“Why where ...” Mary began, for there was nobody in the kitchen.
“Must be in the living room,” her father said, and took her arm.
“There’s more room here,” Andrew told her, as they came in. Although the night was warm, he was nursing a small fire. All the shades, Mary noticed, were drawn1 to the window sills.
“Mary,” her mother said loudly, patting a place beside her on the sofa. Mary sat beside her and took her hand. Her mother took Mary’s left hand in both of her hands, drew it into her lap, and pressed it against her thin thighs2 with all her strength.
Her aunt sat to one side of the fireplace and now her father took a chair at the other side. The Morris chair just stood there empty beside its reading lamp. Even after the fire was going nicely, Andrew squatted3 before it, making small adjustments. Nobody spoke4, and nobody looked at the Morris chair or at another person. The footsteps of a man, walking slowly, became gradually louder along the sidewalk, and passed the house, and diminished into silence; and in the silence of the universe they listened to their little fire.
Finally Andrew stood up straight from the fire and they all looked at his despairing face, and tried not to demand too much of him with their eyes. He looked at each of them in turn, and went over and bent5 deeply towards his mother.
“Let me tell you, Mama,” he said. “That way, we can all hear. I’m sorry, Mary.”
“Dear,” his mother said gratefully, and fumbled7 for his hand and patted it. “Of course,” Mary said, and gave him her place beside the “good” ear. They shifted to make room, and she sat at her mother’s deaf side. Again her mother caught her hand into her lap; with the other, she tilted8 her ear trumpet9. Joel leaned toward them, his hand behind his ear; Hannah stared into the wavering hearth10.
“He was all alone,” Andrew said, not very loudly but with the most scrupulous11 distinctness. “Nobody else was hurt, or even in the accident.”
“That’s a mercy,” his mother said. It was, they all realized; yet each of them was shocked. Andrew nodded sharply to silence her.
“So we’ll never know exactly how it happened,” he went on. “But we know enough,” he said, speaking the last word with a terrible and brutal12 bitterness.
“Mmh,” his father grunted13, nodding sharply; Hannah drew in and let out a long breath.
“I talked with the man who found him. He was the man who phoned you, Mary. He waited there for me all that time because he thought it would help if—if the man who first saw Jay was there to tell one of us all he could. He told me all he knew of course,” he said, remembering, with the feeling that he would never forget it, the awed14, calm, kind, rural face and the slow, careful, half-literate voice. “He was just as fine as a human being can be.” He felt a kind of angry gratitude15 that such a man had been there, and had been there first. Jay couldn’t have asked for anyone better, he said to himself. Nobody could.
“He said he was on his way home, about nine o’clock, coming in towards town, and he heard an auto16 coming up from behind, terrifically fast, and coming nearer and nearer, and he thought. There’s somebody that’s sure got to get some place in a bad hurry” (“He was hurrying home,” Mary said) “or else he’s crazy” (he had said “crazy drunk”).
“He wasn’t crazy,” Mary said. “He was just trying to get home (bless his heart), he was so much later than he’d said.”
Andrew, looked at her with dry, brilliant eyes and nodded.
“He’d told me not to wait supper,” she said, “but he wanted to get home before the children were asleep.”
“What is it?” her mother asked, with nervous politeness.
“Nothing important, Mama,” Andrew said gently. “I’ll explain later.” He drew a deep breath in very sharply, and felt less close to tears.
“All of a sudden, he said, he heard a perfectly17 terrifying noise, just a second or two, and then dead silence. He knew it must be whoever was in that auto and that they must be in bad trouble, so he turned around and drove back, about a quarter of a mile, he thinks, just the other side of Bell’s Bridge. He told me he almost missed it altogether because there was nothing on the road and even though he’d kind of been expecting that and driving pretty slowly, looking off both sides of the road, he almost missed it because just next the bridge on that side, the side of the road is quite a steep bank.”
“I know,” Mary whispered.
“But just as he came off the far end of the bridge—you come down at a sort of angle, you know ...”
“I know,” Mary whispered.
“Something caught in his lights and it was one of the wheels of the automobile18.” He looked across his mother and said, “Mary, it was still turning.”
“Beg pardon?” his mother said.
“It was still turning,” he told her. “The wheel he saw.”
“Mercy, Andrew,” she whispered.
“Hahh!” her husband exclaimed, almost inaudibly.
“He got out right away and hurried down there. The auto was upside down and Jay ...”
Although he did not feel that he was near weeping he found that for a moment he could not speak. Finally he said, “He was just lying there on the ground beside it, on his back, about a foot away from it. His clothes were hardly even rumpled19.”
Again he found that he could not speak. After a moment he managed to force himself to.
“The man said somehow he was sure he was—dead—the minute he saw him. He doesn’t know how. Just some special kind of stillness. He lighted matches though, of course, to try and make sure. Listened for his heartbeat and tried to feel for his pulse. He moved his auto around so he could see by the headlights. He couldn’t find anything wrong except a little cut, exactly on the point of his chin. The windshield of Jay’s car was broken and he even took a piece of it and used it like a mirror, to see if there was any breath. After that he just waited a few minutes until he heard an auto coming and stopped them and told them to get help as soon as possible.”
“Did they get a doctor?” Mary asked.
“Mary says, ‘Did they get a doctor.’ ” Andrew said to his mother. “Yes, he told them to and they did. And other people. Including—Brannick, Papa,” he said; “that blacksmith you know. It turns out he lives quite near there.”
“Huh!” said Joel.
“The doctor said the man was right,” Andrew said. “He said he must have been killed instantly. They found who he was, by papers in his pocket, and that was when he phoned you, Mary.
“He asked me if I’d please tell you how dreadful he felt to give you such a message, leaving you uncertain all this time. He just couldn’t stand to be the one to tell you the whole thing—least of all just bang like that, over a phone. He thought it ought to be somebody in the family.”
“That’s what I imagined,” Mary said.
“He was right,” Hannah said; and Joel and Mary nodded and said, “Yes.”
“By the time Walter and I got there, they’d moved him,” Andrew said. “He was at the blacksmith shop. They’d even brought in the auto. You know, they say it ran perfectly. Except for the top, and the windshield, it was hardly even damaged.”
Joel asked, “Do they have any idea what happened?”
Andrew said to his mother, “Papa says, ‘Do they have any idea how it happened?’ ” She nodded, and smiled her thanks, and tilted her trumpet nearer his mouth.
“Yes, some idea,” Andrew said. “They showed me. They found that a cotter pin had worked loose—that is, it had fallen all the way out—this cotter pin had fallen out, that held the steering20 mechanism22 together.”
“Hahh?”
“Like this, Mama—look,” he said sharply, thrusting his hands under her nose.
“Oh excuse me,” she said.
“See here,” he said; he had locked a bent knuckle23 between two bent knuckles24 of the other hand. “As if it were to hold these knuckles together—see?”
“Yes.”
“There would be a hole right through the knuckles and that’s where the cotter pin goes. It’s sort of like a very heavy hairpin25. When you have it all the way through, you open the two ends flat—spread them—like this ...” he showed her his thumb and forefinger26, together, then spread them as wide and flat as he could. “You understand?”
“No matter.”
“Let it go, son,” his father said.
“It’s all right, Mama,” Andrew said. “It’s just something that holds two parts together—in this case, his steering gear—what he guided the auto with. Th ...”
“I understand,” she said impatiently.
“Good, Mama. Well this cotter pin, that held the steering mechanism together down underneath27 the auto, where there was no chance of seeing it, had fallen out. They couldn’t find it anywhere, though they looked all over the place where it happened and went over the road for a couple of hundred yards with a fine-tooth comb. So they think it may have worked loose and fallen out quite a distance back—it could be, even miles, though probably not so far. Because they showed me,” again he put his knuckles where she could see, “even without the pin, those two parts might hang together,” he twisted them, “you might even steer21 with them. and not have the slightest suspicion there was anything wrong, if you were on fairly smooth road, or didn’t have to wrench28 the wheel, but if you hit a sharp bump or a rut or a loose rock, or had to twist the wheel very hard very suddenly, they’d come apart, and you’d have no control over anything.”
Mary put her hands over her face.
“What they think is that he must have hit a loose rock with one of the front wheels, and that gave everything a jolt29 and a terrific wrench at the same time. Because they found a rock, oh, half the size of my head, down in the ditch, very badly scraped and with tire marks on it. They showed me. They think it must have wrenched30 the wheel right out of his hands and thrown him forward very hard so that he struck his chin, just one sharp blow against the steering wheel. And that must have killed him on the spot. Because he was thrown absolutely clear of the car as it ran off the road—they showed me. I never saw anything to equal it. Do you know what happened? That auto threw him out on the ground as it careened down into that sort of flat, wide ditch, about five feet down from the road; then it went straight on up an eight-foot embankment. They showed me the marks where it went, almost to the top, and then toppled backward and fell bottom side up right beside him, without even grazing him!”
“Gracious,” Mary whispered. “Tst,” Hannah clucked.
“How are they so sure it was—instant, Andrew?” Hannah asked.
“Because if he’d been conscious they’re sure he wouldn’t have been thrown out of the auto, for one thing. He’d have grabbed the wheel, or the emergency brake, still trying to control it. There wasn’t time for that. There wasn’t any time at all. At the most there must have been just the tiniest fraction of a second when he felt the jolt and the wheel was twisted out of his hand, and he was thrown forward. The doctor says he probably never even knew what hit him—hardly even felt the impact, it was so hard and quick.”
“He may have just been unconscious,” Mary groaned31 through her hands. “Or conscious and—paralyzed; unable to speak or even seem to breathe. If only there’d been a doctor, right there, mayb ...”
Andrew reached across his mother and touched her knees. “No, Mary,” he said. “I have the doctor’s word for that. He says the only thing that could have caused death was concussion32 of the brain. He says that when that—happens to kill, it—does so instantly, or else takes days or weeks. I asked him about it very particularly because—I knew you’d want to be sure just how it was. Of course I wondered the same thing. He said it couldn’t have been even a few seconds of unconsciousness, and then death, because nothing more happened, after that one blow, that could have added to what it did. He said it’s even more sudden than electrocution. Just an enormous shock to the brain. The quickest death there is.” He returned to his mother. “I’m sorry, Mama,” he said. “Mary was saying, perhaps he was only unconscious. That maybe if the doctor had been there right on the spot, he could have been saved. I was telling her, no. Because I asked the doctor everything I could think to, about that. And he said no. He says that when a concussion of the brain—is fatal—it’s the quickest death there is.”
He looked at each of them in turn. In a light, vindictive33 voice he told them, “He says it was just a chance in a million.”
“Good God, Andrew,” his father said.
“Just that one tiny area, at just a certain angle, and just a certain sharpness of impact. If it had been even a half an inch to one side, he’d be alive this minute.”
“Shut up, Andrew,” his father said harshly; for with the last few words that Andrew spoke, a sort of dilation34 had seized Mary, so that she had almost risen from her place, seeming larger than herself, and then had collapsed35 into a shattering of tears.
“Oh Mary,” Andrew groaned, and hurried to her, while her mother took her head against her breast. “I’m so sorry. God, what possessed36 me! I must be out of my mind!” And Hannah and Joel had gotten from their chairs and stood nearby, unable to speak.
“Just—have a little mercy,” she sobbed37. “A little mercy.”
Andrew could say only, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mary,” and then he could say nothing.
“Let her cry,” Joel said quietly to his sister, and she nodded. As if anything on earth could stop her, he said to himself.
“O God, forgive me,” Mary moaned. “Forgive me! Forgive me! It’s just more than I can bear! Just more than I can bear! Forgive me!” And Joel, with his mouth fallen open, wheeled upon his sister and stared at her; and she avoided his eyes, saying to herself, No, No, and protect her, O God, protect Thy poor child and give her strength; and Andrew, his face locked in a murderer’s grimace38, continued the furious and annihilating39 words which were bursting within him to be spoken, groaned within himself, God, if You exist, come here and let me spit in Your face. Forgive her, indeed!
Then Hannah moved him aside and stooped before Mary, taking her wrists and talking earnestly into her streaming hands: “Mary, listen to me. Mary. There’s nothing to ask forgiveness for. There’s nothing to ask forgiveness for, Mary. Do you hear me? Do you hear me, Mary?” Mary nodded within her hands. “God would never ask of you not to grieve, not to cry. Do you hear? What you’re doing is absolutely natural, absolutely right. Do you hear! You wouldn’t be human if you did otherwise. Do you hear me, Mary? You’re not human to ask His forgiveness. You’re wrong. You’re terribly mistaken. Do you hear me, my dear? Do you hear me?”
While she was speaking, Mary, within her hands, now nodded and now shook her head, always in contradiction of what her aunt was saying, and now she said, “It isn’t what you think. I spoke to Him as if He had no mercy!”
“Andrew? Andrew was ju ...”
“No: to God. As if He were trying to rub it in. Torment40 me. That’s what I asked forgiveness for.”
“There, Mary,” her mother said; she could hear virtually nothing of what was said, but she could feel that the extremity41 of the crying had passed.
“Listen, Mary,” Hannah said, and she bent so close to her that she could have whispered. “Our Lord on the Cross,” she said, in a voice so low that only Mary and Andrew could hear, “do you remember?”
“My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken42 me?”
“Yes. And then did He ask forgiveness?”
“He was God. He didn’t have to.”
“He was human, too. And He didn’t ask it. Nor was it asked of Him to ask it, no more are you. And no more should you. What was it He said, instead? The very next thing He said.”
“Father, into Thy hands I commend my spirit,” she said, taking her hands from her face and looking meekly43 at her aunt.
“Into Thy hands I commend my spirit,” her aunt said.
“There, dear,” her mother said, and Mary sat upright and looked straight ahead.
“Please don’t feel sorry, Andrew,” she said. “You’re right to tell me every last bit you know. I want to know—all of it. It was just—it just overwhelmed me for a minute.”
“I shouldn’t tell you so much all in a heap.”
“No, that’s better. Than to keep hearing—horrible little new things, just when you think you’ve heard the worst and are beginning to get used to it.”
“That’s right, Poll,” her father said.
“Now just go straight on telling me. Everything there is to tell. And if I do break down, why don’t reproach yourself. Remember I asked you. But I’ll try to not. I think I’ll be all right.”
“All right, Mary.”
“Good, Poll,” her father said. They all sat down again.
“And Andrew, if you’ll get it for me, I think I’d like some more whiskey.”
“Of course I will.” He had brought the bottle in; he took her glass to the table.
“Not quite so strong as last time, please. Pretty strong, but not so strong as that.”
“This all right?”
“A little more whiskey, please.”
“Certainly.”
“That looks all right.”
“You all right, Poll?” her father asked. “Isn’t going to your head too much?”
“It isn’t going anywhere so far as I can tell.”
“Good enough.”
“I think perhaps it would be best if we didn’t—prolong the discussion any further tonight,” Catherine said, in her most genteel manner; and she patted Mary’s knee.
They looked at her with astonishment44 and suddenly Mary and then Andrew began to laugh, and then Hannah began to laugh, and Joel said, “What’s up? What’s all the hee-hawing about?”
“It’s Mama,” Andrew shouted joyfully45, and he and Hannah explained how she had suggested, in her most ladylike way, that they adjourn46 the discussion for the evening when all they were discussing was how much whiskey Mary could stand, and it was as if she meant that Mary was much too thirsty to wait out any more of it; and Joel gave a snort of amusement and then was caught into the contagion47 of this somewhat hysterical48 laughter, and they all roared, laughing their heads off, while Catherine sat there watching them, disapproving49 such levity50 at such a time, and unhappily suspecting that for some reason they were laughing at her; but in courtesy and reproof51, and an expectation of hearing the joke, smiling and lifting her trumpet. But they paid no attention to her; they scarcely seemed to know she was there. They would quiet down now and then and moan and breathe deeply, and dry their eyes; then Mary would remember, and mimic52, precisely53 the way her mother had patted her knee with her ringed hand, or Andrew would mimic her precise intonation54 as she said “prolong,” or any of the four of them would roll over silently upon the tongue of the mind some particularly ticklish55 blend of the absurdity56 and horror and cruelty and relief, or would merely glance at Catherine with her smile and her trumpet, and would suddenly begin to bubble and then to spout57 with laughter, and another would be caught into the machinery58, and then they would start all over again. Some of the time they deliberately59 strained for more laughter, or to prolong it, or to revive it if it had died; some of the time they tried just as hard to stop laughing or, having stopped, not to laugh any more. They found that on the whole they laughed even harder if they tried hard not to, so they came to favor that technique. They laughed until they were weak and their bellies60 ached. Then they were able to realize a little more clearly what a poor joke they had all been laughing at, and the very feebleness of the material and outrageous61 disproportion of their laughter started them whooping62 again; but finally they quieted down, because they had no strength for any more, and into this nervous and somewhat aborted63 silence Catherine spoke, “Well, I have never in my life been so thoroughly64 shocked and astonished,” and it began all over again.
But by now they were really worn out with laughter; moreover, images of the dead body beside the capsized automobile began to dart65 in their minds, and then to become cold, immense, and immovable; and they began fully6 to realize, as well, how shamefully66 they had treated the deaf woman.
“Oh, Mama,” Andrew and Mary cried out together, and Mary embraced her and Andrew kissed her on the forehead and on the mouth. “It was awful of us,” he said. “You’ve just got to try to forgive us. We’re all just a little bit hysterical, that’s all.”
“Better tell her, Andrew,” his father said.
“Yes, poor thing,” Hannah said; and he tried as gently as he could to explain it to her, and that they weren’t really laughing at her expense, or even really at the joke, such as it was, because it wasn’t really very funny, he must admit, but it had simply been a Godsend to have something to laugh about.
“I see,” she said (“I see, said the blindman,” Andrew said), and gave her polite, tinkling67, baffled little laugh. “But of course it wasn’t the—question of spirits that I meant. I just felt that perhaps for poor dear Mary’s sake we’d better ...”
“Of course,” Andrew shouted. “We understand, Mama. But Mary’d rather hear now. She’d already said so.”
“Yes, Mama,” Mary screamed, leaning across towards her “good” ear.
“Well in that case,” Catherine said primly68, “I think it would have been kind so to inform me.”
“I’m awfully69 sorry, Mama,” Andrew said. “We would have. We really would have. In about another minute.”
“Well,” Catherine said; “no matter.”
“Really we would, Mama,” Mary said.
“Very well,” Catherine said. “It was just a misfortune, that’s all. I know I make it—very difficult, I try not to.”
“Oh, Mama, no.”
“No, I’m not hurt. I just suggest that you ignore me now, for everybody’s convenience. Joel will tell me, later.”
“She means it,” Joel said. “She’s not hurt any more.”
“I know she does,” Andrew said. “That’s why I’m Goddamned if I’ll leave her out. Honestly, Mama,” he told her, “just let me tell you. Then we can all hear. Don’t you see?”
“Well, if you’re sure; of course I’d be most grateful. Thank you.” She bowed, smiled, and tilted her trumpet.
It required immediate70 speech. That trumpet’s like a pelican’s mouth, he thought. Toss in a fish. “I’m sorry, Mama,” he said. “I’ve got to try to collect my wits.”
“That’s perfectly all right,” his mother said.
What was I—oh. Doctor. Yes.
“I was telling you what the doctor said.”
Mary drank.
“Yes,” Catherine replied in her clear voice. “You were saying that it was only by merest chance, where the blow was struck, a chance in a million, that ...”
“Yes, Mama. It’s just unbelievable. But there it is.”
“Hyesss,” Hannah sighed.
Mary drank.
“It does—beat—all—hell,” Joel said. He thought of Thomas Hardy71. There’s a man, he thought, who knows what it’s about. (And she asks God to forgive her!) He snorted.
“What is it, Papa?” Mary asked quietly.
“Nothing,” he said, “just the way things go. As flies to wanton boys. That’s all.”
“What do you mean?”
“As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; they kill us for their sport.”
“No,” Mary said; she shook her head. “No, Papa. It’s not that way.”
He felt within him a surge of boiling acid; he contained himself. If she tries to tell me it’s God’s inscrutable mercy, he said to himself, I’ll have to leave the room. “Ignore it, Poll,” he said. “None of us knows one damned thing about it. Myself least of all. So I’ll keep my trap shut.”
“But I can’t bear to have you even think such things, Papa.”
Andrew tightened72 his lips and looked away.
“Mary,” Hannah said.
“I’m afraid that’s something none of us can ask—or change,” her father said.
“Yes, Mary,” Hannah said.
“But I can assure you of this, Poll. I have very few thoughts indeed and none of ’em are worth your minding about.”
“Is there something perhaps I should be hearing?” Catherine asked.
They were silent a moment. “Nothing, Mama,” Andrew said. “Just a digression. I’d tell you if it was important.”
“You were about to continue, with what the doctor told you.”
“Yes I was. I will. He told me a number of other things and I can—assure—everybody—that such as they are, at least they’re some kind of cold comfort.”
Mary met his eyes.
“He said that if there had to be such an accident, this was pretty certainly the best way. That with such a thing, a concussion, he might quite possibly have been left a hopeless imbecile.”
“Oh, Andrew,” Mary burst out.
“The rest of his life, and that could have been another forty years as easily as not. Or maybe only a semi-invalid, laid up just now and then, with terrific recurrent headaches, or spells of amnesia73, of feeble-mindedness. Those are the things that didn’t happen, Mary,” he told her desperately74. “I think I’d just better get them over and done with right now.”
“Yes,” she said through her hands. “Yes, you had. Go on, Andrew. Get it over.”
“He pointed75 out what would have happened if he’d stayed conscious, if he hadn’t been thrown clear of the auto. Going fast, hopelessly out of control, up that eight-foot embankment and then down. He’d have been crushed, Mary. Horribly mangled76. If he’d died it would have been slowly and agonizingly. If he’d lived, he’d have probably been a hopeless cripple.”
“Dreadful,” Catherine cried loudly.
“An idiot, or a cripple, or a paralytic,” Andrew said. “Because another thing a concussion can do, Mary, is paralyze. Incurably77. Those aren’t fates you can prefer for anyone to dying. Least of all a man like Jay, with all his vigor78, of body and mind too, his independence, his loathing79 for being laid up even one day. You remember how impossible it was to keep him quiet enough when his back was strained.”
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I do.” Her hands were still to her face and she was pressing her fingers tightly against her eyeballs.
“Instead ...” Andrew began; and he remembered his face in death and he remembered him as he lay on the table under the glare. “Instead of that, Mary, he died the quickest and most painless death there is. One instant he was fully alive. Maybe more alive than ever before for that matter, for something had suddenly gone wrong and everything in him was roused up and mad at it and ready to beat it—because you know that of Jay, Mary, probably better than anyone else on earth. He didn’t know what fear was. Danger only made him furious—and tremendously alert. It made him every inch of the man he was. And the next instant it was all over. Not even time to know it was hopeless, Mary. Not even one instant of pain, because that kind of blow is much too violent to give pain. Immediate pain. Just an instant of surprise and every faculty80 at its absolute height, and then just a tremendous blinding shock, and then nothing. You see, Mary?”
She nodded.
“I saw his face, Mary. It just looked startled, and resolute81, and mad as hell. Not one trace of fear or pain.”
“There wouldn’t have been any fear, anyway,” she said.
“I saw him—stripped—at the undertaker’s,” Andrew said. “Mary, there wasn’t a mark on his body. Just that little cut on the chin. One little bruise82 on his lower lip. Not another mark on his body. He had the most magnificent physique I’ve ever seen in a human being.”
Nobody spoke for a long while; then Andrew said, “All I can say is, when my time comes, I only hope I die half as well.”
His father nodded; Hannah closed her eyes and bowed her head. Catherine waited, patiently.
“In his strength,” Mary said; and took her hands from her face. Her eyes were still closed. “That’s how he was taken,” she said very tenderly; “in his strength. Singing, probably”—her voice broke on the word—“happy, all alone, racing83 home because he loved so to go fast and couldn’t except when he was alone, and because he didn’t want to disappoint his children. And then just as you said, Andrew. Just one moment of trouble, of something that might be danger—and was; it was death itself—and everything in his nature springing to its full height to fight it, to get it under control, not in fear. Just in bravery and nobility and anger and perfect confidence he could. It’s how he’d look Death itself in the face. It’s how he did! In his strength. Those are the words that are going to be on his gravestone, Andrew.”
That’s what they’re for, epitaphs, Joel suddenly realized. So you can feel you’ve got some control over the death, you own it, you choose a name for it. The same with wanting to know all you can about how it happened. And trying to imagine it as Mary was. Andrew, too. Any poor subterfuge’ll do; and welcome to ’em.
“Don’t you think?” Mary asked shyly; for Andrew had not replied.
“Yes I do,” he said, and Hannah said, “Yes, Mary,” and Joel nodded.
Hannah: I want to know when I die, and not just for religious reasons.
“Mama,” Mary called, drawing at her arm. Her mother turned eagerly, thankfully, with her trumpet. “I was telling Andrew,” Mary told her, “I think I know the words, the epitaph, that ought to go on Jay’s—on the headstone.” Her mother tilted her head politely. “In his strength,” Mary said. Her mother looked still more polite. “In—his—strength,” Mary said, more loudly. Christ, I don’t think I can stand this, Andrew thought. “Because that was the way it happened. Mama. Just so suddenly, without any warning, or suffering, or weakness, or illness. Just—instantly. In the very prime of his life. Do you see?”
Her mother patted her knee and took her hand. “Very appropriate, dear,” she said.
“I think so,” Mary said; she wished she had not spoken of it.
“It is, Mary,” Andrew assured her.
“Why didn’t you answer when I asked you?”
“I was just thinking about him.”
There was a silence; Catherine who had still held her trumpet hopefully extended, turned away.
“He was thirty-six,” Mary said. “Just exactly a month and a day ago.”
Nobody spoke.
“And last night—great goodness it was only last night! Just think of that. Less than twenty-four hours ago, that awful phone ringing and we sat in the kitchen together—thinking of his father! We both thought it was his father who was at death’s door. That’s why he went up there. That’s why it happened! And that miserable84 Ralph was so drunk he couldn’t even be sure of the need. He just had to go in case. Oh, it’s just beyond words!”
She finished her drink and stood up to get more.
“I’ll get it,” Andrew said quickly, and took her glass.
“Not quite so strong,” she said. “Thank you.”
“It’s like a checkerboard,” her father said.
“What is?”
“What you were saying. You think everything bears on one person’s dying, and b’God it’s another who does. One instant you see the black squares against the red and the next you see the red against the black.”
“Yes,” Mary said, somewhat in her mother’s uncertain tone.
“None of us know what we’re doing, any given moment.”
How you manage not to have religious faith, Hannah wanted to tell him, is beyond me. She held her tongue.
“A tale told by an idiot ... signifying nothing.”
“Signifying something,” Andrew said, “but we don’t know what.”
“Just as likely. Choice between rattlesnake and skunk85.”
“Jay knows what; now,” Mary said.
“I certainly won’t swear he doesn’t,” her father said.
“He does, Mary,” her aunt said.
“Of course he does,” Mary said.
Child, you’d better believe it, her aunt thought, disturbed by the “of course.”
“I wonder,” Catherine said; everyone turned towards her. “Mary’s suggestion—for—an epitaph—is very lovely and appropriate, but I wonder, whether people will quite—understand it.”
“What if they don’t?” Andrew said.
Mary leaned across her. “Yes, Mama! What if they don’t! We understand it. Jay understands it. What do we care if they don’t!”
She was surprised and somewhat hurt by the violence of this attack. “It was merely something to be considered,” she said with dignity. “After all, it will be in a public place. Many people will see it besides ourselves. I’ve always supposed, it was the business of words—to communicate— clearly.”
“Oh Mama, don’t be mad,” Mary cried. “I understand. I appreciate the suggestion. I just can’t see that in a—that in this particular case, it’s anything to be seriously concerned about. It’s Jay we’re thinking of. Not other people.”
“I see; perhaps you’re right. Praps I shouldn’t have me ...”
“We’re very glad you mentioned it, Mama. We appreciate you mentioning it. It hadn’t even occurred to me and it ought to. Only now that it does, now that you’ve told me, why, well, I just still think it’s all right as it is. That’s all.”
“Let it go, Catherine, for God’s sake let it go!” Joel was saying in a low voice; but now she nodded and became quiet.
“I hate to hurt Mama’s feelings,” Mary said, “but really!”
“It’s all right, Mary,” Andrew said.
“Let it go, Poll,” her father said.
“I am,” Mary said; she took a drink.
“We’ve got to let them know,” she said. “His mother. We’ll have to phone Ralph. Andrew, will you do that?”
“Of course I will.” He got up.
“Just tell them I’m sorry, I couldn’t come to the phone. Will you, Andrew? I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“Of course they will.”
“Just tell them—how it happened. Tell Ralph I send his mother all my love.” He nodded. “And Andrew. Be sure and ask how Jay’s father is.” He nodded. “And let them know when—why; why we don’t even know, do we? When the—what day he’ll—be—the funeral, Andrew!”
“Not for sure. I told them I’d see them in the morning about all that.”
“Well you’ll just have to tell them we’ll let them know as soon as we do. In plenty of time. To get here I mean.”
“What’s the number, Mary?”
“Number?”
“What is Ralph’s telephone number?”
“I—can’t remember. I guess I don’t know for sure. You’ll have to ask Central. It’s always Jay who called.”
“All right.”
“It’s LaFollette,” she called, as he went into the hall.
“All right, Mary.” He went out.
“And, Andrew.”
“Yes, Mary?” He put his head in.
“Talk as quietly as you can. We don’t want to wake the children.”
“Yes, Mary.”
“It’s queer I don’t know,” she told the others. “But it was always Jay who called.”
“Tell your mother what’s up,” her father advised, for she was looking inquiring. Mary leaned across her.
“Bathroom?” her mother whispered discreetly87.
“No, Mama. He’s gone to telephone Jay’s brother.”
Her mother nodded, and still extended her trumpet, but Mary had nothing to say.
“I hope he will extend all our most—heartfelt—sympathies,” her mother said.
Mary nodded conspicuously88. “I specially89 asked him to,” she lied.
After a few moments Catherine gave up, and relaxed her trumpet between her withered90 hands into her lap.
收听单词发音 |
1
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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trumpet
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| n.喇叭，喇叭声；v.吹喇叭，吹嘘 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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scrupulous
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| adj.审慎的，小心翼翼的，完全的，纯粹的 | |
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brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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auto
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| n.(=automobile)(口语)汽车 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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automobile
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| n.汽车，机动车 | |
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rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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steer
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| vt.驾驶，为…操舵；引导；vi.驾驶 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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knuckle
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| n.指节；vi.开始努力工作；屈服，认输 | |
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knuckles
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| n.（指人）指关节( knuckle的名词复数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝v.（指人）指关节( knuckle的第三人称单数 )；（指动物）膝关节，踝 | |
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hairpin
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| n.簪,束发夹，夹发针 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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jolt
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| v.（使）摇动，（使）震动，（使）颠簸 | |
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wrenched
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| v.（猛力地）扭( wrench的过去式和过去分词 )；扭伤；使感到痛苦；使悲痛 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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concussion
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| n.脑震荡；震动 | |
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vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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dilation
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| n.膨胀，扩张，扩大 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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annihilating
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| v.（彻底）消灭( annihilate的现在分词 )；使无效；废止；彻底击溃 | |
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torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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extremity
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| n.末端，尽头；尽力；终极；极度 | |
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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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43
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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adjourn
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| v.（使）休会，（使）休庭 | |
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contagion
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| n.(通过接触的疾病)传染；蔓延 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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disapproving
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| adj.不满的，反对的v.不赞成( disapprove的现在分词 ) | |
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levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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51
reproof
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| n.斥责，责备 | |
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52
mimic
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| v.模仿，戏弄；n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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intonation
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| n.语调，声调；发声 | |
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55
ticklish
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| adj.怕痒的；问题棘手的；adv.怕痒地；n.怕痒，小心处理 | |
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absurdity
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| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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57
spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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60
bellies
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| n.肚子( belly的名词复数 )；腹部；（物体的）圆形或凸起部份；腹部…形的 | |
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outrageous
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| adj.无理的，令人不能容忍的 | |
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62
whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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63
aborted
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| adj.流产的，失败的v.（使）流产( abort的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）（某事物）中止；（因故障等而）（使）（飞机、宇宙飞船、导弹等）中断飞行；（使）（飞行任务等）中途失败 | |
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64
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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shamefully
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| 可耻地； 丢脸地； 不体面地； 羞耻地 | |
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tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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primly
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| adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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72
tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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73
amnesia
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| n.健忘症，健忘 | |
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74
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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mangled
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| vt.乱砍（mangle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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incurably
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| ad.治不好地 | |
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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79
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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82
bruise
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| n.青肿，挫伤；伤痕；vt.打青；挫伤 | |
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83
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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84
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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85
skunk
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| n.臭鼬，黄鼠狼；v.使惨败，使得零分；烂醉如泥 | |
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86
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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87
discreetly
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| ad.(言行)审慎地，慎重地 | |
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conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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