The Complete Stories - Flannery O'Connor [29]
Lord, Ruller! It’s a huge turkey! He wondered how it would feel slung over his shoulder. Maybe, he considered, he was supposed to take it.
Ruller gets our turkeys for us. Ruller got it in the woods, chased it dead. Yes, he’s a very unusual child.
Ruller wondered suddenly if he were an unusual child.
It came down on him in an instant: he was … an … unusual … child.
He reckoned he was more unusual than Hane.
He had to worry more than Hane because he knew more how things were.
Sometimes when he was listening at night, he heard them arguing like they were going to kill each other; and the next day his father would go out early and his mother would have the blue veins out on her forehead and look like she was expecting a snake to jump from the ceiling any minute. He guessed he was one of the most unusual children ever. Maybe that was why the turkey was there. He rubbed his hand along the neck. Maybe it was to keep him from going bad. Maybe God wanted to keep him from that.
Maybe God had knocked it out right there where he’d see it when he got up.
Maybe God was in the bush now, waiting for him to make up his mind. Ruller blushed. He wondered if God could think he was a very unusual child. He must. He found himself suddenly blushing and grinning and he rubbed his hand over his face quick to make himself stop. If You want me to take it, he said, I’ll be glad to. Maybe finding the turkey was a sign. Maybe God wanted him to be a preacher. He thought of Bing Crosby and Spencer Tracy. He might found a place for boys to stay who were going bad. He lifted the turkey up-it was heavy all right-and fitted it over his shoulder. He wished he could see how he looked with it slung over like that. It occurred to him that he might as well go home the long way through town. He had plenty of time. He started off slowly, shifting the turkey until it fit comfortably over his shoulder. He remembered the things he had thought before he found the turkey. They were pretty bad, he guessed.
He guessed God had stopped him before it was too late. He should be very thankful. Thank You, he said.
Come on, boys, he said, we will take this turkey back for our dinner. We certainly are much obliged to You, he said to God. This turkey weighs ten pounds. You were mighty generous.
That’s okay, God said. And listen, we ought to have a talk about these boys. They’re entirely in your hands, see? I’m leaving the job strictly up to you. I have confidence in you, McFarney.
You can trust me, Ruller said. I’ll come through with the goods.
He went into town with the turkey over his shoulder. He wanted to do something for God but he didn’t know what he could do. If anybody was playing the accordion on the street today, he’d give them his dime. He only had one dime, but he’d give it to them. Maybe he could think of something better, though. He had been going to keep the dime for something. He might could get another one from his grandmother. How about a goddam dime, kid? He pulled his mouth piously out of the grin. He wasn’t going to think that way any more. He couldn’t get a dime from her anyway. His mother was going to whip him if he asked his grandmother for money again. Maybe something would turn up that he could do. If God wanted him to do something, He’d turn something up.
He was getting into the business block and through the corner of his eye he noticed people looking at him. There were eight thousand people in Mulrose County and on Saturday everyone of them was in Tilford on the business block. They turned as Ruller passed and looked at him. He glanced at himself reflected in a store window, shifted the turkey slightly, and walked quickly ahead. He heard someone call, but he walked on, pretending he was deaf. It was his mother’s friend, Alice Gilhard, and if she wanted him, let