The Eternal Wonder by Pearl S. Buck Page B

his full mouth pouting, his blond hair crew-cut. He wore soiled green coveralls and his nails were black.
    “I’m Rannie Colfax, if that’s who you mean.”
    He put out his hand but Chris drew back.
    “I’m all black grease,” he said. “Say, what you doin’ with yourself these days?”
    “We were going on a long tour around the world but my father was taken ill—cancer. He’s—very ill.”
    “Too bad—too bad,” Chris said.
    A customer stooped and, putting his head out the window, he bawled, “Fill her up—high-test—”
    “What you doin’ tonight?” Chris asked from the gasoline tank.
    “Nothing—I just thought I’d look you up.”
    “Me and little ole Ruthie,” Chris said, snickering.
    To his surprise, Rannie felt a strange stir in his groin. “How is she?”
    “Pretty,” Chris said. “Too pretty for her own good—or mine. I might marry her one of these days, if she can ever be pinned down.”
    “But Chris, how old are you?” Rannie asked in astonishment.
    “Fifteen—sixteen—somepin like that. My ma’s never sure just what year it was she borned me.”
    “But Ruthie—”
    “She’s thirteen, but she’s all dolled up to look sixteen. She’s rare, she is. Lots of fellers—but she likes me best, she says—acts it too. I make good money here with my dad—ornery old cuss!”
    “I’d better be home tonight,” Rannie said. “I don’t like to leave my mother alone just now.”
    “No, well, you’re right at that, I guess. Gee, I’m sorry about your old man. But come again, will ya, Rannie?”
    “Yes, thank you, Chris. It’s good to see you.”
    “RANNIE!” HIS MOTHER WAS SHAKING him awake. “The doctor is here. Your father is—dying.”
    He leaped out of bed, instantly awake, and put his arm about her. She leaned against him for a few seconds and then drew him with her.
    “We mustn’t waste a minute,” she said.
    He followed her into the room where his father lay, stretched straight upon the wide old four-poster bed. The doctor sat beside him, his fingers on the dying man’s wrist.
    “He has lost consciousness, I think,” the doctor said.
    A whisper came from his father’s stiff lips—
    “No—I am still—here.”
    With effort he lifted his eyelids, searching.
    “Rannie—”
    “I’m here, Father.”
    “Susan—love—”
    “I’m here, darling.”
    “Give our son—freedom.”
    “I know.”
    A silence came, so long that those watching thought it was forever. But no, his father had not finished with life.
    “Rannie—”
    “Yes, Father.”
    “Never give up—wonder.”
    “I never will, Father. You’ve taught me.”
    “Wonder,” his father whispered, gasping for breath. “It’s the beginning of—of—all—knowledge.”
    His voice stopped. A slight shiver shook his skeleton frame. Now they knew he was gone.
    “Father!” Rannie cried, and seized his father’s clasped hands in his own.
    “It’s over,” the doctor said, and, stooping, he closed the glazing eyes. Then he turned to Rannie. “See to your mother, my boy. Take her away.”
    “I don’t want to be taken away,” his mother said. “Thank you, Doctor. Rannie and I will just stay here with him for a while.”
    “As you like,” the doctor said. “I’ll report the death and send someone to discuss details with you.”
    He shook hands with them gravely, kindly, and left them. They stood side-by-side, together and yet forever separate, as they looked down on the quiet figure of the man they both loved so well, yet each so differently. Memories, too, were altogether different, and so was the future each faced. What, Rannie was thinking, shall I do without him? Who will tell me thetruth about everything or where to go to find the truth? Who will help me to know what I am and what I ought to be?
    What his mother was thinking he did not know, because he did not yet know what love between man and woman was, although wonder was beginning. He could not wonder now for he wanted only to see