Saint Mazie: A Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

whole world’s my sweetheart.

Mazie’s Diary, January 18, 1918
    Now she’s sharp and angry. She told Jeanie the dancing was done. No more classes, she said. And she told me I’d be on the streets if I came home late one more time. A month ago she didn’t want to lose me, now she’ll throw me on the streets?
    I said: I know the streets. I’ve been there before.
    She said: You can’t take those dresses of yours on the street.
    I said: I don’t need none of it.
    She said: You’d be nowhere without me.
    Jeanie and I looked at Louis but there was nothing, no help. His heart is broken too, I think. His giant heart, exploded.

Mazie’s Diary, January 21, 1918
    Took a few turns at the snuffbox of some rich man slumming downtown tonight. I can’t say I didn’t like it. Slapped his hand away from my tit though—he didn’t earn nothing just by sharing. He’s no hero like the sailors. Just a spoiled rich prick.
    Everything started tumbling around me. I left when the fistfights started. I couldn’t help but laugh even as I lifted my skirts over the drunks bloody on the floor. That was not the right bar for a girl like me, though I couldn’t say it was the wrong one either.
    But then I was walking down the streets and the moon was judging me, it was staring at me and judging me, I swear it was. I stood on the corner, and I let it judge me. I’ll judge you back, too, moon. What do you know? Stupid moon. Horrible moon.
    I came home and got down on my hands and my knees in front of Rosie, still on the couch. She put her hands in my hair.
    She said: Why can’t I have a baby?
    I said: I don’t know.
    She said: Why won’t you be a good girl?
    I said: I don’t know.
    We stayed like that until I came in here to write this down. She clawed at my neck when I walked away.
    It’s her pain, not mine.

Mazie’s Diary, January 22, 1918
    I was gone all day and all night. No candy shop, no track. Just the streets and the bars and the men and the women and the whiskey and the beer and the smokes and the snuff. Nothing but these things, and then more of these things, and then bed.

Mazie’s Diary, January 24, 1918
    When I woke up this afternoon I went into the kitchen and Rosie was sitting at the table with Louis. Maybe the fever broke, I was thinking. I looked in her eyes and they seemed clear. But my eyes were hazy, so what did I know? I couldn’t trust what I saw for nothing.
    She sounded clear though.
    She said: I’ve tried everything with you. Louis, you know I’m right.
    He didn’t want no part of it, I thought, but he nodded. He was pressing his fork against his eggs.
    She said: Something’s gotta change. You know I’m right too, Mazie.
    I felt bad about interrupting his eggs. Louis loves his eggs.
    He said: Here’s the thing.
    At last! The big man speaks.
    He said: It’s a favor more than anything else.
    Favor’s a word I can’t refuse when it comes to Louis, and he knows it. He’s taken care of us forever and he didn’t have to. He waited to say that word. He waited till he couldn’t wait anymore. Kept the favor in his pocket. Bet he’s got more than a few in there.
    He said: Rosie’s been sick and I’ve been needing help down at the theater.
    He put down his fork and then he took Rosie’s hand. Or did she take his? I couldn’t tell. They were propping each other up now. That’s what it meant. That’s how that works when you’re together with someone. I get it, even if I don’t have it.
    He told me he wanted me to work the ticket booth, that it was true that the hours were long but it was important work to him. He had put a lot of money into the theater.
    He said: You’re good with numbers. There’s money coming in and out all day. And I need someone I can trust there. There’s sticky fingers all over this city, you know that.
    He told me it would just be for a little while and when I asked how long he told me he didn’t know, and I don’t think he was lying, it wasn’t exactly a lie.
    I said: