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Whatever is brought to me, whatever is coming, Homer thought, I will not move out of its way. Life was finally about to happen to him--the journey he proposed making, back to St. Cloud's, was actually going to give him his freedom from St. Cloud's. He would have a baby (if not a wife, too); he would need a job.
Of course I'll take the baby trees, and plant them, he was thinking--as if apple trees would satisfy St. Cloud's, as if his planting them would satisfy what Wilbur Larch wanted from him.
By the end of the harvest, the light grew grayer and the orchards were darker in the daytime, although more light passed through the empty trees. The picking crew's inexperience was visible in the shriveled apples still clinging to the hard-to-reach limbs. The ground was already frozen in St. Cloud's. Homer would have to make a special trip for the baby trees. He would plant them in the spring; it would be a spring baby.
Homer and Candy worked only the night shifts at Cape Kenneth Hospital now. The days when Ray was building the torpedoes were the days Homer could spend with Candy, in her room above the lobster pound.
There was a freedom about their lovemaking, now that Candy was already pregnant. Although she could not tell him--not yet--Candy loved making love to Homer Wells; she enjoyed herself much more than she had been able to with Wally. But she could not bring herself to say aloud that anything was better than with Wally; although making love was better with Homer, she doubted that this was Wally's fault. She and Wally had never had the time to feel so free.
"The girl and I are coming," Homer wrote to Dr. Larch. "She's going to have my baby--neither an abortion nor an orphan."
"A wanted baby!" Nurse Angela said. "We're going to have a wanted baby!"
"If not a planned one," said Wilbur Larch, who stared out the window of Nurse Angela's office as if the hill that rose outside the window had personally risen against him. "And I suppose he's going to plant the damn trees," said Dr. Larch. "What does he want a baby for? How can he have a baby and go to college--or to medical school?"
"When was he ever going to go to medical school, Wilbur?" Nurse Edna asked.
"I knew he'd be back!" Nurse Angela shouted. "He belongs with us!"
"Yes, he does," said Wilbur Larch. Involuntarily, and somewhat stiffly, his back straightened, his knees braced, his arms reached out and the fingers of his hands partially opened--as if he were preparing to receive a heavy package. Nurse Edna shuddered to see him in such a pose, which reminded her of the fetus from Three Mile Falls, that dead baby whose posture of such extreme supplication had been arranged by Homer Wells.
Homer said to Olive Worthington: "I hate to leave, especially with Christmas coming, and all those memories--but there is something, and someone, I've been neglecting. It's really al
l of them at Saint Cloud's--nothing changes there. They always need the same things, and now that there's a war, and everyone is making an effort for the war, I think Saint Cloud's is more forgotten than ever. And Doctor Larch isn't getting any younger. I should be of more use than I am here. With the harvest over, I don't feel I have enough to do. At Saint Cloud's, there's always too much to do."
"You're a fine young man," said Olive Worthington, but Homer hung his head. He remembered what Mr. Rochester said to Jane Eyre:
"Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre: remorse is the poison of life."
It was an early November morning in the kitchen at Ocean View; Olive had not done her hair or put her makeup on. The gray in the light, and in her face and in her hair, made Mrs. Worthington look older to Homer. She was using the string of her tea bag to wring the last of the tea from the bag, and Homer could not raise his eyes from the ropy, knotted veins in the backs of her hands. She had always smoked too much, and in the morning she always coughed.
"Candy is coming with me," said Homer Wells.
"Candy is a fine young woman," Olive said. "It is most unselfish of you both--when you could be enjoying yourselves--to give comfort and companionship to unwanted children." The string across the belly of the tea bag was so taut that Homer thought it would slice through the bag. Olive's voice was so formal that she might have been speaking at an awards ceremony describing the heroism that was worthy of prizes. She was trying her hardest not to cough. When the string tore the tea bag, some of the wet leaves stuck to the yolk of her uneaten soft-boiled egg, which was perched in a china egg cup that Homer Wells had once mistaken for a candlestick holder.
"I could never thank you enough for everything you've done for me," Homer said. Olive Worthington just shook her head; her shoulders were squared, her chin was up, the straightness of her back was formidable. "I'm so sorry about Wally," said Homer Wells. There was the slightest movement in Olive's throat, but the muscles of her neck were rigid.
"He's just missing," Olive said.
"Right," said Homer Wells. He put his hand on Olive's shoulder. She gave no indication that the presence of his hand was either a burden or a comfort, but after they remained like that for a while, she turned her face enough to rest her cheek on top of his hand; there they remained for a while longer, as if posing for a painter of the old school--or for a photographer who was waiting for the unlikely: for the November sun to come out.
Olive insisted that he take the white Cadillac.
"Well," Ray said to Candy and to Homer, "I think it's good for you both that you stick together." Ray was disappointed that neither Homer nor Candy acknowledged his observation with any enthusiasm; as the Cadillac was leaving the lobster pound parking lot, Ray called out to them: "And try havin' some fun together!" Somehow, he doubted that they had heard him.
Who goes to St. Cloud's to have fun?
I have not really been adopted, thought Homer Wells. I am not really betraying Mrs. Worthington; she never said she was my mother. Even so, Homer and Candy did not talk a lot on the drive.
On their journey inland, the farther north they drove, the more the leaves had abandoned the trees; there was a little snow in Skowhegan, where the ground resembled an old man's face in need of a shave. There was more snow in Blanchard and in East Moxie and in Moxie Gore, and they had to wait an hour in Ten Thousand Acre Tract where a tree was down--across the road. The snow had drifted over the tree, the smashed shape of which resembled a toppled dinosaur. In Moose River and in Misery Gore, and in Tomhegan, too, the snow had come to stay. The drifts along the roadside were shorn so sharply by the plow--and they stood so high--that Candy and Homer could detect the presence of a house only by chimney smoke, or by the narrow paths chopped through the drifts that were here and there stained by the territorial pissing of dogs.
Olive and Ray and Meany Hyde had given them extra gas coupons. They had decided to take the car because they thought that it would be nice to have a means to get away from St. Cloud's--if only for short drives--but by the time they reached Black Rapids and Homer had put the chains on the rear tires, they realized that the winter roads (and this was only the beginning of the winter) would make most driving impossible.
If they had asked him, Dr. Larch would have saved them the trouble of bringing the car. He would have said that no one comes to St. Cloud's for the purpose of taking little trips away from it; he would have suggested, for fun, that they could always take the train to Three Mile Falls.
With the bad roads and the failing light and the snow that began to fall after Ellenville, it was already dark when they reached St. Cloud's. The headlights of the white Cadillac, climbing the hill past the girls' division, illuminated two women walking down the hill toward the railroad station--their faces turning away from the light. Their footing looked unsure; one of them didn't have a scarf; the other one didn't have a hat; the snow winked in the headlights as if the women were throwing diamonds in the air.
Homer Wells stopped the car and rolled down the window. "May I give you a ride?" he asked the women.
