he: A Novel(17)

William C. Clark, age 46, recently arrived from Australia, died Oct. 28 at the Hotel Marion. New York, of influenza, the same day he expected to appear in a new vaudeville playlet with his wife and daughter.

Burrell Barbaretto died Oct. 27 from influenza at the home of a friend at 433 St. Nicholas Avenue. His home was in Larchmont. Mr. Barbaretto was born in Fort Wayne, Ind., 41 years ago, and made his first professional appearance in 1898 with Eddie Foy and Marie Dressier in “Hotel Topsy Turvy.” He attained considerable popularity as a juvenile and has been prominent in many Broadway productions, among others being “Jumping Jupiter” and “High Jinks.” At the time of his death he was about to join the number one “Oh Boy” company on the road, playing the leading juvenile role. Funeral services were held in Campbell’s Funeral Church Oct. 29, the body being sent from there to Fort Wayne for burial.

Margorie De Vere, chorus girl, age 19, born in England, died Oct. 26 of pneumonia at the Metropolitan Hospital, New York. She came to this country three years ago. Rose Gibson, another chorus girl, of 113 West 84th street, who had but slightly known the deceased, attended to all the funeral arrangements, after having collected the necessary amount to defray expenses.

Dr. Howe, a brother-in-law of Bart McHugh, died of influenza Oct. 26. Mr. McHugh, who also lost a sister-in-law last week, was informed while in New York Tuesday his sister was dying of the disease. He is perhaps hardest hit of any agent in vaudeville. The deaths in his family leave in his care seven children, he having promised the parents to take care of them. Four professionals whom he represented died of influenza in Philadelphia on the same day.

The Oh Boy company will be taking on an understudy, at least. There is no shortage of chorus girls to replace Margorie De Vere. Bart McHugh can expect calls from those seeking to comfort him in his grief by offering their brilliance as a means of replenishing his depleted list.

The bottle is passed around. He accepts another drink. He reads on. He pauses.

Margaret Devere died in New York Oct. 24 of pneumonia. The deceased had been in pictures.

Annette Sellos died Oct. 23 at the Lutheran Hospital, New York, from pneumonia, following influenza. The deceased was formerly in pictures.

The deceased had been in pictures.

Formerly in pictures.

He puts down the glass. He folds the paper, and passes it to one of the blackface comics.

– Where are you going?

– To bed.

– Why?

– Because I’m afraid of what might happen if I stay.

Hey, comes the reply, if you’re here, it’s already happened.

Yes, he thinks.

Yes, he despairs.

Yes, it has.





35


At the Oceana Apartments, he counts the years with Mae.

Six? Eight? Which is it?

Eight, he decides. Give or take.

How many of them were happy?

Most. Some. He knew it could not end well, not with a husband in the wings, and a son, and a common-law bed, but Mae held on to the fantasy for as long as she could. It was all Mae had.

Still, there were good times, happy years, and the conclusion, when it came, would not be entirely hateful, not at first.

And Babe?

Well, Babe had fewer happy years.





36




Babe does not like to talk about the dissolution of his first marriage. How much of what was written can be true, Babe asks, when even the spelling of his ex-wife’s name is open to dispute?

Babe and Madelyn had a dog, Babe Junior, and a Capuchin monkey, Babe the Third, in lieu of children.

It was not a marriage, Babe tells him. It was a zoo.

He is aware of something of the history, but mostly through whispers, and what he read in the gossip columns before he met Babe, when he could still take some small pleasure in another man’s miseries, if only because they diminished his own.

Babe likes women.

And women like Babe.

Madelyn knows this, or guesses it. She can smell them on Babe, their sweat mingling with her husband’s, corrupting his scent. Perhaps it might have been different had she and Babe stayed in Georgia, but probably not. Babe would have tired of her eventually: tired of her plainness, and the toll taken by the years, particularly as the gap in their ages began to tell. But fewer opportunities would have arisen in Georgia for Babe to stray. In Georgia, Babe would have been just another fat fool running a theater.

And she does love Babe, just as Babe once loved her, which makes the humiliation so much worse.

The disintegration of the marriage is a horror show, a public spectacle. A separation agreement collapses because Babe falls behind in his weekly maintenance payments of $30, and then ceases to pay anything at all. Madelyn considers filing for divorce, but early in 1920 the health of her father, Louis, deteriorates. Babe, she claims, urges her to travel to Atlanta to be with Louis at the last. Babe describes the divorce suit as a nonsense, and intimates – or so Madelyn believes – that a reconciliation may be possible.

Madelyn arrives in Atlanta in time to bury her father, and Babe sends a telegram instructing her not to return to Los Angeles.

I WILL NOT RECEIVE YOU AS MY WIFE.

But Madelyn does return, and Babe initiates a divorce suit. Babe alleges verbal abuse. Babe alleges physical assault. Babe alleges trickery into marriage through Madelyn’s false claims of pregnancy. Babe claims not yet to have reached his majority when Madelyn inveigled him into their union.