A Death in the Family - James Agee [48]
“As your father says, it’s ten to one he’s just a plain damned fool,” Hannah said.
“But it’s such an important thing to say, and so simple to say, at least to give some general idea about. At least whether he could come home, or go to a hospital, or ... He didn’t say anything about an ambulance. An ambulance would mean hospital, almost for sure. And surely if he meant the—the very worst, he’d have just said so straight out and not leave us all on tenterhooks. I know it’s just what we have no earthly business guessing about, good or bad, but really it does seem to me there’s every good reason for hope, Aunt Hannah. It seems to me that if...”
The telephone rang; its sound frightened each of them as deeply as either had experienced in her lifetime. They looked at each other and got up and turned towards the hall. “I...” Mary said, waving her hand right at Hannah as if she would wave her out of existence.
Hannah stopped where she stood, bowed her head, closed her eyes, and made the sign of the Cross.
Mary lifted the receiver from its hook before the second ring, but for a moment she could neither put it to her ear, nor speak. God help me, help me, she whispered. “Andrew?”
“Poll?”
“Papa!” Relief and fear were equal in her. “Have you heard anything?”
“You’ve heard?”
“No. I said. ‘Have you heard from Andrew?’ ”
“No. Thought you might have by now.”
“No. Not yet. Not yet.”
“I must have frightened you.”
“Never mind, Papa. It’s all right.”
“Sorry as hell, Poll, I shouldn’t have phoned.”
“Never mind.”
“Let us know, quick’s you hear anything.”
“Of course I will, Papa. I promise. Of course I will.”
“Shall we come up?”
“No, bless you, Papa, it’s better not, yet. No use getting all worked up till we know, is there?”
“That’s my girl!”
“My love to Mama.”
“Hers to you. Mine, too, needless to say. You let us know.”
“Certainly. Good-bye.”
“Poll.”
“Yes?”
“You know how I feel about this.”
“I do, Papa, and thank you. There’s no need to say it.”
“Couldn’t if I tried. Ever. And for Jay as much as you, and your mother too. You understand.”
“I do understand, Papa. Good-bye.”
“It’s only Papa,” she said, and sat down, heavily.
“Thought Andrew had phoned.”
“Yes ...” She drank tea. “He scared me half out of my wits.”
“He had no business phoning. He was a perfect fool to phone.”
“I don’t blame him. I think it’s even worse for them, sitting down there, than for us here.”
“I’ve no doubt it is hard.”
“Papa feels things a lot more than he shows.”
“I know. I’m glad you realize it.”
“I realize how very much he really does think of Jay.”
“Great—heavens, I should hope you do!”
“Well, for a long time there was no reason to be sure,” Mary retorted with spirit. “Or Mama either.” She waited a moment. “You and her, Aunt Hannah,” she said. “You know that. You tried not to show it, but I knew and you knew I did. It’s all right, it has been for a long time, but you do know that.”
Hannah continued to meet her eyes. “Yes, it’s true, Mary. There were all kinds of—terribte misgivings; and not without good reason, as you both came to know.”
“Plenty of good reasons,” Mary said. “But that didn’t make it any easier for us.”
“Not for any of us,” Hannah said. “Particularly you and Jay, but your mother and father too, you know. Anyone who loved you.”
“I know. I do know, Aunt Hannah. I don’t know how I got onto this tack. There’s nothing there to resent any more, or worry over, or be grieved by, for any of us, and hasn’t been for a long time, thank God. Why on earth did I get off on such a tangent! Let’s not say another word about it!”
“Just one word more, because I’m not sure you’ve ever quite known it. Have you ever realized how very highly your father always thought of Jay, right from the very beginning?”
Mary looked at her, sensitively and suspiciously. She thought carefully before she spoke. “I know he’s told me so. But every time he told me he was warning me, too. I know that, as time passed, he came to think a great deal of Jay.”
“He thinks the world of him,” Hannah rapped out.
“But,