Death In The Family, A - James Agee [43]
PART II
Chapter 8
A few minutes before ten, the phone rang. Mary hurried to quiet it. “Hello?”
The voice was a man’s, wiry and faint, a country voice. It was asking a question, but she could not hear it clearly.
“Hello?” she asked again. “Will you please talk a little louder? I can’t hear. ... I said I can’t hear you! Will you talk a little louder please? Thank you.”
Now, straining and impatient, she could hear, though the voice seemed still to come from a great distance.
“Is this Miz Jay Follet?”
“Yes; what is it?” (for there was a silence); “yes, this is she.”
After further silence the voice said, “There’s been a slight—your husband has been in a accident.”
His head! she told herself.
“Yes,” she said, in a caved-in voice. At the same moment the voice said, “A serious accident.”
“Yes,” Mary said more clearly.
“What I wanted to ask, is there a man in his family, some kin, could come out? We’d appreciate if you could send a man out here, right away.”
“Yes; yes, there’s my brother. Where should he come to?”
“I’m out at Powell Station, at Brannick’s Blacksmith Shop, bout twelve miles out the Ball Camp Pike.”
“Brannick’s bl—”
“B-r-a-n-n-i-c-k. It’s right on the left of the Pike comin out just a little way this side, Knoxvul side of Bell’s Bridge.” She heard muttering, and another muttering voice. “Tell him he can’t miss it. We’ll keep the light on and a lantern out in front.”
“Do you have a doctor?”
“How’s that again, ma’am?”
“A doctor, do you have one? Should I send a doctor?”
“That’s all right, ma’am. Just some man that’s kin.”
“He’ll come right out just as fast as he can.” Walter’s auto, she thought. “Thank you very much for calling.”
“That’s all right, ma’am. I sure do hate to give you bad news.”
“Good night.”
“Good-bye, ma’am.”
She found she was scarcely standing, she was all but hanging from the telephone. She stiffened her knees, leaned against the wall, and rang.
“Andrew?”
“Mary?”
She drew a deep breath.
“Mary.”
She drew another deep breath; she felt as if her lungs were not large enough.
“Mary?”
Dizzy, seeing gray, trying to control her shaking voice, she said, “Andrew, there’s been an—a man just phoned, from Powell’s Station, about twelve miles out towards LaFollette, and he says—he says Jay—has met with a very serious accident. He wants ...”
“Oh, my God, Mary!”
“He said they want some man of his family to come out just as soon as possible and, help bring him in, I guess.”
“I’ll call Walter, he’ll take me out.”
“Yes do, will you, Andrew?”
“Of course I will. Just a minute.”
“What?”
“Aunt Hannah.”
“May I speak to her when you’re through?”
“Certainly. Where is he hurt, Mary?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Well, didn’t you—no matter.”
“No I didn’t,” she said, now realizing with surprise that she had not, “I guess because I was so sure. Sure it’s his head, that is.”
“Do they—shall 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