“Emma,” said Nell, pushed to the wall, “I’m afraid this arrangement isn’t going to work out very well after all—”
And then the little round face under the white bangs would grow old and pinched and frightened and Nell would sigh and say, “Well, we’ll see—” and the little face would brighten with relief and things would go on as before...
Emma was idle and lonely. She still had a few baby-sitting jobs when the transportation was included, but the rest of her time was spent without purpose. She didn’t really care much for reading, she hated any sort of handiwork, gardens did not interest her: she had no TV set nor the wherewithal to buy one since she did not even have the wherewithal to pay the rent. This last was an unmentioned, rather sordid matter that Emma refused to acknowledge, and which Nell, exhausted, would no longer bring up after the three times she had mentioned it and as a result suffered excruciatingly from guilt qualms when she’d seen the bleak frightened look on her little friend’s face.
Little friend, hell, Nell said to herself. She’s a leech! But she doesn’t know it. She keeps saying that she’d do the same for me if our positions were reversed, take me in and give me a home and look out for me — she knows damn well our positions could never be reversed, but in the meantime she gets credit for being noble enough to offer her beneficence to me!
Nell was getting frantic. Emma said, at various times: The roof leaks. The heater doesn’t work properly. Now that summer’s here the heat is terrible, perhaps if I could have an air conditioner—?
Winter again. Emma growing plumper, Nell growing leaner. And more tired. Pitter-patter up and down the outside staircase, knocking on the door the minute Nell got home, sitting there chatting but unable to keep the disapproval out of her eyes while Nell sipped her sherry and yearned to read the paper at the same time. Why am I such a fool? Nell asked herself countless times. So, okay, I made a mistake but God knows I’ve paid for it over and over. Do I have to pay forever?
One wintry day Emma tapped lightly on the door and when Nell appeared she said, “Dear, could I see you for a minute?”
“What?” said Nell. “I’m busy with supper.”
“O-oh, it smells wonderful. Swiss steak, is it? Haven’t had any for years, it seems. Just scrambled eggs. Or tuna. Gets kind of tiresome.”
The wind blew a blast of cold air into Nell’s cozy living room.
“What is it, Emma?” she asked impatiently. I’m damned if I’m going to ask her again to have supper with me. She’ll end up a permanent unpaid boarder.
“Well, it’s just the staircase outside. It shakes a little when I use it. That nice Mr. Brown who brought me home the other night noticed it — you know, the one with the two children I sit for, they’re really darling but they do keep me busy, they get into such mischief — where was I?”
“The staircase,” said Nell with foreboding. “What about it?”
“Well, Mr. Brown noticed how it shook when he took me to my door — so polite, the other fathers never do — and he said I should tell my landlady about it.”
Nell went out and inspected the staircase. It did shake. The main post holding it up was beginning to rot at the bottom. Without Emma up there, she thought, I could just let the thing go and close up the apartment. Wait till I get ahead a little with my finances, and then I’ll have it repaired. But not with Emma there.
She said briefly, “I’ll see about it,” and went into her apartment again, ignoring the mewling plea behind her, “Oh, but Nell darling—”
Shut up, said Nell to herself. Shut up!
She sat erect in her chair and cried.
And thus Nell’s life became a shambles. There was now no further talk of paying the rent — Emma was always low on funds. And there were constant complaints (delicately put) of things that should be done to the apartment to make it more habitable, other things that were needed — like transportation, telephone, air conditioning, television — that would make Emma more comfortable and happy. With always the offer to take care of Nell’s house, cook her meals, do her cleaning, refusing to believe Nell when she said, in a moment of exasperation, that all she wanted when she got home at night was peace and quiet and solitude, a look at the paper, and her drink in private.
“You’re just saying that,” said Emma, beaming her bland smile. “But I know that you just don’t want an old friend like me doing menial work for you. But honestly, dear, I don’t mind. I’m very independent, you know, but I like to do my share—”
Another time, a day when Nell was more exhausted than usual, Emma was waiting for her at the door. “I could hardly wait,” she said excitedly. “I’ve had the most wonderful idea that would do wonders for both of us! Look, dear, it’s just that— Oh, let’s go in first and I’ll tell you while you have your little drink — it’s really a solution to everything.”
There’s only one solution, Nell thought drearily, and that’s for you to pack up and leave.
They went in.
“It’s so simple,” said Emma, her voice rising. “Look, I know you could use a little more money and of course I hardly have any at all, so — why don’t I move into that little studio room of yours, where you paint, and rent the upstairs apartment, then we’d both be better off. We could split the rent money because I’d be giving up my own apartment, of course—”
Nell looked at her incredulously. She did not go into explanations. She simply said no, and did not speak again.
Emma left, her head bowed like a child who has been unjustly disciplined, and Nell poured herself a drink and sat trembling in her chair, her thoughts black and deep.
She spoke aloud. “This,” she said, “is the living end. The absolute living end.”
A storm rose slowly, unobserved, from the north, and then came rushing like a wild insane creature of the elements, swooping down in blackness and noise and torrents and terrible sounds until the small house shook. Nell roused and lifted her face and said, “Storm, why don’t you blow off the roof of my house?” The thought felt good.
She got up finally and went outside and saw that the steps leading up to the apartment were trembling in the wind. She went to the unsteady post and examined it, the wind and rain lashing at her. Nell did not notice. She smiled and kept her hand on the fragile support, then gave it a violent shove. It moved dangerously, almost loose from its moorings, ready to go with the least pressure put upon the steps. She smiled, and went into her warm little nest, humming happily to herself.
When would Emma come? She was frightened of storms. There had been other times of wildness in the elements when she would come shivering with fear to Nell’s door and plead to spend the night there. How soon? She must come now — now when the storm was raging.
Still humming, Nell went into the kitchen, got the broom, and banged its handle on the ceiling. That should fetch her.
The storm, the wild screaming wind, pounded on the small house and shook it like an angry giant and the torrents fell and the air was filled with noise and confusion and terrifying threats; and suddenly there was another sound, the wrenching crash of the steps outside as they were torn from their moorings; and then a single human scream... At last, as if finally satisfied, the wind held itself in abeyance for an instant, and suddenly there was no sound at all. Just silence.