Across the River and Into the Trees Read online

�Yes,� the Colonel said. �I saw it in Kansas City when I used to come in from Ft. Riley to play polo at the Country Club.�

  �Was it as bad as here?�

  �No, it was quite pleasant. I liked it and that part of Kansas City is very beautiful.�

  �Is it really? I wish that we could go there. Do they have the camps there too? The ones that we are going to stay at?�

  �Surely. But we�ll stay at the Muehlebach hotel which has the biggest beds in the world and we�ll pretend that we are oil millionaires.�

  �Where will we leave the Cadillac?�

  �Is it a Cadillac now?�

  �Yes. Unless you want to take the big Buick Road-master, with the Dynaflow drive. I�ve driven it all over Europe. It was in that last Vogue you sent me.�

  �We�d probably better just use one at a time,� the Colonel said. �Whichever one we decide to use we will park in the garage alongside the Muehlebach.�

  �Is the Muehlebach very splendid?�

  �Wonderful. You�ll love it. When we leave town we�ll drive north to St. Joe and have a drink in the bar at the Roubidoux, maybe two drinks, and then we will cross the river and go west. You can drive, and we can spell each other.�

  �What is that?�

  �Take turns driving.�

  �I�m driving now.�

  �Let�s skip the dull part and get to Chimney Rock and go on to Scott�s Bluff and Torrington and after that you will begin to see it.�

  �I have the road maps and the guides and that man who says where to eat, and the A.A.A. guide to the camps and the hotels.�

  �Do you work on this much?�

  �I work at it in the evenings, with the things you sent me. What kind of a license will we have?�

  �Missouri. We�ll buy the car in Kansas City. We fly to Kansas City, don�t you remember? Or we can go on a really good train.�

  �I thought we flew to Albuquerque.�

  �That was another time.�

  �Will we stop early in the afternoons at the best Motel in the A.A.A. book and I make you any drinks you want while you read the paper and Life and Time and Newsweek, and I will read the new fresh Vogue and Harper�s Bazaar?�

  �Yes. But we come back here too.�

  �Of course. With our car. On an Italian liner; whichever one is best then. We drive straight here from Geneva.�

  �You don�t want to stop anywhere for the night?�

  �Why? We want to get home to our own house.�

  �Where will our house be?�

  �We can decide that any time. There are always plenty of houses in this town. Would you like to live in the country too?�

  �Yes,� the Colonel said. �Why not?�

  �Then we could see the trees when we woke up. What sort of trees will we see on this journey?�

  �Pine mostly, and cotton-wood along the creeks, and aspen. Wait till you see the aspen turn yellow in the fall.�

  �I�m waiting. Where will we stay in Wyoming?�

  �We�ll go to Sheridan first and then decide.�

  �Is Sheridan nice?�

  �It�s wonderful. In the car we�ll drive to where they had the Wagon-Box Fight and I�ll tell you about it. We will drive up, on the way to Billings, to where they killed that fool George Armstrong Custer, and you can see the markers where everybody died and I�ll explain the fight to you.�

  �That will be wonderful. Which is Sheridan more like, Mantova or Verona or Vicenza?�

  �It isn�t like any of those. It is right up against the mountains, almost like Schio.�

  �Is it like Cortina then?�

  �Nothing like. Cortina is in a high valley in the mountains. Sheridan lays right up against them. They aren�t any foot-hills to the Big Horns. They rise high out of the plateau. You can see Cloud�s Peak.�

  �Will our cars climb them properly?�

  �You�re damn right they will. But I would much rather not have any hydramatic drive.�

  �I can do without it,� the girl said. Then she held her self straight and hard not to cry. �As I can do without everything else.�

  �What are you drinking?� the Colonel said. �We haven�t even ordered yet.�

  �I don�t think I will drink anything.�

  �Two very dry Martinis,� the Colonel said to the bartender, �and a glass of cold water.�

  He reached into his pocket and unscrewed the top of the medicine bottle, and shook two of the big tablets into his left hand. With them in his hand, he screwed the top back on the bottle. It was no feat for a man with a bad right hand.

  �I said I didn�t want to drink anything.�

  �I know daughter. But I thought you might need one. We can leave it on the bar. Or I can drink it myself. Please,� he said. �I did not mean to be brusque.�

  �We haven�t asked for the little negro that will look after me.�

  �No. Because I did not want to ask for him until Cipriani came in and I could pay for him.�

  �Is everything that rigid?�

  �With me, I guess,� the Colonel said. �I�m sorry daughter.�

  �Say daughter three times straight.�

  �Hija, figlia, Daughter.�

  �I don�t know,� she said. �I think we should just leave here. I love to have people see us, but I don�t want to see anybody.�

  �The box with the negro in it is on top of the cash register.�

  �I know. I�ve seen it for sometime.�

  The bar-tender came, with the two drinks, frost cold from the chilled coldness of the glasses, and he brought the glass of water.

  �Give me that small packet that came in my name and is on top of the cash register,� the Colonel said to him. �Tell Cipriani I will send him a check for it.�

  He had made another decision.

  �Do you want your drink, daughter?�

  �Yes. If you don�t mind me changing my mind too.�

  They drank, after touching the glasses very lightly, so lightly that the contact was almost imperceptible.

  �You were right,� she said feeling its warmth and its momentary destruction of sorrow.

  �You were right too,� he said and palmed the two tablets.

  He thought taking them with the water now was in bad taste. So, when the girl turned her head a moment to watch a morning drinker go out the door, he swallowed them with the Martini.

  �Should we go, Daughter?�

  �Yes. By all means.�

  �Bar-tender,� the Colonel said. �How much are these drinks? And do not forget to tell Cipriani I am sending him a check for this nonsense.�

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  THEY ate lunch at the Gritti, and the girl had unwrapped the small ebony negro�s head and torso, and pinned it high on her left shoulder. It was about three inches long, and was quite lovely to look at if you liked that sort of thing. And if you don�t you are stupid, the Colonel thought.

  But do not even think rough, he told himself. You have to be good now in every way until you say goodbye. What a word, he thought, good-bye.

  It sounds like a Valentine slogan.

  Good-bye and bonne chance and hasta la vista. We always just said merde and let it go at that. Farewell, he thought, that is a nice word. It sings well, he thought. Farewell, a long farewell and take it with you where you go. With handles, he thought.

  �Daughter,� he said. �How long has it been since I told you that I loved you?�

  �Not since we sat at the table.�

  �I tell you now.�

  She had combed her hair with patience when they came into the hotel and she had gone into the room for women. She disliked such rooms.

  She had used lipstick to make the sort of mouth she knew he most desired, and she had said to herself, making the mouth correctly, �Don�t think at all. Don�t think. Above all don�t be sad because he is going now.�

  �You look beautiful.�

  �Thank you. I would like to be beautiful for you if I could and if I could be beautiful.�

  �Italian is a lovely language.�r />
  �Yes. Mister Dante thought so.�

  �Gran Maestro,� the Colonel said. �What is there to eat in this Wirtschaft?�

  The Gran Maestro had been observing, without observing, with affection and without envy.

  �Do you want meat, or fish?�

  �It�s Saturday,� the Colonel said. �Fish is not compulsory. So I�ll take it.�

  �It is sole,� the Gran Maestro said. �What do you want, my Lady?�

  �Whatever you decide. You know more about food than I do, and I like it all.�

  �Make a decision, Daughter.�

  �No. I would rather leave it to some one who knows more than me. I have a boarding school appetite.�

  �It will come as a surprise,� the Gran Maestro said with his long and loving face with the grey eyebrows over the softly hooded eyes, and the ever happy face of the old soldier who is still alive and appreciates it.

  �Is there any news from the Order?� the Colonel asked.

  �Only that our leader, Himself, is in trouble. They have confiscated everything he owns. Or at any rate they have intervened.�

  �I hope it is not serious.�

  �We will have confidence in our leader. He has ridden out worse tempests than this.�

  �To our leader,� the Colonel said.

  He raised his glass, which had been filled with the decanted new and true Valpolicella. �Drink to him, daughter.�

  �I can�t drink to that swine,� the girl said. �Besides I do not belong to the Order.�

  �You are a member now,� the Gran Maestro said. �Por merito di guerra.�

  �I�ll drink to him then,� she said. �Am I really a member of the Order?�

  �Yes,� the Gran Maestro said. �You have not received your parchment yet but I appoint you Super Honorary Secretary. My Colonel will reveal to you the secrets of the order. Reveal, please, my Colonel.�

  �I reveal,� the Colonel said. �There are no pitted folk about?�

  �No. He is out with his Lady. Miss Baedeker.�

  �OK then,� the Colonel said. �I will reveal. There is only the major secret that you must know. Correct me, Gran Maestro, if I fall into error.�

  �Proceed to reveal,� the Gran Maestro said.

  �I proceed to reveal,� the Colonel said. �Listen carefully daughter. This is the Supreme Secret. Listen. �Love is love and fun is fun. But it is always so quiet when the gold fish die.��

  �It has been revealed,� the Gran Maestro said.

  �I am very proud and happy to be a member of the Order,� the girl said. �But it is, in a way, a rather rough order.�

  �It is indeed,� the Colonel said. �And now, Gran Maestro, what do we actually eat; without mysteries?�

  �Some crab enchillada, in the style of this town, but cold, first. Served in the shell. Then sole for you, and for my lady a mixed grill. What vegetables?�

  �Whatever you have,� the Colonel said.

  The Gran Maestro was gone and the Colonel looked at the girl and then at the Grand Canal outside the window, and he saw the magic spots and changes of light that were even here, in the end of the bar, which had now by skillful handling been made into a dining room, and he said, �Did I tell you, daughter, that I love you?�

  �You haven�t told me for quite a long time. But I love you.�

  �What happens to people that love each other?�

  �I suppose they have whatever they have, and they are more fortunate than others. Then one of them gets the emptiness forever.�

  �I won�t be rough,� the Colonel said. �I could have made a rough response. But please don�t have any emptiness.�

  �I�ll try,� the girl said. �I�ve been trying ever since I woke up. I�ve tried ever since we knew each other.�

  �Keep on trying, daughter,� the Colonel said.

  Then to the Gran Maestro, who had reappeared, having given his orders, the Colonel said, �A bottle of that vino secco, from Vesuvius, for the small soles. We have the Valpolicella for the other things.�

  �Can�t I drink the Vesuvius wine with my mixed grill?� the girl asked.

  �Renata, daughter,� the Colonel said. �Of course. You can do anything.�

  �I like to drink the same wines as you if I drink wine.�

  �Good white wine is good with a mixed grill, at your age,� the Colonel told her.

  �I wish there was not such a difference in ages.�

  �I like it very much,� the Colonel said. �Except,� he added. Then he did not continue and said, �Let�s be fra�che et rose comme au jour de bataille.�

  �Who said that?�

  �I haven�t the slightest idea. I picked it up when I took a course at the Coll�ge des Mar�chaux, A rather pretentious title. But I graduated. What I know best I learned from the krauts, studying them and opposing them. They are the best soldiers. But they always over-reach.�

  �Let�s be like you said, and please tell me that you love me.�

  �I love you,� he said. �That�s what you can base on. I tell you truly.�

  �It is Saturday,� she said. �And when is next Saturday?�

  �Next Saturday is a movable feast, daughter. Find me a man who can tell me about next Saturday.�

  �You could tell me if you would.�

  �I�ll ask the Gran Maestro, maybe he knows. Gran Maestro when will next Saturday come?�

  �A Paques ou � la Trinit�,� the Gran Maestro said.

  �Why don�t we have any smells from the kitchen to cheer us up?�

  �Because the wind is from the wrong direction.�

  Yes, the Colonel thought. The wind is from the wrong direction and how lucky I would have been to have had this girl instead of the woman that I pay alimony to, who could not even make a child. She hired out for that. But who should criticise whose tubes? I only criticize Goodrich or Firestone or General.

  Keep it clean, he said to himself. And love your girl.

  She was there beside him, wishing to be loved, if he had any love to give.

  It came back, as it always had, when he saw her, and he said, �How are you with the crow wing hair and the breakheart face?�

  �I�m fine.�

  �Gran Maestro,� the Colonel said. �Produce a few smells or something from your off-stage kitchen, even if the wind is against us.�

  CHAPTER XXXIX

  THE hall porter had telephoned, under the direction of the concierge, and it was the same motor boat that they had ridden in before.

  T5 Jackson was in the boat with the luggage, and the portrait, which had been well and sturdily wrapped. It was still blowing hard.

  The Colonel had paid his bill and made the proper tips. The people of the hotel had put the luggage and the picture in the boat, and seen that Jackson was seated properly. Then they had retired.

  �Well, daughter,� the Colonel said.

  �Can�t I ride with you to the garage?�

  �It would be just as bad at the garage.�

  �Please let me ride to the garage.�

  �All right,� the Colonel said. �It�s your show, really. Get in.�

  They did not talk at all, and the wind was a stern wind so that, with what speed the old calamity of a motor made, there seemed almost to be no wind at all.

  At the landing place, where Jackson was handing the luggage to a porter, and looking after the portrait himself, the Colonel said, �Do you want to say good-bye here?�

  �Do I have to?�

  �No.�

  �May I come up to the bar in the garage while they are getting the car down?�

  �That will be worse.�

  �I do not care.�

  �Get that stuff up to the garage, and have somebody look after it until you get the car down,� the Colonel said to Jackson. �Check on my guns and pack this stuff in a way to give the maximum space in the rear seat.�

  �Yes, sir,� Jackson said.

  �Am I going then?� the girl asked.

  �No,� the Colonel told her.

  �Why can�t I go?�

  �
You know very well. You weren�t invited.�

  �Please don�t be bad.�

  �Christ, Daughter, if you knew how hard I am trying not to be. It�s easy if you�re bad. Let�s pay this good man off, and go over and sit on the bench there under the tree.�

  He paid the owner of the motor boat, and told him that he had not forgotten about the jeep engine. He also told him not to count on it, but that there was a good chance that he could get it.

  �It will be a used engine. But it will be better than that coffee pot you have in there now.�

  They went up the worn stone steps and walked across the gravel and sat on a bench under the trees.

  The trees were black and moved in the wind, and there were no leaves on them. The leaves had fallen early, that year, and been swept up long ago.

  A man came over to offer postcards for sale and the Colonel told him, �Run along, son. We don�t need you now.�

  The girl was crying, finally, although she had made the decision never to cry.

  �Look, Daughter,� the Colonel said. �There isn�t anything to say. They didn�t install shock-absorbers in this vehicle we ride in now.�

  �I�ve stopped,� she said. �I�m not an hysterical.�

  �I wouldn�t say you were. I�d say you were the loveliest and most beautiful girl that ever lived. Any time. Any place. Anywhere.�

  �If it were true, what difference would it make?�

  �You have me there,� the Colonel said. �But it is true.�

  �So now what?�

  �So now we stand up and kiss each other and say good-bye.�

  �What�s that?�

  �I don�t know,� the Colonel said. �I guess that is one of the things everybody has to figure out for themselves.�

  �I�ll try to figure it.�

  �Just take it as easy as you can, Daughter.�

  �Yes,� the girl said. �In the vehicle without the shock-absorbers.�

  �You were tumbril bait from the start.�

  �Can�t you do anything kindly?�

  �I guess not. But I�ve tried.�

  �Please keep on trying. That�s all the hope we have.�

  �I�ll keep on trying.�

  So they held each other close and kissed each other hard and true, and the Colonel took the girl across the stretch of gravel and down the stone steps.

  �You ought to take a good one. Not that old displaced engine boat.�

  �I�d rather take the displaced engine boat if you don�t mind.�

  �Mind?� the Colonel said. �Not me. I only give orders and obey orders. I don�t mind. Good-bye, my dear, lovely, beautiful.�

  �Good-bye,� she said.

  CHAPTER XL

  HE was in the sunken oak hogshead that they used in the Veneto for blinds. A blind is any artifice you use to hide the shooter from that which he is attempting to shoot, which, in this case, were ducks.

  It had been a good trip out with the boys, once they had met in the garage, and a good evening with excellent food cooked on the old open-hearth kitchen. Three shooters rode in the rear seat, on the way to the shooting place. Those who did not lie had permitted themselves a certain amount of exaggeration and the liars had never been in fuller flower.

  A liar, in full flower, the Colonel had thought, is as beautiful as cherry trees, or apple trees when they are in blossom. Who should ever discourage a liar, he thought, unless he is giving you co-ordinates?

  The Colonel had collected liars all his life, as some men gather postage-stamps. He did not classify them, except at the moment, nor treasure them truly. He just enjoyed, completely, hearing them lie at the moment, unless, of course, something concerned with duty was involved. Last night there had been a fair amount of good lying after the grappa had been passed around, and the Colonel had enjoyed it.