The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers [38]
‘Perhaps I will,’ said Doctor Copeland.
Portia sat up suddenly and began arranging her tight, oily hair.
There was the faint sound of a harmonica and then gradually the music grew louder. ‘Here come Willie and Highboy,’ Portia said. ‘I got to go out now and meet them. You take care of yourself now, and send me a word if you needs me for anything. I did enjoy the supper with you and the talking very much.’
The music from the harmonica was very clear now, and they could tell that Willie was playing while he waited at the front gate.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Doctor Copeland. ‘I have only seen your husband with you about two times and I believe we have never really met each other. And it has been three years since William has visited his father. Why not tell them to drop in for a little while?’
Portia stood in the doorway, fingering her hair and her earrings.
‘Last time Willie come in here you hurted his feelings. You see you don’t understand just how--’
‘Very well,’ said Doctor Copeland. ‘it was only a suggestion.’
‘Wait,’ said Portia. ‘I going to call them. I going to invite them in right now.’
Doctor Copeland lighted a cigarette and walked up and down the room. He could not straighten his glasses to just the right position and his fingers kept trembling. From the front yard there was the sound of low voices. Then heavy footsteps were in the hall and Portia, William, and Highboy entered the kitchen.
‘Here we is,’ said Portia. ‘Highboy, I don’t believe you and my Father has ever truly been introduced to each other. But you knows who each other is.’
Doctor Copeland shook hands with both of them. Willie hung back shyly against the wall, but Highboy stepped forward and bowed formally. ‘I has always heard so much about you,’ he said. ‘I be very pleased to make your acquaintance.’
Portia and Doctor Copeland brought in chairs from the hall and the four of them sat around the stove. They were silent and uneasy. Willie gazed nervously around the room--at the books on the kitchen table, the sink, the cot against the wall, and at his father. Highboy grinned and picked at his tie.
Doctor Copeland seemed about to speak, and then he wet his lips and was still silent.
‘Willie, you were going pretty good with your harp,’ said Portia finally. ‘Look to me like you and Highboy must of got into somebody’s gin bottle.’
‘No, ma’am,’ said Highboy very politely. ‘Us haven’t had anything since Saturday. Us have just been enjoying our horseshoe game.’
Doctor Copeland still did not speak, and they all kept glancing at him and waiting. The room was close and the quietness made everyone nervous.
‘I do haves the hardest time with them boys’ clothes,’ Portia said. ‘I washes both of them white suits ever Saturday and I presses them twice a week. And look at them now. Course they don’t wear them except when they gets home from work. But after two days they seems to be potty black. I ironed them pants just last night and now there not a crease left.’
Still Doctor Copeland was silent. He kept his eyes on his son’s face, but when Willie noticed this he bit his rough, blunt fingers and stared at his feet. Doctor Copeland felt his pulse hammering at his wrists and temples. He coughed and held his fist to his chest. He wanted to speak to his son, but he could think of nothing to say. The old bitterness came up in him and he did not have time to cogitate and push it down. His pulse hammered in him and he was confused. But they all looked at him, and the silence was so strong that he had to speak.
His voice was high and it did not sound as though it came from himself. ‘William, I wonder how much of all the things I have said to you when you were a child have stayed in your mind.’
‘I don’t know what you m-m-means,’ Willie said.
The words came before Doctor Copeland knew what he would say. ‘I mean that to you and Hamilton and Karl Marx I gave all that was in me. And I put all of my trust and hope in you. And all I get is blank misunderstanding and idleness and indifference. Of all I