happen to you if you doze around all day with your backsides hanging out?
What do you think will happen to them anyway? Theophil said. They’ll be stupid and ugly as the rest. They’re nice enough kids, too, he said. But I sure don’t need you and your kids round here showing me how miserable a person can be. I don’t need you or anyone else painting in big letters what’s easy to see.
4
In Ara’s kitchen William laid down his knife and fork and put his coffee-cup in the middle of his plate. Then he put some more sugar in his cup.
I shouldn’t have come away, he said. But a man has his own things to see to. I took it they could straighten things out between themselves. There’s things even a man’s own brother has to pass by.
Ara sat fraying threads from the edge of the oil-cloth.
There are things, she said, that can’t be straightened out. They have to be pulled and wrenched and torn. And maybe just stay muddled up. Or pushed out of sight and left where they are. You can’t tidy up people the way you can tidy up a room, she said. They’re too narrow or too big. And even rooms, she said, don’t take long to get untidy again.
I don’t complain, he said. Though for myself I like to keep my gear in order.
You never complain at all, she said. Sometimes I wish you would. There’s a sort of dryness settled on us like dust. You’re seeing things all the time, but you never look at anything here. Sometimes when your mother was going up and down the creek I wanted to call out: What are you looking at? She was the one who noticed. If we had a child, she said, you’d care enough to complain. Your mother hated me and you pity me. Where can a woman lift herself on two such ropes. One pulling her down. The other simply holding her suspended.
I don’t know, William said.
That’s the first time I’ve heard you say you didn’t know and really mean it, Ara said.
She pressed her hands against her eyes.
William got up and went round the table. He put his hand on her shoulder.
Don’t, Ara, he said.
Don’t what? she asked.
Don’t squeeze at your eyes like that, he said. I’ve known men blinded by less. Over a period of time, he said.
Could I be blinder than I am? she asked. Seeing things only in flashes.
He put his hand on her shoulder again.
Why are you so set on scorning yourself? he said. Put on your things, he said, and come up to James’s with me. I’m going as soon as I finish here.
He sat down and began to pull on his boots.
If you come thinking Greta’s going to light out at you, he said, she probably will. People keep thinking thoughts into other people’s heads. I’ve seen a woman thinking how a man despised her, and keep thinking it till a man knocked her down. It’s best to be trusting and loving, he said.
What’s loving? she asked. Loving just makes trouble. Look at the girl Wagner, she said. She’s got through loving what loving never gave me, and it’s as much or more shame to her. I told Greta not to speak that way, but I knew. Was Greta right, too, about your leaning over counters when you’re not here. Are you looking for someone else to get children for you? Who is the father of the Wagner girl’s child? Tell me, she said. William, tell me.
What do you want me to tell you? he asked.
Nothing, she said. Nothing at all.
I don’t know what’s the matter with you, Ara, he said. You’ve never talked like this before. It doesn’t make sense in your mouth somehow.
Ever since I was in Greta’s kitchen during the storm, she said, I’ve been trying to fit the pieces into a pattern.
Some of the pieces aren’t so far to look for as you think, he said.
Do you know, Ara, he said, for a man who sees so much I’ve not seen what was growing up in my own yard. It’s like a man who stands on a rock looking over a valley. He doesn’t notice the rock, he said. He just stands on it.
He got up, but he did not move away.
Suppose the rock should suddenly begin to move, he said. Or
What do you think will happen to them anyway? Theophil said. They’ll be stupid and ugly as the rest. They’re nice enough kids, too, he said. But I sure don’t need you and your kids round here showing me how miserable a person can be. I don’t need you or anyone else painting in big letters what’s easy to see.
4
In Ara’s kitchen William laid down his knife and fork and put his coffee-cup in the middle of his plate. Then he put some more sugar in his cup.
I shouldn’t have come away, he said. But a man has his own things to see to. I took it they could straighten things out between themselves. There’s things even a man’s own brother has to pass by.
Ara sat fraying threads from the edge of the oil-cloth.
There are things, she said, that can’t be straightened out. They have to be pulled and wrenched and torn. And maybe just stay muddled up. Or pushed out of sight and left where they are. You can’t tidy up people the way you can tidy up a room, she said. They’re too narrow or too big. And even rooms, she said, don’t take long to get untidy again.
I don’t complain, he said. Though for myself I like to keep my gear in order.
You never complain at all, she said. Sometimes I wish you would. There’s a sort of dryness settled on us like dust. You’re seeing things all the time, but you never look at anything here. Sometimes when your mother was going up and down the creek I wanted to call out: What are you looking at? She was the one who noticed. If we had a child, she said, you’d care enough to complain. Your mother hated me and you pity me. Where can a woman lift herself on two such ropes. One pulling her down. The other simply holding her suspended.
I don’t know, William said.
That’s the first time I’ve heard you say you didn’t know and really mean it, Ara said.
She pressed her hands against her eyes.
William got up and went round the table. He put his hand on her shoulder.
Don’t, Ara, he said.
Don’t what? she asked.
Don’t squeeze at your eyes like that, he said. I’ve known men blinded by less. Over a period of time, he said.
Could I be blinder than I am? she asked. Seeing things only in flashes.
He put his hand on her shoulder again.
Why are you so set on scorning yourself? he said. Put on your things, he said, and come up to James’s with me. I’m going as soon as I finish here.
He sat down and began to pull on his boots.
If you come thinking Greta’s going to light out at you, he said, she probably will. People keep thinking thoughts into other people’s heads. I’ve seen a woman thinking how a man despised her, and keep thinking it till a man knocked her down. It’s best to be trusting and loving, he said.
What’s loving? she asked. Loving just makes trouble. Look at the girl Wagner, she said. She’s got through loving what loving never gave me, and it’s as much or more shame to her. I told Greta not to speak that way, but I knew. Was Greta right, too, about your leaning over counters when you’re not here. Are you looking for someone else to get children for you? Who is the father of the Wagner girl’s child? Tell me, she said. William, tell me.
What do you want me to tell you? he asked.
Nothing, she said. Nothing at all.
I don’t know what’s the matter with you, Ara, he said. You’ve never talked like this before. It doesn’t make sense in your mouth somehow.
Ever since I was in Greta’s kitchen during the storm, she said, I’ve been trying to fit the pieces into a pattern.
Some of the pieces aren’t so far to look for as you think, he said.
Do you know, Ara, he said, for a man who sees so much I’ve not seen what was growing up in my own yard. It’s like a man who stands on a rock looking over a valley. He doesn’t notice the rock, he said. He just stands on it.
He got up, but he did not move away.
Suppose the rock should suddenly begin to move, he said. Or
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