William Saroyan - The Laughing Matter

Everybody’s clothes were new, so that when they walked there was a Sunday formality to it, but the boy watched the grass, and the girl grew tired and was picked up by the man. The woman moved and spoke as a young girl does, and the man would not permit any thought or memory to come between him and the ritual of their being together. He spoke with gladness in his voice, speaking to each of them.

They reached Clovis in time to have a look at each of the three churches, to pick and choose, to discuss which would be the one they would enter. They decided on the Presbyterian because, while it was not as big and handsome as the Catholic, or as lonely-looking and appealing as the Methodist, it had large stained-glass windows that Red and Eva wanted to see from the inside, and seemed to all of them in appearance most nearly what a church ought to be. It was built of wood, painted white, had a nice steeple, and when they reached it the bell was ringing.

They went in and sat on a bench in the first row, on the right, because Red and Eva wanted to get as near as possible. The place was about a third full when they walked down the center aisle. A woman was playing something on the organ. The windows were beautiful pictures, one mainly in blue, one mainly in red, one mainly in green, and one mainly in yellow. The light that filled the place had all of these colors in it. The place was both dazzling and peaceful.

The adventure started with a man coming out of a door and standing behind a pulpit with a book on it. He said a few things, then everybody got up, opened a book, and began to sing. Red was astonished at this and looked around to see who was doing it. Everybody was. He heard his father sing, then began to sing, too, just making the sounds, not being able to sing the words until after a while. Eva’s mother began to sing, too, and Eva sang with her. Eva looked at Red once, giggled, and put her hand over her mouth. Red’s eyes got angry at her, she straightened out immediately, but only a moment later she giggled again, and again put her hand over her mouth. Her mother giggled, too, and put her hand over her mouth. Red’s eyes got angry at both of them.

After the song they sat down, the preacher said some more things, the people opened another book, the preacher said something, the people spoke together and said something back to him. The preacher sounded like a fine man, and the people speaking together sounded fine, too.

A man sang a solo. Eight women and eight men standing behind him sang part of the song with him.

The preacher prayed and said a lot of different things.

After that four men wearing white gloves came to where four wooden plates were stacked in a pile, picked them up, and handed them to people. Evan Nazarenus took a plate, put a half dollar in it, and handed it to Red beside him. Red put a quarter in it and handed it to Eva, who put a quarter in it and handed it to Swan, who put a half dollar in it and held it until a man came to get it. Red turned and watched the way they did it.

Then the preacher got up and talked. He talked a long time, but it was all right because there were always the windows to look at, and the people, too. Eva fell asleep. Her mother rested Eva’s head on her lap.

After a while it was all over. They got up and watched the people leave the church. They went out, too, and began to walk home.

The walk home from church was fun, too, but it was hot by then. It was so hot that Red asked to take off his coat, his shoes and socks, and Eva had to be carried almost the whole way. They were each given a bowl of cold cereal and milk for a quick lunch, then each of them went off for a nap.

When they were both asleep, the man said to the woman, “Thanks for what you did.”

“I can do it every day,” the woman said.

“I’ve got to telephone a friend in San Francisco for Cody Bone’s boy, and then I want to lie down on the sofa in the parlor and take a nap myself.”

“I’ll take a nap, too,” the woman said.

He went to the telephone, called his friend, then called Bart, and told him the story. His friend, a man named Harold Trabing, would call Evan sometime tomorrow afternoon, and Evan would call Bart.

“God,” the boy said, “I’m going to be awful nervous until you call tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll call the minute Trabing calls,” Evan said.

“Did he sound as if I might have a chance?”

“Yes,” Evan said. “I think you’ll be making the voyage all right, but forget the whole thing until tomorrow afternoon.”

“O.K.,” the boy said. “I’ll get in my car and drive all day and all night.” He stopped suddenly. “Listen,” he said, “let me bring the car over and leave it in the driveway. Why not take the family for a Sunday drive? Take them to the dam at Friant, or to the river at Piedra. I don’t need the car. I’ll walk to Clovis, and take in a movie.”

Evan went to the parlor and stretched out on the sofa. He was almost asleep when the telephone bell rang. It was Dade.

“They just surrendered,” he said. “The game’s over.”

“You mean you haven’t had any sleep yet?”

“I’m going to bed now.”

“What are you going to do when you wake up?”

“Go back to sleep.”

“When you’re through sleeping fly here, will you?”

“Yes.”

“We had breakfast together, then went to church. I’m driving them to Piedra for a picnic later on.”

“Is my car back?”

“Not yet,” Evan said. “Cody’s boy is lending me his car. When will you get here?”

“I need a lot of sleep,” Dade said. “I mean, I want a lot. Tomorrow night at the earliest, maybe the night after.”

“I’ve put the money in the top drawer of your bureau,” Evan said.

“That’s yours,” Dade said. “That was nothing. Just put it away in your satchel. I’ll phone you from the airport in Fresno.” In their own language he said, “Tell me.”

“I’m trying,” Evan said in the language.

“It is right,” Dade said in the language, and then in English, “Sometime during the day teach Red to say, ‘My name is Rex Nazarenus.’ Teach him something new every day.”

“O.K.,” Evan said.

He went back to the sofa, stretched out, and was soon deep in sleep, but not so deep that he was free. He begged his sleep to annoy him no more, let him rest, let him forget, so that he might in time learn what to do, in the time of another night, another day, another night and day, know what to do, know how to do it, know how for the rest of his life.

When he woke up he went out onto the front porch and saw Bart’s car in the driveway. He went to Swan and found her fast asleep. He found Red awake, and spoke to him about the picnic. Red jumped out of bed, and then the whole house was alive with the idea, Swan making sandwiches and Red and Eva urging her to hurry up, so they could go.

“I’m going, too,” Eva said. “Papa’s taking me , too.”

The man took Red aside and said, “I want you to sit in the back with Mama because I hurt Eva when I didn’t take her with us last night. I want her to sit alone up front with me. I know you understand.”

When they were ready to go the man said, “Now let’s see. Mama and Red in the back, and Papa and Eva in the front.” He watched the girl’s face. She was so pleased and surprised she became speechless. She scrambled into her place, sat there, folded her hands, turned several times to look at her mother and her brother. At last she said, “I’m in the front with Papa.”

They wore light clothing. The windows of the car were open. The air they breathed was good. The man followed country roads as far as possible, driving slowly, stopping now and then to look at a vineyard, a tree, or an abandoned house. He got out of the car once to take some ripe nectarines off a tree, and Red got out with him. The nectarines were a little hot, but they were, juicy and sweet. He counted out three for each of them. When they came to the river at Piedra he drove along the riverside road until they found a green place, a cluster of three willows. There they sat on a blanket.