Breakfast at Tiffanys-19
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I did. It was too implausible not to be fact; moreover, it dovetailed with O.J.Bermans description of the Holly hed first entered in California: "You dontknow whether shes a hillbilly or an Okie or what." Berman couldnt be blamed fornot guessing that she was a child-wife from Tulip, Texas.
"Plain broke our hearts when she ran off like she done," the hors<q></q>e doctorrepeated. "She had no cause. All the housework was done by her daughters.
Lulamae could just take it easy: fuss in front of mirrors and wash her hair. Our owncows, our own garden, chis, pigs: son, that woman got positively fat. While herbrrowed into a giant. Which is a sight different from how they e to us.
Twas Nellie, my oldest girl, twas Nellie brought em into the house. She e to meone m, and said: Papa, I got two wild yunguns locked i. I caughtem outside stealing milk and turkey eggs. That was Lulamae and Fred. Well, younever saw a more pitiful something. Ribs stig out everywhere, legs so puny theyt hardly stand, teeth wobbling so bad they t chew mush. Story was: theirmother died of the TB, and their papa dohe same -- and all the churren, a wholeraft of em, they bee off to live with different mean people. Now Lulamae andher brother, them two been living with some mean, no-t people a hundred mileseast of Tulip. She had good cause to run off from that house. She didnt have o leave miwas her home." He leaned his elbows on the ter and, pressinghis closed eyes with his fiips, sighed. "She plumped out to be a real prettywoman. Lively, too. Talky as a jaybird. With something smart to say on everysubject: better than the radio. First thing you know, Im out pig flowers. I tamedher a crow and taught it to say her name. I showed her how to play the guitar. Justto look at her made the tears spring to my eyes. The night I proposed, I cried like ababy. She said: What you want to cry for, Doc? Course well be married. Ive neverbeen married before. Well, I had to laugh, hug and squeeze her: never beenmarried before!" He chuckled, chewed on his toothpick a moment. "Dont tell me thatwoman wasnt happy!" he said, challengingly. "We all doted on her. She didnt haveto lift a finger, cept to eat a piece of pie. Cept to b her hair and send away forall the magazines. We mustve had a hunnerd dollars worth of magazines e intothat house. Ask me, thats what do. Looking at show-off pictures. Readingdreams. Thats what started her walking down the road. Every day shed walk a littlefurther: a mile, and e home. Two miles, and e home. One day she just kepton." He put his hands over his eyes again; his breathing made a ragged noise. "Thecrow I give her went wild and flew away. All summer you could hear him. In theyard. In the garden. In the woods. All summer that damned bird was calling:Lulamae, Lulamae."
He stayed hunched over and silent, as though listening to the long-ago summersound. I carried our checks to the cashier. While I aying, he joined me. We lefttogether and walked over to Park Ave was a cool, blowy evening; swankyawnings flapped in the breeze. The quietness between us tinued until I said: "Butwhat about her brother? He didnt leave?"
"No, sir," he said, clearing his throat. "Fred was with us right till they took him inthe Army. A fine boy. Fih horses. He didnt know what got into Lulamae, howe she left her brother and husband and churren. After he was in the Army,though, Fred started hearing from her. The other day he wrote me her address. So Ie to get her. I know hes sorry for what she done. I know she wants to gohome." He seemed to be askio agree with him. I told him that I thought hedfind Holly, or Lulamae, somewhat ged. "Listen, son," he said, as we reached thesteps of the brownstone, "I advised you I need a friend. Because I dont want tosurprise her. Scare her hats why Ive held off. Be my friend: let her know Imhere."
The notion of introdug Mrs. Golightly to her husband had its satisfying aspects;and, glang up at her lighted windows, I hoped her friends were there, for theprospect of watg the Texan shake hands with Mag and Rusty and José was moresatisfying still. But Doc Golightlys proud ear eyes and sweat-stained hat mademe ashamed of suticipations. He followed me into the house and prepared towait at the bottom of the stairs. "Do I look nice?" he whispered, brushing his sleeves,tightening the knot of his tie.
Holly was alone. She answered the door at once; in fact, she was on her way out-- white satin dang pumps and quantities of perfume announced gala iions.
"Well, idiot," she said, and playfully slapped me with her purse. "Im in too much of ahurry to make up now. Well smoke the pipe tomorrow, okay?"
"Sure, Lulamae. If youre still around tomorrow."
She took off her dark glasses and squi me. It was as though her eyes wereshattered prisms, the dots of blue and gray and green like broken bits of sparkle.
"He told you that," she said in a small, shivering voice.
"Oh, please. Where is he?" She ran past me into the hall. "Fred!" she called dowairs. "Fred! Where are you, darling?"
I could hear Doc Golightlys footsteps climbing the stairs. His head appearedabove the banisters, and Holly backed away from him, not as though she werefrightened, but as though she were retreating into a shell of disappoi. Then hewas standing in front of her, .99lｉb?ngdog and shy. "Gosh, Lulamae," he began, aated, for Holly was gazing at him vatly, as though she couldnt place him.
"Gee, honey," he said, "dont they feed you up here? Youre so skinny. Like when Ifirst saw you. All wild around the eye."
Holly touched his face; her fiested the reality of his , his beard stubble.
&quo<var>?9９lｉｂ?</var>t;Hello, Doc," she said gently, and kissed him on the cheek. "Hello, Doc," sherepeated happily, as he lifted her off her feet in a rib-crushing grip. Whoops ofrelieved laughter shook him. "Gosh, Lulamae. Kingdom e."
her of them noticed me when I squeezed past them a up to my room.
Nor did they seem aware of Madame Sapphia Spanella, who opened her door andyelled: "Shut up! Its a disgrace. Do your wh elsewhere."
"Divorce him? Of course I never divorced him. I was only fourteen, fods sake.
It couldnt have been legal." Holly tapped ay martini glass. "Two more, mydarling Mr. Bell."
Joe Bell, in whose bar we were sitting, accepted the order relutly. "Yourero the boat kinda early," he plained, g on a Tums. It was not yetnoon, acc to the black mahogany clock behind the bar, and hed alreadyserved<cite></cite> us three rounds.
"But its Sunday, Mr. Bell. Clocks are slow on Sundays. Besides, I haveobed yet," she told him, and fided to me: "Not to sleep." She blushed, and glancedaway guiltily. For the first time since Id known her, she seemed to feel a ojustify herself: "Well, I had to. Doc really loves me, you know. And I love him. Hemay have looked old and tacky to you. But you dont know the sweetness of him, thefidence he give to birds and brats and fragile things like that. Anyone whave you fidence, you owe them a lot. Ive always remembered Do myprayers. Please stop smirking!" she demanded, stabbing out a cigarette. "I do saymy prayers."
"Im not smirking. Im smiling. Youre the most amazing person."
"I suppose I am," she said, and her face, wan, rather bruised-looking in them light, brightened; she smoothed her tousled hair, and the colors of itglimmered like a shampoo advertisement. "I must look fierce. But who wouldnt? Wespent the rest of the night roaming around in a bus statiht up till the lastminute Doc thought I was going to go with him. Even though I kept telling him: But,Doc, Im not fourteen any more, and Im not Lulamae. But the terrible part is (and Irealized it while we were standing there) I am. Im still stealing turkey eggs andrunning through a brier patch. Only now I call it having the mean reds."
Joe Bell disdainfully settled the fresh martinis in front of us.
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