A Death in the Family - James Agee [101]
“He could never have felt it. That’s the one great mercy” (or is it, she wondered); “the doctor is sure of that.”
Catherine wondered whether she could ask one question. She thought she’d better not.
“What’s an eightfoot embackmut?” asked Rufus.
“Em-bank-ment,” she replied. “Just a bank. A steep little hill, eight feet high. Bout’s high’s the ceiling.”
He and Catherine saw the auto climb it and fall backward rolling and come to rest beside their father. Umbackmut, Catherine thought; em-bank-ment, Rufus said to himself.
“What’s instintly?”
“Instantly is—quick’s that”; she snapped her fingers, more loudly than she had expected to; Catherine flinched and kept her eyes on the fingers. “Like snapping off an electric light.” Rufus nodded. “So you can be very sure, both of you, he never felt a moment’s pain. Not one moment.”
“When’s...” Catherine began.
“What’s...” Rufus began at the same moment; they glared at each other.
“What is it, Catherine?”
“When’s Daddy coming home?”
“Why good golly, Catherine,” Rufus began. “Hold your tongue!” his Aunt Hannah said fiercely, and he listened, scared, and ashamed of himself.
“Catherine, he can’t come home,” she said very kindly. “That’s just what all this means, child.” She put her hand over Catherine’s hand and Rufus could see that her chin was trembling. “He died, Catherine,” she said. “That’s what your mother means. God put him to sleep and took him, took his soul away with Him. So he can’t come home ...” She stopped, and began again. “We’ll see him once more,” she said, “tomorrow or day after; that I promise you,” she said, wishing she was sure of Mary’s views about this. “But he’ll be asleep then. And after that we won’t see him any more in this world. Not until God takes us away too.
“Do you see, child?” Catherine was looking at her very seriously. “Of course you don’t, God bless you”; she squeezed her hand. “Don’t ever try too hard to understand, child. Just try to understand it’s so. He’d come if he could but he simply can’t because God wants him with Him. That’s all.” She kept her hand over Catherine’s a little while more, while Rufus realized much more clearly than before that he really could not and would not come home again: because of God.
“He would if he could but he can’t,” Catherine finally said, remembering a joking phrase of her mother’s.
Hannah, who knew the joking phrase too, was startled, but quickly realized that the child meant it in earnest. “That’s it,” she said gratefully.
But he’ll come once more, anyway, Rufus realized, looking forward to it. Even if he is asleep.
“What was it you wanted to ask, Rufus?” he heard his aunt say.
He tried to remember and remembered. “What’s kuh, kuhkush, kih ... ?”
“Con-cus-sion, Rufus. Concus-sion of the brain. That’s the doctor’s name for what happened. It means, it’s as if the brain were hit very hard and suddenly, and joggled loose. The instant that happens, your father was—he ...”
“Instantly killed.”
She nodded.
“Then it was that, that put him to sleep.”
“Hyess.”
“Not God.”
Catherine looked at him, bewildered.
Chapter 16
WHEN BREAKFAST WAS OVER he wandered listlessly into the sitting room and looked all around, but he did not see any place where he would like to sit down. He felt deeply idle and empty and at the same time gravely exhilarated, as if this were the morning of his birthday, except that this day seemed even more particularly his own day. There was nothing in the way it looked which was not ordinary, but it was filled with a noiseless and invisible kind of energy. He could see his mother’s face while she told them about it and hear her voice, over and over, and silently, over and over, while he looked around the sitting room and through the window into the street, words repeated themselves. He’s dead. He died last night while I was asleep and now it was already morning. He has already been dead since way last night and I didn’t even know until I woke up. He has been dead all night while I was asleep and now it is morning and I am awake