The Grifters

many things that were worse. Almost everything was relatively good. Eating was better than starving, living better than dying.

Even a simulated friendliness was better than none at all. People had to care-at least a little-to pretend. Her own kith and kind, immigrants like herself, had not always done that.

She had come to the United States under the auspices of relatives, an aunt and uncle who had fled Austria before the anschluss. Now well-to-do, they had taken her into their home and given her probationary status as a daughter. But with certain unstated stipulations: that she become one with them, that she live as they lived, without regard to how she had lived before. And Carol could not do that.'

The ritual dining, the numerous sets of dishes, each to be used only for a certain kind of food, were almost offensive to her. So much waste in a world filled with want! Contrariwise, it seem foolish to fast in the midst of abundance.

She was repelled by the bearded, pink-mouthed Shiddem for all his Judaic learning. To her he seemed a parasite, who should be forced to work as others did. She was shocked to find stupidity masquerading as pride-or what she thought of as stupidity: the imperviousness to a new language, and a new and possibly better way of life. All in all she was frightened by the conscientious apartness, sensing in it the seeds of tragedy.

Because they were good to her, or meant to be, she tried to be as they were. She was even willing to believe that they were right and that she was wrong. But mere trying, willingness, was not enough for them. They accused her of abandoning her faith, one that she could never remember knowing. Their tyranny, in its own way, seemed almost as bad as that she had fled from, and at last, she had had to flee from them.

Life outside the refugee world wasn't easy. The alternative to it often seemed to be a world with quite as many prejudices as the one she had left. But it was not always that way. There were some people who were completely indifferent to what she had been; that is, they were indifferent in a critical sense. They-the rare few: Mrs. Dillon was their best example-accepted her for what she was now. And-

She saw Mrs. Dillon approaching, moving past the other tables with her easy imperiousness. Hastily, Carol set down her teacup and came to her feet.

'Please sit down, Mrs. Dillon. I will get you some tea, yes? Some coffee? Something to eat-'

'Nothing,' Lilly smiled, waving her back to her chair. 'I won't be staying at the hospital this evening, and I wanted to talk to you before I left.'

'There is something wrong? I-I have done-'

'No, you're doing just fine. Everything's fine,' Lilly assured her. 'Get yourself some more tea, if you like. There's no hurry.'

'I'd better not.' Carol shook her head. 'It is almost six, and the other nurse-'

'I'm paying the other nurse, too,' Lilly said flatly. 'She's working for me, not the hospital. If she doesn't want to work a little overtime for extra pay, she can quit.'

Carol nodded and murmured meekly. This was a side of Mrs. Dillon she had never seen before. Lilly's smile returned.

'Now, just relax and rest easy, Carol. I like your work. I like you. I hope you like me, too-my son and I.'

'Oh, I do, very much! You have been very nice to me.'

'Why is it that you don't have a regular job? That you're just working extra?'

'Well…' Carol hesitated over her answer. 'The hospital, almost every hospital, it graduates its own nurses, and I am not such a graduate. Then, the regular jobs, like in the doctors' offices, they usually want skills that I do not have. Often bookkeeping and shorthand, and- -'

'I understand. How do you make out on this special duty work? All right?'

'Well, I do not always make so much,' Carol said seriously. 'It depends on how much work I can get, and that is not always a great deal. And, of course, there are the fees to the nurses' registry. But… – well, it is enough, whatever. When! know more and when I better understand English-'

'Yeah, sure. How old are you, Carol?'

'Twenty-seven.'

'Oh?' Lilly was surprised. 'I wouldn't have thought you were that old.'

'I feel much older, sometimes. Like I had lived forever. But, yes, I am twenty- seven.'

'Well, no matter. Any boy friends? Going steady with anyone? No?' Lilly thought that was strange too. 'Now, a girl like you must have had plenty of opportunities.'

Carol shook her head, her upturned features humorously solemn. She lived in a furnished room, she pointed out, and she could not properly receive young men in it. Then, since it was necessary to work whenever she could, and since she worked irregular hours, it was not possible to plan ahead nor to be sure of keeping a social engagement if any were made.

'Also,' she concluded, blushing, 'also, the young men try to do certain things. They-often, I am greatly embarrassed.'

Lilly nodded gently, feeling a strange tenderness toward the girl. Here was something, someone, absolutely real and the reality was all to the good. Perhaps, under different circumstances, she might have turned out as wholesome and honest-and real-as Carol was. But-she shook herself mentally-to hell with that noise.

She was what she was, and thus Roy had become what he was. And there was nothing to be done about her, assuming that she wanted anything done, but perhaps it wasn't too late to –

'You're probably wondering why I was so nosy. Inquisitive, I mean,' Lilly said. 'Well, it's like this. I don't want to jinx my son by saying that he's going to be all right, but-'

'Oh, I'm sure he will be, Mrs. Dillon! I-'

'Don't say it,' Lilly said sharply, knocking on the wooden top of the table. 'It might bring bad luck. Let's just say that when and if he is able to leave the hospital, I'd like you to go on looking after him for a while. At my apartment, I mean. Do you think you'd like that?'

Carol nodded eagerly, her eyes shining. She'd already had more than two weeks of steady employment with Mrs. Dillon, more than she'd ever had before. What a wonderful thing it would be to go on working for her and her nice son, indefinitely.

'Well, that's fine, then,' Lilly said. 'It's all settled. Now, I've got to run along, but- Yes?'

'I was just wondering…' Carol hesitated. 'I was wondering if-if Mr. Dillon would want me. He is always very kind, but…' She hesitated again, not knowing how to say what she meant without sounding impolite. Lilly said it for her.

'You mean Roy resents me. He's against anything I do simply because I do it.'

'Oh, no. I did not mean that. Not exactly, anyway. I was just…'

'Well, it's close enough,' Lilly smiled, trying to make her voice light. 'But don't worry about it, dear. You're working for me not him. Anything! do for him is for his own good, so it doesn't matter if he's a little resentful at first.'

Carol nodded, a trifle dubiously. Lilly arose from her chair, and began drawing on her gloves.

'We'll just keep this to ourselves for the time being,' she said. 'It's just possible that Roy will suggest it himself.'

'Whatever you say,' Carol murmured.

They walked to the door of the cafeteria together. Then Lilly headed toward the lobby entrance, and Carol hurried away toward her patient's room.

The other nurse left as soon as they had checked the chart together. Roy gave Carol a weakly lazy grin, and told her she looked very bad.