Читать книгу Border City Blues 3-Book Bundle - Michael Januska - Страница 31

FLAPPERS

Hazel Short was wearing a red waist, black shirt, and yellow stockings. She thought people were staring at her because her outfit was daring and modern. Actually, they were staring because she looked like she was wrapped in the German flag. Her sister Lillian was wearing the same kind of attire but in a different colour scheme: white, pink, and brown. With her ample proportions she resembled a scoop of Neapolitan ice cream.

Vera Maude was sitting across from her cousins in a booth at Lanspeary’s. They had caught Vera Maude as she was heading out the door for her afternoon break and asked if she wanted to go for a soda. Vera Maude was suspicious but went along anyway.

Daughters don’t always like to open up to their fathers, even in these modern times, so Robert Maguire had asked his sister to ask Vera Maude out for lunch so they might find out why she’d been acting so peculiar lately. Aunt Gertie said the job was better suited to her daughters. She said she didn’t understand young people today. In her words, they were “an altogether different animal.”

By the time they were finished their first Vernor’s, Hazel and Lillian had exhausted their favorite subjects — boys, clothes, movie stars, dance music — and were starting to make attempts at a heart-to-heart. This took Vera Maude by surprise; it wasn’t like Hazel and Lillian at all. But rather than fight it, she thought she’d take advantage of the opportunity to pick their brains about a few things.

The first thing she had to do was gain control of the conversation. She started with flattery.

“You’re liberated, women of the world....”

And finished with intrigue.

“…can I tell you something in confidence?”

And when she knew she had them she outlined the scenario. It had to do with a good-looking bootlegger, his curious adventures, and whether or not to get involved.

Hazel jumped in first. “You mean romantically?”

“Well, no. I mean —”

“You thinking of ratting him out, then?” said Lillian.

“No,” said Vera Maude, “of course not.”

The sisters were confused. Then a dim light went on in Hazel’s head.

“Aah — you want in!” she said.

“Whisky, right?” asked Lillian.

“I can’t blame you.”

“And if there’s a cutie in the mix, all the better.”

Whoa, thought Vera Maude, shallow waters. Maybe try a different tack. She started working up the courage to ask.

“Tell me, girls,” she said, “are you both happy?”

The sisters looked at each other. This seemed to them like a stupid question.

“Well … of course,” Lillian chimed. “Sure.”

Vera Maude continued to struggle to find the words.

“So much has changed, you know, since we were kids. It’s funny, I mean, sometimes I feel overwhelmed at all the possibilities and other times I ask myself is this it? Is this all there is? War is over. Women get the vote. We all move out of the house, go to business college, and get jobs. I know it’s not perfect but compared to what our mothers had, well, it’s pretty good, isn’t it?”

What she wanted was someone to tell her that yes, she should be happy; that she was lucky to be a young person in this day and age, and that everything was going to be all right.

“Yeah, sure, Maudie,” said Hazel.

She was just thinking out loud, throwing these words out, feeling them roll off her tongue, seeing what kind of reaction they got. She decided to go for broke.

“Then how come I feel so … empty?”

Now there was a question. Hazel had the answer.

“Maudie, honey, you need a man.”

Her sister agreed. “A man’ll cure what ails you,” said Lillian.

“Yeah, that’s all it is,” said Hazel, looking as if she had just solved the mystery of Vera Maude Maguire.

No one could understand why Vera Maude didn’t have a steady boyfriend. Aunt Gertie said she was too wild and unrefined. Hazel said Vera Maude was too smart for her own good. Her sister Lillian agreed. “Boys,” she said, “don’t go for those intellectual types. I should know.”

Vera Maude still thought of herself as that gangly, awkward schoolgirl holed up in her bedroom with her books and daydreams, wondering when adulthood, and freedom, would come. And as for being smart, she thought the smart folks were the ones travelling the world, writing books, starting revolutions, and challenging our perceptions through art. They weren’t working as assistant librarians in factory towns.

“Look at us,” said Hazel.

“We’ve each got a steady boyfriend,” said Lillian. “We go dancing and to the track, to clubs in Detroit, speakeasies....”

“All the stuff our moms wanted to do,” said Hazel, nodding to her sister.

“But couldn’t,” said Lillian.

“Like you said.”

Vera Maude wanted to scream. She fended off the urge with an image of her Aunt Gertie dancing on a table at a speakeasy.

“See? We got plenty to be happy about,” said Hazel.

I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day, thought Vera Maude. Time to end the discussion.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Now, about this bootlegger,” said Hazel.

“Does he have a friend?” asked Lillian.

“Lillian,” gasped Hazel, “what about Andy?”

“A girl should keep her options open.”

When the sisters stopped giggling Hazel asked Vera Maude if her bootlegger had reasonable terms.

“Maybe we could come to some sort of an arrangement.”

“Well, I’m not sure — I mean I’ve never actually —”

Vera Maude glanced out the window at the people walking up and down the street. “Sure, I’ll talk to him,” she said.

“Great. Let’s plan something for Friday night then. It’ll do you a world of good. And if your bootlegger doesn’t want to come along, then I’ll set you up with someone.”

“Sure,” said Vera Maude. “It sounds like a plan.”

“See, I knew we could sort this out,” said Lillian.

“Say, you won’t…”

“Don’t worry, Maudie. You’re secret’s safe with us.”

“Girl stuff, Maudie, just girl stuff,” said Lillian.

“Well, I have to get back to the library.”

Vera Maude slipped out of the booth.

“We’ll talk soon,” said Hazel.

“Yeah,” said Lillian, “your boyfriend will probably want a deposit.”

“Uh, right.”

“See ya.”

“Bye.”

Vera Maude forced a smile and waved as she walked past the drugstore window. She prayed the earth would open up sometime real soon and swallow the Dreaded Sisters Short. A falling piano would be too good for them.

The streets were quieter now. Anyone who wasn’t working was probably looking for a cool spot to while away the rest of the afternoon.

She waited for a break in the traffic along Park Street. Engine exhaust sputtered out of automobile tail pipes and hung heavy in the air, mingling with the heat and humidity. She looked up and noticed that the sky was buried under a thick, colourless haze.

Rain, rain come today.

A little girl was perched at the top corner of the steps into the library, reading. She reminded Vera Maude of herself way back when the biggest decisions she had to make were which book to sign out and whether to have her ice cream straight up or in a float.