arrive. She decided to go up to tell Miss Perry what was going on; Miss Perry would wonder when she heard a man’s voice.
Miss Perry was speaking more clearly now, and the doctor was pleased at how much she’d improved in a month. Miss Perry still had difficulty with prepositions. She had a theory that her grasp of prepositions would improve as she began to move around.
Elsie said, “A lawyer’s coming over this evening.”
“Is it Jack? I should very much like to see Jack.”
“No. It’s someone Jack recommended. We’re just going to go over some papers.”
Miss Perry said, “I see,” but after a moment she said, “What does ‘over’ mean?”
“Oh. Sorry. Go over, look over.
Over
is like on. You remember
on.
”
“ ‘Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.’ But you said, ‘Over.’ ‘A lawyer is coming
over.’
”
“I should have just said a lawyer is coming.”
“Very well. A lawyer is coming. Am I to meet with him?”
“No. He and I are just going to put a few things in order. I thought I’d tell you so you won’t worry when the doorbell rings.”
“All this fuss.” Miss Perry suddenly glared at Elsie. “It is tiresome. Now please go change your clothes. What will he think when you open the door? He’ll think you’re the cleaning woman. Your clothes are covered with something, I don’t know what.”
“It’s just bark. I brought wood in for the fire.”
“The fire is not … You look slubben … slubbenly.” Miss Perry closed her eyes and clenched her fist. She beat her forearm on her hip, not hard but over and over. She stopped and opened her eyes. “Slovenly.”
It was the feebleness that evaporated Elsie’s spurt of anger. She said, “All right. I’ll take care of everything.”
Elsie got to the bottom of the stairs and sat down. She felt dumb. What did she know that could change anything? How had she ever thought she knew what was going on? How had she imagined that anyone could do anything but mumble a few words about what little they knew? Jack’s lawyer’s words, the doctor’s what-we-know-about-the-brain words, her own wonders-of-nature chirps. They all might as well be Miss Perry exhaling stale poems and Latin prepositions and then a burst of bad temper. Every living thing had a few bubbles of one kind or another going in and out one kind of hole or another. When the in and out was over, it was back to matter. She saw it—particulate matter fluttering down through darker and darker water toward the seabed. A stupor spread through her, weighing down her arms, her chest, her head. She reached across her chest and put her fingers in the grooves of the newel post. They fit smoothly. She rested her cheek on the back of her hand, smelled her skin. She ran her fingertips up and down the grooves until another thought came to her. Not cheerier but on a smaller scale. Dick had told her she was spoiled, called her house “the toybox”—ofcourse, that had been part of his pleasure as well as his irritation. He should see her now. He should get down on his damn knees and think of her taking care of his baby, taking care of his friend and protector Miss Perry …
The truth was … The truth was she’d be doing everything she was doing anyway. She’d wanted a baby. She’d loved Miss Perry since her first Latin class. She wasn’t bossed into this by Dick. She wasn’t bossed into this by Jack. Maybe this paperwork she was about to do with some bozo protégé of Jack’s—that was something Jack owed her for.
When she opened the door to Johnny Bienvenue she didn’t get a good look at him. He was wearing an overcoat and scarf, and a hat with a brim. He pulled off his glove to shake hands, then turned toward the coatrack. She started off toward the library before he was through hanging up his things, and she was lighting the fire when he followed her in. She said, “I hope you don’t mind the uniform. I haven’t had a minute to change since I got
Miss Perry was speaking more clearly now, and the doctor was pleased at how much she’d improved in a month. Miss Perry still had difficulty with prepositions. She had a theory that her grasp of prepositions would improve as she began to move around.
Elsie said, “A lawyer’s coming over this evening.”
“Is it Jack? I should very much like to see Jack.”
“No. It’s someone Jack recommended. We’re just going to go over some papers.”
Miss Perry said, “I see,” but after a moment she said, “What does ‘over’ mean?”
“Oh. Sorry. Go over, look over.
Over
is like on. You remember
on.
”
“ ‘Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.’ But you said, ‘Over.’ ‘A lawyer is coming
over.’
”
“I should have just said a lawyer is coming.”
“Very well. A lawyer is coming. Am I to meet with him?”
“No. He and I are just going to put a few things in order. I thought I’d tell you so you won’t worry when the doorbell rings.”
“All this fuss.” Miss Perry suddenly glared at Elsie. “It is tiresome. Now please go change your clothes. What will he think when you open the door? He’ll think you’re the cleaning woman. Your clothes are covered with something, I don’t know what.”
“It’s just bark. I brought wood in for the fire.”
“The fire is not … You look slubben … slubbenly.” Miss Perry closed her eyes and clenched her fist. She beat her forearm on her hip, not hard but over and over. She stopped and opened her eyes. “Slovenly.”
It was the feebleness that evaporated Elsie’s spurt of anger. She said, “All right. I’ll take care of everything.”
Elsie got to the bottom of the stairs and sat down. She felt dumb. What did she know that could change anything? How had she ever thought she knew what was going on? How had she imagined that anyone could do anything but mumble a few words about what little they knew? Jack’s lawyer’s words, the doctor’s what-we-know-about-the-brain words, her own wonders-of-nature chirps. They all might as well be Miss Perry exhaling stale poems and Latin prepositions and then a burst of bad temper. Every living thing had a few bubbles of one kind or another going in and out one kind of hole or another. When the in and out was over, it was back to matter. She saw it—particulate matter fluttering down through darker and darker water toward the seabed. A stupor spread through her, weighing down her arms, her chest, her head. She reached across her chest and put her fingers in the grooves of the newel post. They fit smoothly. She rested her cheek on the back of her hand, smelled her skin. She ran her fingertips up and down the grooves until another thought came to her. Not cheerier but on a smaller scale. Dick had told her she was spoiled, called her house “the toybox”—ofcourse, that had been part of his pleasure as well as his irritation. He should see her now. He should get down on his damn knees and think of her taking care of his baby, taking care of his friend and protector Miss Perry …
The truth was … The truth was she’d be doing everything she was doing anyway. She’d wanted a baby. She’d loved Miss Perry since her first Latin class. She wasn’t bossed into this by Dick. She wasn’t bossed into this by Jack. Maybe this paperwork she was about to do with some bozo protégé of Jack’s—that was something Jack owed her for.
When she opened the door to Johnny Bienvenue she didn’t get a good look at him. He was wearing an overcoat and scarf, and a hat with a brim. He pulled off his glove to shake hands, then turned toward the coatrack. She started off toward the library before he was through hanging up his things, and she was lighting the fire when he followed her in. She said, “I hope you don’t mind the uniform. I haven’t had a minute to change since I got
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