Benediction (Plainsong #3)(44)

He studied them for a while. I was thinking about that old spinster lady again after you left the last time. She come to my mind. When I was laying here. What’s her name?

Miss Sprague, Rudy said. The old lady with the freezer, you’re talking about.

Yes, her.

Did you change your mind? You want us to repossess it?

No. But she’s all alone, isn’t she.

There’s nobody over there except her, that I know of. Never has been. So far as anybody else knows either.

I want you boys to help her.

How do you mean?

I don’t know. But I want you to find some kind of help for her. Somebody to look in on her.

You mean hire somebody.

Something like that. You figure it out. Lorraine can help you. I don’t want her left alone over there in that house of hers.

Yes, we can do that, Lorraine said.

You can pay for it out of the store. Get some kind of caretaker for her. Some older woman or somebody. But it needs to be taken care of.

We will, Rudy said.

And another thing. I was remembering that fellow Floyd down there in Oklahoma.

About his story, you mean?

The one that drowned, Dad said. That’s not funny no more. The man went over the side of that boat into the lake and didn’t come up. He was alive, then he died and his life has to mean more than just a story some guy that comes up here from Texas tells us that’s on some combine crew.

You want us to do something there too? Rudy said. I don’t see what we can do about that.

No. I’m just saying. Telling you what I’ve been thinking about while I’m laying here. It’s not funny to me no more. Not this morning, anyway.

If that’s how you feel, Bob said.

That’s how I feel.

Then we don’t have to mention it again.

Dad lifted one hand from the bedsheet and inspected it front and back and let it fall back down. I don’t know if I’m going to see you fellows again, he said. I got a idea this might be it. But I want both of you to know how much I appreciate all the days and years we’ve been together at the store. I trusted you. I believed in you. You two fellows—you’ve been more to me than somebody I just hired. You were friends to me. I want you to know that. Dad’s eyes welled up as he was talking.

Thank you, Dad, Bob said. We feel the same way.

Well, I wanted you to know. I wanted to have it said out.

The two men were teary eyed now too. They sat side by side, tall and short, on the two hard wooden chairs in the hot room, their hands in their laps.

So, Dad said. All right. Lorraine’s going to be the store manager. Like we talked about. For a while anyhow. And you two fellows are going to still be assistant managers together.

They didn’t say anything.

You understand me, don’t you.

We understood this was coming from what you was saying before, yes sir.

And I want you to get along with each other. Put aside any bad feelings.

We don’t have no bad feelings, Rudy said.

Good. Then I’m going to say one more thing. I want you to pay yourselves a ten-thousand-dollar bonus, each one of you.

What’s this, Dad? We don’t expect nothing like that.

Now don’t interrupt me. You don’t need to say nothing about it. I’ve been laying here thinking and that’s what I want. He paused to study them. Now I’m wore out. Come over here, if you would.

The two men looked at him.

Come over here, please. I’m asking you to come closer. They slowly rose from the chairs and stepped up beside the bed. Dad reached and shook Rudy’s hand and then Bob’s. I thank you for all these years, he said, for what you done for me. Good-bye, you fellows.

Good-bye, Dad. We’ll be thinking of you.

They glanced across the bed at Lorraine, sitting on her chair in the corner crying quietly. They went out to the living room and stood looking toward the kitchen. Mary noticed them and came out.

Would you let us know if we can do anything? Rudy said sadly.

Was he able to talk a little?

Yes. He was able to talk a little. He said some things to us. We’re sure going to miss him. That’s all there is to it.



In the bedroom Lorraine moved onto the bed and lay beside Dad.

Are you all right, Daddy?

Yeah, I am.

She took his hand.

That went pretty good, don’t you think it did? he said.

Yes. You know how much they think of you.

Well, I think a lot of them too. But they never say much, do they. They never say much to me.

You don’t let people, Daddy. You never have.

You think that’s what it is?

Yes, I do.

Well. I don’t know about that. I couldn’t say.





28


IN THE DAYS FOLLOWING the sermon Lyle began to wander in the town. After supper with his wife and son, he’d put on a jacket and cap and begin to walk—after the sun was down. It was usually nine or ten before he began.

He stayed away from the center of Holt and the bright streetlights. When it happened that he had to cross Main, he waited until the street was empty and then he crossed and went on walking up and down the dark sidewalks and passed over the tracks to the north side where the houses were small and meager, with empty weed-filled lots. At the end of town, he looked out at the starlit windblown fields, and then turned back into the neighborhoods.