again, but----"

"She likely won't be at home," said Phyllis sorrowfully. "Those rich people never are. She'll be in Palm Beach, or the mountains, or Europe or somewhere."

"Well, I mean to try anyway."

Then suddenly the young man of the house spoke. They had forgotten him in the general distress until now.

"Say, Mother, if that was a borrowed car, will Steve havta pay for it?"

"Oh, mercy! How could Steve pay for a car?" The mother turned white with dismay.

"He couldn't, but does he havta?"

"Oh, I don't know!" sighed the mother and dropped down with her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands again.

"Oh, Bob, don't bother Mother with questions now. Don't you see she's got just all she can stand?" put in Phyllis.

"I ain't bothering her, am I? I didn't smash up a borrowed car, did I? But I guess I gotta get busy and do something about it, ain't I? I'm the only man left in the house now."

"You'd better get busy and go to school," said Phyllis, suddenly looking at her watch. "Do you know it's twenty-five after?"

"Where's Rosalie?"

"Here I am," said Rosalie, emerging from the dining room door that went into the pantry, with a dewy look about her eyes and peace upon her brow; and somehow Phyllis knew what she had been doing and wondered. Rosalie's family was keeping her pretty busy praying these days. Would it do any good? Phyllis wondered.

"Yes, you must hurry to school," said the mother, rousing to the occasion. "There's no point in being late. You can't help out that way. Just do as well as you can, and don't worry, dears."

"Don't you worry, Muth," said Bob diffidently, suddenly flinging his arms about her neck and giving her a great bear hug. Then abashed, he rushed away, calling back to Rosalie to hurry.

With a sigh, the mother donned her look of worry and got up.

"I'll go right away and telephone, and if someone has to go, I guess it had better be Phyllis. I couldn't go without telling your father about Steve, and that might be serious just now when he's in such a critical condition. The doctor said it might be fatal if he worried."

"Why shouldn't I go, Mother? I'm the oldest," asked Melissa, thinking of the happy times and the glamour of a college town. She had always longed to visit Steve. She had hoped against hope that she might somehow get to his commencement.

"Well--" said the mother considering, "you might, of course, but--Phyllis is always so practical--and you hate nursing, you know."

"But he's in a hospital. He wouldn't need a nurse," protested Melissa.

"Well, we'll see, dear," evaded the mother. "I'm not sure anybody can go yet. It's all a question of money. Do you really think you would like to ask a small loan for a few days from Amelia's mother?"

"I certainly would," said Melissa cheerfully. "I'll go right away. I'll have to polish my shoes first and clean that spot off my suit, but I can get started in fifteen minutes, I guess."

"Well, I'm going out to try out an idea," said Phyllis, picking up her coat and hat that had been lying on a chair in the little hall. "I won't tell you what it is, but it will either work or it won't, and I'll likely be back inside an hour or two at most."

So they all went off, leaving Melissa dressing for a call on her fortunate friend's mother.

Melissa looked very pretty as she finally put on the last touch to her hair and pulled her small dark blue hat on. Of course, her shoes and gloves were a bit shabby, but she couldn't help that, and they had once been the best of their kind.

She hunted out her best handkerchief and put it into her handbag, with the two dollars that had been doled from the family treasury as her share for carfare and necessity.

Just as she turned from a last survey of herself in the mirror, she heard a knock on the door.

She hurried downstairs and found a good-looking young man standing impatiently, looking up at the front windows and then trying to peer through the muslin curtain Phyllis had pinned up last night for protection.

As she swung the door open, she caught a glimpse of a large shiny blue car, much benickeled, standing in front of the house with a lady of ample proportions in a handsome furred coat sitting inside. Melissa always knew what people wore. It was the first thing she usually noticed.

"Anybody by the name of Challenger live here?" demanded the good-looking man; and then getting a glimpse of Melissa he stepped back and lifted his hat.

"I am Miss Challenger!" said Melissa, lifting her pretty patrician chin with composure. And then, suddenly aware of his quick glance of surprise into the empty little living room behind her, she explained, almost haughtily, "We don't live here. We're just staying here a few days while we look around for another apartment."

"Well, I'm glad I've found you," said the young man. "I had all kinds of time and had almost given it up when I went into a butcher shop and found a man who said he knew you."

"Oh, yes," said Melissa, the color stealing up into her fair cheeks again. She hoped he wouldn't think the butcher was a relative or anything. "We--he--" she began and then realized that she did not have to explain to a stranger, and the stranger wasn't wanting an explanation.

"Well, my name's Hollister, Gene Hollister. Perhaps you've heard of my brother, Jack Hollister. I believe he's a classmate of your brother Steve, or a fraternity brother or something. But anyway, he went on the same joyride last night, and now he's in the same hospital with a busted rib and a nasty cut around his eye. And he called me up this morning and suggested some of Steve's folks might like to drive up with us today, so I came around to see. Tried to get you on the phone but couldn't get a response, so we just drove around. Any of the family like to go? My mother's out in the car with me, and she says you're mighty welcome."

Melissa eyed the wonderful high-powered car and the lady in the deep furs and gasped. What an opportunity!

"Oh, how wonderful of you!" she exclaimed. "But--Mother's not here. I don't know what to say. She went out to telephone the college about Steve. There isn't any phone in this funny little house. How soon do you start?"

"Why, we're on the way now. Sorry to hurry you, but the Mater is all kinds of anxious of course to see the kid and make sure he isn't hurt seriously. How soon will your mother be back?"
"Oh, I don't know. She didn't know what to do about Steve when she left. She had to see Father first. He's in the hospital, getting well of a long illness. I don't know when she will be back. If she only were here--but you ought not to wait. She mightn't be back all the morning. I'm not sure she could get away from Father to go. And my sister isn't here, either."

"Well, why don't you go yourself? It would be a nice ride, and it's a cinch your brother would be glad enough to see you." He added this with an almost too-admiring glance at Melissa.