Pride House: The Quest for Vainglory

Chapter 8 A Bad Evening

  In the sitting room Confusion flicked on a small lamp, and they seated themselves in its barely sufficient glow.

  “It’s nothing earth shaking, Mr. Pride, or even really private. I just thought I’d be doing you a favor to get you away from that unpleasant conversation with Doubt. And I really do have something to ask you. I hope you haven’t forgotten what we discussed the morning I arrived? I’m just itching to do some redecorating around here. Why, I could do wonders with this room.”

  “That would be perfectly fine,” Pride assured her. “Just work out the details with Doubt. I’m sure it will be just fine. Just fine.”

  He reflected that there was no time like the present for pressing his suit with this young lady. So although her over-widened eyes and half-open mouth gave her face a suddenly moronic appearance, he made a beginning.

  “Miss Confusion, has Doubt spoken to you about our, uh, unusual marriage arrangement?”

  Her idiotic expression was like a still picture from a broken projector. He wondered if Tedium’s trance was catching.

  “I mean,” he went on more firmly, “are you aware of Doubt’s—indisposition? Her—well, her frigidity?”

  “I beg your pardon, Mr. Pride?”

  “She assured me that she had spoken to you about this.” Pride felt desperation rising within him, but he controlled it, keeping his tones gentle. “To speak plainly, do you know why you’re paying no rent here?”

  She adjusted her position in her chair, settling herself to listen attentively. Pride was suddenly hot and uncomfortable. He felt an impulse to knock over the lamp and run out.

  “Come now,” he found himself saying, “you must know that you’re not here just to—just to—decorate.”

  She did not seem offended, but leaned forward and looked into his eyes in friendly intimacy. “Where will I find the words to thank you for giving me the opportunity? You don’t know how I’ve looked forward to it. And with your permission I intend to begin at once.”

  He was paralyzed. Begin what? Decorating? Unwisely, he chose to maintain the ambivalence. “And will you begin in my room?” he asked, forcing his voice to remain level.

  “Oh, anywhere!”

  Another pause followed, during which he seemed to feel himself aging a year or two. After some time even Confusion’s amiability began to be strained. She glanced at her watch.

  “Thank you so much,” she said. “You won’t mind if I go now?”

  He nodded weakly. She departed.

  Pride shook himself as one who has fallen into a doze, slowly stood, and went looking for Doubt. She must not imagine that he would pass over such a betrayal. Confusion should have been told! He paused at the top of the stair. But what if Doubt had faithfully told her? What if Confusion would begin in his room in earnest that night? What the devil had she meant? What was it exactly she had said?

  Passing along the third floor hallway in the midst of these convolutions, he noticed the door to one of the unused bedrooms slightly ajar and a faint light within. Was Confusion in there perhaps? If she was exploring musty rooms, that would make it certain that she had spoken of decorating, nothing more. He opened the door and went in. Only a small lamp burned in the far corner of the room. In a chair nearer at hand, a man was sitting in the shadows, slumped back and perfectly still, dressed in a dark suit and wearing a stiff, plastic Halloween mask.

  Pride hesitated in shock and fright. “You there! Who are you?” The figure did not stir.

  The dim hallway light was high up and far off. Pride fumbled to flip on the room’s overhead light, but the bulb was apparently burned out. He moved closer to the figure in the chair, his heart thumping. The man did not appear to breathe. Could he even think of removing the mask?

  “Leave him alone!”

  The man seemed to stir, but perhaps it was only the vibration of the floor as Pride thumped down again after a brief flight.

  “Get out of there!” Doubt said.

  She was in the doorway behind him, dressed in her nightgown. Pride ran out and they almost struggled over who would close the door.

  “What—what was that?” Pride gasped.

  “Leave him alone. It’s just Edgar, Edgar my brother. Can’t you let anything be? Must you be prying?” Those rare dots of color were in her cheeks, and she was shaking.

  “What’s he doing—alone—in the dark—with that mask?”

  “Why do you need to know? Aren’t you busy enough with my friends? Why concern yourself? Here, come back to our room.”

  She began tugging at him and he went with her. The farther from that thing, he thought, the better. Was the man really alive?

  After a few steps he shook loose from her and they walked into their bedroom, both silent, both trembling. When Pride slumped down on the edge of his bed, she snaked behind him and began to gently massage his temples.

  “You’re really much too high minded for this,” she said. “I know you don’t want to become emotional over someone else’s—eccentricities. You were so kind to let him come, and he’s deeply grateful, believe me. Don’t annoy yourself because he’s the backward sort. Really, he would prefer for you to forget he’s here. He’ll be no trouble. You won’t even see him.”

  Pride took a deep breath. “OK, OK. But what is it about him? What was he doing in there?”

  “That’s his room.”

  “Move him then. I don’t want him just down the hallway. Geez, your hands are so cold. Do my back, will you?”

  “Fine, fine. We’ll put him elsewhere. He’s not a bit particular.”

  She began rubbing Pride’s shoulders.

  “OK, OK. So what’s the matter with him? He scared the devil out of me.”

  “I told you he’s not well.”

  “He looks dead.”

  Her little fingers dug into his back briefly, then she slowly resumed the massage. He began to feel more relaxed. What did it matter anyway? The fellow was perhaps half mad. So what, so long as he was quiet? Now was not the time to search matters out, not with Miss Confusion to attend to.

  “Did you make it clear to Confusion,” he asked sharply, “what she is expected to do in return for her board? I mean did you spell it out? Are you sure she understands?”

  “Oh, who knows? She never takes anything the way you mean it. She’s pleasant, but a bit of a dim bulb.”

  “But you told her clearly?”

  “I told her. Why?”

  “She seems more interested in decorating.”

  Doubt got up and went to her mirror. She picked up a hairbrush.

  “Just be more assertive,” she said.

  “I’m not sure I want to be.”

  “What?” She smiled.

  “I want to say this as calmly as possible. Her elevator doesn’t go to the top floor. And it’s the same with the other two.”

  “How kind of you to say so.”

  She had an unexplainably merry look in her eye. Had he not seen that same look at the wedding? And when Worry arrived?

  “What are you so happy about?” he asked.

  “Well, what about Tedium?” was her non sequitor.

  “Tedium! With that thing on her wrist? She’s a zombie, an intellectual zero.”

  “Pardon me, I didn’t know you wanted philosophers. We only discussed looks.” She brushed her hair, staring into the mirror.

  “And would she never turn that set off? I mean in bed?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “That’s creepy!”

  “Ah, if one will have one’s little affairs, one must—”

  Someone knocked at the door. Pride rose and answered to Miss Worry who stood outside dressed in polka dot pajamas and a thick robe. She held an open envelope.

  “Mr. Pride, may I have a word with you about your heating bill?”

  “My—? What are you doing with my heating bill?”

  “I
t’s all right,” Doubt’s voice floated from the corner. “I set Worry to handling the bills. She asked and I gave her permission.”

  “Well, what is it?” he asked Worry.

  She lifted her face almost defiantly to his. “What reason can there be for you to pay an amount like this for the month of May?” She pointed out the figure to him.

  “That’s too high,” he said. “There must be some mistake.”

  “No mistake. I’ve been over your old checkbooks. You’ve paid high bills every month as far back as you’ve got records. Something’s badly wrong. Who handled your payments in the past?”

  Pride thought carefully. “Reason. I think Reason. But she’s always so careful.”

  “Nonsense,” said Worry. “You’d better find the hole in your pocket before you’re ruined. Looks to me as if you have an embezzler in the house. She’ll have a partner at the gas company, and they split the profits. It’s an old trick.”

  She stumped off.

  From behind him Doubt’s voice cut the air. “I knew it! It would be her and that great uncle of yours together. You know they never wanted me here. That’s because they were afraid I’d find out.”

  “No, no,” said Pride, closing the door. “You don’t know them. They’re quite trustworthy.” He clapped his hand to his forehead and grinned. “Why, of course! Reason did tell me something about the furnace. She wanted my permission to have it checked over. And that was a long time ago. You see? Why, if I can’t trust Reason, then—”

  “Then you’ve found your culprit,” Doubt crowed. “I told you she’s been scheming.”

  “Not her! I—”

  Another knock at the door. Pride cursed and opened to find Miss Confusion, beaming.

  “Oh!”

  His mind raced. She must have understood after all.

  “‘Miss Confusion, hello! I think I won’t need you in here this evening after all.”

  “In here? Why, of course, but I think I said any room would do, didn’t I?”

  “Well, yes you did. You said that.”

  “I won’t bother you. Just tell me, would it be all right if I close off the dining room until I’m done? We could eat in the kitchen. I’d like the effect to be a surprise.”

  “Close off the—oh, you mean for decorating? Uh, sure. Go right ahead.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “Uh, you did expect me to be alone in here, didn’t you?”

  She looked at him quizzically.

  “I mean you were expecting to come in?”

  “I didn’t expect anything,” she said affably.

  “But you were ready to come in, weren’t you?” Pride did not succeed in keeping the edge out of his voice.

  “If you like, I will now,” she said.

  “No, Doubt is here. I mean, surely that does make a difference to you for whatever we were about to do?”

  Pride gripped the doorframe tightly. She must declare herself now.

  “What we were about to do,” she answered distinctly, “was of course up to you. I only want to be useful. Nothing should hinder that or make the slightest difference whatever. Thank you again, Mr. Pride.” Still beaming, she went off down the hallway.

  Pride closed the door again. “What did she say?” he demanded angrily of Doubt.

  “She said it makes no difference to her,” Doubt said carelessly.

  “What makes no difference? What was she talking about? I tell you, I’ve had enough of it. Where do you find such people?”

  “Let’s discuss it in the morning. I think I feel a cold coming on, so I’m going to bed early.”

  “They won’t do, not any of them. They’ll have to go.”

  “A bit late to tell them that after you’ve invited them in here and after they’ve rearranged their whole lives.”

  “To put it bluntly, I’m not collecting.”

  “To put it bluntly, you haven’t even dunned two of them, and Confusion has not refused you. They’re keeping the bargain. Will you break your promise to them because your tastes are changing?”

  Pride had not thought of it that way. He pondered this while his wife got into her bed and settled in a fetal position.

  “So—so what am I supposed to do with them if I don’t want them?”

  Considering his own question in the silence, Pride experienced one of those moments of truth that were rarer for him than a winter heat wave. He realized with sickening certainty that this odd trio was firmly ensconced within his house and would not be going. He would simply have to adjust to them. And to Edgar, too, the mysterious, eccentric Edgar.