insecure our possession of that ring actually was. Apparently, had M. Gordet been a true gentleman, she might well have given it to him.
On the one hand, I couldn’t imagine Mother giving away her ring—really our ring, now that it represented our joint security—to someone just because he was a gentleman. On the other hand, I well knew how many incongruities and contradictions to my vision of the world were presented by life all the time. And, perhaps, what Mother was really telling me was to be on my guard against the eventuality that she might meet a true gentleman and be inclined to give those twin diamonds away.
“Tomorrow we’re moving out of this pension ,” Mother went on. She had gotten down from the bed and was packing our suitcases again.
“M. . . M. . . M. . . Moving?. . . ” And I stopped before finishing, because I was, again, aware that whatever it was that the senhora had done for my stutter, had just come undone.
“Yes,” Mother went on. “It seems that this pension is where M. Gordet likes to bring his lady friends.”
It was clear that this was not a time for us to be moving, since I, evidently, needed another session with the senhora. “W. . . W. . . Why is that a r. . . reason to m. . . m. . . move?” I asked.
Mother put her fingers to her forehead, “Will you please stop that stuttering!” she said.
I knew that she knew that I could not do that. What she was saying now was out of exasperation. She was upset by whatever it was that M. Gordet had done, and, when she was upset by something, my stuttering disturbed her more. . . just the way that my stuttering got worse when I was upset.
Mother must have realized something of the sort as well, because she sucked in her lips and raised her hand in a gesture that seemed to imply an apology.
With a great effort, the kind of effort that I hadn’t needed when speaking to the senhora, I repeated my question, “S. . . o w. . . hy is th. . . at a r. . . eason to m. . . ove?”
“It just is,” Mother said.
I knew that Mother didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “W. . . here w. . . ill w. . . e m. . . ove t. . . o?” I asked. There was more than just curiosity to that question. It just might, I hoped, make Mother realize that we didn’t know any other places. “We d. . . on’t kn. . . ow anyone else i. . . in R. . . io.”
“I’ll find us another pension .”
That remained to be seen.
CHAPTER III
I had forgotten about Mr. and Mrs. K. I had seen Mother exchange addresses with Mr. K. before disembarking, so now it was him that she called the next morning, and, that same afternoon, we were unpacking again, this time at the Kosiewiczes’ hotel, in a suite right above theirs.
The hotel was closer to the center of town than the pension had been. It was a totally urban setting, and there were stores and apartment buildings across the street. We were on the fourth floor and had a bedroom and a living room with a cot, meaning that I would have my own bed. We also had a telephone on a little table next to my cot.
On the bad side, however, was the fact that we were in the same hotel with Mr. K, whom I didn’t trust to begin with, and had even more concern about now, in view of Mother’s confession of the previous day. My concern increased when he telephoned Mother that same afternoon and then came up from their suite on the floor below to talk with her.
I had hoped that Mrs. Irena would come with him, but she didn’t. He did, however, bring a briefcase from which he produced a diamond necklace and some earrings to show to Mother. They sat together on my cot, and he let Mother hold them. She turned them one way then another in the light, as I had seen people do with jewelry. I could tell from her expression that she liked them.
They spoke quietly, so that I wouldn’t hear, but, if he was hoping to sell them to her, he was barking up the wrong tree because we had no money. Of course, it could have been a trick. I had heard of
On the one hand, I couldn’t imagine Mother giving away her ring—really our ring, now that it represented our joint security—to someone just because he was a gentleman. On the other hand, I well knew how many incongruities and contradictions to my vision of the world were presented by life all the time. And, perhaps, what Mother was really telling me was to be on my guard against the eventuality that she might meet a true gentleman and be inclined to give those twin diamonds away.
“Tomorrow we’re moving out of this pension ,” Mother went on. She had gotten down from the bed and was packing our suitcases again.
“M. . . M. . . M. . . Moving?. . . ” And I stopped before finishing, because I was, again, aware that whatever it was that the senhora had done for my stutter, had just come undone.
“Yes,” Mother went on. “It seems that this pension is where M. Gordet likes to bring his lady friends.”
It was clear that this was not a time for us to be moving, since I, evidently, needed another session with the senhora. “W. . . W. . . Why is that a r. . . reason to m. . . m. . . move?” I asked.
Mother put her fingers to her forehead, “Will you please stop that stuttering!” she said.
I knew that she knew that I could not do that. What she was saying now was out of exasperation. She was upset by whatever it was that M. Gordet had done, and, when she was upset by something, my stuttering disturbed her more. . . just the way that my stuttering got worse when I was upset.
Mother must have realized something of the sort as well, because she sucked in her lips and raised her hand in a gesture that seemed to imply an apology.
With a great effort, the kind of effort that I hadn’t needed when speaking to the senhora, I repeated my question, “S. . . o w. . . hy is th. . . at a r. . . eason to m. . . ove?”
“It just is,” Mother said.
I knew that Mother didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “W. . . here w. . . ill w. . . e m. . . ove t. . . o?” I asked. There was more than just curiosity to that question. It just might, I hoped, make Mother realize that we didn’t know any other places. “We d. . . on’t kn. . . ow anyone else i. . . in R. . . io.”
“I’ll find us another pension .”
That remained to be seen.
CHAPTER III
I had forgotten about Mr. and Mrs. K. I had seen Mother exchange addresses with Mr. K. before disembarking, so now it was him that she called the next morning, and, that same afternoon, we were unpacking again, this time at the Kosiewiczes’ hotel, in a suite right above theirs.
The hotel was closer to the center of town than the pension had been. It was a totally urban setting, and there were stores and apartment buildings across the street. We were on the fourth floor and had a bedroom and a living room with a cot, meaning that I would have my own bed. We also had a telephone on a little table next to my cot.
On the bad side, however, was the fact that we were in the same hotel with Mr. K, whom I didn’t trust to begin with, and had even more concern about now, in view of Mother’s confession of the previous day. My concern increased when he telephoned Mother that same afternoon and then came up from their suite on the floor below to talk with her.
I had hoped that Mrs. Irena would come with him, but she didn’t. He did, however, bring a briefcase from which he produced a diamond necklace and some earrings to show to Mother. They sat together on my cot, and he let Mother hold them. She turned them one way then another in the light, as I had seen people do with jewelry. I could tell from her expression that she liked them.
They spoke quietly, so that I wouldn’t hear, but, if he was hoping to sell them to her, he was barking up the wrong tree because we had no money. Of course, it could have been a trick. I had heard of
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