But when he got to my fine scheme, my frozen food, he almost had a spell with his breath, he hated it so. “If there’s one side of the Americans that arouses only my contempt, it’s their genius for standardization, their acceptance of it, their pride in it, as though there were merit in their damned assembly line. Glory be to God, is this what you’ve arrived at, with your conquest of oil, your bravery in France, all the other things you’ve done, that you’ll put Detroit on a trailer, and haul it to Carolina, Tennessee, Louisiana, and places that have been fit, until now, for a man to live in! Ford going to Dixie — there’s a project for you! I hate every part of it, from the way it sounds to the way it looks to the way it tastes to the way it smells!”
“Well, thanks.”
“You’re wholly welcome.”
“I wasn’t asking you, however.”
“You’re still welcome, and many of them.”
We must have come closer though, because it didn’t upset me much. Then, some days later, just like he’d never blown his top at all, he said: “I’ve thought of your scheme, the central kitchens, the distribution, the advertising, Miss Dumb and Miss Bright, and I feel they’re an inspiration, that you’re on the right track. As I say, the whole thing revolts me, but it’s your life we’re planning, not mine. As your friend, your very amusing friend, Mrs. Branch, so cogently observed, you’re a romantic.”
“This is business.”
“This is penance.”
“This is — what did you say?”
“This is the act of contrition you feel you must make to all these women you seduced, or think you did. In my own opinion, it was a plain case of abduction, with you in their arms, the victim of their wiles. I don’t subscribe to your notions of women — they’re quite as prehensile as man, as physical, as grasping, and as ruthless. I feel you were taken, as they say. But in yourself, there’s some sense of guilt. Perhaps it’s my fault, for letting you sing as a child, and acquire a special picture of yourself, in a blue velvet suit, with flowing tie and rolled-down collar, and women figuring maternally, as though you were too holy to defile. Whatever the reason for this macula, you’ve been touched. Now, you want to make up for it. You want to strike the shackles from women, to free the sex from the labors it’s heir to, redeem man, by this sacrifice, for the wrongs he has done them, at least in your imagination, forever and ever, in sœcula sœculorum, amen. But at the same time you want to give them a piece of your mind, lecture them on the waywardness of their characters, tell them what you think, get them down on their knees. You seek to feed them and emancipate them and raise them to the heights with one hand, and give them a good spank on their delicious little bottoms, with the other. ’Tis a strange conceit, but yours, and it’ll work. I loathe it, and wish it well. It’s yours, and will bring you health, happiness, and success.”
And so far he’s been right. As I correct the last of this, there has been a price break, with things, stocks, and bonds tumbling all down the line, and plenty of people are nervous. I guess I am. But I’m not afraid, bitter, or helpless any more. Whatever you think of this idea I’ve got started on, I like it, which is what my father couldn’t say for the idea he got started on. I like it, I know how to pull it off, and I believe in it. If I can haul a bunch of American women out of kitchens and put them somewhere else, I don’t care if it’s only picture shows, I’ll settle for that, because I think picture shows are a better place for them to be. And whether it’s worth doing or not worth doing, the country I’m doing it in seems mine, which it didn’t before. I did some work for it and I helped fight for it — one night, no more, but also one bullet, no less. It’s not, from where I sit at least, a mess I didn’t make but have to take the rap for. There’ll be tough times, I don’t kid myself about that, if not this year then another year. But, unless I louse myself some way I don’t foresee now, I’ll have the heart to face them.
All that time, free as he talked about women, my father never once brought up Helen, the girl in Charleston, or anything in connection with them, which I thought was funny, as they were the key to everything else. But then one day he said: “I’ve located your little friend Helen.”
“... Did I ask you to?”
“I took it upon myself.”
“Taking things upon yourself, you might have found out by now, isn’t always indicated. I appreciate your interest, but something has intervened.”
“The little lady in Charleston?”
“Finding her would have been a help.”
“I still bet on Helen.”
“Why, may I ask?”
“The context of your narrative. Over all that you’ve written she presides like some little divinity. She’s in your blood, she’s part of you. It’s the fool who doesn’t know when a woman is part of him, that lets specious things, small, meaningless things, come between.”
“It’s over. Try minding your business.”
“I won’t.”
I wrote on, and patched, and rewrote, as he corrected. And then one day I heard his bell. I came down from my workroom, crossed the back yard, and found him on the sun porch. He had me sit down, looked shifty, and fidgeted for several minutes. Then: “She’s in there waiting for you. You’d better see her.”
“Who?”
“The little one. Helen. In my study.”
“There it goes! Goddam it, why did you do this to me?”
I blew my top, but good. I wanted to know if he’d ever let my life alone, so I could live it, and not have it loused. “And especially as I’ve told you repeatedly, that’s over. If it wasn’t over, the Charleston thing would have killed it. Why did you do this?”
“I did what I thought best. She was away all winter, but at last she came home, and I got her on the phone. She holds things against you, most grievously. But, when I told her she was the only woman in your life, it seemed to me I’d made an impression. Then when I made a personal matter of it, explaining I was too feeble to visit her, she consented to visit me. And discuss it with me. Sheila and Nancy are out on an errand I arranged, and you, so far as she knows, are still in the Army, somewhere in the South. But, before I left her just now and wheeled myself out here, I made progress with her on a number of matters, and cleared up some things. I think, when you learn how I pieced them together, you’ll have some admiration for me.”