Benediction (30 page)

At one o’clock Willa and Alene Johnson came to the house and relieved Berta May. Before
leaving, Berta May made sure everything was in order, and Mary said, Would you mind
doing one more thing for us? Would you take these notices around to the stores? If
it’s not too much to ask. I know you’ve done so much already. It was the one thing
Dad said he wanted.

So that afternoon Berta May and Alice distributed the little stiff white cards with
black borders, bearing the news of Dad’s death and announcing the memorial services
to be held at the house and the
Holt cemetery. The notices had been printed that morning in the back room of the
Holt Mercury
newspaper.

They drove over to Main Street and Berta May stopped the car. Now you understand what
to do. Take one of these into each store and hand it to the person at the counter,
whoever is there.

What should I say?

You just say this is a funeral notice for our neighbor Dad Lewis. And be slow when
you do this. Don’t do nothing in a hurry. Remember what you’re doing here. This is
a solemn occasion.

Alice got out and Berta May moved the car down to the corner of Fourth and Main. Alice
went into all of the stores on the east side and crossed the street and entered the
ones on the west side. When she was done, Berta May drove farther down Main Street
and parked in the next block and watched as her granddaughter went in and out of those
shops. She was wearing a blue dress. She looked like a nice girl. At the hardware
store there was a Closed sign hung at the door and in the display window was a large
piece of wrapping paper with writing in black. Our friend Dad Lewis died this morning.
We’re closed until further notice.

In the last block of businesses Alice came back to the car before she had finished.
That woman wanted to know if the preacher at the Community Church was doing the service.

What woman?

That woman in there.

What did you tell her?

I didn’t tell her anything. I didn’t know what to say.

That’s exactly right. Anybody who asks you, you don’t know. And you’ll be telling
the truth. It’s none of their business. People like her make me real tired.

When they returned home Berta May said, Now I’m going to go back and lay down a while.
You take off your dress and put your shorts and T-shirt on.

Can I ride my bike?

Yes, but don’t you make no noise. I don’t want you bothering them next door.

What are they doing?

Those people are grieving. They’ve had a hard thing today. Other people are wanting
to come and visit them and talk. They don’t need no noise outside. Do you understand?

Yes.

Not a sound.

Yes, Grandma.

Okay, go on and get out of that dress and hang it up. I don’t mean to sound unkind,
honey. I’m just tired. You did a good job downtown just now. I’m proud of you.

Next door Alene and Willa were doing what they could to help. Alene washed the coffee
cups and saucers in the kitchen sink and put them to dry. There was a dishwasher that
Dad had brought home a long time ago but they didn’t want its disruption in the house
now.

Lorraine and Mary had gone upstairs to lie down in the two bedrooms. When the phone
rang Willa answered it at once and took down the caller’s name. The memorial will
be held here at the house, she said, day after tomorrow. Yes, that’s right. Here at
the house in the side yard, with a service at the cemetery afterward. Thank you, I’ll
tell them.

Later that afternoon Richard came back with a handful of flowers and Alene met him
at the front door. I’m Richard, he said. Maybe Lorraine mentioned me.

Yes. We’ve heard of you.

Is she available?

She’s sleeping, but you can come in and wait.

Well. I don’t want to be in the way. I’m happy to wait for her. She’ll probably get
up pretty soon. She never sleeps very well.

Is that right? Alene said and led him into the living room.

He’d bought the flowers at the grocery store on the highway and he
was carrying them in front of himself in their thin green tissue paper like a kind
of ceremonial element.

This is my mother, Willa Johnson, Alene said. This is Lorraine’s friend from Denver.

Lorraine’s asleep, Willa said. And can’t be disturbed.

I’ll just sit and wait for her.

The women looked at each other and Alene took the flowers to the kitchen and returned
with them in a vase and set the vase on the coffee table.

You don’t have to pay me any attention, he said.

The phone rang and Willa picked it up. This is the Lewis house. Willa Johnson speaking.
She explained again about the services, and hung up.

And after a while Mary came downstairs and Richard stood up to meet her. I thought
I had better come back, he said.

Yes, she said.

And then Lorraine came downstairs and he stood up again. I came back to see if I can
help.

Did you.

I’d like to, if I can.

There’s nothing to do right now. Thank you for asking.

I brought you those flowers.

I see that. Thank you. They’re beautiful.

The women went out to the kitchen and he sat again on the couch, looking around the
room, looking at the flowers. He picked up a magazine.

Toward the end of the afternoon Rudy and Bob came to the house. They were greeted
at the door and brought into the living room and were introduced to Richard. Rudy
and Bob had on their good wintertime suits and were sweating and red faced in the
heat. They sat down on the couch.

You’ll have to excuse us now, Mary said. You’re welcome to stay.

She and Lorraine and Alene and Willa went back to the kitchen and closed the door.

Mary said, I can’t be sitting out there with them or anybody. I just can’t do it.

Mom, you don’t have to.

You do what you want, Alene said. You don’t need to think about anyone else today.

There will be other times later, Willa said, but today now you just go ahead and do
what you feel you need to.

I don’t want to be rude. But I can’t sit out there. I think I need some air.

Do you want company?

She shook her head and went out to the backyard. They watched her through the window.
She walked slowly into the shade under the tree and they watched her bend far over
and touch the ground and lower herself onto her knees, wrapping herself in her arms,
and now they could see she was crying, the top of her white head on the grass.

Oh I should go out to her, Lorraine said. Look at her, the poor thing.

No, I don’t think you should, Willa said. She has to do this. This is only the beginning.
This is the first day.

In the living room the men sat glancing sideways at each other and looked around the
room and peered out the windows.

We kept the store closed today, Rudy said. He cleared his throat. We had to do that.

It was the right thing, Bob said. Out of respect.

I don’t know if it was ever closed before on a weekday. Except for Christmas.

Or New Year’s, Bob said. One of the holidays.

I brought these flowers, Richard said.

They stared at him.

On the table here.

After a while Richard stood up and went back to the kitchen and tapped on the door.
Lorraine came out and went with him to the front porch.

I think I’ll go, he said. There’s no point in me being here right now.

I thank you again for coming.

So I’ll see you tonight, he said.

No. I won’t be going anywhere. I can’t leave.

I got a motel room, he said. I thought you’d come join me.

I can’t leave my mother. What were you thinking?

I thought you could for a while. It’d be good for you. You need a break.

No.

Well, he said. When’s the funeral? Two days from now. I might as well go on back to
Denver, if you won’t see me.

You have to do what you want. But I can’t leave, you know that.

I didn’t, he said. He leaned to kiss her and she turned her cheek. I see, he said.
You won’t even kiss me.

Not now. I don’t feel like that.

He looked out toward his new car. There are just all kinds of things happening today
and not happening today, he said. Isn’t that right.

You can understand why.

I’ll see you, Lorraine.

She waited on the porch watching him walk around to the far side of the car. He got
in and looked at her for a moment. He didn’t wave. Then he put the car in gear and
sped off throwing gravel up behind just as a gray cat darted out in the street ahead
of him. Oh! she cried. Don’t hit it! The car swerved in time and the cat ran out with
its tail straight up and ran into the neighbor’s yard. She watched the car go on up
to the highway and turn west toward Denver.

In the house, when she went back inside, Rudy and Bob were standing in the living
room, talking to her mother. She could see Willa and Alene out in the kitchen.

I guess we better be getting on too, Rudy said. He looked at Lorraine. If there’s
anything we can do, you’ll let us know?

Yes, of course, she said. We appreciate all you do for us.

We wanted to be here, Bob said. You know what we thought of Dad.

Yes, we know, Mary said. You’ve both been very kind. You’re good friends.

One thing we wanted to ask you, Rudy said.

Yes?

We wondered what you was thinking about tomorrow.

Tomorrow? Lorraine said.

Because we figured you will want to close the store for the funeral the next day.

Of course.

But the question is. Tomorrow.

What do you think, Mom?

I think Dad would want it to be open. Keep it closed today and again for the memorial,
but open the doors tomorrow like always.

That’s what we was thinking, Rudy said. He was looking at Lorraine again. But we thought
we should ask.

That would be the appropriate thing, she said. If you will open tomorrow, please.

Well, we better get going, then. We’re sure sorry about Dad. We sure are. His eyes
filled with tears. That’s one thing for certain. We’re going to miss him every day.
It’s not going to be the same without him down there.

They started to shake hands with Lorraine but she stepped forward and kissed each
man on his clean-shaven cheek, red and streaming with sweat and uncomfortableness,
and then they both hugged Mary in their warm good suits, their eyes full of tears,
and went out the door and climbed into Rudy’s car and drove away.

Then at dusk Rob Lyle came once more to the house. Mary and Lorraine and the Johnson
women were out in the kitchen dishing up food and they asked him to join them.

No, thank you, he said. I only came by to see if you were all right.

You can just please stay here and join us, Mary said. We ask you to. You can see all
this food. People have been so kind. You’ll be doing us a favor.

Lorraine handed him a plate.

All of these gifts of food are a tribute to your father, aren’t they. And to you and
your mother.

People thought so much of him. All over this county, Lorraine said. Help yourself
and come into the dining room with us.

They made another place at the big dining table and the women and Lyle sat down and
he said a prayer of grace and they began to eat. But after a short while Mary put
down her fork.

Mom? What’s wrong?

I can’t eat.

You need to eat something.

I’m not hungry. I don’t feel like it.

You’ll feel more like it tomorrow, Willa said.

Maybe I will. I don’t know that.

Then suddenly the front door burst open and Berta May came rushing in. Alice! she
cried. Is Alice here?

They all stood up from the table and gathered around her.

I don’t know where my girl is. I told her she had to be quiet. I told her you was
grieving over here so she couldn’t make no noise. So I let her ride her bike. But,
oh I’m afraid she took me too serious. She must of went someplace. Oh, I’m just afraid
she’s got hurt or somebody’s done something wrong to her.

Has she been out late like this before? Lyle said.

Never. She never does this. Oh, what if something happened to my little girl. Berta
May began to cry. Her chin quivered and she covered her face. Mary and Lorraine put
their arms close around her.

What about her friends? Lyle said.

The old woman looked at him and dabbed at her eyes with a Kleenex. I called, she said,
but they don’t know no more than I do. She don’t really have friends here anyway.
We was waiting for school to start.

What about the police? Willa said.

I don’t want to call the police. This isn’t a police matter.

I could search around town, Lyle said. If you’d like me to do that.

If you could, maybe you’d see her somewhere. She might be playing with somebody that
I don’t know about.

Is there a part of town she liked to ride in especially?

That’s it—I don’t know. I never paid enough attention. She always come back in the
house to check in.