Kankakee Valley Post, Volume 11, Number 8, DeMotte, Jasper County, 9 January 1941 — TRAILER GIRL [ARTICLE]

TRAILER GIRL

© Ledger

By VERA BROWN

WNU Service

CHAPTER XXXl—Continued —l9 Lynn quieted, turned to Chuck and answered: “I’ve lost the man I loved. I know what that means, and I didn’t have a little child to consider. There is such a thing as decency, Chuck. You may not know it, but there is.” All the suffering and hurt of the last year shone in Lynn’s white face. Chuck, looking, suddenly felt sorry for her. ‘‘l didn’t know you care . v . that much.” Y Her smile pitiful. Chuck watched her for a Little, curiously. Chuck spoke at last: “What do you want me to do?”JThere was defeat in his voice. Lynn sat up, her hands clasped together: “Give her a chance. I don’t know whether she still loves you, Chuck. It has been a year. Find her and Buddy. Go to her, alone. Go honestly. Ask her to come back. Be honest. Don’t steal Buddy from h^r!” Chuck was silent as he watched her. Then he got up wearily. “I promise.” His voice was dead. “Don’t you loye her any more, Chuck?” Lynn’s voice was full of fear. “Yes.” His face colored. “I do. I suppose that’s why I’m so bitter. She almost killed me, Lynn!” He turned away so that-Lynn could not see his face. Chuck held out his hand. “What name is she using Lynn?” ? “You’ll play fair?” “I swear it!”

t• j • *»» *.-iou»si. ■please' listen to me! Would you want Helen to take you back only because of Buddy?” The expression on his face was answer enough. “She’ll come, if she knows you want her to!” She tried make Chuck understand. He was making a great effort. Lynn knew how bitter w r as his Austin pride. He must care a great deal. When she lefHhim she said: “Good luck, and happiness!” He gave her hand a squeeze, leaned over and kissed her cheek. He could not speak for the lump in his throat. Four days before Christmas she lay in her bed trying to summon courage enough to get up when her bell rang. She jumped out of bed, threw on a robe and hurried to the door. A telegraph boy handed in a message. With trembling fingers she it. It was short, quite unexplanatory. “Merry Christmas, see you soon.” It was signed, “Chuck, Helen, Bud- S dy.” It was Mme. Reanoud who solved Lynn’s Christmas problem for her. “Why don’t you trim your tree and have some of the kids from the old apartment building next to you in for a party Christmas day?” she asked. “They could use a party, from the way they look. Better give them meat and potatoes instead of ice cream though. They seem to need it.” , Lynn was enthusiastic over the ,idea. “I’ll do it! I’ll invite them tonight.” “You better start shopping, young woman! That’s more important!” It turned out that Terry was a harbor of refuge when Lynn came to the shopping problem. He drove her to the stores, here and there. When Terry and Lynn came back into the living room, he took her hand: “Can I give you your ring, Lynn? For Christmas?” Her eyes were black as she spoke: “I wish I could say yes, Terry, but I can’t.” “It’s the last time I’m going to ask. I have it here in my pocket.” He took out a gorgeous yellow diamond which had been in his family for years. “Empress Josephine once wore that, young woman, and it isn’t good enough for you.” “You’re sweet, Terry.” Lynn looked at the gorgeous stone laying in his hand. She shook her head and smiled up at him. Lynn determined not to think of the tree which Wild had trimmed for her a year ago. She turned restlessly. Somebody was coming down the hall. There was a knock on her door. She got up to open it.

“Merry Christmas!” cried two voices. It was Chuck and Helen. They came in with a rush, and Lynn was in their arms. Helen was crying and Chuck was swallowing hard. It was a long time before anybody was coherent enough to explain all that had happened. “Where’s Buddy?” “Home, asleep ‘in his nursery!” Helen said. And Chuck, hearing her, kissed her. She had said “home” of Austin' Manor. Said it naturally and happily. Later, just before they were to leave, Helen tried to say to Lynn some things that were in her heart. “If I can ever pay my debt to you, Lynn!” Chuck tried [to make a formal speech, and Lynn was between laughter and tears. “We can’t stay, darling. There’s a supper party tonight, and Buddy will have us up at dawn.” Helen’s face suddenly sobered: “But we had to see you for a few minutes. If you could see Buddy with his father} Lynn!” She squeezed Chuck’s arm. Then Helen tried to tell Lynn what had happened down Soujh. “I was almost at the end of my rope, Lynn,” she Said. “Chuck got to us one night aftelr Buddy had gone to bed. He just walked into that trailer, and I thoiight I would die in that moment,” ‘ 1 “I didn’t think she was glad to see me at first!' ’ Chuck interposed. “I was so stunned, I couldn’t move!” , i | ne | • ■ t J ed m ; ■ iid ’t "v '; ' ; . i e i .-f ■ ' ' 1- . * n e u ■; * 'V . . r e iit ■' ■■■ | ' | . ' ■!;/. e n chuck ana me. i opugnt it in Mexico.' I hope you like it.” Lynn opened the box immediately. It was a lovely silver bracelet set with turquoise, the fine carving w r as worn almost smooth by the many beautiful women through the ages who had owned the handsome orna,ment. “It’s . . . beautiful!” Lynn put it on her slim wrist. When Helen kissed Lynn good-by she wTiispered: “I’ve got a plan, you’ll hear about it soon. Before we go away!”

CHAPTER XXXIII I I ■ ' L- ° ' Lynn woke the next morning with that wonderful feeling that something exciting and unusual w r as going to happen. When she opened her eyes she could see through the bedroom door the glistening Christmas tree rising high to the ceiling. All morning Lynn worked hard. She peeled quantities of potatoes for her guests, fixed the squash for baking. It was fun. By, noon she was improvising a table, i Marty had promised to drop in for the party, and he came in puffing, before the children began to arrive. His arms were piled high with bundles, he had a Christmas stocking for every guest, filled with oranges, candy and toys. And he had a gift for Lynn. It was a pretty compact. “Merry Christmas, Kid!” Marty said, dropping the bundles onto the couch. They just had tirrfe to put the stockings under the tree when the first guest arrived. Myrtle Price, an artist w’ho lived above Lynn came in to help, and soon the studio was turned into a gay turmoil of wild youngsters having the time of their lives. Marty was a genius with the children. He got them over their first shyness. He directed their games while Lynn and Myrtle worked in the kitchen to finish the dinner. They were having a grand time. Myrtle borrowed chairs from everybody up and down the hall. Two boys across the way stopped in to see the fun, stayed on to w’atch that the youngsters got their dinner. Gradually the apartment and its tumult became the center of life of the big, ramshackle studio building. Everybody left in the place had to poke his head into the door to see the fun. The children ate and ate until Lynn was afraid they’d be ill. The uninvited guests helped clear the tables, push the tables back against the walls and then everybody sat down on the floor. Marty had disappeared. Shortly there was a wild shout. He came out of the

bedroom a rotund Santa Claus with a long, white beard. The children yelled and screamed in their delight. Then Marty began giving out the little gifts. “I haven’t had so much fun in years,” he told Lynn. The bracelets and the dollar watches Terry had bought sent the crowd into mild hysteria. Of course, three of the watches were promptly broken, for the boys wound them too tightly. But it was all breathless and spontaneous. Toward evening some of the mothers came for their children and Lynn gave them sandwiches of the leftover turkey. “It’s the loveliest Christmas I’ve ever had,” Lynn said as she arid Marty dropped down for a moment on the couch to rest. Of course, nobody wanted to go home. It Was dark now, and the lighted tree was lovelier in the dim studio. Art started some carols and soon the child voices were raised in song, a little off tune perhaps, but they loved it. Art went across the hall and got his accordion and shortly the whole building was shaking as the children danced to his tunes and the older people sat back enjoying the fun.. Yes, it was a good day. Nobody heard a knock on the door. Finally Marty did, and opened it. It was a messenger boy. A cable. “From Rene, bless his heart. He wouldn’t forget!” Lynn cried as she took it. The boy grinned as he watched the dancing children. Lynn pressed some candy - into his hand and Marty gave him a dollar. Lynn tore open the cable casually. It was wonderful that a word of greeting could come to her so far. Marty turned to her, stopped short. Lynn’s smile died. j ’ “Marty!” She was trembling. He took the cable from her hand' Only a few words.

“Bouchier seriously ill} American Hospital; come.” It was signed by Dr. Antonio Marelli, ih Home: Lynn held on to ijdfarty’s arm. “We mustn’t spoil theijr party. Keep them going.” She went into the bedroom and closed the <jloor. She sat down bn the narrow bed, piled high with children’s coats hnd hats, and reread the cable. , Renp must be desperately ill, or the doctor would not have cabled. Marty found her there a few minutes later. “I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t go . . . and anything happened.” . . . She looked up distractedly. “He can’t die, Marty.” “No.” Marty and his Santa Claus beard awry, wiped his forehead with a trembling hand. “He can’t die. He’s too important to the world, Lynn. He’s a great painter! It would be terrible . . Poor Rene. Alone, ill, maybe dying. She forced a smile to her lips, but her eyes were bright with tears. Shortly, the party began to break up. It; was a long process. Hats and coats had to be rescued, rubbers and galoshes straightened out. Marty, watching Lynn’s face, was glad she had this distraction. They finally departed, a disheveled, happy, noisy crowd. Then quiet settled over the apartment like a pall. Marty went out to buy a newspaper and Lynn was alone. Mechanically she tried to bring a little order out of the chaos in the apartment. Marty was not gone long, but when he camel back he had everything planned. “There’s a sailing tomorrow, but no use to take it. It’s a slow boat. Better wait for the Normandie. She sails Thursday.” “That’s two days!” “It can’t be helped.” “I’ll get you a tourist class ticket. You can go straight from Havre to Rome.” “It will be over a week, Marty.” “Yes.”] . > “I hope I’m in time:” “You will be. He’ll probably be all right by the time you get there.” “If I only knew how serious it is!” “Shall I telephone th£ hospital?” “Will it cost a lot?” “Not too much, Lynn. I’ll try.” _ Later they both went out to the corner drug store, and in an hour Marty had the call through. He got an Italian clerk who worked in the store to speak with the hospital in Rome. It was a short conversation. “He’s got pneumonia,” the boy informed the two who waited. He told the hospital that Lynn was sailing on she Normandie. “How is he?” Lynn demanded. “They say he’s pretty sick.” That was all. Marty and Lynn went back to her apartment, and Lynn got out her suit cases. “I’ll go to the bank tomorrow morning, Marty as soon as it opens and get the money.” “Don’t worry about that. I’ll get a ticket, there won’t be any trouble this time of year. Reservations are light. I’ll have the boss see about your passport. You’ll have to get a picture. Do that first thing. We’ll have to pull strings' to get it in time.” -Y “I haven’t any idea how long I’ll be gone. What shall Ido about my apartment?” Lynn was distraught. “Better get it in pack everything, and leave it. When you see how things are, write land I’ll have your stuff sent on to storage That is, if you stay,” he added. (TO BE CO\ TIM LUj