A Death in the Family - James Agee [44]
“Do they—shan I get Dr. Dekalb?”
“He says no; just you.”
“I guess there’s already a doctor there.”
“I guess.”
“I’ll call Wa—wait, here’s Aunt Hannah.”
“Mary.”
“Aunt Hannah, Jay is in a serious accident, Andrew has to go out. Would you come up and wait with me and get things ready just in case? Just in case he’s well enough to be brought home and not the hospital?”
“Certainly, Mary. Of course I will.”
“And will you tell Mama and Papa not to worry, not to come out, give them my love. We might as well just be calm as we can, till we know.”
“Of course we must. I’ll be right up.”
“Thank you, Aunt Hannah.”
She went into the kitchen and built a quick fire and put on a large kettle of water and a small kettle, for tea. The phone rang.
“Mary! Where do I go?”
“Why, Powell’s Station, out the Pike towards ...”
“I know, but exactly where? Didn’t he say?”
“He said Brannick’s blacksmith shop. B-r-a-n-n-i-c-k. Do you hear?”
“Yes. Brannick.”
“He said they’ll keep the lights on and you can’t miss it. It’s just to the left of the Pike just this side of Bell’s Bridge. Just a little way this side.”
“All right, Mary, Walter will come by here and we’ll bring Aunt Hannah on our way.”
“All right. Thank you, Andrew.”
She put on more kindling and hurried into the downstairs bedroom. How do I know, she thought; he didn’t even say; I didn’t even ask. By the way he talks he may be—she whipped off the coverlet, folded it, and smoothed the pad. I’m just simply not going to think about it until I know more, she told herself. She hurried to the linen closet and brought clean sheets and pillowcases. He didn’t say whether there was a doctor there or not. She spread a sheet, folded it under the foot of the mattress, pulled it smooth, and folded it under all around. Then she spread her palms along it; it was cold and smooth beneath her hands and it brought her great hope. Oh God, let him be well enough to come home where I can take care of him, where I can take good care of him. How good to rest! That’s all right, ma‘am. Just some man that’s kin. She spread the top sheet. That’s all right, ma’am. That can mean anything. It can mean there’s a doctor there and although it’s serious he has it in hand, under control, it isn’t so dreadfully bad, although he did say it’s serious or it can ... A light blanket, this weather. Two, case it turns cool. She hurried and got them, unaware whether she was making such noise as might wake the children and unaware that even in this swiftness she was moving, by force of habit, almost silently. Just some man that’s kin. That means it’s bad, or he’d ask for me. No, I’d have to stay with the children. But he doesn’t know there are children. My place’d be home anyhow, getting things ready, he knows that. He didn’t suggest getting anything ready. He knew I’d know. He is a man, wouldn’t occur to him. She took the end of a pillow between her teeth and pulled the slip on and plumped it and put it in place. She took the end of the second pillow between her teeth and bit it so hard the roots of her teeth ached, and pulled the slip on and plumped it. Then she set the first pillow up on edge and set the second pillow on edge against it and plumped them both and smoothed them and stood away and looked at them with her head on one side, and for a moment she saw him sitting up in bed with a tray on his knees as he had sat when he strained his back, and he looked at her, almost but not quite smiling, and she could hear his voice, grouchy, pretending to be for the fun of it. If it’s his head, she remembered, perhaps he’ll have to lie very flat.
How do I know? How do I know?
She left the pillows as they were, and turned down the bed on that side, next to the window, and smoothed it. She carefully refolded the second blanket and laid it on the lower foot of the bed, no, it would bother his poor feet. She hung it over the foot-board. She stood looking at the carefully made bed, and, for a few seconds, she was not sure where she was or why she was