The Challengers (14 page)

She sat up with an effort and viewed the purple mirage indifferently.

"Very pretty! Very pretty, my dear. But say, Genie, darling, isn't it almost time we had a little refreshment of some sort? I feel almost as if I should be drowsy. A little drink would wake us up."

"Sure thing!" agreed Eugene. "Just as quick as I see a likely place where they'll have something real."

Melissa was not alarmed at these words, being far too ignorant of the ways of the world and the road to take anything special out of such a suggestion. In fact, she welcomed the idea. She was healthily hungry, for the oatmeal and milk and bacon and toast of the morning had become a forgotten dream in the excitements of the last two hours.

But when they drew up at a doubtful-looking roadside pavilion on the edge of a woods and they were seated at one of the rustic tables, she discovered that it was not to eat but to drink that they had stopped their journey, and not water they were supposed to drink, not even soda water. The names of liquors that had until now been, to Melissa, merely names were bandied about familiarly in the Hollisters' attempt to get something that they considered really worth drinking. They seemed utterly amazed and not a little disgusted with her that she ordered only a glass of milk and would not be entreated to taste any of the liquors offered. They were having pretzels with their drinks, so Melissa ordered a hot dog and satisfied her hunger.

Mamma Hollister, after a brief bit of chatter after lunch, during which she smilingly let a great many family cats out of their respective bags and aired several family skeletons merrily, including her son Gene's recent divorce suit, settled off into another nap.

Melissa, feeling that she was a little lost sheep strayed off willfully into the unknown world, set herself to talk to this man of the world on topics that would be safe and help her keep her distance and her self-respect. She tried scenery, and discovering that he had been abroad several times, she began to ply him with questions about Swiss scenery, the Alps, Italy, and France, but he veered at once to questionable stories of Parisian nightclubs and girls he had known abroad. She tried the subject of books, and he gave her a five-minute account of a story that she had heard of only because it had been banned. Then he slipped into talk about the movies and stars he had known, told anecdotes that made her feel as if she had been caught in the flow of a sewer, laughed heartily at his own rotten jokes, and ragged her about her own solemnity. He asked her if she had no sense of humor, and she tried to change the subject again back to the safety of college life, relating some of her own experiences that she had always counted most thrilling, escapades of such comparative innocence that he stared at her as if she had been a child of three masquerading as a woman. Then he went on to tell some of his own flagrant college stories, and her eyes grew wide with dismay, remembering that this college of which he was talking was the very one in which her brother had spent four years. Had Steve been through things like this? Did he know that such things went on? Oh, this couldn't all be true! Surely this man must be just talking to astonish her!

She sat back silent, displeased, wondering what to do to bring the conversation back to a sane, normal place. Her head ached, her face was burning with shame, and her eyes were heavy with weariness and excitement.

"Why so silent, darling? Not sore are you?" he said suddenly, his bold black eyes staring close into hers to the utter disregard of the wheel he was managing.

Melissa drew a deep breath and tried to smile with dignity. She was still trying to make it appear that she had not heard some of his ribald jokes, had not understood, trying to pleasantly ignore them. A compromising policy that made her most uncomfortable, yet she reasoned that there was nothing else she could do as long as she had to finish out the ride with him and, furthermore, must return with him after two days. She couldn't spend the butcher's money for her poor mother to repay. She simply must get back again with these people; therefore, she must not anger this young man.

She tried to wear an air of sophistication, to pretend that she was not bothered with the outrageous things he said. She knew that young people today, many of them, called such talk "frankness" and dubbed anyone who objected to it "Victorian." Well, she had sometimes argued with her mother that she was far too particular, but now she began to change her mind. Her soul revolted at the things that were being said to her in this offhand way, as if it were quite a common way to speak. Yet all the time she had a dread in the back of her mind that this young man saw she was unsophisticated and was trying to see just how much she would stand for. She was divided between a desire to have him understand that she was no prude and a great wish to strike his handsome filthy lips.

She reflected that if it had been Phyllis in her place, she would have probably told the young man long ago just where she stood and that he could not speak so to her and have her remain in the car with him. Phyllis would have flashed angry eyes at him when he tried to put his arm around her. Phyllis would even have got out and walked if it came to that. And suddenly she understood why her mother would have sent Phyllis instead of herself.

Melissa had always thought that she herself was far better able to cope with people who were what she called "fresh" than Phyllis. She had always argued that to ignore evil was a better way of handling it than to be so frankly offensive against it. Yet now suddenly Melissa felt that she had failed utterly to create the impression she so much desired, and she began to wonder if after all Phyllis were right in her method.

They stopped for dinner at a grand hotel, and the Hollisters kindly insisted that Melissa was to be their guest. She felt small and unhappy and choked as she tried to eat. And once again she had to refuse the various drinks they offered, choosing only coffee. They laughed at her good-naturedly; Mrs. Hollister patted her hand as if she had been a child and called her very abstentious, which somehow managed to sound like contempt, and Melissa's discomfort grew. She was thankful to learn that the college town to which they were traveling was only fifty or sixty miles farther on; thankful again when they went out to the car and found it dark that Mrs. Hollister asked her to sit in the backseat with her so she could talk with her a little while.

The conversation during that last fifty miles was general, mixed with a good deal of laughter about nothing Melissa felt. She sat back, tired and worried, and wondered why she felt like crying. Here she was on her very first long automobile trip in a grand car, saving the family money by going without expense to look after her brother, and yet she somehow felt that every step she went she was displeasing them all and making more trouble for herself. It was just that she was tired and excited. That must be the explanation, for of course she had done perfectly right to come. She
had
to come.

So she braced herself, sat up, and tried to laugh and be good company, talking of things about which she knew nothing, just talking to make talk. It seemed a nightmare that would never end, and her weariness was growing almost sickening now. Late in the afternoon young Hollister charged her with being silent, and she had pled that she was sleepy. He had at once tried to make her lay her head on his shoulder and take a nap, and since then she had scarcely dared to wink, lest the offer would be repeated. She felt as if she were fighting a force she did not understand, and it frightened her.

She had always in a quiet way rather chaffed at the conventionalities with which her family had surrounded her, but now to her amazement she found that she resented any breaking down of the barriers. She wondered with a weary sigh what it all meant. Was she somehow spiritually hampered by her upbringing, so that even if she had the chance she could not unbend and do as the world was doing?

But she was altogether too tired to think it out and was more glad than she dared to own when she saw the lights of the college town at last coming into view.

Suddenly she forgot her fears and thrilled to the thought that she was actually here, seeing Steve's college. The other things fell away; she forgot that her brother was lying in bed with a broken leg and a questionable record, forgot that her journey had been strenuous and her companions terrifying at times and that she had to go back again quite soon with them. Forgot even that she was not sure her family would be pleased that she had come at all. She just looked with delight on the twinkling lights that beckoned to her from every charmed window.

"And which is the hospital?" she asked suddenly, recalling with a pang her strange, unpleasant reason for being there at all.

"Blamed if I know," responded Gene indifferently. "Seems to me they said something about its being changed. It used to be in the basement of the science building, just behind the dining halls, when I was here, but it might be in that new dorm over there. It won't take long to find out. We'll step into the office and see."

But when they reached the office, they were told that the accident cases were in a nearby village at the new hospital that had just been built. They were taken there when the accident happened, and it had been impossible to move them. Besides, they have more facilities for caring for serious cases.

Melissa's heart sank. Then Steve's was considered a serious case. She turned pale and felt in a real panic. She turned for explanation and comfort to young Hollister, but he seemed as chipper as a bird with no idea of anxiety. But then he might perhaps have more information about his brother. They likely had talked over long distance before they started and were not alarmed. He turned to go back to the car.

"Come on, darling," he addressed her flippantly. "I'll run you over there."

"But," said Melissa, hesitating, "hadn't I better ask where I am to stay tonight?"

"Oh, there'll be a hotel in the village somewhere," he answered carelessly. "They wouldn't know anything about it here."

"A hotel!" said Melissa in dismay. "But I thought--why----wouldn't they expect me to stay here? That's the way families of students always did at my college in case of the sickness of a student."

"Stay
here
? Holy mackerel, kid!" said Hollister, facing rudely about and staring at her. "What do you think this institution is? A nursery? No, darling, this is a university! Anyone that visits here looks out for himself. They certainly would howl you down in a hurry if you were to suggest such a thing."

A wave of deep color swept over Melissa's tired, pretty face, and troubled dignity sat upon her as she still hesitated.

"But oughtn't I to go first to see the president? Or the dean? He was the one who telegraphed to Mother. Wouldn't he think it strange that I did not come straight to him? Won't he be wondering that he has not heard from my brother's family?"

"They're both out of town tonight," snapped the desk clerk shortly, but Gene Hollister laughed immoderately.

"The president! The dean? Sweet Mamma! How do you get that way, kid? Don't you know there are thousands of students here? Do you suppose the president and the dean run around feeding them every two hours and taking their temperature? Come along, kid. I'll show you the ropes. We can go over to the hospital and get wise to conditions, and then we'll find a hotel and get dinner and have a large evening, see a picture, have a dance or something. Come on! The Mater will be sound asleep again and that would be too bad!"

So in a new dismay Melissa followed him out to the car. He seemed to think he had brought her along to have some kind of celebration or picnic. What should she do? And a hotel? She must not stay in a hotel. She could never pay for even the cheapest room without using Mr. Brady's money, and she simply must not do that. That was only for an emergency, which she fondly hoped would never arise. As for having these Hollisters pay her board, that was not to be thought of even if she had to sit up all night in some railroad station.

The hospital was a big pretentious building, and Melissa felt overawed as she entered; but when she went to the desk for information, she was appalled to find that while Jack Hollister was established in a private room, one of the best in the place, her own brother was in the ward! A Challenger lying ill among the poorest of the poor! That hit the Challenger pride hard. She felt indignation that someone in the college had not cared for him better than that. Poor Steve! He knew the family was hard up, and he had likely told them to put him there. Her eyes filled with tears, and she turned away to hide them. But when she turned back to the desk and the starched white-capped person who presided there, she found that the Hollisters had gone off to see Jack and left her to her own fate. And her fate was that it was after hours to visit the ward and she would have to wait until tomorrow!

She stood aghast, the tears really coming now and rolling down her white tired cheeks.

"But I must see my brother at once!" she said. "I've traveled all day to get here, and my mother will be frightened to death if I don't telephone her at once how he is."

The nurse eyed her thoughtfully, asked where she lived, ran over a bunch of record cards, consulted with a ward nurse who was passing and who studied Melissa indifferently, and finally relented.

"You could go to the door and look in," she said. "Your brother is right next to the door and you could see him, but he won't know you. He's under opiates. It wouldn't do you much good, but you can look in on him if you like."

Melissa, who had never been in a hospital but once or twice before and then to take flowers to a friend who had had her tonsils out, walked the portentous halls with her heart beating wildly. The whiteness and cleanliness, the odors of disinfectant, the far cry of a baby, the utter stillness in the dim recesses made her feel as if she were walking among tombs.

Steve unconscious! He must be a great deal worse than they had feared. She held the little overnight bag as it if weighed a ton, and her feet seemed loaded with lead. She could hardly keep up with the nurse who led the way.