Read Online Medicine Walk by Richard Wagamese - Free Book Online Page A

of his hand across his lips and stood up, tucking the thing back into the pocket of his faded dungarees. He wavered but caught his balance, and put one hand on a hip and looked over at the kid.
    “Got something needs tellin’,” he said.
    The kid looked at the old man, who leaned back on the stacked lengths of wood and waved him over. The kid crossed to him and sat beside him. The old man put an arm around his shoulders and the kid peered up at him, wary at the sudden weight of the moment.
    “What?” he asked.
    “Hear the man,” the old man said.
    The kid turned to Eldon.
    “I’m your pap,” he said.
    The kid looked again at the old man.
    “I said I’m your father.”
    “What’s he saying?” he asked.
    “Sayin’ what he needs to say. Or thinks as much anyhow.”
    “Is it true?”
    “Ask him.”
    Eldon had caught his full breath now and he had a cigarette he twiddled between his fingers.
    “Is it true?” the kid asked him.
    “Truest thing I ever said,” Eldon answered.
    “That can’t be true,” the kid said. He stared at the old man wide-eyed. “I thought you were my dad.”
    “I’m raisin’ you. Teachin’ you. There’s a diff’rence,” the old man said. “But I love you. That’s a straight fact.”
    “How come then? How come he’s my father?”
    “Gonna have to ask him, Frank. It ain’t mine for the tellin’. Certain things when they’re true gotta come right from them that knows them as true.”
    “How come?” he asked.
    Eldon peered at him, then struck a wooden match and lit the cigarette. “Don’t know as I can say right now,” he said. “It’s complicated.”
    “What’s complicated mean?” the kid asked.
    “It means he ain’t got it all organized in his head,” the old man said.
    “Then why say?” the kid asked.
    The old man tousled his hair. “That’s what the scrap was about,” he said.
    “I don’t even know you,” the kid said.
    Eldon scratched his head. He took another long drag on the smoke. They could hear the nattering of ravens in the trees. When he looked over at the kid again his face was taut-looking. “That’s why I said it.”
    “I don’t understand.”
    “Me neither rightly.”
    “Then why
say
?” He stood and moved a few steps away from the old man. He put his hands on his hips and stared at Eldon.
    “Jesus,” Eldon said. “You got him talkin’ like a man.”
    The old man smirked. “Someone got to,” he said.
    Eldon ground the smoke out on the logs. He flicked it across the open space with one finger. The old man eyed him sternly and Eldon strode over and retrieved the butt and put it in his pocket. He looked at the two of them sheepishly. “Thing is,” he said slowly. “I don’t know why I come. Except somethin’ told me I needed to. Hell, the truth is, I don’t know why I hadta say it neither. Just kinda felt like I did. Savvy?”
    “No,” the kid said.
    “Damn,” Eldon said. “This is tough business.”
    “You called it,” the old man said.
    “Shit,” Eldon said. “Sorry. About the cussin’, I mean. I’m way too sober for this.”
    “You know how to fix that. Always did.”
    “Yeah,” Eldon said and stared at the ground. He traced a half-circle back and forth with the toe of his boot. Back and forth. Back and forth. His lips were pinched together and his shoulders slumped. The kid felt sorry for him. He’d never seen anyone trapped by their own words before. It looked like tough business like he’d said.
    “It’s all right,” the kid said quietly.
    Eldon looked up at him and the kid could see that his eyes looked wet. His hands shook as he rubbed at his chin. He looked ready to bolt. He took a huge breath and looked up at the sky. He exhaled loudly and when he looked back at the kid and the old man he looked desolate. It scared the kid some and he edged closer to the old man. “How come this is such a rough go?” Eldon asked.
    The old man stood up. “Truth ain’t never easy. Especially one you had