Overload

11

"I may not be a blinkin’ hero like you," Thurston declared cheerfully, "but in this town I do have a little pull." He had been in another room of his home, telephoning, and had just returned to Nim, who was in the living room, wearing a borrowed bathrobe, his left hand bandaged, the right nursing a stiff scotch and water.

Thurston continued, "Your suit is being specially cleaned-no mean feat, let me tell you, on Saturday afternoon. It will be delivered here later."

"Thanks."

Thurston’s wife Ursula had followed her husband in, accompanied by her younger sister Daphne, who, with her infant son, was visiting Dewer from Britain. The two women were remarkably similar, Nim had already observed. Neither was conventionally pretty; both were big-boned and tall, with high foreheads and wide generous mouths, a shade too wide for beauty. But their breezy, outgoing personalities were strong and attractive. Nim had met Daphne a half hour ago, for the first time, and liked her immediately.

“There is some other news," Thurston informed Nim. “The guy whose life you saved won’t lose his arm. The surgeons say they can piece it together, and while it may not be strong enough to use in a coal plant anymore, at least he can put it around his wife and three small kids. Oh yes!-and the wife sends a message. She says she and those kids will be in church later today, thanking whatever saint they do business with for one N. Goldman, Esquire, and lighting candles for you. I pass that on in case you believe in any of that stuff."

"Oh, do stop a minute, Thurs," Ursula said. "You’re making me cry.,,

"If you want the truth," her husband acknowledged, "I’m a bit choked up myself."

Nim protested, as he had earlier, "I didn’t do much, if anything. It was your man Folger who stopped the conveyor and . . ."

"Listen," Thurston said. "You saw what happened before anyone else, you acted fast, and that couple of feet you pulled the guy back made all the difference. Besides, the world needs heroes. Why fight it?"

Events, since the dramatic, action-packed few minutes on the high walkway this morning, had moved swiftly. The injured workman, whose name Nim still didn’t know, had received efficient first aid; then had been loaded carefully on a stretcher delivered to the walkway on the run by two plant employees. In what seemed only moments after Thurston’s telephoned demand for an ambulance, a faint siren could be heard from the direction of downtown Dewer and a flashing red light, moving fast, became visible from the high vantage point, even while the vehicle was several miles away.

By the time the ambulance reached Cherokee plant, the stretcher had been taken down in a freight elevator and the injured man was whisked away to a hospital. Because of heavy bleeding and severe shock there had been early fears that he would die, fears that made the latest news welcome.

Only after the serious injury case had been dealt with, and the ambulance gone, had Nim’s cut band been examined. There proved to be a deep gash in his palm at the base of the thumb. Thurston had driven Nim to a nearby suburban hospital emergency room where several stitches were put in.

Nim’s face, hands and clothing had been black with coal dust and, after the stop at the hospital, he had been driven to Thurston’s home, where Nim shed his suit-the only one he had brought-and soaked in a hot bath. Afterward, and wearing Thurston’s robe, be had been introduced to Daphne, who competently put a fresh dressing and bandage on his hand. Daphne, Nim learned, was a qualified nurse and also a recent divorcee. The second condition was the reason for her current getaway-from-it-all visit to her sister.

Ursula wiped her eyes with a wisp of handkerchief, then said practically, "Well, now we know there’s a happy ending, we can all feel better." She crossed the room to Nim and impulsively bugged and kissed him. "There!-that’s instead of lighting candles."

"Hey!" Daphne said. "Can anybody do that?"

Nim grinned. "You bet!"

She promptly kissed him. Her lips were full and warm; he liked the feel of them, and a momentary fragrance which came and then was gone.

Daphne announced, "That’s what you get for being a bloody hero, like it or not."

“That part," Nim said, "I like."

"What we all need now," Ursula said, "is a big dose of the jollies." She addressed her husband. "Thurs, what are our plans tonight?"

He beamed. "I’m glad you asked. We’re dining and dancing. With my usual brilliant forethought I reserved a table for four at the San Marco Room of the Brown Palace."

"Sounds marvelous," Daphne said. "Can we get a baby-sitter for Keith?"

"Not to worry," Ursula assured her. "I’ll arrange it."

"And I’m going dancing," Nim declared, "whether my suit comes back or not."

* * *

The music-from a lively, talented combo-plus wine and an excellent dinner, mellowed them all. Earlier, Nim’s suit had been returned, seeming none the worse for its sojourn on the coal conveyor. Simultaneously with the cleaners’ delivery, a reporter and photographer from the Dewer Post arrived, wanting an interview, and photographs of Nim. A little reluctantly, he obliged.

Soon after, with Nim and Daphne wedged tightly into the back of Thurston’s Pinto, Daphne squeezed his arm. "I think you’re rather super," she whispered. “The way you do things, and handle yourself, and it’s nice you’re modest, too."

Not knowing what to say, be took her hand and continued holding it, already wondering what the later portion of the evening might bring.

Now, dinner was over. Nim and Daphne had danced with each other several times, with an increasing closeness to which Daphne made clear she had no objection.

Once, when the two of them were at the table together, and Thurston and Ursula were dancing, he inquired what had gone wrong with Daphne’s marriage.

With the frankness which seemed characteristic of both sisters she answered, "My husband was older than I am. He didn’t like sex much, and most of the time couldn’t get it up. There were other things wrong, but that was the main one."

"I assume that was not your problem."

She threw back her head and laughed. "How did you guess?"

"But you did have a child?"

"Yes. That was one of the times we managed. Almost the only one. Anyway, I’m glad I have Keith. He’s almost two and I love him dearly. By the way, Keith and I are sharing a room, but he’s a sound sleeper."

"All the same," Nim said, "I won’t come into his room."

"Fair enough. Just leave your door ajar. It’s down the hall from mine."

When, for a change, Nim danced with Ursula she confided, "I love having Daphne here; we’ve always been close. The one thing I envy her, though, is having little Keith."

Nim asked, "You and Thurs haven’t wanted children?"

"We both did. Still do. But we can’t have them." Ursula’s voice was clipped, as if she wished she hadn’t brought up the subject, and he left it at that.

But later, when the sisters excused themselves and left the table temporarily, Thurston said, "I understand Ursula told you we can’t have kids."

"Yes"

"Did she tell you why?"

Nim shook his head.

“The trouble’s with me, not Ursula. We both had medical tests, lots of ’em. It seems my pistol will cock and fire, but I feed it only blanks. And I’ll never have live bullets, so the doctors tell me."

"I’m sorry."

Thurston shrugged. "You can’t have everything, I guess, and we’ve got a lot of other things going, Ursula and f." He added, "We considered adopting, but neither of us is sure about that."

When the women returned they all drank more wine, then danced again.

While they were dancing, Daphne murmured in Nim’s ear, "Did I tell you I rather fancy you?"

His arms tightened around her in response. He hoped it would not be too long before they went back to the house.

* * *

They had returned an hour and a half ago. Thurston had driven the baby-sitter home, then all of them sat in the kitchen and talked while Ursula made tea, with Daphne helping. After that they said good night and went to bed. Now, Nim was almost asleep.

A sound aroused him- a creek, unmistakably the bedroom door opening fully, though he had left it ajar as Daphne told him. It was followed by another creak, then the click of a latch as the door closed. Nim lifted his head and strained to see in the darkness but couldn’t.