The Passenger (The Passenger, #1)(56)

She shook her head. They went through ever room. You’re welcome to look. You know that.

All right.

What papers? said Royal.

Alice’s papers.

Alice is dead.

We know she’s dead, Royal. She’s been dead ten years.

Ten years, said Royal. Dont seem possible. Cold and dead.

Suddenly he began to cry. Western looked at his grandmother. She got up from the table and went into the kitchen.

Later when Royal had gone into the livingroom Western and his grandmother sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee. I’m glad you came, Bobby, she said. I just wish you’d stay longer.

I know. But I have to go.

Do you think this family has a curse on it?

Western looked up. A curse?

Yes.

Do you?

Sometimes.

What, like the sins of the fathers?

She smiled sadly. I dont know. Do you believe in God, Bobby?

I dont know, Granellen. You asked me that before. I told you. I dont know anything. The best I can say is that I think he and I have pretty much the same opinions. On my better days anyway.

Well. I hope that’s true. I guess that’s the other thing I’d blame your father for. And I know it’s not up to me to go around placing blame.

What is? The other thing.

Just his effect on Eleanor. Trying to confuse her. He’d make her cry. Making her doubt her faith I guess you’d say.

Is that what they divorced over?

I dont know. Indirectly, I suppose.

What would directly be?

I think you know.

He had trouble staying home.

Well.

You think they were poorly matched.

I do. Of course she was awfully smart herself.

Why do you think they got married?

I dont know, Bobby. It was wartime. I think a lot of young people got married that might of waited otherwise. He liked pretty women. And she was the prettiest.

It didnt serve her well though, did it?

It seldom does.

Do you think that’s true?

I do. Beauty makes promises that beauty cant keep. I’ve seen it too many times. Twice in this house.

She poured more coffee.

I miss the stove, Western said.

I know. You couldnt get nobody to cut wood for it.

Can I ask you something?

Of course you can, Bobby.

What is it that you regret?

Well. I think you know what I regret.

I mean things you might have done differently. Or not done. That kind of regret.

His grandmother turned and looked out the window across the darkening fields, her hand to her mouth. I dont know, Honey. Not all that much. I think people regret what they didnt do more than what they did. I think everbody has things they failed to do. You cant see what is coming, Bobby. And if you could it is no guarantee you’d make the right choice even then. I believe in God’s design. I’ve had dark hours and I’ve had dark doubts in those hours. But that was never one of them.

She’d finished her coffee and she pushed the cup away. She folded her hands and looked at Western.

I didnt mean to make you feel bad, he said.

You didnt, Bobby.

Do you want to look at some pictures?

Oh Bobby.

What?

I thought I told you.

Told me what?

They took them.

They took the photo albums?

Yes. I thought I told you.

No.

I’m sorry, Honey.

It’s all right.

I’m sorry.

They took everything in the press?

Yes. They emptied out the drawers and left the drawers settin in the floor.

So they took Grandaddy’s hogrifle and the shotguns. My mandolin. The kinds of things that thieves might take and pawn. And then they took all the family documents. You didnt think that was peculiar?

I did think so. Nothin ever showed up in the pawnshops. They checked all the ones over in Knoxville.

They werent thieves, Granellen. That stuff wasnt going to the pawnshop. It’s at the bottom of the lake. Probably off the Highway 33 bridge along with God knows what else.

What are you saying, Bobby?

Nothing. It’s all right.

No, what are you saying?

Nothing.

It has to do with your father. Doesnt it?

I dont know. I really dont. I shouldnt have said anything.

His grandmother put the flat of her palm on the table as if she were about to get up but she didnt. She looked more than tired.

Are you all right?

I’m all right, Bobby. Dont pay no attention to me. I get lonely sometimes is all. She turned and looked at him. Do you ever?

He wanted to tell her that he knew no other state of being. Sometimes, he said.

His grandmother was born in eighteen ninety-seven. McKinley was president and the country was at war with Spain. There was no electricity, no telephone, no radio, no television, no cars, no planes. No heat, no airconditioning. In most of the world no running water and no toilets. Life had changed little since the middle ages. He watched her. She had turned away. She shook her head, he didnt know what it meant. But she turned and looked at him again. Do we have cause to be afraid, Bobby?

No. You dont.

Do you?

He left at daybreak without saying goodbye. Standing briefly at the window looking out at the gray dawn over the countryside. The creek shrouded in mist, the pale shapes of the cottonwoods. Frost on the fields. Nothing moving. He slung one bag over his shoulder and picked up the other and went down the steps.