— He told you that?
— Well yes, I mean I think so, I…
— No no no, he bought it from a young Nigerian who was emptying bedpans in the hospital, he'd come over here to study medicine and brought a whole stack of them to pay for medical school. A hundred dollars, he gave the boy a hundred dollars for it and I was quite annoyed, a hundred dollars was a lot to us then. He'd just come out of the hospital and there were still all the bills.
The empty cup rattled its saucer in a tremble of her hand putting it down on the table where she reached for the light. — Was it, what kind of hospital… She put down the other cup. A wisp of steam came from the teakettle, and she reached for it carefully — I mean, it wasn't a…
— He's probably told you all those stories hasn't he, came through the dark doorway, — finding gold when he was Jack's age and nobody believed him? up above the Limpopo? It was always up above the Limpopo… and a sound as though she'd stumbled over something in there. — Or that boy he taught how to use a shovel?
— Do you need a light in there? It's over…
— No no no, just a look around… stepping over the newspapers flung on the floor there — he'll save anything, won't he… and coming out into the light — you can tell he's been in there can't you, the smoke, it clings for ages. And if you know that cough… She sat down and turned the cup's handle to her. — He doesn't much like getting old, does he.
— I hadn't really…
— That arthritis in his hands, it's been there since he was thirty. Like his father… she sipped at the steaming cup. — If you'd seen how he acted when he lost those teeth in the front, good God it was like they'd taken his balls all that Freudian stuff, you know, but it was a shock getting used to. He's not one for smiling much is he, but when you've been used to that broken grey Protestant smile and suddenly here's this row of neat even white teeth? That was just before he met you, the same Freudian stuff I guess… she picked up the cup, — because you're young. Just to prove he still had them.
— But I don't…
— And I don't mean his teeth.
— I don't quite, I mean I didn't know you'd be old enough, to have a son twenty five I mean.
— I didn't know you'd have red hair the woman said, looking at her all appraisal as she'd looked over the living room when she came in, as though that's what she'd come for, putting the cup down. — Is there a drink?
— It's, no I'm sorry there's not no… following the woman's eyes to the bottle empty on the counter — I mean there was but…
— No no no I understand, good God I understand that! She was standing, — it's just as well, really…
— Wait, there's a cobweb wait on the back of your skirt they're just everywhere in there, in that room… coming down to brush it away to be met with a knee come up, with the skirt raised skewed, with an indelible glimpse of flesh sagging these inner lengths of thighs she'd in that bed upstairs inhabited surging to meet him for as long as it lasted, until he came down fighting for breath himself, until she backed off unsteadily straightening up there against the sink — I, let me get something to…
— It's all right no, they're nasty aren't they… the hairy wisp of the thing hung black from her fingers — why they're so sticky, it's the smoke isn't it, it clings to everything for ages… dropping it into her teacup up with the back of her hand brushing her skirt smooth again, her shoulder, her sleeve as though brushing away her question, — he's not teaching now, is he?
— Well he, no, no I mean I don't really know what he…
— I don't think anyone does… she went on toward the front door, — anything he could get his hands on, even Greek drama and you can imagine that, but he didn't even really teach history no, no he wanted to change it, or to end it, you couldn't tell… and she had the door open, — to clean it up once and for all, like that room in there. It's getting dark… she'd stepped out, but she stood there. — If he hears from Jack, but he won't, will he. They just both finally felt like they'd let each other down, like they'd asked too much of each other and there was nothing left to, but he knows how to reach me. I'm sorry I disturbed you, I don't like to drive in the dark, I just spent ninety six dollars to have a new fuel pump put in this old car and it still stalls when you never expect it… and she suddenly put out her hand. — You look pale, she said, and then looking back into the room — you have lovely taste… squeezing the hand clutched there tight to the doorframe before she turned away.
The streetlight had come on out there on the corner. The door of the car slammed, and then it moved silently, dark, onto the road, coughing, moving faster down the hill, and then it was gone as though it had never been there at all.
When the phone rang she'd just picked up her own cup, back in the kitchen gazing down over the dark terrace where the twisted limbs of that naked scarecrow of a tree stirred their frayed reach as though in sudden torment to be gone but she'd filled it too full, and it spilled, catching that first ring before she could stop and then holding the phone like a weight unsteadily, listening, and then — oh! gripping the edge of the table — Edie! Oh I'm so glad you… no but you're right here! You could hire a car it's less than an hour, you could be here in less than… No I, I'm all right Edie I, I don't know it's all, everything, wonderful I, I can't tell you all, beautiful yes… yes tomorrow then, early? I can't wait… and she hung it up to get both hands gripping the table, coming up slowly as though fighting each moment, fighting a hand free to turn off the light and then stand, breathing deep, breathing deeper, before she turned back for the living room toward the stairs, toward the newel in flashes of colour caught in the glass on the sampler.
The front door hadn't closed, and through its glass panels the bare shadows of branches in the streetlight rose and fell on the black road out there in a wind scarce as the gentle rise and fall of breathing in exhausted sleep. For a moment longer she held tight to the newel as though secured against the faint dappled movement of the light coming right into the room here and then suddenly she turned back for the kitchen where she rushed into the darkness as though she'd forgotten something, a hand out for the corner of the table caught in a glance at her temple as she went down.
Some time later, and well up beyond reach where she lay with her head fallen on her shoulder, the telephone rang and a choked bleat of sound came lost from her throat in a great sigh as her knees drew up sharply turning her on her side, an arm flung out and her thumbs still crushed into the palms of her hands, the uneven trembling of her lip abruptly stilled spilling the tip of her tongue, and it rang again and was silent, and then it rang again, and it kept ringing until it stopped.
7
The red glare in the alcove windows spread through the cold living room setting the walls ablaze with the sun's rise red on the river below, gleaming in the emptied bottle and glass beside the wing chair where the hand stirred seizing its arm with the sudden blare of the Star Spangled Banner from the kitchen heralding another broadcast day. He opened his eyes and closed them immediately, and the blaze of the room fell away to a pink, to rose, till by the time the phone's ring brought him up in a stumble banging his shin on the coffee table it was all simply daylight. — Hello? He sat rubbing his shin, staring at the broken trace of the line drawn in chalk on the floor there, — well what about the phone bill, I don't… No this is not Mister McCandless, I don't know where the hell Mister McCandless is look I've never even met him, I'm just… Look, I just told you I've never met him, how can I tell you whether he's sent you a check for the God damn phone bill, I don't even… Good I'll tell him, if I see him I'll tell him, if you don't receive payment by five p m today you'll discontinue service, that's the… no goodbye, there's somebody at the door…