“Hose, do you remember our Knutie?” Dory asked him, putting her arm around Knute’s shoulder and grinning. Hosea’s thumb and index finger went for the front of his shirt, but then, through some act of will on his part, he adjusted his golf hat instead and replied, “Why sure, Dory, I remember Knutie.” Everybody smiled and nodded and finally Hosea broke the awkward silence. “So, are you here for a visit, Knutie, or …”
Knute was just about to answer when Dory said, “No, she and Summer Feelin’ have moved back, for the time being.”
“Oh, well,” said Hosea, “that’s great! Welcome back to Algren.”
“Tha—” Knute was cut off by Hosea, who had suddenly sprung to life. “You still barrel-racin’, Knute?”
Barrel-racing! thought Knute. The one time she had barrel-raced, badly, was in a 4-H rodeo and Hosea Funk had happened to be her timer. That was years ago, before he became the mayor. Back then he got involved in every event in town. If there was a parade, Hosea walked along throwing out candy to the kids. If there was a flood, Hosea organized a sandbag crew. If the hockey team made it to the playoffs in the city, Hosea offered to drive. Once, at a fall supper in a church basement, he was given a trophy by the main street businesses and it said, Hosea Funk, Algren’s Number One Booster.
“Nah, I’ve given it up,” said Knute. And she kind of buckled her knees to look bowlegged and horsey. Hosea Funk nodded and Knute could tell he was thinking of something else to say. She waited. A few seconds more. There. This time he couldn’t help it. His fingers went to his shirt and tugged, not twice but three times. He was ready to speak.
“But that palomino could turn on a dime, couldn’t he? He was something else. Now whose was he? Art Lemke, that’s right, he was Art’s. Wasn’t he, Tom? You know the one I’m talking about? The palomino?”
“Yup, yup, I think you’re right, Hose. Wait a minute, no, yeah, he would have had to have been Art’s. Well … hang on, I’m trying to remember. Nope, he would have been Lenny’s. Remember, Hose? Art sold the palomino to Lenny after his accident and Lenny couldn’t keep the palomino from jumping the fence and hightailing it back to Art’s barn. If I remember correctly … it’s hard to say. I don’t recall how it all turned out exactly, but I do know that horse loved Art all right. Never really took to Lenny …”
Hosea leaned back in his chair with his legs stretched out in front of him, his palms pushed against each other as if in prayer, his fingertips against puckered lips. He and Tom pondered the palomino while Dory and Knute slipped away into the kitchen to make the coffee.
Hosea and Tom were friends, in a way. Not like in the old days, when they were boys, but in the kind of way that you are in a small town with another man your age who has never done anything, really, to make you hate him or love him. They might as well be friendly, although Hosea visited Tom’s house more often than Tom visited his. And, since his heart attack, Tom didn’t go anywhere except to his doctor’s appointments and those visits exhausted him.
Tom had been a veterinarian and knew about animals and that might have been one of the reasons Hosea brought up the subject of the palomino. Hosea might have felt inferior to Tom, being a professional, having a wife and a daughter and even a granddaughter, but Tom didn’t think enough about Hosea to feel much of anything towards him other than a simple affection and a certain type of sympathy and from time to time, especially these days, a pang of nostalgia when he remembered himself and Hosea as boys. During all those years while Tom was busy working as a vet and living with Dory and Knute, and while Hosea was living with his mother and looking after just about everything in Algren, their paths had kind of veered away from each other.
Of course, now, with Tom’s heart attack, the balance might have shifted. Tom was feeling fragile, while Hosea was still running around town taking care of business. Knute thought Tom was kind of uncomfortable with Hosea showing up like that, unannounced. He probably would have liked to have changed out of his polo pajamas at least and maybe shaved. But Hosea always just showed up. Making his rounds, enjoying a cup of coffee, passing the time. He liked to know what was going on in his town. People were used to Hosea dropping by for a visit.
“So, Hose, what are you up to these days?” asked Tom. Knute could hear him from the kitchen.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve got a lot on the go right now. I’ve, uh … well, you could say I’m working on a major project, Tom.”
“Good for you, good for you,” said Tom, and Knute imagined him grimacing, wishing he had a major project besides staying alive, and Hosea tugging, wishing he had something more to say and quickly, too, like a great conversationalist, a real charismatic public figure.
Tom had begun to say something else, though. “Are you ready to divulge the nature of your major project, Hose, or—” But just then, Summer Feelin’ came barrelling in through the front door, made a beeline for Tom’s lap, leapt, and landed square on her target, knocking off Tom’s glasses. Tom let out a big “oooph” and Dory came running from the kitchen thinking it was another heart attack, and Hosea stood there all nervous, tugging, tugging, tugging, until everyone realized what had happened and they began to laugh and S.F. tried on Tom’s glasses and coffee was served and the conversation turned to gossip and did you know that so-and-so was let go at the bank, after thirty years? No one’s saying why, and did you know that Sheila Whatsername has left her husband and is seeing a therapist in the city, but she looks great, she really does. And Hosea’s major project was forgotten.
At the end of the visit, they all stood clustered around the door for what seemed like hours. This was what Tom and Dory always did with their guests. Knute wondered why Dory didn’t serve another couple rounds of coffee or why they didn’t just sit down there on the floor in the front entrance area. Coats would be done up, then undone slightly, undone completely, sweat would form on the upper lip, the coats would be taken off and slung over their arms, then a hand on the doorknob, the coats would be on again, all the way, then undone an inch, mittens would be slapped together purposefully, then removed, bodies would stand erect, close to the door, then one leg would buckle and they would slouch against the wall. Well, the visitor would say like he or she meant it this time, “I’m outta here,” and then, “Oh! Did I tell you …?”
Summer Feelin’ fell asleep in the hallway on the floor between Dory’s legs.
“Excuse me,” said Knute, “I’m gonna take her to her bed.”
And with that, the three of them, Tom, Dory, and Hosea, began to flutter, and Hosea said, “Okay, yes, the poor kid, here I am keeping her up, keeping you all up, really, I should go.” This time Tom and Dory didn’t say, “Oh, Hosea, there’s no hurry.” Tom reached for the door and opened it, not caring at this point whether he got a chill and risked his life.
But just before Tom could close the door gently on him, Hosea turned around and said, “Say, Knutie, if you need any part-time work while you’re in town, let me know, I may be able to set you up with something.” And then he was gone. Tom and Dory went running for Tom’s evening medication, and Knute watched through the large picture window in the living room as Hosea walked away, into the night, through the few empty streets of his town, Canada’s smallest.
The baby. Naturally Euphemia had a plan. She had had nine months to figure out elaborate plots, twists and turns, casts of characters, acts of God, all to explain the sudden arrival of this baby. In the end, however, she didn’t use any of her fancy stories to explain the baby. Her family had always shrugged off any changes in their lives. If there was no explanation offered they couldn’t be bothered to hunt it down or make one up. Of course, the mysterious arrival of a baby in the household was not a small deal. But Euphemia decided to take a chance. A chance on simplicity. Instead of coming up with a thousand details, which could be forgotten or repeated in the wrong order and arouse suspicion, she decided to give her family only one.