Indianapolis Times, Indianapolis, Marion County, 16 March 1942 — Page 18

BUT--1 AM --AT THE THOUGHT THAT YOU MIGHT TALK

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Serial Story—

Kings Row

By Henry Bellaman

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

PARRIS shoved as chair toward |.

the kitchen table and sat down. “What's the matter, Randy?”

“You said ‘just now that you con- || a sidered Drake all right—just as he }-

always was. What about you?” Parris looked puzzled.

Randy finished the preparations Fe

for coffee. “Yes, Parris, you. I've known ever since you got back here to Kings Row that you're not happy. I don’t mean to meddle with your business in any way, hut—I just . wondered if there is anything I can do for you.”

“You're, a sweet kid to think|

about me, hut it’s just a matter of readjustment. I—I didn’t like Kings Row when I came back.” “I know that. I could see it.” “Well--Drake kept me here.” “I guessed that, too.” ‘ “He was not only my good friend in trouble, but he was a sort of ‘professional job.” “And now you want to go away?” “You were never more mistaken in your life. I've got my job— it’s work I like and want to do.” “I'm glad, Parris, I'd hate to see you go away.” “I never expect to. It's a little hard to explain, but in some way that lies considerably beyond the ordinary meaning of the word, this is home. I was pretty suddenly and violently uprooted, and when I came back there didn't seem to be

"= anything here that I thought was

here. My friendship with Drake ‘was about all that was left of parent soil—do you understand what I niean?” ; “I think so.” “Drake, and old Prof. Berdorff. Well—it took me a while to put down roots again. The hospital is new ground, of course.” . Randy nodded. She was afraid to speak, “Randy, do you know what mysticism is?” “No—yes 1” y “Well, which? No? Yes?” “I kind of know, I guess. Belef in something that is Behind

‘something else that isn’t there.”

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Parris laughed, and Randy set ‘cups on the table. For the first “time Parris saw In her face the

~ * ‘impish look she used to have as a

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little girl, “Well, ghat’ll do as a starting point! I hate mysticism, as I hate everything that isn’t clear. And that’s ridiculous, too, because just about all of ‘my work is concerned with chasing spooks that aren't ‘there. I have to try to keep myself and: my ideas realistic, but . hallucinations—I'm getting off the ‘track. I started out to say some‘thing else. I'm not exactly in love “with Kings Row, nor with the town, “or the way it looks, nor any places ‘in the town, nor the people that ‘live here. But I'm attracted to all of the stages of being I went through right here. Maybe I like

the place where the town is—be-|

cause I honestly think the town + itself is pretty awful—and the place . happens to be the scene of all my memories. I guess I'm not being : very explicit.” - ; “I understand some of wha " you mean, Go om” ehing - : ; ” ” # ! RANDY POURED the coffee and i sat down on the opposite side of : the table. ’ ~~ “I thought and felt certain things

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“We must have run into a flock of robins headed north!”

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but—oh, and Kings Row is downright backwoods, really—but we've got something that can grow into something else. The Europeans don't seem to me to have that. They are already what they are—a finished product.” Parris laughed. “I'm talking too much.” “It's your own medicine, Doctor.” “What?” “You know—talking it out. You've explained it to me—" “Maybe, How did this get started anyway?” : “You needed to talk to someone, that’s all.” : “Well, I know I'm going home— that's the first time I've said ‘home’ since T landed here!” 4 Maybe you ought to get married, He looked at her thoughtfully. “No, Randy, I don’t think so. There doesn’t seem to be any room’ anywhere for that kind of—an arrangement.” i s ¥ =» : There was a special-delivery letter lying under the lamp ‘on his table when he reached his apartment. He opened it and read: Dear Dr. Mitchell: , I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you since your return® from abroad, and, I regret that my first communication with you is somewhat professional rather than social. : / I shall be grateful if you will call as soon as convenient, I should like, also, to have ybu keep this in strict confidence. Very truly, Harriet Gordon. P. 8. 1t would be more convenient if you could call some evening after supper, instead of during the day. H. G. Parris frowned. Mrs. Henry Gore don! Strange. ... He shrugged, tore the letter into small pieces, and dropped the shreds on the dying coals in the fireplace. He turned and looked around the The door stood 9pen Beyond he could see a dim light burning in the bedroom. - He had called this “home.” Without thinking.

trative building of the hospital. Randy’s suggestion that he marry found no response in him, ner any

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a| What might happen she imagined

‘|was a cruel look. Every line of Mrs. jGordon's expression ‘was fanatic. {Parris felt a little creepy. :

He had little enough in the recollections of his boyhood life in Kings Row to be happy about. The nature of his bereavements and his griefs had been too: dark, and too severe for a boy. And now that he

their happening there must be at times some unconscious “associations; some spectral presences. . . . A week passed before Parris was free to call on Mrs. Gordon. She answered his ring herself and greeted him in a restrained halfvoice which gave him an uncomfortable feeling. “It's been a long time since I've seen you,” she said. “Of course I've heard—Louise was always speaking of Parris Mitchell.” “How is Louise? I haven't seen her since I came back.” 5 “No. I fancy not. Pirst tell me about yourself. Could I offer you a cup of hot chocolate? They tell me it’s very cold out.” Mrs. Gordon sat, very stiff and straight, in an incongruoué Roman chair. Her hair, a surprisingly even dark chestnut was fastened high with a comb. The comb reminded him of his grandmother. » Mrs. Gordon looked sharply at him. “I said, that I have been gping through' a very trying experience since my husband passed away.” “Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.” “Dr. Mitchell, ’m sure you were surprised to hear from me. Somehow I felt that I could trust your discretion since you. used to be a friend of Louise.” Mrs. Gordon moved forward in her chair. “I have called you to speak about Louise.” “Is Louise il1?” ' “I don’t know.” Mrs. Gordon twisted the ends of her black-lace scarf. “Dr. Mitchell, I've been afraid Louise’s mind has been affected. You may remember that some time ago Louise had a most unfortunate -attachment for one of the most undesirable boys in this town.” “You. are speaking of Drake MeHugh.” “Yes—a very sad case. I.suppose I was lax in my care of Louise, but before I could guess

she was in love with him.” . “Yes, Mrs. Gordon. You might just. tell me what happened later.”

father!” “Really? Why?” or “lI could never guess. Dr. Gor-

face was suddenly transformed. A look that was curiously still and white gave her an appearance of— Parris almost said “exaltation.” It might have been nearly such an 8

same time so hard, and so—yes, it

was living again in the scene of}

"' “Dr. Mitchell, Louise hated her

don was a saint.” The woman's.

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