Nathan Coulter by Wendell Berry

and stuck them in the band of his hat.
    â€œIt won’t do to talk too much about your business,” he said.
    We took the road to Port William, and stopped at the grocery store. Uncle Burley bought a sack of Bull Durham and a box of snuff, and a candy bar for me. We went on through town toward the house where Kate Helen and her mother lived.
    There were a lot of cars parked at the church, where Mrs. Crandel’s funeral was being held; and when we went past the graveyard we saw the fresh dirt mounded beside her grave.

    Uncle Burley pointed to the angel on top of the Coulter monument. “Chairman of the welcoming committee,” he said.
    â€œUncle Burley,” I said, “do you think Mrs. Crandel was good enough to get to Heaven?”
    â€œBeats me. It’s hard to tell what happens after they get them planted.”
    â€œPlanted?” I said.
    â€œPlanted in the skull orchard.”
    That was odd to think about. It sounded as if people’s bodies were like seeds and could grow up into trees after they were dead, and maybe those trees had skulls on them instead of apples or pears.
    I thought how my mother was dead. But I didn’t think of her growing up into a tree. Her body had to stay in the ground, but her soul was in Heaven because she’d been good. Grandma said she was happy up there with the angels. I thought it would be a bad thing to be dead anyway. I figured it was probably darker there than it was on Earth. And maybe she missed Brother and me.
    I said, “Uncle Burley, there’s not any way to find out how many times they’ve got your name in that book, is there?”
    â€œI reckon not.” Then he pointed his finger down the road. “Well, boy, if there’s not the prettiest little walnut tree you ever saw.”
    I looked, and it was, sure enough.
    When we got down to Kate Helen’s house, old Mrs. Branch was sitting on the porch. The shadow of the roof had moved until it ran in a straight line down the middle of her face.
    Uncle Burley tipped his hat to her and said, “Good evening, Mrs. Branch.”
    She squinted the eye that was in the sun and looked at us. “Howdy,” she said. “Is that you, Burley?”
    â€œYes mam,” Uncle Burley said. He asked her how her rheumatism was.
    â€œWell, it’s summer now and it’s better. But before long it’ll be winter again and the cold’ll cripple me. I just live from one summer to the next one.” She laughed as if she’d told a joke.
    Uncle Burley laughed a little too, and said that she looked mighty spry to him. He took the box of snuff out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Thought you might be needing some.”

    She said it was good of Uncle Burley to be so thoughtful of an old woman.
    â€œWe thought we’d come over to see the baby,” Uncle Burley said.
    â€œKate Helen’s yonder in the bed,” Mrs. Branch told him. “You all go right in.”
    Uncle Burley took his hat off when we went through the door and said, “Well, hello there, Kate Helen.”
    She smiled and held the baby up so we could look at it.
    â€œWell, I’ll be dogged,” Uncle Burley said. “It’s a boy, ain’t it, Kate Helen?”
    She said yes, it was a boy. Uncle Burley wanted to know what his name was, and she said it was Daniel.
    â€œThat’s a fine name.” Uncle Burley laid his hat on the foot of the bed. Kate Helen let him hold the baby and he sat down with it in a rocking chair.
    â€œWell, I’ll declare,” he said. “If that’s not a fine-looking baby.”
    The baby stuck one of its fists up in the air and started crying. But Uncle Burley rocked it a little and whistled to it, and it settled down and went back to sleep.
    Uncle Burley looked at Kate Helen and looked at the baby again and said, “Well, I’ll be switched.”
    He motioned for me to come and look too. And I did.
    â€œNow