“Oh, look,” said Mr. Copperfield, pointing to the forest. “Do you see the difference? Do you see how enormous the trees are and how entangled the undergrowth is? You can tell that even from here. No northern forests ever look so rich.”
“That’s true, they don’t,” said Mrs. Copperfield.
The bus finally stopped at a tiny pier. Only three women and the Copperfields remained inside by now. Mrs. Copperfield looked at them hoping that they were going to the jungle, too.
Mr. Copperfield descended from the bus and she followed reluctantly. The driver was already in the street smoking. He was standing beside Mr. Copperfield, hoping that he would start another conversation. But Mr. Copperfield was much too excited at being so near the jungle to think of anything else. The three women did not get out. They remained in their seats talking. Mrs. Copperfield looked back into the bus and stared at them with a perplexed expression on her face. She seemed to be saying: “Please come out, won’t you?” They were embarrassed and they started to giggle again.
Mrs. Copperfield went over to the driver and said to him: “Is this the last stop?”
“Yes,” he said.
“And they?”
“Who?” he asked, looking dumb.
“Those three ladies in the back.”
“They ride. They are very nice ladies. This is not the first time they are riding on my bus.”
“Back and forth?”
“Sure,” said the driver.
Mr. Copperfield took Mrs. Copperfield’s hand and led her onto the pier. A little ferry was coming towards them. There seemed to be no one on the ferry at all.
Suddenly Mrs. Copperfield said to her husband: “I just don’t want to go to the jungle. Yesterday was such a strange, terrible day. If I have another day like it I shall be in an awful state. Please let me go back on the bus.”
“But,” said Mr. Copperfield, “after you’ve come all the way here, it seems to me so silly and so senseless to go back. I can assure you that the jungle will be of some interest to you. I’ve been in them before. You see the strangest-shaped leaves and flowers. And I’m sure you would hear wonderful noises. Some of the birds in the tropics have voices like xylophones, others like bells.”
“I thought maybe when I arrived here I would feel inspired; that I would feel the urge to set out. But I don’t in the least. Please let’s not discuss it.”
“All right,” said Mr. Copperfield. He looked sad and lonely. He enjoyed so much showing other people the things he liked best. He started to walk away towards the edge of the water and stared out across the river at the opposite shore. He was very slight and his head was beautifully shaped.
“Oh, please don’t be sad!” said Mrs. Copperfield, hurrying over to him. “I refuse to allow you to be sad. I feel like an ox. Like a murderer. But I would be such a nuisance over on the other side of the river in the jungle. You’ll love it once you’re over there and you will be able to go much farther in without me.”
“But my dear — I don’t mind … I only hope you will be able to get home all right on the bus. Heaven knows when I’ll get home. I might decide to just wander around and around … and you don’t like to be alone in Panama.”
“Well then,” said Mrs. Copperfield, “suppose I take the train back to Colon. It’s a simple trip, and I have only one grip with me. Then you can follow me tonight if you get back early from the jungle, and if you don’t you can come along tomorrow morning. We had planned to go back tomorrow anyway. But you must give me your word of honor that you will come.”
“It’s all so complicated,” said Mr. Copperfield. “I thought we were going to have a nice day in the jungle. I’ll come back tomorrow. The luggage is there, so there is no danger of my not coming back. Good-by.” He gave her his hand. The ferry was scraping against the dock.
“Listen,” she said, “if you’re not back by twelve tonight, I shall sleep at the Hotel de las Palmas. I’ll phone our hotel at twelve and see if you’re there, in case I’m out.”
“I won’t be there until tomorrow.”
“I’m at the Hotel de las Palmas if I’m not home, then.”
“All right, but be good and get some sleep.”
“Yes, of course I will.”
He got into the boat and it pulled out.
“I hope his day has not been spoiled,” she said to herself. The tenderness that she was feeling for him now was almost overwhelming. She got back on the bus and stared fixedly out the window because she did not want anyone to see that she was crying.
* * *
Mrs. Copperfield went straight to the Hotel de las Palmas. As she descended from the carriage she saw Pacifica walking towards her alone. She paid the driver and rushed up to her.
“Pacifica! How glad I am to see you!”
Pacifica’s forehead had broken out. She looked tired.
“Ah, Copperfield,” she said, “Mrs. Quill and I did not think we would ever see you again and now you are back.”
“But, Pacifica, how can you say a thing like that? I’m surprised at both of you. Didn’t I promise you I would be back before midnight and that we would celebrate?”
“Yes, but people often say this. After all, nobody gets angry if they don’t come back.”
“Let’s go and say hello to Mrs. Quill.”
“All right, but she has been in a terrible humor all the day, crying a lot and not eating anything.”
“What on earth is the matter?”
“She had some fight, I think, with her boy friend. He don’t like her. I tell her this but she won’t listen.”
“But the first thing she told me was that sex didn’t interest her.”
“To go to bed she don’t care so much, but she is terribly sentimental, like she was sixteen years old. I feel sorry to see an old woman making such a fool.”
Pacifica was still wearing her bedroom slippers. They went past the bar, which was filled with men smoking cigars and drinking.
“My God! how in one minute they make a place stink,” said Pacifica. “I wish I could go and have a nice little house with a garden somewhere.”
“I’m going to live here, Pacifica, and we’ll all have lots of fun.”
“The time for fun is over,” said Pacifica gloomily.
“You’ll feel better after we’ve all had a drink,” said Mrs. Copperfield.
They knocked on Mrs. Quill’s door.
They heard her moving about in her room and rattling some papers. Then she came to the door and opened it. Mrs. Copperfield noticed that she looked weaker than usual.
“Do come in,” she said to them, “although I have nothing to offer you. You can sit down for a while.”
Pacifica nudged Mrs. Copperfield. Mrs. Quill went back to her chair and took up a handful of bills which had been lying on the table near her.
“I must look over these. You will excuse me, but they’re terribly important.”
Pacifica turned to Mrs. Copperfield and talked softly.
“She can’t even see them, because she does not have her glasses on. She is behaving like a child. Now she will be mad at us because her boy friend, like she calls him, has left her alone. I will not be treated like a dog very long.”
Mrs. Quill overheard what Pacifica was saying, and reddened. She turned to Mrs. Copperfield.
“Do you still intend to come and live in this hotel?” she asked her.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Copperfield buoyantly, “I wouldn’t live anywhere else for the world. Even if you do growl at me.”
“You probably will not find it comfortable enough.”
“Don’t growl at Copperfield,” put in Pacifica. “First, she’s been away for two days, and second, she doesn’t know, like I do, what you are like.”
“I’ll thank you to keep your common little mouth shut,” retorted Mrs. Quill, shuffling the bills rapidly.