The Regrets of Cyrus Dodd Page 6

  “It’s getting dark,” Ruth said nervously. “Is it far?”

  “I don’t think so.” He lifted the suitcase and both of the small crates into his arms and gave a nod. “We go down three blocks then make a left on Clark Street.”

  Ruth tagged along dodging his footsteps. “Did they say how far down it was on Clark Street?”

  “No, but he said most of the boarding houses have signs out front.”

  It took almost fifteen minutes to reach Clark Street, and by the time they turned onto it the sky was nearly black.

  “I feel kind of frightened walking around here in the dark,” Ruth said. “We don’t know a soul. What if—”

  Cyrus kept walking. “Don’t worry, we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  They walked for another twenty blocks, but there was no sign of a rooming house, hotel or tavern where they could stop to ask directions.

  “I thought we’d be there by now.”

  “I did too,” Cyrus said and stopped.

  Clark Street was now lined with large houses set back from the road. The houses had manicured lawns and beds of chrysanthemums in bloom. It did not look like a street where they were likely to find a boarding house or hotel. He set the bundles down on the corner and turned to Ruth.

  “This might be the wrong street. I saw a bunch of lights off to the side a few blocks back. Maybe we should’ve turned there.”

  He eyed the bundles, which, after carrying them for the past half hour, had grown quite heavy.

  “It’d be a lot faster if I run back there and check it out by myself. You can wait here with this stuff.”

  “By myself?” Ruth said apprehensively. “In the dark? In a town where I don’t know a single soul?”

  “You’ll be fine,” Cyrus replied. “Just sit on the suitcase and take a rest.”

  Before she had time to object again, he darted off.

  Ruth had been sitting there no longer than a minute or two when she heard a whooshing sound. It came in short quick bursts, again and then again. Nervously she ventured forth and saw a figure moving in the walkway across the street. Inside the house there was a lamp aglow in the front window, and it lit the walk. When she moved past the large oak tree, Ruth saw it was an old woman with a topknot of silver hair.

  “Excuse me,” Ruth called out.

  The woman jumped and turned with her broom raised in the air.

  “You scared the bloomers off me!” she yelled. “What are you doing out here?” Seeing the size of Ruth she lowered her broom and stepped forward.

  “We just got off the train, and we’re looking for a hotel or rooming house where we could spend the night.”

  “There’s just one train,” the woman said suspiciously, “and it goes through Wyattsville at seven o’clock. It’s near nine now!”

  “We’ve been walking for a while,” Ruth replied.

  The woman moved to the end of her walkway and peered down the street.

  “We who?” she said. “I don’t see anybody but you.”

  Ruth gave a weak smile and pointed to the stack of bundles. “That’s our stuff. Cyrus, my husband, said he saw some lights a few blocks back and went to check. He told me to stay here and keep an eye on our stuff, but I got nervous sitting alone in the dark.”

  “Shoot, nobody’s going to bother you out here. This is a nice neighborhood. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of.”

  “That’s a relief,” Ruth said then asked the woman for directions to a nearby hotel or boarding house.

  The woman chuckled. “Why, there’s nothing but private homes from here to the edge of town. You want a boarding house, you’ve got to go four, maybe five miles the other way.”

  A deep sigh rattled up from Ruth’s chest, and the weariness of the day settled on her face.

  “Oh, dear,” she said. “I think that’s the direction we came from.”

  The woman moved closer and looked eye to eye with Ruth. “You don’t look so good, sweetie. You want something to drink? Some water or sweet tea?”

  “Oh, I would dearly love a glass of tea,” Ruth replied.

  “You stay here, I’ll get it.” The woman turned and disappeared back inside the house.

  Still worried because she’d left the suitcase and crates sitting on the corner, Ruth crossed back to where they were and one by one carried them over to the edge of the walkway in front of the house. She was carrying over the last crate when the woman returned.

  “There you are,” the woman said with a smile. “For a minute I thought you’d left.” She handed Ruth the glass of tea. “Sorry to be so long. I’m not nearly as fast as I used to be.”

  Ruth stacked the crates one on top of the other and sat on them. The woman sat opposite her on the low stone wall that circled the house. They began to talk, and once they’d settled into a conversation Ruth told of how they’d left Elk Bend and come to Wyattsville so Cyrus could find work with the railroad.

  “There’s not much work in Elk Bend unless you’re a farmer,” she said, “and after what happened with the farm…”

  “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” the woman replied. “My Arnold worked for the West Virginia and Pittsburgh Railroad all his life, and he’d still be there if it wasn’t for his heart.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re from West Virginia,” Ruth said.

  “Born and bred,” the woman answered. She stuck out her hand. “Prudence Greenly of the Greenbrier Greenlys.”

  “Well, as I live and breathe,” Ruth said with a laugh. “Greenbrier’s just a long hop, skip and jump from Elk Bend. This surely is a small world.”

  By the time Cyrus finally returned, Prudence and Ruth were sitting there talking like lifelong friends. Ruth introduced them and said, “You won’t believe this, but Prudence here is from Greenbrier.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Miss Prudence,” Cyrus said and stuck out his hand. After they’d passed a few pleasantries back and forth, he asked the same question Ruth had asked.

  “Do you know of a rooming house or hotel nearby?”

  Before Prudence could answer Ruth shook her head and gave a rueful look.

  “There is none,” she said. “We’ve got to go back to the station then go the other way.”

  “Yes, but that’s five miles, at least,” Prudence said. “Way too far to walk at night and especially carrying all these bundles.” She gave a wide grin. “Why don’t you stay the night here and get a fresh start in the morning?”

  “We wouldn’t be a bother?” Ruth asked.

  “Shoot, no. There’s three bedrooms in this big old house, and I’d welcome the company.”

  “Well, if you’re really sure,” Cyrus said, but by then he’d already hoisted the bundles into his arms.

  Prudence led the way through the center hall. She stopped for a moment, snapped on the hallway light and led them up the curved staircase into a large and quite lovely bedroom. Ruth gasped

  “Oh, my gosh, it’s beautiful!”

  “Thank you,” Prudence said modestly. “My sister, Emma, used to love this room. Every summer she came to spend a month with us. This is where she always stayed.”

  “Doesn’t she come anymore?” Ruth asked.

  Prudence shook her head, and a look of sadness washed her face.

  “Emma’s gone,” she said. “They all are. Now it’s just me.” She turned toward the door. “Y’all get a good night’s rest, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  There was something about Prudence that was a reminder of her mama, and Ruth couldn’t help herself. She came up behind her and hugged the old woman tightly.

  “You get a good night’s sleep too, Prudence,” she said.

  That night the moon was high in the sky before Prudence fell asleep. For hours she’d laid there, thinking back on the wonderful times she and Arnold had in the house. When she thought back on the parties, she could almost hear the sound of laughter echoing through the rooms. Then there were the long afternoons when she and Emma would sit in the
garden having tea, talking incessantly for hours.

  Now she did none of that. After Arnold’s death she’d shut herself away, seldom venturing out other than to sweep the walkway. She’d taken to telephoning for the groceries to be delivered, and on Sunday morning she would sit alone and read her Bible instead of donning a hat and walking the five blocks to attend Mass. The only one she still spoke with was Arnold, and he never answered. At times she thought she heard him whispering a word or two in her ear, but it was just a breeze stirring the trees outside her window.

  Prudence sat up in the bed, plumped her pillow for the third time and fell back into it. By then she’d made her decision.

  An Easy Job

  Before Cyrus opened his eyes, he caught the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. For a moment he thought he was back in Elk Bend, but the bed was softer than he was accustomed to and he could feel Ruth’s back pressed up against his. He opened one eye and saw the silk draperies at the window. That’s when the memory of the previous night came back to him. He turned and gave Ruth’s shoulder a gentle shake.

  “Wake up,” he whispered. “We’ve got to get going.” Not waiting for her answer, he climbed from the bed and pulled his trousers on.

  Ruth sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Going where?”

  Cyrus tugged his suspenders onto his shoulders. “We need to find a place to live while it’s light out. A furnished flat or maybe a boarding house.”

  “Do we have to hurry?” Ruth dropped back onto the pillow. “This bed is so comfy I hate to leave it.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to,” Cyrus said, “or we’ll end up walking around in the dark again tonight.”

  Ruth swung her legs to the side of the bed, stood and stretched. As she stepped into her skirt and smoothed it over her hips, she looked around admiringly. Her eye missed nothing. The tiny blue flowers in the wallpaper were the exact color of the comforter and the carpet a blend of blues that had the look of an evening sky.

  “I wish we could stay here forever,” she said with a sigh.

  “Well, we can’t so hurry up and get dressed.”

  Prudence Greenly heard the bedroom door squeak open. It was a sound she knew well. Emma was a late sleeper, and when she used to visit Prudence would wait patiently for the door to squeak open so they could sit together and have their morning coffee.

  “Good morning,” she called out when she saw Ruth on the stair. “I hope you slept well.”

  “Very well,” Ruth said happily. “How could I not in such a beautiful room?”

  Cyrus was right behind her, his arms loaded with the suitcase and crates. Seeing this Prudence waved him back.

  “Leave those up there and come to breakfast.”

  Cyrus was on the verge of saying they had to be on their way, but then his nose caught a familiar scent.

  “Is that bacon I smell?”

  Prudence’s grin stretched the full width of her face. “It certainly is. There’s also gravy and biscuits.”

  “Well, if you’re sure it’s no bother,” he turned and set the bundles on the far side of the landing.

  Prudence led the way through the kitchen to a cozy breakfast alcove. “This is where Arnold and I used to have our morning coffee. Emma too when she was visiting. I like it because the window overlooks the garden.” She gave a wistful sigh. “It’s only chrysanthemums right now, but when the spring flowers bloom it’s truly beautiful.”

  Ruth eyed the garden just as she’d eyed the carved banister of the staircase, the potted plant on the kitchen windowsill, the dotted Swiss curtains and the flowered napkins at each place setting.

  “Everything here is beautiful,” she said. “It must be heavenly to live in such a place.”

  “At one time it was.” Prudence scooped a pile of bacon onto a plate and handed it to Cyrus. “But now it’s rather lonely.” She filled a second plate and handed it to Ruth. “Other than my gardener and the grocery store delivery boy, weeks can go by before I see someone.”

  Ruth tilted her head and gave a look of concern. “But there must be neighbors.”

  “Of course, but they’re busy with their own lives.”

  “Well, once we’re settled in, I promise to come and visit once a week,” Ruth said. “Unless we’re on the far side of town; then I may have to make it every other week.”

  Still chewing on a piece of bacon Cyrus asked, “Yes, now where exactly did you say those rooming houses were?”

  “That’s the thing,” Prudence replied. “They’re quite a ways from here. Ten or fifteen miles at least.”

  “I thought you said four or five.” He gulped a swig of coffee.

  “I’ve thought about it again. More like ten, I’d say. And not in the best part of town either.” Prudence noticed the worry ridges tugging at Ruth’s forehead. She reached across with a bony hand and patted her arm. “Don’t you worry, sweetie, I’m not going to send you over there.”

  Cyrus gave her a quizzical look. “Do you know of another place?”

  Prudence bobbed her head up and down. “You could stay here. I have more rooms than I need and—”

  Ruth did a double take. “I didn’t think this was a boarding house.”

  “It isn’t,” Prudence said. “But last night I got to thinking about how lonely living here by myself has been. Having you hug me was like having Emma back again, and it made me feel good clear down to my toes. So I talked it over with Arnold—”

  “Wait a minute,” Cyrus cut in. “I thought you said Arnold was dead.”

  “I said passed on,” she corrected. “But be that as it may, after you’ve been married to someone for thirty-eight years you come to know what they’re going to say even if they’re not around to say it.”

  “Oh,” Cyrus said, but the confused look remained on his face.

  “Anyway, I told Arnold it made absolutely no sense for me to be living all alone in this big house when two nice young people from West Virginia were in need of a place to stay.”

  “And what did Arnold say?” Cyrus asked tentatively.

  “He agreed.”

  Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “It’s a nice house for sure, but I don’t even have a job yet and we can’t really afford—”

  “That’s exactly what I told Arnold! I said, ‘Arnold, this young couple doesn’t look like they’ve got two dimes to rub together, and the fellow is in need of a job.’” She gave a sheepish grin. “You know what Arnold said?”

  Ruth leaned in. “No, what?”

  “He said, ‘Prudence, I left you comfortable as you need to be, so if having these young folks here makes you happy, then have them stay and don’t charge them a dime.’”

  “We can’t accept that,” Cyrus said. “It’s the same as charity, and we don’t—”

  Prudence waggled her finger. “I’m not finished!” She hesitated then continued. “Arnold knew you’d say that, so he suggested you could help with a few chores in exchange for room and board.”

  “I’d be more than happy to do so,” Ruth replied.

  Cyrus still had a doubtful look stuck to his face. “I’m not so sure about this.”

  When it sounded as though Cyrus was going to turn down the offer, Ruth reached beneath the table and poked his thigh. After hearing a bit more about Arnold’s suggestions, they finally reached an agreement. Ruth and Cyrus would stay for two or three weeks and then if they were unhappy or Prudence found them too underfoot, they’d move out and find a place of their own.

  “By that time you’ll have a job and a better overview of Wyattsville, so deciding what to do will be easier,” Prudence assured Cyrus.

  After breakfast Cyrus carried the crates to the bedroom that was to be their home for at least the next few weeks, and Ruth happily tucked her things away in the dresser drawers.

  That afternoon Cyrus took the streetcar crosstown and walked down to the Southern Railroad yard. Following Prudence’s instructions, he asked at the office for Leonard Farley.

  “He’s out by the switching
station,” the attendant said. “You need help with something?”

  “I’m looking for a job,” Cyrus replied. “Missus Greenly said—”

  “Prudence Greenly?”

  Cyrus nodded. “Yeah. Her husband used to—”

  “I knew Arnold.” The attendant came from behind the desk and extended his hand. “Stanley Gorsky. Call me Stan.”

  Cyrus gave his name and shook the hand that was offered.

  “Were you a friend of Arnold?” Stan asked.

  Cyrus shook his head. “The missus and I, we’re new in town. We’re staying with Prudence Gree—”

  “You’d have loved Arnold,” Stan cut in. “Everybody did. We all said, best boss we ever had.”

  “About the job…”

  “You got it,” Stan said. “Any friend of Arnold’s is a friend of mine.”

  “I didn’t actually know Arnold,” Cyrus reminded him. “I know Prudence Greenly but—”

  “Same thing.” Stan fished through the drawer of his desk and pulled out a work form. “Fill this out. You can start tomorrow as a trackman. Work is seven A-M to six P-M, and it’s two dollars a day. That okay with you?”

  “Trackman?” Cyrus distinctly remembered Booger Jones saying his brother had started as a grader and worked his way up to trackman.

  Stan nodded. “It’s the best I got available right now. But I’ve got you at the top of the list for switchman.”

  “Trackman’s good,” Cyrus said. “I’m happy to get it.”

  Blowing right past Cyrus’s answer, Stan said there was sure to be a switchman spot opening up within a few weeks, a month at the most. Cyrus sat and filled out the form, which was basically his name, address and next of kin, and then handed it back to Stan.

  “Okay, we’re all set.” Stan shoved the work form into the drawer without even glancing at it. “Be here tomorrow seven A-M, and I’ll get you started.”

  As Cyrus turned toward the door Stan called to him. “Tell Prudence Stan Gorsky says hi, okay?”

  “Yeah,” Cyrus said, “I’ll do that.”