OCR Text |
Show BROADWAY AND MAirTsTRETT I Real Roses in the Cheeks You Call That a Handicap? By BILLY ROSE 1 When Eleanor and I first moved up to Mt. Klsco, tome of oui neighbors dropped by to pay their respects, but I didn't encourag these visits. The landed gentry of Westchester are nice enough folk, but they don't talk my lingo. Besides, I see no point In cultivating culti-vating people who think it's smart to chase a fox. ' But a little down the road from us live a couple I cultivate ai oftei as they'll have me. Their names are Fred and Jane Newell. I met then through Eleanor two years ago. and I'll never forget the first night w had dinner at their house, Jane answered the doorbell. She was pretty all over, and I liked her right away. "Excuse the peasant skirt," she said. "I have a baby penciled in for the fall." Fred was In the living room listening to the radio. He had the t if jf VST j Billy Rose tweedy look of the good guy in the women's magazine stories. We talked for a couple of minutes before I realized he was blind. He told me he was a writer, and answered my unspoken question by explaining he dictated his stuff to his wife. It was a fine dinner and a fine evening. Jane carried her child as If baby-having were some kind of party. Around eleven o'clock, Fred said to Jane, "Maybe the Roses would like ice cream." "Maybe they would," said Jane, "but we haven't any. I'll drive down to the village and get some." "I'll go with you," I said, "just to make sure you don't forget chocolate." ON THE WAY to the Ice-cream parlor I said, "Tell me something. What makes you kids act as if you had a gold mine in the cellar?" Jane smiled. "I don't know. I guess we've been pretty lucky." "Luckyl" I said, and then stopped, embarrassed. "It's all right," said Jane. "Of course, it would be nicer if Fred could see, but neither of us thinks tbaft very important." "How'd it happen?" "War stuff," said Jane. "Fra ments of a land mine on Okinawa We weren't married then. Fred wit moved to a hospital in San Fran Cisco. The first letters he sent mi weren't In his own handwriting. H explained that he was dictating tc a nurse because he'd been wounded in the right hand. "At the time, he still had somi hope that a special operation might restore his sight. He didn't want to tell me about his eyes until ha knew for sure. "WELL, THE OPERATION was complete miss-out. When Fred knew he'd never see again, the darn fool wrote me that I was free to marr anybody I liked. Of course, I hopped a plane to San Francisco and got my fella." "Atta girl," I said. "Now teU m to shut my face If I'm out of line, but doesn't it ever bother you 1 mean, making this sacrifice?" "Sacrifice, my foot," said Jane softly. "Look at it this way. I'm two years away from 30. In 10 years, I'll be two away from 40. When Fred went off to war, I was 23. Real roses in cheeks. Probably the best I ever looked in my life. "From here In, no matter wh. happens to me wrinkles, dry skin, gray hairs, babies Fred will always al-ways see me as the fresh-faced kid "he kissed goodbye at Perm station In '42. For the guy I'm crazy about, I'll be 23 the rest of my life. Is that bad?" "No," I said. "That isn't bad at all." |