would happen.
Like Michaux, Bartram was a naturalist. He understood that things disappeared. Maybe that was why he’d felt compelled to preserve with sketches and words everything he saw, from Cherokee council-houses to buffalo bones. He wanted to get it all down. He wanted things to be remembered.
I lay the book down. The rain drummed against the roof and the town was quiet and still I was tired, tireder than I’d been in a long time. I went into the cell and lay down on the cot.
I dreamed of water deep as time.
Sunlight streaked through the bars when I woke. The telephone was ringing, so I stumbled out of the cell to my desk.
‘Daddy’s had another heart attack,’ Travis said.
‘Where is he?’
‘Over here at the hospital’
‘I’ll be there in five minutes,’ I said.
I wrote a note telling Bobby to go on up to Jocassee and start dragging the river, that I’d join them soon as I could.
At the hospital I found Travis and Laura slouched in plastic chairs. The twins lay on the couches.
‘How bad is it?’ I asked Travis.
‘The doctor says he might live a day or two, but he ain’t going to leave here alive.’
‘What happened?’
‘Shank of the evening I went over to work some more on his roof. I figured he was mending fence so I didn’t start no searching till near dark. I found him in the far pasture.’
Travis looked at the floor.
‘I thought he was dead. It’d be better if he had been.’
‘Did you try to call me last night?’ ‘No,’ Travis said, stiIl looking at the floor.
‘Why the hell not?’
Travis looked up, his gray eyes meeting mine.
‘You ain’t given a damn about him for so long I didn’t think you’d want your sleep bothered.’
I grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him out of the chair. My knuckles pressed against his breast bone.
‘You don’t know a thing of what I feel.’
‘You’re right,’ Travis said, his eyes still looking straight into mine. ‘I knew once but not anymore.’
The room seemed to close in around us. Whatever my life had been and was to be had come to this moment when I held my fist against Travis’s chest.
‘No, Will,’ Travis said, his eyes no longer looking into mine but looking behind me.
I turned and saw my nephew, my namesake, with a pocketknife sprouting from his fist, the other twin beside him, hands clenched.
‘Put it down, son,’ Travis said.
‘Not till he lets you go,’ Will said.
I opened my fist, stepped back. The room’s white walls widened again. We all stood there for a minute, sharing nothing but the same name.
‘Will they let me see him?’
‘Yeah,’ Travis said, rubbing his chest. ‘They’ll let you.’
‘You might need this,’ Laura said, and handed me a hospital pass.
I showed the pass to the nurse on the second floor, and she led me to the room. Daddy lay stretched out on the bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling, tubes taped to both arms. His skin was tinged blue, each breath an effort. Travis was right. It would have been better if he’d died in his fields, feeling the land against his body, seeing trees and crops and a sky that promised rain.
‘We’re trying to make him comfortable,’ the nurse said. ‘Does he know I’m here?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
The nurse left the room.
I held Daddy’s hand, and I knew it for a dead man’s hand. It was that cold. A hand that did not acknowledge mine. His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling. His body was nothing more than a husk now. I prayed for his soul, but he didn’t need my prayers. He’d lived a good life and treated people a lot better than they’d sometimes treated him.
‘I’m sorry, Daddy,’ I said aloud.
And I was, but it was too late to matter. He was gone from me now and never coming back. I held his hand until the nurse came back in to change his sheets.
‘I’ll be back this evening,’ I told Travis. ‘Leave a message with Janice if something happens.’
Travis nodded. He knew my meaning.
I drove on up
Like Michaux, Bartram was a naturalist. He understood that things disappeared. Maybe that was why he’d felt compelled to preserve with sketches and words everything he saw, from Cherokee council-houses to buffalo bones. He wanted to get it all down. He wanted things to be remembered.
I lay the book down. The rain drummed against the roof and the town was quiet and still I was tired, tireder than I’d been in a long time. I went into the cell and lay down on the cot.
I dreamed of water deep as time.
Sunlight streaked through the bars when I woke. The telephone was ringing, so I stumbled out of the cell to my desk.
‘Daddy’s had another heart attack,’ Travis said.
‘Where is he?’
‘Over here at the hospital’
‘I’ll be there in five minutes,’ I said.
I wrote a note telling Bobby to go on up to Jocassee and start dragging the river, that I’d join them soon as I could.
At the hospital I found Travis and Laura slouched in plastic chairs. The twins lay on the couches.
‘How bad is it?’ I asked Travis.
‘The doctor says he might live a day or two, but he ain’t going to leave here alive.’
‘What happened?’
‘Shank of the evening I went over to work some more on his roof. I figured he was mending fence so I didn’t start no searching till near dark. I found him in the far pasture.’
Travis looked at the floor.
‘I thought he was dead. It’d be better if he had been.’
‘Did you try to call me last night?’ ‘No,’ Travis said, stiIl looking at the floor.
‘Why the hell not?’
Travis looked up, his gray eyes meeting mine.
‘You ain’t given a damn about him for so long I didn’t think you’d want your sleep bothered.’
I grabbed the front of his shirt, lifting him out of the chair. My knuckles pressed against his breast bone.
‘You don’t know a thing of what I feel.’
‘You’re right,’ Travis said, his eyes still looking straight into mine. ‘I knew once but not anymore.’
The room seemed to close in around us. Whatever my life had been and was to be had come to this moment when I held my fist against Travis’s chest.
‘No, Will,’ Travis said, his eyes no longer looking into mine but looking behind me.
I turned and saw my nephew, my namesake, with a pocketknife sprouting from his fist, the other twin beside him, hands clenched.
‘Put it down, son,’ Travis said.
‘Not till he lets you go,’ Will said.
I opened my fist, stepped back. The room’s white walls widened again. We all stood there for a minute, sharing nothing but the same name.
‘Will they let me see him?’
‘Yeah,’ Travis said, rubbing his chest. ‘They’ll let you.’
‘You might need this,’ Laura said, and handed me a hospital pass.
I showed the pass to the nurse on the second floor, and she led me to the room. Daddy lay stretched out on the bed, his eyes staring at the ceiling, tubes taped to both arms. His skin was tinged blue, each breath an effort. Travis was right. It would have been better if he’d died in his fields, feeling the land against his body, seeing trees and crops and a sky that promised rain.
‘We’re trying to make him comfortable,’ the nurse said. ‘Does he know I’m here?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
The nurse left the room.
I held Daddy’s hand, and I knew it for a dead man’s hand. It was that cold. A hand that did not acknowledge mine. His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling. His body was nothing more than a husk now. I prayed for his soul, but he didn’t need my prayers. He’d lived a good life and treated people a lot better than they’d sometimes treated him.
‘I’m sorry, Daddy,’ I said aloud.
And I was, but it was too late to matter. He was gone from me now and never coming back. I held his hand until the nurse came back in to change his sheets.
‘I’ll be back this evening,’ I told Travis. ‘Leave a message with Janice if something happens.’
Travis nodded. He knew my meaning.
I drove on up
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