Evening star. [volume], July 21, 1940, Page 7, Image 77

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
.1 Short Story Complete on This Page
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IN the morning the fog came rolling off the
Thames, so that twilight came at noon,
and by sundown the traffic was creeping
and the bus drivers were thankful for the
white markers along the curbs. It was a night
of which people would speak, thus: “Fog!
Why 1 remember back in ’40 ”
Under the circumstances, a blackout seemed
hardly necessary, and yet that night when the
enemy came riding his radio beam in from the
east, there rose the shrill dirge of the sirens,
and in her room Eleanor felt again the thrill
she knew only when the city hid in the dark,
as a small boy buries his head under the pillow
in a thunderstorm.
She felt for and found her coat in the closet,
slipped it on, and hurried down the stairs. At
the foot of the steps she bumped into Mother
Marlin, and stumbled, and Mother Marlin,
the landlady, caught her and said: “Are you
going out again, Eleanor? Why do you always
go out i.. these blackouts? Bad enough in here,
waiting for goodness knows what, without
wandering around out there.”
“Oh, I'll be all right.”
“I wish you wouldn’t go. It’s terribly dan
gerous. You might meet — who knows — ”
"Why, you might meet the nicest people in
a blackout,” Eleanor said. “It’s an adventure,
a lovely adventure — out there in the night.
“Do be careful, dear!”
“I will,” Eleanor promised, and then her
feet felt the hard, grating stone of the side
walk, and she breathed deep and felt the fog
wet and cool upon her face, and she advanced
into the London night.
She hesitated, after a few yards, and
stretched for the wall of the building line. Her
swift, slender lingers recognized the conform
ity of the brick, and she knew exactly how
many steps she had progressed from her door,
and how many more she'd take before she
reached the corner, for she had always lived in
the neighborhood.
At the corner she stopped and listened
carefully.
There were no more traffic noises, but she
imagined that far above she heard a plane’s
engine singing high.
Then from down the street she
heard a man's hesitant step, and the
sound told her he was faltering her
way as if the broad walk were an
unexplored cave riddled with pit
falls, When he was quite close she
heard a soft thud.
“I beg your pardon,” the man
said. There was no answer, and no
sound for a moment; then he blurted,
"Damn! Sandbags!”
Eleanor laughed. She knew it was
a bit cruel to laugh at a stranger
stumbling into sandbags, but the
laugh just slipped out.
"I say,” the man called. “Hello
there?” He shuffled forward. "There
is someone, isn't there?”
"Oh, yes,” Eleanor said. “Having
trouble?”
Ifrp
1 rouble!” He chuckled, pleas
antly, from the depths of his chest.
"Trouble! 1 don’t know what street
I'm on! I was lost even before the
blackout. Eog. Now - well, you can
see for yourself.”
“No, I can’t see, any more than
you can,” Eleanor said. She knew
from his voice he was a young man.
Not Oxford, but a university voice
nevertheless. She felt she knew this
voice, but then she realized it was not the
voice that was familiar, but the scene and the
meeting, for this was the way she had always
dreamed it would be.
"Can you tell me what street I’m on?” he
asked.
"Bradley Lane.”
"Pretty far off; horrible navigator,” lie
said. “Thought I was on Queen’s Road.”
“It’s three squares over. I’ll lead you to it,
if you’d like.”
"Awfully good of you.”
She heard his shoes shift uncertainly. "Stay
where you are,” she ordered, “and I’ll come
over to you.” She walked to his side, and
found his sleeve with her hand. Tweed. Soft,
and of good texture. She guessed that he was
rather stockily built, and just a bit taller than
herself.
"This way,” she said, and piloted him
across the sidewalk, carefully measuring and
counting the steps. At the corner she halted
him, and said, “Curb!”
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EL
“You must have eyes like a cat’s,” he said
as they crossed.
“Well, not exactly.” Nine more steps now,
and they’d reach the other side. “Step up,”
she commanded.
“This is marvelous,” he said. “Great thing
for a blackout. Beautiful girl to guide you
home. Ought to take it up with the govern
ment.”
“I’m not beautiful,” Eleanor told him
soberly, but she realized her heart was racing,
for she had always known this was what he
would say.
“I think you’re beautiful. I can’t see you,
but 1 think I know what you look like. I
should say your hair is fair, and you wear it
long so that it falls like a golden mantle over
your shoulders — ”
“Poet?” she suggested.
“No, chemist. And you have blue eyes, and
you’re fairly tall — I can tell that, all right.”
“I am rather tall,” she admitted. She
hadn’t guessed he would be a chemist.
They safely crossed another intersection
and reached a third, and this was as far as
Eleanor ever went.
“Well,” she said, “here we are now, on
Queen’s Road.”
“You can’t lead me any further?” he asked,
and took her hand. It seemed completely
natural that he should do so.
No, I'm sorry, I can’t,” she said. This
was going to be the hard part. This was the
part that wasn’t quite clear, but always in
her dream she skipped from here to the next
time she met him.
“Oh, now. Miss See-In-The-Dark, you
aren’t going to just drop me, are you? You
can't just come out of the night, and then fall
back in again. Why, I’d wonder about you all
the rest of my life. Won’t allow it.”
“I’m afraid!” she said.
He spoke earnestly: “You really shouldn’t
be afraid — not of me. My name is Robert
Conway, and my friends think I’m quite re
He faltered as if the walk
were riddled with pitfalls
spectable, and I’m unmarried, and I do des
perately want to know you. Let’s stop here
until the ‘all clear’ sounds, and then we can
look at each other. If you don’t like my looks
we’ll say goodby, and if you do, let’s have a
Cocktail together, or tea.”
“No!” she cried. ‘‘No, I couldn't possibly.”
Now she was supposed to tell him what was
wrong, and he was supposed to say it didn’t
matter, but that wasn’t the manner in which
it was working out, because far away she
heard the first “all clear” whistle, and she
knew that in a few minutes the lights would
go up again, and he’d be able to see her.
For an instant she pressed herself close to
him, and tried to make the words come out,
but they wouldn’t.
“Goodby!” was all she could say. “Good
by, don’t follow me, please!”
She hurried back towards Mother Marlin,
and her room, and found that-she was run
ning, although for her to run was very dan
gerous indeed.
“Wait!” he shouted. “Wait, please!”
But she hurried on, without turning, be
cause she knew that his blackout was only
temporary, while hers was forever.
Thn End