humanity

For better or for worse, relationships reveal the core of the human condition.

After You Captain
"After you, Captain!" he cried genially. And, treading on the old man's heels, he strode up the gangway on to the deck in a bee-line to Janey, and Janey was clasped in his arms. "Well, well, well! Yes, yes! Here we are at last!" he stammered. It was all he could say. And Janey emerged, and her cool little voice - the only voice in the world for him - said, "Well, darling! Have you been waiting long?" No; not long. Or, at any rate, it didn't matter. It was over now. But the point was, he had a cab waiting at the end of the wharf. Was she ready to go off. Was her luggage ready? In that case they could cut off sharp with her cabin luggage and let the rest go hang until to-morrow. He bent over her and she looked up with her familiar half-smile. She was just the same. Not a day changed. Just as he'd always known her. She laid her small hand on his sleeve. "How are the children, John?" she asked. (Hang the children!) "Perfectly well. Never better in their lives." "Haven't they sent me letters?" "Yes, yes - of course! I've left them at the hotel for you to digest later on." "We can't go quite so fast," said she. "I've got people to say good-bye to - and then there's the Captain." As his face fell she gave his arm a small understanding squeeze. "If the Captain comes off the bridge I want you to thank him for having looked after your wife so beautifully." Well, he'd got her. If she wanted another ten minutes - As he gave way she was surrounded. The whole first-class seemed to want to say good-bye to Janey. "Good-bye, dear Mrs. Hammond! And next time you're in Sydney I'll expect you." "Darling Mrs. Hammond! You won't forget to write to me, will you?" "Well, Mrs. Hammond, what this boat would have been without you!" It was as plain as a pikestaff that she was by far the most popular woman on board. And she took it all - just as usual. Absolutely composed. Just her little self - just Janey all over; standing there with her veil thrown back. Hammond never noticed what his wife had on. It was all the same to him whatever she wore. But to-day he did notice that she wore a black "costume" - didn't they call it? - with white frills, trimmings he supposed they were, at the neck and sleeves. All this while Janey handed him round. "John, dear!" And then: "I want to introduce you to--" Finally they did escape, and she led the way to her state-room. To follow Janey down the passage that she knew so well - that was so strange to him; to part the green curtains after her and to step into the cabin that had been hers gave him exquisite happiness. But - confound it! - the stewardess was there on the floor, strapping up the rugs. "That's the last, Mrs. Hammond," said the stewardess, rising and pulling down her cuffs. He was introduced again, and then Janey and the stewardess disappeared into the passage. He heard whisperings. She was getting the tipping business over, he supposed. He sat down on the striped sofa and took his hat off. There were the rugs she had taken with her; they looked good as new. All her luggage looked fresh, perfect. The labels were written in her beautiful little clear hand - "Mrs. John Hammond." "Mrs. John Hammond!" He gave a long sigh of content and leaned back, crossing his arms. The strain was over. He felt he could have sat there for ever sighing his relief - the relief at being rid of that horrible tug, pull, grip on his heart. The danger was over. That was the feeling. They were on dry land again. But at that moment Janey's head came round the corner. "Darling - do you mind? I just want to go and say good-bye to the doctor." Hammond started up. "I'll come with you." "No, no!" she said. "Don't bother. I'd rather not. I'll not be a minute." And before he could answer she was gone. He had half a mind to run after her; but instead he sat down again. Would she really not be long? What was the time now? Out came the watch; he stared at nothing. That was rather queer of Janey, wasn't it? Why couldn't she have told the stewardess to say good-bye for her? Why did she have to go chasing after the ship's doctor? She could have sent a note from the hotel even if the affair had been urgent. Urgent? Did it - could it mean that she had been ill on the voyage - she was keeping something from him? That was it! He seized his hat. He was going off to find that fellow and to wring the truth out of him at all costs. He thought he'd noticed just something. She was just a touch too calm - too steady. From the very first moment - The curtains rang. Janey was back. He jumped to his feet. "Janey, have you been ill on this voyage? You have!" "Ill?" Her airy little voice mocked him. She stepped over the rugs, and came up close, touched his breast, and looked up at him. "Darling," she said, "don't frighten me. Of course I haven't! Whatever makes you think I have? Do I look ill?" But Hammond didn't see her. He only felt that she was looking at him and that there was no need to worry about anything. She was here to look after things. It was all right. Everything was. The gentle pressure of her hand was so calming that he put his over hers to hold it there. And she said: "Stand still. I want to look at you. I haven't seen you yet. You've had your beard beautifully trimmed, and you look - younger, I think, and decidedly thinner! Bachelor life agrees with you." "Agrees with me!" He groaned for love and caught her close again. And again, as always, he had the feeling that he was holding something that never was quite his - his. Something too delicate, too precious, that would fly away once he let go. "For God's sake let's get off to the hotel so that we can be by ourselves!" And he rang the bell hard for some one to look sharp with the luggage. Walking down the wharf together she took his arm. He had her on his arm again. And the difference it made to get into the cab after Janey - to throw the redand-yellow striped blanket round them both - to tell the driver to hurry because neither of them had had any tea. No more going without his tea or pouring out his own. She was back. He turned to her, squeezed her hand, and said gently, teasingly, in the "special" voice he had for her: "Glad to be home again, dearie?" She smiled; she didn't even bother to answer, but gently she drew his hand away as they came to the brighter streets. "We've got the best room in the hotel," he said. "I wouldn't be put off with another. And I asked the chambermaid to put in a bit of a fire in case you felt chilly. She's a nice, attentive girl. And I thought now we were here we wouldn't bother to go home to-morrow, but spend the day looking round and leave the morning after. Does that suit you? There's no hurry, is there? The children will have you soon enough ... I thought a day's sight-seeing might make a nice break in your journey - eh, Janey?" "Have you taken the tickets for the day after?" she asked. "I should think I have!" He unbuttoned his overcoat and took out his bulging pocket-book. "Here we are! I reserved a first-class carriage to Cooktown. There it is - 'Mr. and Mrs. John Hammond.' I thought we might as well do ourselves comfortably, and we don't want other people butting in, do we? But if you'd like to stop here a bit longer--?" "Oh, no!" said Janey quickly. "Not for the world! The day after to-morrow, then. And the children--" But they had reached the hotel. The manager was standing in the broad, brilliantly-lighted porch. He came down to greet them. A porter ran from the hall for their boxes. "Well, Mr. Arnold, here's Mrs. Hammond at last!" The manager led them through the hall himself and pressed the elevator-bell. Hammond knew there were business pals of his sitting at the little hall tables having a drink before dinner. But he wasn't going to risk interruption; he looked neither to the right nor the left. They could think what they pleased. If they didn't understand, the more fools they - and he stepped out of the lift, unlocked the door of their room, and shepherded Janey in. The door shut. Now, at last, they were alone together. He turned up the light. The curtains were drawn; the fire blazed. He flung his hat on to the huge bed and went towards her. But - would you believe it! - again they were interrupted. This time it was the porter with the luggage. He made two journeys of it, leaving the door open in between, taking his time, whistling through his teeth in the corridor. Hammond paced up and down the room, tearing off his gloves, tearing off his scarf. Finally he flung his overcoat on to the bedside. At last the fool was gone. The door clicked. Now they were alone. Said Hammond: "I feel I'll never have you to myself again. These cursed people! Janey" - and he bent his flushed, eager gaze upon her - "let's have dinner up here. If we go down to the restaurant we'll be interrupted, and then there's the confounded music" (the music he'd praised so highly, applauded so loudly last night!). "We shan't be able to hear each other speak. Let's have something up here in front of the fire. It's too late for tea. I'll order a little supper, shall I? How does that idea strike you?" "Do, darling!" said Janey. "And while you're away - the children's letters--" "Oh, later on will do!" said Hammond. "But then we'd get it over," said Janey. "And I'd first have time to--" "Oh, I needn't go down!" explained Hammond. "I'll just ring and give the order ... you don't want to send me away, do you?" Janey shook her head and smiled. "But you're thinking of something else. You're worrying about something," said Hammond. "What is it? Come and sit here - come and sit on my knee before the fire."
By shiv4 years ago in Humans
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Shonto
We were driving way too fast down the highway outside of Flagstaff, when Kelly yelled, “Turn around, we have to go back!” It was 105 degrees, blazing sun, the heat making the road ahead seem hazy and shimmery. Kelly said again, “Turn around! There was an old woman walking down the road back there.”
By Kate Baker4 years ago in Humans
HELLO
"Just take the surface boards down ma'am, we will get there and finish the rest and not bill you for the demolition portion of the kitchen reface." That was the last time the contractor said anything. We try and do the right thing but seem to reap only the push me back resolve for our efforts. The "ANGIES LIST" had referred to three of the better selections for kitchen rehab after breaking down from running into office after office of local home repair persons. My wallet was as full of dollars as my mind was filled with hopes for the outcome and possibilities from any one of the three "magicians" laid at my feet. This was a 1911 Jacobean original and I was striving to make it "beautiful." Beautiful or at least doable. the dining room had been repaired for the hole in the ceiling where an inspector had fallen thru the weak boards in the second-floor bathroom. The boards had been made weak by constant toilet flooding and overly worn flooring around the commode. That rot removed and repaired brought attention to refinishing the room beneath it. The floors had already been stripped of three layers of old carpet, the window air conditioning unit removed and the gaping hole it left in the dining room replaced with a large new picture window. I had eagerly stripped the plaster and lathe wall down in the kitchen on the opposite wall from the dining room just because the contractor... best in town, was "coming on Monday." When I called to remind the office secretary and confirm that I actually had the dates right, I was told they were gone out of town to New Orleans and Texas. The Hurricane Lee effects and call to volunteer had every contractor from carpentry to plumbing and electrical out on a special mission of putting the damage back into liveable conditions. My wall was good testimony that the devastation that could tear out bricks and mortar... plaster and stick walls was and could have far reaches... further than the assessment team would ever know. Our family reunion was slated to occur, at my house, within months. I was a realtor, not a carpenter or... WHAT ELSE COULD POSSIBLY HAPPEN?! I consoled myself by knowing that most of an excess of one hundred people would not and could not stand to be late leaving for home from the reunion. None would show up that did not get an invitation. The kitchen wall was gutted, and past all formal greetings the secretary's "hello" was the last thing on my mind. I hang up the phone thinking, "How could my day get any worse." I dialed the Lumber Liquidator's office line to ask the floor resurfacer what day he was to install new floorboards. The men in that office were bumbling as well. Barely past the first "hello" the respondent laid the phone aside to search the store. They could not locate the man hired by their store to do installations. The parquet floors he was to replace in the den were taken up by us as agreed, but he would not be coming out to start the job. He'd left his carpet hammer laying in the middle of the floor, gone out to get a measuring tape and not come back in. His truck left our front drive and that was the last heard of him. To make matters that much more alarming, the painting contractor that I'd nabbed on a Sunday outing to get ice cream for mom and the guys, could not finish his estimate during the tabletop meeting held in my back yard later that day. I was intent upon getting as much work done... as most people do... it was the hired help that the question had to be asserted to; WHAT WERE THEY DOING to make my or anyone's day work?
By CarmenJimersonCross4 years ago in Humans