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Page 4 of A Map to Paradise

3

The call from a member of the House Un-American Activities Committee lasted only ten minutes, if that. When Melanie phoned her lawyer afterward, Walt told her the interviewer had merely been fishing.

“Fishing? Fishing for what?” she’d asked.

“To see if you’d be helpful. The HUAC doesn’t have anything on you except for your close relationship with a suspected communist.”

“Of course they don’t have anything. Because there’s nothing to have.”

“Except for what you know and who you saw, Melanie. They’d like to have that.”

The interviewer hadn’t wanted to question Melanie on politics. What mattered was who she’d seen with Carson Edwards. Who were his closest friends? Who did he spend the most time with? And what did they talk about?

The conversation had been short because Melanie didn’t answer the man’s questions with specifics. She’d answered them the way Walt had told her to. With ambiguity.

“You were on a sailboat with Carson Edwards in April of this year. Who else was on the boat, Miss Cole?”

“I don’t recall. They were Carson’s friends.”

“You don’t recall?”

“I’m afraid I don’t.”

“You’re an actress who routinely memorizes hundreds of lines of script and yet you plan to tell this committee you can’t remember a few names?”

“I remember what I want to remember. I want to remember my lines in a script.”

“Who was with you and Mr. Edwards at the Trocadero the last time you were there?”

“I don’t recall.”

“And would you give that same answer under oath, Miss Cole?”

She’d shivered before answering. “I don’t recall who was there, sir.”

The man had told her she had not helped her case. If anything she’d made her predicament worse. Walt had told her the interviewer might say something like that if she refused to name names. Her heart was pounding when she hung up.

She couldn’t wait to talk to Elwood to see if she’d done the right thing. The thing he would have done had he been in her shoes.

Melanie reached for the handset of the phone and dialed the Blankenship house. After eight unanswered rings, and thinking she’d rung the wrong number, because she knew June was back inside the house, she hung up and dialed the number again.

No answer.

That made no sense. Elwood didn’t answer the phone much these days, but June did unless she was out. But she wasn’t out. It was only a little after eight in the morning.

She put the phone down and headed for the front door, calling out to Eva, who was washing up her breakfast dishes. “I’m going over to Elwood’s. They’re not answering. I want to make sure they’re okay.”

She stepped across the grass, aerating both her lawn and the Blankenship’s with the heels of her pumps. She was dressed in a champagne-hued linen skirt and emerald green silk blouse that someone had once told her matched her eyes perfectly. The blouse, which had cost her more than she’d ever paid for a simple shirt that buttoned down the front like any other shirt, had been bought during the all-too-short window when she had money.

She reached the Blankenship porch and rang the doorbell. “June?” she called out. “June, it’s Melanie. Are you all right?”

She waited a moment and then pressed the doorbell again, twice this time. “June! Are you two okay?”

Still no answer.

Melanie pounded on the door with an open palm. “June! Elwood? Are you all right? Should I call for help?” She jiggled the locked doorknob. “Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?”

Finally there was the sound of a turned lock and the door opened. June stood at an awkward angle, as if miming a Quasimodo pose.

“What do you want?!” she spat angrily.

Melanie was taken aback by this uncharacteristic greeting. In the five months Melanie had lived next door, June had only ever been poised and polite. Her wonder, however, was quickly replaced by concern.

“I phoned here. Twice! I wanted to talk to Elwood about my call. You didn’t answer. I thought something terrible happened to one or both of you. I was worried.”

A second or two slipped by before June seemed to revert to her usual neighborly civility.

“I…I couldn’t get to the phone. I’ve hurt my back and so I couldn’t…I just decided to let it ring, that’s all. I’m fine. We’re fine.”

Melanie peered at her. “What do you mean you hurt your back?”

“I was doing some gardening this morning,” June said dismissively, “and I guess I pulled something. I’m sure I’ll be fine.” The woman winced as a spasm of pain shot across her spine.

“You don’t look like you’re going to be fine.”

“It’s nothing.”

“I can tell it’s not nothing. How are you going to take care of Elwood like this?”

June’s tone turned gentle. “It’s kind of you to worry, but I’ll manage. Thanks for coming over to check.”

She started to close the door but Melanie put out a hand to stop her. “You hurt your back digging up Elwood’s roses, didn’t you? Does he know you were out there doing that?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why were you out there digging in his rose garden, June? He told me he doesn’t like anyone to touch his rosebushes but him. Not even you. Why were you doing that?”

June studied Melanie for a moment before answering. “Elwood has his challenges. You already know this. He’s not been able to go outside lately to tend to his roses. So I do it. And I do it when he’s asleep so it doesn’t alarm him.”

“But you were digging them up. Moving them around. My mother never did that with her rosebushes.”

“Well, this is California, not Kansas, so—”

“Nebraska.”

“What?”

“I’m from Nebraska.”

Another cramp appeared to leap across June’s spine and she bent forward in a rush, nearly losing her footing. Melanie reached out to steady her.

“Here, let me get you to the couch.” Melanie stepped inside and began to slowly move June toward the living room. The downstairs rooms were empty, near as she could tell. Unless Elwood was around the corner in the kitchen, perhaps.

June gritted her teeth in pain as they walked. “I can do it.”

Melanie ignored her and continued to lead her farther into the room, then helped June lower herself to the couch. Once she was situated, Melanie turned to the staircase that led to Elwood’s bedroom and office and then back to June.

“I insist you let me send Eva over to give you a hand. You can’t possibly take care of Elwood like this. You wouldn’t make it up the first step to his room.”

June gazed at the staircase, too. “He won’t want a stranger in the house. It will upset him.”

“Then let me help,” Melanie said. “I’m not a stranger. And it’s not like I have anything else to do.”

“He won’t want that, either.”

“Too bad, dammit. It’s either Eva or me.”

“El’s having a really rough time right now and I—” June began but Melanie cut her off.

“Elwood’s having a rough time? Elwood is? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Is he even coming downstairs these days? Will he be able to get his own meals? Or is he going to be up there starving himself to death while you writhe around on the couch?”

“We’ll be fine,” June sputtered.

Melanie made a move toward the staircase. “Elwood?”

June sprang off the sofa with a yelp. “Will you please just leave us alone?! Please? This is not your problem. We will manage just fine. We always have. I’d like you to go now.”

Melanie turned back to her. “You call this managing just fine? Elwood’s not been outside in years . Have I got that right? Years! How is that managing just fine? That is not normal.”

They were words Melanie had been wanting to say for weeks. June made it seem the way she and her brother-in-law lived was perfectly acceptable. Maybe the march of time had made what was not normal normal to June, simply because it was what happened every day. But it wasn’t normal. Healthy people didn’t live the way Elwood was living.

“Look,” June said carefully, as if she’d heard Melanie’s unspoken thoughts. “I understand Elwood’s condition. I do. I’ve been caring for him since you were still in bobby socks. Now, please: Go home.”

Melanie stood silent for a long moment. “So you admit he’s sick. You admit there’s something terribly wrong with him.”

“That’s not what I said. I—”

“You said I don’t understand his condition. Explain to me what I don’t understand.”

“He was in a car accident,” June said wearily.

“I know about the accident.”

“It was bad, all right? Someone got killed and he was at the wheel. He felt responsible. It…it messed with his mind. His sense of safety. Home was the only place he felt safe after that. And he doesn’t have to answer to you for the way he feels. You’re not family. We barely know you.”

Melanie was quiet for several moments as she took June’s words in.

“That may be true,” Melanie said calmly when she finally spoke. “But you need help. And, yes, I’ve only known Elwood a little while, but he’s the only friend I have right now and I care about him. You let me send Eva over until you’re better or I’m calling whoever it is that makes sure caregivers aren’t causing more harm than good. There’s got to be somebody to call. A county person or something. I’ll find out who it is and I’ll call them.”

June’s eyes flashed anger and she opened her mouth to perhaps tell Melanie to go to hell but then shut it.

The woman closed her eyes for a second to formulate better words, no doubt.

“I’m sorry,” June said a moment later. “You’re right. I do need help. No one’s ever offered and frankly Elwood wouldn’t have allowed it. And I never really needed it before. I know I do now. You may send Eva over to let me talk with her. If I feel she’s a good fit for us I will allow her to help me with the meals and housekeeping and such until my back is better. And I’ll need to know how much to pay her.”

“You don’t have to pay her anything.”

“I insist.”

“No, I am saying you really don’t have to pay her anything. I have her for six hours a day nearly every day. I don’t create many messes. She never has enough to do. You’ll be doing us both a favor, honestly. You can have her for half the time. Noon to three. Okay?”

“Who is paying for those six hours a day?”

Melanie’s eyes narrowed the slightest bit but she went on as if the question hadn’t been asked. That was none of June’s damn business. “I’ll send her over at twelve.” Melanie turned for the door.

“Is she a trustworthy person, this Eva?” June asked.

Melanie pivoted back around. “She doesn’t snoop if that’s what you mean. She does what she’s asked to do without any questions. You won’t have to lock up the silver, either. And if Elwood doesn’t want to see her, he doesn’t have to. She can set a tray outside his door.”

“And where is she from?” June asked. “I can tell she’s not from around here.”

“She’s from Poland. A DP. She lost her home and her family—I guess everything—in the war. The American government brought her over back when they were doing nice things for people instead of destroying them like they are now.”

“How? How did she lose everything?”

Melanie shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve asked her a couple times. I don’t think she likes to talk about it. Noon, then. Okay?”

“All right.”

Though the conversation seemed clearly finished, Melanie lingered on the welcome mat. She wanted so very much to talk to Elwood. She was about to ask, very kindly, if she could have just five minutes of his time, when June picked up on the reason for her hesitancy to leave.

“So. How did your call go?” June asked. “Elwood…he’ll want to know.”

So. There was to be no short visit. At least not today. “You can tell him I didn’t give them anything. What they really wanted were names and I said I couldn’t provide any.”

“What kind of names did they want?”

“The names of Carson’s friends. His acquaintances. Anyone I had ever seen with Carson even if I had never heard them speak about anything political. But I promised Carson I wouldn’t do that to him. Or his friends. So I didn’t.”

“That’s very generous of you. Considering what it’s costing you.”

“Those men in Washington don’t control the blacklist; Hollywood does.”

“But aren’t the studios paying attention to who is eager to clear their name and who isn’t? That’s what I’ve read in the papers.”

Melanie bristled. “I’ve been given no promise that spouting out names will clear me. Besides. If I go back on my promise, I’ll have nothing. Absolutely nothing, and Carson would never forgive me. I’d have to go crawling back to Omaha. I’m not doing that. This hell I’m in can’t last forever. It can’t. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

In the next second Melanie recalled the words Elwood had written to her earlier that morning: “You must live with what you decide…”

“Were those men happy with you telling them nothing?” June asked, intruding into Melanie’s thoughts.

“No.”

June didn’t say it, but they both knew this meant nothing was going to change for Melanie. Not presently, anyway. She’d remain on the blacklist. Perhaps for a long time.