Dad took the reins and led the mare across to the big sliding door and shoved it open and jerked the bridle free and slapped the mare hard on the rear, and she trotted out across the empty lot, then he came back. The boys had removed the dresses and were working at getting the brassieres off. They looked like thin hairless animals, frightened and cold. They turned their backs to him and took down Lorraine’s silky underpants and stepped shivering over to the manger to their own clothes draped on spikes and got into their pants and shirts and coats.
Are you going to tell my mom? the Seegers kid said.
What? No. But if I see you in here again, by God, I’m going to whip you.
The boy looked at Frank once, quick, and stumbled across to the door and hurried outside. They could hear him running across the corral.
You want to tell me what this is about? Dad said.
There’s nothing to tell, Frank said.
Those were your sister’s dresses.
Yes.
Does she know you took them?
No. But we weren’t doing anything to them.
You think she’d see it that way?
Frank looked at him and looked out the open door where the boy had gone. She wouldn’t care, he said.
Why wouldn’t she care?
She just wouldn’t.
How do you know that?
I don’t know it for sure.
Have you talked to her about this, what you’ve been doing?
No.
She doesn’t know anything about it? How you two were wearing her dresses?
No.
Jesus Christ. He looked at Frank, watching his face. What am I supposed to do about this?
Leave me alone.
Leave you alone.
Please.
Dad stared at him. Christ, he said. What are you anyway?
I’m just your boy. That’s all I am.
Dad grabbed him and shook him, hauling him around in the cold air, they staggered in and out of the bars of light fallen across the floor, and then Dad stopped shaking him and grabbed the bridle reins and whipped at him. Frank pulled away, and in his wildness Dad whipped him once across the face and then he suddenly threw the reins away and grabbed the boy, holding him in his arms, hugging him and sobbing. Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.
Frank held himself rigid in his father’s arms and finally Dad let him go, then Dad hurried out of the barn, stumbling across to the house into the bathroom and was sick and then went back to the bedroom, his head aching and throbbing now. When he was lying in bed he turned his head and looked out the window. The sun was going down. His eyes welled up and he straightened his head on the pillow and folded his arm over his face in the darkening room.
After a while he heard Frank enter the house and climb the stairs to the second floor. He could hear him in his sister’s room where he must have been hanging up the two dresses in the closet, and putting away her underwear, then he heard him cross the hall to his own bedroom and he thought he could hear the bed as he lay down, and he thought he must be touching at his cheek now, fingering where the welt was.
At suppertime Mary stood beside the bed in the dark downstairs bedroom. Are you awake, dear?
I’m awake.
Can you get up for supper?
I don’t want anything.
You don’t sound good. Are you all right?
He nodded slightly.
Okay then. But you seem sicker than you did this morning. Call me if you need something.
In the kitchen she sat down with Lorraine and Frank and she noticed his face immediately.
Honey, what happened to you?
I ran into a post in the barn.
It must hurt. You need something on it. Let me look at it.
He pulled away. Leave it alone, Mom. Never mind.
15
DAD CAME OUT from the bedroom through the hall in the hot still summer afternoon using his wood cane, with Mary following behind, her hands held out in case he needed help, and they came on into the living room where the preacher and Lorraine were sitting together on the couch. Lyle had said not to disturb Mr. Lewis if he was sleeping but Mary told him she’d go back to see if he was awake yet. Now Dad moved across to his chair and sat down and put his cane in place on the floor, looking up at Lyle, who rose and stood next to him and touched him on the shoulder and reached down to take his hand. It’s good to see you, he said. How are you doing today?
Getting slower. Going downhill more.
Are you in pain?
No. They got that taken care of.
I won’t trouble you for long. I just came to see how you were feeling.
You don’t trouble me. Sit down a while if you care to.
Lyle turned and sat again beside Lorraine. Mary seated herself in the rocker as Dad glanced out the window at the sprinkler that was throwing rings of water onto the grass between their house and Berta May’s.
What’s the weather doing out there today? he said. Too hot again?
They say it’s going to rain, Lyle said.
It might. It’s turning off dark right now.
The farmers won’t like that, will they, Daddy? Lorraine said.
Not if they’re trying to cut wheat. The guys with corn won’t mind it.
Sounds like a mixed blessing, Lyle said.
Dad looked at him. Yes sir. Lots of things turn out to be blessings that got mixed up.
You’ve seen some in your lifetime here.
I was raised out on the west plains in Kansas.
You’ve seen some changes.
One or two. He looked out the window again. The sprinkler had moved on its cleated wheels. He looked back. This was the only house on this street when we bought it. Isn’t that right, Mary?
It was nothing but prairie and wind and dirt, she said.
The wind still blows, he said. That doesn’t change. You got to have some wind.
It doesn’t have to blow on my account, she said. I’m tired of it.
They never paved our road over. I don’t guess I’ll see that. If they ever do.
What about people you’ve known? Lyle said. Do you think people have changed?
People?
Are we any different now?
I don’t know. He stared at the preacher. We got more comfortable. We’re not as active or physical. We don’t even go out as far as the front porch as much as we used to. We sit around and watch TV. TV is what’s become of people.
My folks always used to sit out in the evenings in the summer, Mary said. I remember that so well.
We did when I was a kid too, Lorraine said. When Frank and I were still little, before junior high. Do you remember?
Frank’s your brother, I understand, Lyle said. May I ask about him? I hear his name mentioned.
No one said anything. After a while Dad said, You can ask about him but it won’t make no difference. He left here a long time ago. Two days after he finished high school, he took off.
That’s pretty young to leave home, Lyle said.
He only come back twice, Dad said.
But he’ll come back now, won’t he.
Back here?
Yes.
Why would he?
To see you. He’ll want to say good-bye.
He won’t come back for that, Dad said.
Honey, he might yet, Mary said. Oh I want to think he will.
He doesn’t know I’m dying. He won’t be coming back.
Haven’t you told him? Lyle said.
We don’t know where he is.
But would you like to see him?
I’m not waiting on Frank so I can die. If that’s what you’re getting at.
Most people want to see all their family before they go.
I got my family right here.
No, this is not all of us, Mary said. Don’t say we’re all here.
As far as I’m concerned we’re all here, he said.
No, we’re not, Daddy, said Lorraine.