‘I can’t take any more of this, Sam,’ Abby said. ‘I can’t!’
Travis and Louise had come home drunk again. They had been coming home drunk most nights, ever since they arrived at the house on Clover Hill three months earlier. Abby hadn’t wanted them to stay. It wasn’t because of what Louise had said, although it was partly that. It wasn’t even because Travis had so clearly demonstrated his contempt for them by bringing her home at all. It was because she knew, she knew, that Travis would set about destroying the even tenor of Sam and Abby’s life with sadistic, sardonic pleasure. And she was right. The very first morning after their arrival, when Sarah the maid took them their breakfast tray, Travis greeted her in the hallway, buck-naked and grinning like a wolf. The maid had fled screaming to the housekeeper; both had quit on the spot. That was only the beginning. There had been a procession of new servants since; all lasted about the same time, a day, two, maybe four. They all left the same way: outraged by either Travis’ behavior, Louise’s language, or both.
Then on top of that there was the fact that both of them slept till noon every day, drank whenever the mood took them, fought like cat and dog every half hour on the hour, and every night, rain or shine, went on a round of the Manhattan gambling joints, returning in the small hours, noisy and, as usual, drunk. There had been complaints from the neighbors, threats to call the police, black looks on the street. Clover Hill was considered to be a very nice class of place to live in New York. People didn’t take kindly to drunks falling about in the street at three in the morning, swearing at cab drivers, shouting and singing. Decent folks needed a good night’s rest. They all had to work the next day.
Of course to say something like that to Travis was about the equivalent of waving a cape at a fighting bull: he’d go after it just for the hell of it. The more folks complained, the more Travis jeered at them. Finally, one of them took a swing at him. Drunk as he was, Travis had beaten the man to a bloody mess and left him unconscious in the street. He laughed when they protested and told the policeman who came to the door that if he didn’t take himself off, damned if he wouldn’t give the patrolman some of the same treatment.
They’d managed to calm things down before the patrolman sent for a paddy wagon and had Travis locked up but, as Abby told Sam, it was only a matter of time before he did something else.
‘Well, what the Hell can we do, Abby?’ Sam said vexedly. ‘He’s our son, after all!’
Well, she thought, but wisely held her tongue. ‘Sam, he’s a man grown. He can’t freeload off you forever. He eats your food, drinks all your whiskey, comes and goes just as he damned well pleases, and you don’t seem to give much of a damn, one way or the other.’
‘Abby, Abby,’ Sam said. ‘What can I do? You know what Trav is like. That mean streak of his—’
‘You’re afraid of him!’ Abby interjected, suddenly realizing what it was.
‘No,’ Sam said. ‘Of course not!’
‘You are!’ she insisted. ‘My God, Sam! I can’t believe it!’
‘I couldn’t fight him, Abby,’ Sam said. ‘If it came to a fight, I – couldn’t hit him.’
‘God damn you, Sam Strong!’ Abby said. ‘You mean you’re leaving it to me?’
‘He’ll listen to you, Abby. He respects you. The girl does too.’
‘Her,’ Abby said scornfully.
‘I’ve seen the look on her face,’ Sam insisted. ‘She likes you.’
‘Be that as it may, Sam, I don’t like her. And I don’t like the way they’re treating our home.’
‘What do you want to do?’
‘I want you to tell them to go, Sam.’
‘I … Hell, Abby, isn’t that a bit harsh? They got no place to go.’
‘Then let them find someplace!’ Abby snapped. ‘I’m sick and tired of being treated like a skivvy in my own house!’
‘Don’t yell at me!’ Sam said. ‘He’s your son too, don’t forget!’
‘I’ll yell all I damned well please!’ Abby said, raising her voice. ‘I feel like yelling!’
‘And what the Hell do you think that’ll solve?’
‘It doesn’t have to solve a damned thing!’ Abby shouted. ‘It just makes me feel better!’
‘What’s the matter, Ma?’ Travis had come into the room without either of them hearing him. Abby jumped at the sound of his voice.
‘Do you have to sneak around the damned place like an Indian?’ she squalled. ‘You like to made my heart stop!’
‘Didn’t want to interrupt you,’ Travis grinned. ‘It sounded like a real good fight. Didn’t it, Lulu?’
‘Sure did,’ Louise said, coming in from the hallway. ‘What’s all the ruckus about, Abby?’
‘You want to know?’ Abby said, storm signals flying. ‘You really want to know?’
‘Abby,’ Sam said warningly.
‘Let me guess,’ Travis said, with that goading grin of his. ‘You were arguin’ over whether you love me better than Louise.’
‘Love?’ Abby snapped. ‘What did you ever know about love?’
‘Only what you taught me, mother dear,’ he sneered. ‘You—’
‘Hell, Abby, don’t let him get you riled up like that,’ Louise said, trying to mediate. ‘He’s just mean-mouthed, that’s all.’
‘If he is, he learned it from you!’ Abby retorted.
‘Hey!’ Louise said. ‘What did I do?’
‘Would you care for a list?’ Abby said sweetly.
‘Well, shit!’ Louise said in disgust. ‘Listen, you ain’t no day at the beach yourself, you know that?’
‘You little slut!’ Abby said getting to her feet, ‘I’ve had all your lip I’m going to take. I won’t stand for any more of it!’
‘What you gonna do, Ma?’ Travis grinned. ‘Sock her?’
‘Get her out of my house!’ Abby said, every trace of her anger leaving her. Her voice and eyes were as cold as pack-ice and there was no mistaking the sincerity of her meaning. ‘Get your slut out of this house!’
‘Louise is my wife, Ma!’ Travis said and there was a dangerous edge to his voice now. ‘Be careful what you call her!’
‘What could I call her,’ Abby said, ‘that she has not been?’
‘What she was before don’t matter!’ Travis said, raising his voice. ‘What she is now, does. Louise is my wife and I demand that you accept her on that basis!’
‘Demand?’ Abby snorted. ‘You don’t demand anything from us, young man! You have never in your life brought a penny piece into this house, so you have no right to demand anything. Especially to demand that we close our eyes to this … creature.’
‘Listen, Travis,’ Louise said. ‘Don’t fight no more. Let’s—’
‘No, goddammit!’ Travis said. ‘This is my home. I’m entitled to live here. I don’t have to ask permission!’
‘Nobody said otherwise, Trav,’ Sam said placatingly. ‘What your mother means—’
‘I’ll tell him what it means!’ Abby blazed. ‘Since it’s plain as a pikestaff you won’t, Sam Strong. I won’t have this, you hear me? If she stays, then I go! It’s that simple!’
‘And that’s it?’ Travis said. ‘You’re making all the decisions, is that the size of it? God Almighty again, eh Ma?’
Abby said nothing, just glared at her son. She was hating herself for saying the things she was saying and yet no power on earth could have prevented her from doing so.
‘Listen, Travis, come on,’ Louise said. ‘We don’t want to stay if we’re not wanted.’
‘I thought you’d stand by me!’ Travis said bitterly. ‘I thought that was what your parents were supposed to do.’
‘We’re trying to, Trav,’ Sam said. ‘You’re not making it any easier.’
‘You agree with her?’
‘Your mother and I—’
‘Don’t give me any of that “your mother and I” crap! I don’t want no sermons!’
‘Come on, Travis,’ Louise’s voice was harder now. ‘Let’s get the Hell out of this place.’
‘Yes, get the Hell out of here!’ Abby said. ‘And the sooner the better!’
‘You going to let her do this, Pa?’ Travis said, tears of rage in his eyes. ‘You going to let her turn us out into the streets?’
‘That’s where she belongs, isn’t it?’ Abby regretted the words the moment she had uttered them. Travis looked at her, a vein throbbing in his temple. There was a wild light in his eyes.
‘If you were a man,’ he said softly, ‘I would have killed you for what you have said tonight.’
‘Is that your reply to everything?’ Abby said. ‘Killing?’
‘You’ll see there are all sorts of ways to do that,’ Travis said, and his very control made Abby uneasy.
He grabbed Louise’s hand and dragged her out of the room. Two hours later they were gone.