IX
On Sunday afternoon, a month after Carl Linstrum's arrival, he rodewith Emil up into the French country to attend a Catholic fair. Hesat for most of the afternoon in the basement of the church, wherethe fair was held, talking to Marie Shabata, or strolled about thegravel terrace, thrown up on the hillside in front of the basementdoors, where the French boys were jumping and wrestling and throwingthe discus. Some of the boys were in their white baseball suits;they had just come up from a Sunday practice game down in theballgrounds. Amedee, the newly married, Emil's best friend, wastheir pitcher, renowned among the country towns for his dash andskill. Amedee was a little fellow, a year younger than Emil andmuch more boyish in appearance; very lithe and active and neatlymade, with a clear brown and white skin, and flashing white teeth.The Sainte-Agnes boys were to play the Hastings nine in a fortnight,and Amedee's lightning balls were the hope of his team. The littleFrenchman seemed to get every ounce there was in him behind theball as it left his hand.
"You'd have made the battery at the University for sure, 'Medee,"Emil said as they were walking from the ball-grounds back to thechurch on the hill. "You're pitching better than you did in thespring."
Amedee grinned. "Sure! A married man don't lose his head no more."He slapped Emil on the back as he caught step with him. "Oh, Emil,you wanna get married right off quick! It's the greatest thingever!"
Emil laughed. "How am I going to get married without any girl?"
Amedee took his arm. "Pooh! There are plenty girls will haveyou. You wanna get some nice French girl, now. She treat you well;always be jolly. See,"--he began checking off on his fingers,--"thereis Severine, and Alphosen, and Josephine, and Hectorine, and Louise,and Malvina--why, I could love any of them girls! Why don't youget after them? Are you stuck up, Emil, or is anything the matterwith you? I never did know a boy twenty-two years old before thatdidn't have no girl. You wanna be a priest, maybe? Not-a for me!"Amedee swaggered. "I bring many good Catholics into this world,I hope, and that's a way I help the Church."
Emil looked down and patted him on the shoulder. "Now you're windy,'Medee. You Frenchies like to brag."
But Amedee had the zeal of the newly married, and he was notto be lightly shaken off. "Honest and true, Emil, don't you wantANY girl? Maybe there's some young lady in Lincoln, now, verygrand,"--Amedee waved his hand languidly before his face to denotethe fan of heartless beauty,--"and you lost your heart up there.Is that it?"
"Maybe," said Emil.
But Amedee saw no appropriate glow in his friend's face. "Bah!"he exclaimed in disgust. "I tell all the French girls to keep 'wayfrom you. You gotta rock in there," thumping Emil on the ribs.
When they reached the terrace at the side of the church, Amedee,who was excited by his success on the ball-grounds, challengedEmil to a jumping-match, though he knew he would be beaten. Theybelted themselves up, and Raoul Marcel, the choir tenor and FatherDuchesne's pet, and Jean Bordelau, held the string over which theyvaulted. All the French boys stood round, cheering and humpingthemselves up when Emil or Amedee went over the wire, as if theywere helping in the lift. Emil stopped at five-feet-five, declaringthat he would spoil his appetite for supper if he jumped any more.
Angelique, Amedee's pretty bride, as blonde and fair as her name,who had come out to watch the match, tossed her head at Emil andsaid:--
"'Medee could jump much higher than you if he were as tall. Andanyhow, he is much more graceful. He goes over like a bird, andyou have to hump yourself all up."
"Oh, I do, do I?" Emil caught her and kissed her saucy mouth squarely,while she laughed and struggled and called, "'Medee! 'Medee!"
"There, you see your 'Medee isn't even big enough to get you awayfrom me. I could run away with you right now and he could onlysit down and cry about it. I'll show you whether I have to humpmyself!" Laughing and panting, he picked Angelique up in his armsand began running about the rectangle with her. Not until he sawMarie Shabata's tiger eyes flashing from the gloom of the basementdoorway did he hand the disheveled bride over to her husband."There, go to your graceful; I haven't the heart to take you awayfrom him."
Angelique clung to her husband and made faces at Emil over thewhite shoulder of Amedee's ball-shirt. Emil was greatly amused ather air of proprietorship and at Amedee's shameless submission toit. He was delighted with his friend's good fortune. He liked tosee and to think about Amedee's sunny, natural, happy love.
He and Amedee had ridden and wrestled and larked together sincethey were lads of twelve. On Sundays and holidays they were alwaysarm in arm. It seemed strange that now he should have to hide thething that Amedee was so proud of, that the feeling which gave oneof them such happiness should bring the other such despair. Itwas like that when Alexandra tested her seed-corn in the spring,he mused. From two ears that had grown side by side, the grainsof one shot up joyfully into the light, projecting themselves intothe future, and the grains from the other lay still in the earthand rotted; and nobody knew why.