Chapter Three: Very Merry
Back at the table, Mr. Benchley, Mrs. Parker and Miss Millay were engaged in a closing glass of sherry, and a debate as to the true identity of their new acquaintances.
Mrs. Parker was arguing, decisively, "There is no way P.G. knows that man, because if P.G. knew him, I would know him. Many other women I know would have known him, as well. And I do mean in the biblical sense."
Mr. Benchley raised an eyebrow, and swirled his port around in its glass. He could not imagine all the women they knew throwing themselves at the Doctor's feet, if he was a doctor, which he seriously doubted.
Mrs. Parker continued, "The whole thing about their having titles, it's preposterous. Even if he had, she certainly does not. Too many 'aint's' and 'havin's,' and I don't believe she's ever been to a restaurant! Oh, and I have to tell you the most shocking thing, she confided to me that he has been arrested before, and something about running for their lives in a foreign country-"
Miss Millay jumped forward on her chair and said with delight, "Do you suppose they are anarchists? Perhaps he is wanted in Russia, or Italy, right now, and she, so in love with him, has accompanied him into his exile, looking for a new start in America. Perhaps they are meeting a contact here in New York, and thought you might be them!"
Mr. Benchley had heard enough, and felt it was time to interject some reason. "My dear ladies, as taken as you are with your romantic notions, I can promise you, after careful study, that this 'Sir Smith' is far too big a goof to successfully set off an explosion, anywhere, let alone seduce all the women in the Arts on both sides of the Atlantic. No, I am afraid you have been taken in by two hopeful actors, looking to make an impression."
Mrs. Parker inhaled sharply. "Actors!" She made a tut-tut and shook her head, her shoulders falling. "How disappointing. But now I see it clear as day, Bob, and I must concur. What a pity."
Miss Millay spotted the Doctor and Rose coming back to the table, and shushed the clandestine discussion.
The Doctor and Rose retook their seats, Mrs. Parker asking, "Did you have a nice trot?" Both nodded yes.
"Sherry?" offered Mr. Benchley, and was refused, after which silence reigned for a few moments.
Unable to sustain the tension, Miss Millay's face crinkled up with impish delight and she blurted, "We have found you out, the pair of you!"
Rose felt herself freeze. She wondered how the Doctor was going to handle their being 'made' as aliens. Well, one alien, and one very much out-of-place human. Would he invite these people onto the Tardis for a tour? That really would be the end of her romantic evening, wouldn't it.
Mr. Benchley continued, "Yes, the ladies here thought you might be an international Lothario, Doctor, or perhaps a daring anarchist on the lam from the coppers, accompanied by your inamorata. But I have sussed you out."
The Doctor looked intrigued. He leaned comfortably back in his chair, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Do tell, Sir, what have you discovered?"
Miss Millay broke in gleefully. "That you are a pair of aspiring actors, who have given a most entertaining, if not quite convincing enough, audition this evening! And I say, 'Bravo'!"
The Doctor sprung up and grabbed Mr. Benchley's hand, to shake it. "Congratulations! Quite right! Quite right! You are a discerning man, Sir, yes, very clever! Astonishing powers of perception! Rose, aren't you surprised they discovered us so quickly?"
Rose took the opportunity to get on her feet, just in case they were about to have to run for it. "No, but I'm afraid it's my fault-I make a rather poor Society Lady."
"Not at all, my dear" Mr. Benchley kindly admonished, "don't think that for a moment." He stood and gave Rose a bow. "It's been my pleasure to dine with such a fine 'society lady,' as you put it."
"Why thank you, Mr. Benchley, your kindness has been, so kind, and we are forever in your debt, with our, lots of indebtedness," Rose put on, and gave a little curtsey.
Mrs. Parker tossed her napkin disgustedly onto the table. She announced, "On that note, I shall conduct this symphony to a close. Edna, perhaps you would like to take charge of our brash thespians and see if Bohemians, Incorporated might want them for those Follies they're getting up down at the Greenwich Village Theater."
Miss Millay was bubbling with mirth, and holding out her hand to Rose, said, "Come along, thespians!"
"It was such a pleasure, really, thank you, and thank you-for the oysters-and…" the Doctor called out over his shoulder, as he had to hustle away to keep up with the rapidly retreating pair of girls.
They didn't wait for the elevator, they just sprung the roof's emergency stairwell door and ran, laughing, the three of them, down ten flights of stairs and into the street.
Stopping to catch their breath, Vincent exclaimed, "That was wonderful! Haven't seen Dottie so 'had' by anyone, ever. They can be such a horror, those two, though they mean well. Having to hobnob is the only downside to my being the 'new sensation'; well, that and the poverty." She grinned. "Anyways, stick by me the rest of the night and you shall have some real fun."
Even though it wasn't the hot date she had imagined, Rose found herself perfectly content locking arms with the Doctor on one side, and Vincent on the other, agreeing she would enjoy a tour of Vincent's version of New York City, very much.
They made their way across Times Square to a stairway leading underground. "New subway stop! Just opened in January," Vincent said. "Train runs all the way from South Ferry to Central Park, now." Walking down into the freshly tiled station, she noted, "Doesn't even smell like a stable, yet." She held out her hand to stop them for a moment, and asked, "You do have American money for the fares?"
The Doctor searched about in his pockets and gave them an apologetic shrug.
Rose gaped at him, and asked, with great wonderment, "How'd you plan on payin' for dinner?"
"Didn't know where we'd land, mystery tour and all that-figured on winging it," he answered, distractedly still fishing; after a moment, his face lit up. "Ah, here's this." He pulled out an old air mail stamp. "Twenty-four cents U.S. Postage," he read. "This should cover all of us."
"Give it here," Vincent said. She walked over to a booth containing a rather sour-faced man, and began speaking to him.
Rose and the Doctor couldn't hear the conversation, but they saw the man's demeanor soften, and by the time Vincent turned to come back to them, he was laughing, and she was victoriously holding up three subway tickets.
"Here's your stamp back." She handed it to the Doctor. "Whaddayouknow, he wouldn't take it! He is so sweet-" She turned to give him a wave and he waved back.
A downtown train was approaching. Vincent burbled happily on as they surrendered their tickets and boarded. "I do have such a good time in New York; it's fun to treat people as if they were human beings just like yourself. They like it, and come right back at you with it. I picked up a spilled bundle for a woman the other day-her arms were so full she could hardly bend-and carried it for her a couple of blocks, and she blessed me as if I were an angel, kept saying how kind I was, and that it was things like that, happening only once or twice in a lifetime, that made life worth living."
"She didn't think a stranger would be nice to her more than once or twice her whole life? That's terrible!" Rose exclaimed, with a genuinely stricken look on her face.
"You're cute," Vincent replied, and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on Rose's cheek.
The Doctor cleared his throat. "Ahem."
"Haven't seen you kissing her tonight," Vincent shot right back at him, "and I think someone should. You're very kissable," she said, turning back to Rose.
"You jealous?" Rose teased the Doctor, taking it all in good fun.
Catching Rose's attention, when Vincent looked away for a moment, the Doctor began nodding toward the poetess with his head, rolling his eyes and raising his eyebrows. What he was trying to indicate, Rose had no idea.
Giving up trying to read him, she said, "Speakin' a kissin', check out those two. Been goin' at it since we got on." She directed their attention to a couple at the back of the car who were obviously making out under a man's overcoat.
When the pair decided to come up for air, Vincent looked closely then exclaimed, in a shocked tone, "Norma!"
The girl looked up and gave a guilty grin. The much older man next to her waved and bellowed down the car, "Hallo, Edna!"
Vincent jumped to her feet and walked toward them, grabbing onto hand straps to steady herself in the rocking train. The other girl got up and met her halfway. They were notably of a similar height and build, and coloring. As soon as they came together, they began having an animated, whispered conversation. There were many glances back in the direction of the strange man, Vincent's looks rather hostile, Norma's flirtatious. Finally, upon arriving at some sort of truce, Vincent hugged the girl, and came back to her seat.
"Well that was my sister, Norma, putting an interesting twist to the evening," she announced.
Not wanting to pry, the Doctor and Rose both held their tongues.
"Christopher Street! Christopher Street!" the attendant announced when the doors opened at the next station. Norma and her beaux got off, Vincent giving a half-hearted wave and a sigh.
"This would have been our stop, I wanted to show you Washington Square, but now my mood's soured, and I've promised not to go home until dawn." Not receiving the prying and digging she was expecting, she volunteered, "Norma's going with that–married person–and I'm to meet her at home at dawn, to be her alibi. I'm to say she was with me all night, and we fell asleep at a girlfriend's. Oh, I don't care, I'm not letting it spoil my fun. I've stayed up all night many times before, and I'll do it again." She paused, considering her options. "I know! I'll play a homeless vagabond. We must buy some sausages and beer and tie them up in a kerchief for me, at the end of a stick."
Rose barely stifled a snort, and braced herself for a possible new companion. Surely the Doctor would invite Vincent onboard the Tardis now. She realized she wouldn't mind such a development, at all, in fact she was rather hoping for it.
The Doctor surprised her, by making a completely different type of suggestion. "Isn't there a beach over on Staten Island, and a ferry that runs to it all night?" he asked Vincent.
"Yes," she replied. "Well, the good beach, with the Ferris Wheel, that's too far to walk–but there is a smaller sort of beach that might do, not too far from the landing. And it would have a great deal of driftwood, if we wanted a fire."
"Then I propose we stay on to the end of the line, and embark on a free maritime excursion to the beach. Rose is always asking for a beach–"
"Not in the middle of the night, in a cocktail dress–"Rose interrupted.
"–and, Rose," he interrupted her back, scolding her a little with his tone, "wouldn't you like a nice bonfire, absolutely you would, and oh, Rose! You'll have a stupendous view of the Statue of Liberty! Can't miss that, Rose. Vincent's right, we must stop for provisions. We'll need provisions. Sausages, beer, fruit, bread, cheese, the staples of the wanderer! Putting them at the end of a stick won't be necessary, I'll carry the bags." The Doctor was literally bouncing up and down by the end of this speech, overtaken with excitement. "What say you, shall we tramp 'til dawn?"
"Oh, let us do just that!" Vincent pressed Rose, grabbing and squeezing her arm enthusiastically.
Rose laughed, giving in, "Alright, but, yeah, no sticks."
"South Ferry, end of the line!"
The trio hopped out onto the platform and climbed back to the surface. A clock was tolling eleven. Even at this hour, people and vehicles were still moving about. As they walked the short distance toward the ferry dock, the Doctor kept his eyes open for a possible source of snacks. All the pushcarts had gone home for the day, but by a stroke of luck there was one small grocery still open.
An older couple, evidently the owners, greeted the Doctor as he bounded into the store, and they began discussing what he wanted. After a few words, the Doctor realized they were having difficulty communicating in English, so he switched to something Vincent didn't recognize.
She asked Rose, "What language is that?"
With the Tardis translating, Rose wouldn't have known he was speaking in anything besides English if Vincent hadn't mentioned it. "Italian?" she guessed, weakly.
Vincent shook her head. "That's not Italian."
"Yiddish!" the Doctor called over his shoulder.
The couple were thrilled to speak to the Doctor in their own tongue. The three of them embarked on an animated conversation that began with gossip about the Russian revolution, then moved on to the best sights in Kiev for a visitor to take in, then to fishing opportunities on the Dnieper river, and, finally, herring-especially the wonders and virtues of pickled herring. To his chagrin, the Doctor discovered, they did not have any for sale.
There was, however, a large wheel of cheese on the counter, which he pointed to and asked if they could have a sample. Motioning the girls over, the shop owners knifed out chunks for them all to taste.
"Mmm!" the Doctor exclaimed, smacking the cheese around on his palate. "Fresh, local dairy, one of the wonders of the universe," he said, this time speaking English, for Vincent's benefit. "This is classic cheddar, made from milled curds, not stirred." He closed his eyes, his attention disappearing into the flavors, then declared, "Been aged in a cave. I'd say for oh, at least two years. Notes of nuts and mushrooms. Brilliant!" Addressing the couple he said, "I'll absolutely have some of that."
"Doctor," Rose asked him, as the store owners cut a piece of cheese and carefully wrapped it in cloth, "what are you going to do if you come back lactose intolerant some day?"
"The Eye of Harmony would never do that to me, Rose." He replied. "It would be inexcusable cruelty."
He began pointing to other things in the shop to add to their order: a loaf of coarse bread, a few bottles of beer, a small hunk of dry salami.
Rose could sense Vincent growing tense next to her, and asked her, "Bet you're wondering how we're gonna pay for all this stuff?"
"Yes." Vincent let out an embarrassed chuckle. "I was."
Rose thought a moment. She slid off her expensive head band then went over and knocked the Doctor on the shoulder with it.
"Oh, payment! Right! Thank you, Rose." He showed it to the couple.
Vincent saw their faces become overtaken by astonishment, then they were shaking their heads and holding up their hands, refusing to accept it. The Doctor cajoled and charmed them for another minute or two, and they finally gave in. Taking it up, the man studied the headband carefully under a bright light that hung over the register, paying special attention to the diamond on the pendant. Suddenly the man let out a great "whoop" and the pair began hugging one another. They ran from behind the counter and hugged everyone. The woman grabbed Rose and kissed her on her forehead, where there was a small, red mark where the headband had been irritating her skin, anyways.
"Take more! Take more! Take it all!" the man began to say, and fetching a couple of empty crates from the back, he loaded them up with more bread, entire lengths of salami, and several more bottles of beer, then the entire remains of the wheel of cheese. He instructed his wife to fill two paper bags with fresh apples and pears.
"We can't carry any more, that's enough, really!" Rose protested.
Vincent gave her a startled look. "Rose, you speak Yiddish, too?"
Russians!, thought Vincent. Trading stolen jewels for food and passage. She was more convinced than ever that these were a pair of radical saboteurs. She made a note to alert John Reed as to their presence in New York, figuring he must know who exactly they were, having spent all of last year covering the Bolshevik revolution for The Masses magazine.
"May you live to lead your children and children's children to the wedding canopy!" the man thanked them. "We had not sold enough today to close yet, but now we shall close for a week!"
"You're not closing the store for a week!" his wife yelled, then admonished him, "One musn't eat the challah before saying the blessing."
The husband came back with, "Sometimes a penny spent is better than a penny saved!" and then there were a string of pithy proverbs, fading as the Doctor, Rose and Vincent retreated with their haul.
A line of automobiles, work trucks, and even one mule-drawn wagon were lined up to board the ferry, along with a hodgepodge of foot passengers. The ferry came along about twenty minutes later, belching soot and puffing steam, its whistle blowing.
Vincent suggested they spend their passage on the upper deck, where they could get them away from the prominent smells of horse manure and spilled motor oil that permeated downstairs. They gathered at a spot along the starboard bow rail to watch the departure. The clock ashore chimed midnight, and the ferry surged and chugged away out into the Hudson, towards the East Bay and Staten Island.
In a few minutes the Doctor instructed Rose be on the look out for the Statue of Liberty. They were near enough, but could not see it well, as it was shrouded in darkness. The monument's only distinguishable feature was her forehead, lit by a bright lamp shining out from the windows along her crown. The Doctor still gave an informed narration for this mostly-invisible point of interest, giving the work's original name-"La liberté éclairant le monde"-and explaining the only person climbing up her interior cast iron spiral staircase today would have been the resident lighthouse keeper, for the statue was meant just for that purpose-as a lighthouse.
Vincent thought they should get out of the wind, and said she wanted a drink. They sat down cross-legged in a circle together, the canvas panels of the railings shielding them a little and helping them keep warm. Vincent produced a pocket knife to open three of the beers, and passed them round. "To liberty!" she toasted.
"Liberty! Yes! Freedom! Yes!" An exotic yellow-skinned woman with masses of black curls spoke as she approached them. Without invitation, she plopped down between Vincent and the Doctor, who kindly made more room for her. "My people were slaves for five hundred years, but now, here I am, free, in America!" she expounded, banging her fist down on the deck and then sweeping her hand out to take in the horizon. She was young, with voluminous striped skirts of a woven homespun fabric, a flowing blouse and thick quilted shawl over her head and shoulders. "I am Maria," she offered. "I can read your future!" she declared.
"Oh yes, please!" Rose instantly agreed.
"Not me," Vincent said, "I would not want to know."
"That is too bad, I am hungry and my family would like me to bring home a few coins. Papa is so very ill right now. Please, Miss, you are lucky and rich, you should let me read your palm," she pushed.
"Here you go, Maria," the Doctor said, pulling one of their bags into the middle of the circle, "we've no money, but have a sack of pears."
Maria made a disgusted face. "I don't eat them."
"Me neither," the Doctor said, and gingerly pulled the bag back and out of his sight, with an expression to match Maria's.
"But here," Vincent interjected, "we've beer, bread, sausage, cheese and apples, too! You must enjoy those things? We can fix you up a bundle. Will that do?"
"Yes, that suffices," Maria said, though with a bit of a pout, added, "you sure you have no money?"
"I have a quarter," replied Vincent honestly. "But I need it to get home!"
"You only need five cents, and I have change!" Maria declared.
"My friends are riding on my quarter, too, I think," Vincent countered.
"Then you only need fifteen cents. Give me the quarter, and I shall give you fifteen cents, and keep ten for my poor father." Maria held out her hand.
The Doctor protested. "Here, here, we haven't heard any fortunes yet! Tell mine, then we'll see if it rates coins."
Maria turned to him and took up his right hand, turning it over to see his palm. She studied it quietly for a few moments, then said, "There is much mystery here! Lines written and re-written… So much hidden! You are like the night, we cannot know you! Your lines are all in the wrong places, and they swirl like a madman's. There is nothing I can tell you!" she insisted, her voice growing in drama and volume, until she roughly tossed his hand away as if it would burn her.
The Doctor's mouth was hanging open; Vincent was clapping.
"Bravo! Another stellar performance tonight!" Vincent cried. "I'll give ten cents for that!"
"Yes, very good, Maria! Quite right!" the Doctor laughed.
Vincent proffered the quarter to Maria, who returned fifteen cents in change, as promised.
"Vincent next," Rose said.
Maria took Vincent's palm out into the circle and began stroking it with her fingertips. "You are like the Sun, so passionate, that is good! But no man will have all your love; you are always having another romance. And you spend too much money."
Vincent snorted at that one. "I haven't any to spend!" she protested. "And I'm very careful of it if I do! I keep a record of every cent!"
"No, it is here," Maria said, "you are not careful, and there is a lot of money, but then it is all gone. You should listen to me, I know, it is here, in your hand!"
"Alright, alright, go on," Vincent said, amused.
"No children… Difficulties later in life, I am sorry." She patted Vincent's hand and released it.
"You didn't see anything nice?" Vincent cried.
"Oh, yes, but I am here to save your from these tragedies!" Maria declared. "You must listen!"
Rose was clasping her hands tightly now, not at all sure she wanted her palm read, after seeing Maria in action.
"Come on, Rose, I've subjected myself to this beating, now it's time for yours! Be a sport!" Vincent prodded.
Rose grudgingly held out her palm. As Maria studied it, a smile broke across her face. "Ah! You are Aphrodite herself! Deep affection. Lucky, very lucky. Long, rich life with the man you love. Such a happy marriage, yes? And a boy child! No worries."
"Really?" Rose said. "Didn't think I'd be the winner!"
Maria hesitated, as if she could not decide if she should mention something else she saw in Rose's hand.
"Go on," Rose urged her.
Maria lifted a long, slender forefinger high in the air, then brought it down gravely to a blank area of Rose's palm, where all the lines broke before taking up again on the other side. "All these things shall come to pass, yes," she intoned, "but first, tragedy, great loss. Grief and parting. Nothing can prevent this. I am sorry."
Rose gasped and yanked her hand back.
"That'll be all, Maria," the Doctor said gruffly. "Stand up... now hold out your arms... Vincent, give her the things we promised... Maria, say goodnight now please." He sent her skulking away, her skirts holding several pounds of their food and drink, a quarter tucked securely between her breasts.
Vincent could see the Doctor and Rose were both shaken, but the darkness that had suddenly manifested itself about the Doctor shocked her. Composed of a deep gloom coupled with barely-contained rage, it was clear that this storm inside him had always been there, ready to show forth through what must be merely a light veneer of happiness.
He did not look at them, instead he turned away, saying brusquely, "I'll be back," and headed astern at a near-run. He soon had disappeared behind a maze of bulkheads, where Rose and Vincent could no longer track him.