Earthly Possessions - Anne Tyler [57]
“Mourners’ bench,” said Amos, still waiting.
“I was contemplating suicide. Preacher up and offered me an alternative solution.”
“Have some more eggs,” I told Dr. Sisk.
“No thank you, darlin’, maybe later,” he said. He turned back to Amos. “Life was getting me down. Grinding on so. The tedium! I’m a G.P. All those infants with upper respiratory infections, Vicks VapoRub smeared on their chests. Stethoscope goes ‘Sppk!’ when you pull it away. I thought of suicide.”
“Is that so,” said Amos.
“Preacher talked me out of it. Recommended I give my life to Christ, instead. Well, I liked the way he put it. I mean, just to hand my life over. Isn’t that true, my dear,” he said to me.
“Well,” I said, “but you still have income tax and license renewals.”
“Beg pardon?”
“Still have bank statements and dental appointments and erroneous bills,” I said. “If it were all that easy, don’t you think I’d long ago have handed my life over?”
Dr. Sisk sat down and started pulling at his nose.
“Help yourself to some eggs,” I told Amos.
“What?” Amos said. “Oh … no, really I …”
“Saul is paying a hospital visit, he ought to be back before long.”
“Well, do … I mean, funny, I thought it was a daughter you had,” Amos said. He took a handful of his hair. “Didn’t you send me a birth announcement? Daughter named Catherine.”
“Oh yes, that would be Selinda,” I said. “She’s already left for school.”
“Selinda.”
“This is Jiggs.”
“I see. Jiggs,” said Amos. He let go of his hair but continued looking confused.
Then Jiggs seemed to feel he had to stand up all over again, flashing white moons off his fingerprinted spectacles. “Jiggs, please,” I said. “In fifteen minutes you have to be ready to leave. Would you like some coffee, Amos?”
“No, thanks, I stopped for breakfast in Holgate.”
“Well, come and sit in the living room,” I said, and I led him down the hall, untying my apron as I went. “I hope you don’t mind the mess. It’s still a little early in the day.”
There was a mess, but nothing that would clear up as the day went on. Some guests can make you see these things. I had never realized, for instance, how very much dollhouse furniture Linus had produced in the last few years. People kept offering to buy it from him for fabulous amounts, but he wouldn’t sell. It was all for me, he said. Now on every tabletop there were other tables, two inches high. Also breakfronts, cupboards, and bureaus, as well as couches upholstered in velvet and dining room chairs with needlepoint seats. And each tiny surface bore its own accessories: lamps with toothpaste-cap shades, books made from snippets of magazine bindings, and single wooden beads containing arrangements of dried baby’s breath. Entire roomfuls were grouped beneath the desk and under the piano. I could see that Amos was startled. “They’re Linus’s,” I told him. “He makes them.”
“Oh, yes,” said Amos. He sat down on the couch, letting his moccasins sprawl out across the rug. “How is Linus these days?”
“He’s fine.”
“No more of his … trouble?”
“Oh no, he seems very steady. Right now he’s over at the laundromat with Mama.”
“And is Julian in these parts?”
“He’s down at the shop already,” I said.
“What shop?”
“The radio shop.”
“Dad’s radio shop?”
“Well, where have you been?” I asked. “Doesn’t Saul keep in touch?”
“At Christmas he just sends this card from the church,” said Amos, “telling me to bear in mind the true meaning.”
“Oh, I see,” I said. “Well, Julian works at the radio shop. It’s TV now, mostly, but we still call it the radio shop. He’s doing just fine. I really believe his lapses are going to get fewer.”
“Is that right,” said Amos. He drummed his fingers on his knapsack.
“Pretty soon we’ll start trusting him with money again, but meanwhile the customers just come by here and pay Miss Feather instead.”
“Miss …?”
“But what about you?” I asked. “Do you think you’ll get this job?”
“Oh, sure, the principal wrote and told me it’s mine if I want it. And I guess I do want it. I’ve been in one place