A Death In The Family - Agee James - Страница 28
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"Goodness, do!" said Mary.
"Let me fix us a good strong toddy," Hannah said. "It'll help you to sleep."
"I don't want to sleep," Mary said; she sipped at her whiskey and took plenty of the water. "I've got to learn how it happened."
"Aunt Hannah," Andrew asked quietly, motioning towards the bottle.
"Please."
While he broke ice and brought glasses and a pitcher of water, none of them spoke; Mary sat in a distorted kind of helplessness at once meek and curiously sullen, waiting. Months later, seeing a horse which had fallen in the street, Andrew was to remember her; and he was to remember it wasn't drunkenness, either. It was just the flat of the hand of Death.
"Let me pour my own," Mary said. "Because," she added with deliberation while she poured, "I want it just as strong as I can stand it." She tasted the dark drink, added a little more whiskey, tasted again, and put the bottle aside. Hannah watched her with acute concern, thinking, if she gets drunk tonight, and if her mother sees her drunk, she'll half die of shame, and thinking, nonsense. It's the most sensible thing she could do.
"Drink it very slowly, Mary," Andrew said gently. "You aren't used to it."
"I'll take care," Mary said.
"It's just the thing for shock," Hannah said.
Andrew poured two small straight drinks and gave one to his aunt; they drank them off quickly and took water, and he prepared two pale highballs.
"Now, Andrew, I want to hear all about it," Mary said.
He looked at Hannah.
"Mary," he said. "Mama and Papa'll be here any minute. You'd just have to hear it all over again. I'll tell you, of course, if you prefer, right away but-could you wait?"
But even as he was speaking she was nodding, and Hannah was saying, "Yes, child," as all three thought of the confusions and repetitions which were, at best, inevitable. Now after a moment Mary said, "Anyway, you say he didn't have to suffer. Instantly, you said."
He nodded, and said, "Mary, I saw him-at Roberts'. There was just one mark on his body."
She looked at him. "His head."
"Right at the exact point of the chin, a small bruise. A cut so small-they can close it with one stitch. And a little blue bruise on his lower lip. It wasn't even swollen."
"That's all," she said.
"All." Hannah said.
"That's all," Andrew said. "The doctor said it was concussion of the brain. It was instantaneous."
She was silent; he felt that she must be doubting it. Christ, he thought furiously, at least she could be spared that!
"He can't have suffered, Mary, not even for a fraction of a second. Mary, I saw his face. There wasn't a glimmer of pain in it. Only-a kind of surprise. Startled."
Still she said nothing. I've got to make her sure of it, he thought. How in heaven's name can I make it clearer? If necessary, I'll get hold of the doctor and make him tell her hims…
"He never knew he was dying," she said. "Not a minute, not one moment, to know, 'my life is ending.' "
Hannah put a quick hand to her shoulder; Andrew dropped to his knees before her; took her hands and said, most earnestly, "Mary, in God's name be thankful if he didn't! That's a hideous thing for a man in the prime of life to have to know. He wasn't a Christian, you know," he blurted it fiercely. "He didn't have to make his peace with God. He was a man, with a wife and two children, and I'd say that sparing him that horrible knowledge was the one thing we can thank God for!" And he added, in a desperate voice, "I'm so terribly sorry I said that, Mary!"
But Hannah, who had been gently saying, "He's right, Mary, he's right, be thankful for that," now told him quietly, "It's all right, Andrew"; and Mary, whose eyes fixed upon his, had shown increasing shock and terror, now said tenderly, "Don't mind, dear. Don't be sorry. I understand. You're right."
"That venomous thing I said about Christians," Andrew said after a moment. "I can never forgive myself, Mary."
"Don't grieve over it, Andrew. Don't. Please. Look at me, please." He looked at her. "It's true I was thinking as I was bound to as a Christian, but I was forgetting we're human, and you set me right and I'm thankful. You're right. Jay wasn't-a religious man, in that sense, and to realize could have only been-as you said for him. Probably as much so, even if he were religious." She looked at him quietly. "So just please know I'm not hurt or angry. I needed to realize what you told me and I thank God for it."
There was a noise on the porch; Andrew got from his knees and kissed his sister on the forehead. "Don't be sorry," she said. He looked at her, tightened his lips, and hurried to the door.
"Papa," he said, and stood aside to let him past. His mother fumbled for his arm, and gripped it hard. He put his hand gently across her shoulders and said, next her ear, "They're back in the kitchen"; she followed her husband. "Come in, Walter."
"Oh no. Thank you," Walter Starr said. "These are family matters. But if there's…"
Andrew took him by the arm. "Come in a minute, anyway," he said. "I know Mary'll want to thank you."
"Well now…" Andrew led him in.
"Papa," Mary said, and got up and kissed him. He turned with her towards her mother. "Mama?" she said in a pinched, almost crying voice, and they embraced. "There, there, there," her mother said in a somewhat cracked voice, clapping her loudly on the back. "Mary, dear. There, there, there!"
She saw Walter Starr, looking as if he were sure he was unwelcome. "Why, Walter!" she whispered, and hurried to meet him. He put out his hand, looking frightened, and said, "Mrs. Follet, I just couldn't ever…"
She threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. "Bless you," she whispered, crying softly.
"There now," he said, blushing deeply and trying to embrace and to sustain her without touching her too closely. "There now," he said again.
"I must stop this," she said, drawing away from him and looking about wildly for something.
"Here," said Andrew and her father and Walter Starr, each offering a handkerchief. She took her brother's, blew her nose, dried her eyes, and sat down. "Sit down, Walter."
"Oh thank you, no. I don't think," Walter said. "Only dropped in a moment; really must be off."
"Why Walter, what nonsense, you're one of the family," Mary said, and those who could hear nodded and murmured "Of course," although they knew this was embarrassing for. him, and hoped he would go home.
"Now that's ever so kind," Walter said, "but I can't stay. Really must be off. Now if…"
"Walter, I want to thank you," she said; for now she too had reconsidered.
"So do we all," Andrew said.
"More than I can say," Mary finished.
He shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing," he said. "Now I just want you to know, if there's anything in the world I can do, be of help in any way, let me please, don't hesitate to tell me.
"Thank you, Walter. And if there is, we certainly will. Gratefully."
"Good night then."
Andrew walked with him to the front door. "Just let me know, Andrew. Anything," Walter said.
"I will and thank you," Andrew replied. Their eyes met, and for a moment both were caught in astonishment. He wishes it was me! Andrew thought. He wishes it was himself! Walter thought. Perhaps I do, too, Andrew thought, and once again, as he had felt when he first saw the dead body, he felt absurd, ashamed, guilty almost of cheating, even of murder, in being alive.
"Why Jay, of all people?" Andrew said, in a low voice.
Still watching his splintered eyes, Walter heavily shook his head.
"Good night, Andrew."
"Good night, Walter."
He shut the door.
Mary's father caught her eye; with his chin he beckoned her to a corner of the kitchen. "I want to talk to you alone a minute." he said in a low voice.
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