Her mother patted her knee and took her hand. "Very appropriate, dear," she said.
"I think so," Mary said; she wished she had not spoken of it.
"It is, Mary," Andrew assured her.
"Why didn't you answer when I asked you?"
"I was just thinking about him."
There was a silence; Catherine who had still held her trumpet hopefully extended, turned away.
"He was thirty-six," Mary said. "Just exactly a month and a day ago."
Nobody spoke.
"And last night-great goodness it was only last night! Just think of that. Less than twenty-four hours ago, that awful phone ringing and we sat in the kitchen together-thinking of his father! We both thought it was his father who was at death's door. That's why he went up there. That's why it happened! And that miserable Ralph was so drunk he couldn't even be sure of the need. He just had to go in case. Oh, it's just beyond words!"
She finished her drink and stood up to get more.
"I'll get it," Andrew said quickly, and took her glass.
"Not quite so strong," she said. "Thank you."
"It's like a checkerboard," her father said.
"What is?"
"What you were saying. You think everything bears on one person's dying, and b'God it's another who does. One instant you see the black squares against the red and the next you see the red against the black."
"Yes," Mary said, somewhat in her mother's uncertain tone.
"None of us know what we're doing, any given moment."
How you manage not to have religious faith, Hannah wanted to tell him, is beyond me. She held her tongue.
"A tale told by an idiot… signifying nothing."
"Signifying something," Andrew said, "but we don't know what."
"Just as likely. Choice between rattlesnake and skunk."
"Jay knows what; now," Mary said.
"I certainly won't swear he doesn't," her father said.
"He does, Mary," her aunt said.
"Of course he does," Mary said.
Child, you'd better believe it, her aunt thought, disturbed by the "of course."
"I wonder," Catherine said; everyone turned towards her. "Mary's suggestion-for-an epitaph-is very lovely and appropriate, but I wonder, whether people will quite-understand it."
"Agh," Joel growled.
"What if they don't?" Andrew said.
Mary leaned across her. "Yes, Mama! What if they don't! We understand it. Jay understands it. What do we care if they don't!"
She was surprised and somewhat hurt by the violence of this attack. "It was merely something to be considered," she said with dignity. "After all, it will be in a public place. Many people will see it besides ourselves. I've always supposed, it was the business of words-to communicate-clearly."
"Oh Mama, don't be mad," Mary cried. "I understand. I appreciate the suggestion. I just can't see that in a-that in this particular case, it's anything to be seriously concerned about. It's Jay we're thinking of. Not other people."
"I see; perhaps you're right. Praps I shouldn't have me…"
"We're very glad you mentioned it, Mama. We appreciate you mentioning it. It hadn't even occurred to me and it ought to. Only now that it does, now that you've told me, why, well, I just still think it's all right as it is. That's all."
"Let it go, Catherine, for God's sake let it go!" Joel was saying in a low voice; but now she nodded and became quiet.
"I hate to hurt Mama's feelings," Mary said, "but really!"
"It's all right, Mary," Andrew said.
"Let it go, Poll," her father said.
"I am," Mary said; she took a drink.
"We've got to let them know," she said. "His mother. We'll have to phone Ralph. Andrew, will you do that?"
"Of course I will." He got up.
"Just tell them I'm sorry, I couldn't come to the phone. Will you, Andrew? I'm sure they'll understand."
"Of course they will."
"Just tell them-how it happened. Tell Ralph I send his mother all my love." He nodded. "And Andrew. Be sure and ask how Jay's father is." He nodded. "And let them know when-why; why we don't even know, do we? When the-what day he'll-be-the funeral, Andrew!"
"Not for sure. I told them I'd see them in the morning about all that."
"Well you'll just have to tell them we'll let them know as soon as we do. In plenty of time. To get here I mean."
"What's the number, Mary?"
"Number?"
"What is Ralph's telephone number?"
"I-can't remember. I guess I don't know for sure. You'll have to ask Central. It's always Jay who called."
"All right."
"It's LaFollette," she called, as he went into the hall.
"All right, Mary." He went out.
"And, Andrew."
"Yes, Mary?" He put his head in.
"Talk as quietly as you can. We don't want to wake the children."
"Yes, Mary."
"It's queer I don't know," she told the others. "But it was always Jay who called."
"Tell your mother what's up," her father advised, for she was looking inquiring. Mary leaned across her.
"Bathroom?" her mother whispered discreetly.
"No, Mama. He's gone to telephone Jay's brother."
Her mother nodded, and still extended her trumpet, but Mary had nothing to say.
"I hope he will extend all our most-heartfelt-sympathies," her mother said.
Mary nodded conspicuously. "I specially asked him to," she lied.
After a few moments Catherine gave up, and relaxed her trumpet between her withered hands into her lap.
Chapter 12
Andrew had shut the door but they could hear him, trying to talk quietly. He was talking, indeed, very quietly, close to the mouthpiece with his hand around it; even so, Mary and Hannah could hear most of what he said. They did not want to listen, but they couldn't help it.
He said, "I want to make a long-distance call, please," and the quietness of his voice made them listen the more carefully. It was full of covered danger.
"Hello? Hello, is this long distance? Long distance I want to call Ralph Follet, Ralph, Follet, F, O, L, L, E, T, no, Central, F, as in father-F, O,-have you got that?-L, L, ET. FOLLET. At LaFollette, Tennessee. No, I haven't. Thank you. I said, thank you."
"I don't see how his mother's going to bear it," Mary said, in a subdued voice. "I said I just don't see how Jay's mother is going to bear it," she told her mother.
"Her own husband right at death's door," she said to Hannah, "and now this. He was just the apple of her eye, that's all."
"Hello?"
"She has a world of grit," Hannah said.
"Ralph? Is this Ralph Follet?"
"If she hadn't she wouldn't be alive today," Mary said.
"Ralph, this is Andrew Lynch." They sat very still and made no pretense of not listening.
"Yes. Andrew. Ralph, I have to tell you about Jay." Hannah and Mary looked at each other. With everything that Andrew said, from then on, they realized in a sense which they had failed to before, that it had really happened and that it was final.
"Jay died tonight, Ralph.
"He's dead.
"He died in an auto accident, on the way home, out near Powell's Station. He was instantly killed."
Mary looked down into the whiskey and began to tremble.
"Instantly. I have a doctor's word for it. He couldn't even have known what hit him.
"It was concussion of the brain, Ralph. Concussion-of the brain. Just so hard a shock to the brain that it killed him instantly."