Anne Tyler - Morgan's Passing

"I want to be with you," she said. "I wish we could just run away."

"Ah," he said. He was immediately taken with the idea. "Yes! Run away. No luggage, no fixed destination… Will Gina come willingly, do you think?"

"I don't know," she said. She swallowed. "It's telling him face to face I mind. Maybe I could go to a pay phone and call him up, tell him from a distance."

"Well, that's a thought."

"Or you could tell him."

"Me?"

"You could… get behind a table or something where he couldn't hit you and then break the news to him."

"I preferred the running-away plan," Morgan said.

"But taking Gina: I couldn't do that to Leon. And I'd never leave her behind."

"All right," Morgan said. "I'll tell him myself." He assumed it was all arranged then, and went into the kitchen to sit down and wait for Leon. But Emily floated after him, still twisting her hands, and said, "Oh, no, what am I thinking of? I don't know why I'm such a coward. Of course I have to be the one to do it. Go away and come back later, Morgan."

"That's impossible," he said. "I'm lugging this dog around."

"I feel sick," she said.

"Dear heart. This is really very simple," he told her. "We're all adults. We're reasonable beings. What do you imagine will happen? Could I have some water for Harry, please?" She took a bowl from the cupboard and filled it at the sink. She set the water in front of Harry, who started slurping it up. Then she shifted her purse from a chair and sat next to Morgan. "If we ran away, I would have to find some other kind of work," she said. "Something I couldn't be traced by. It's so easy to track down a puppet show, at any fair or church bazaar."

"Well, then. You can't run away," he said. "What would you do without your puppets?"

"I could manage fine without my puppets," she said.

"No, no…"

"I never planned to stick with them, forever."

"Oh, of course you'll stick with them, Emily, dear." She slumped in her chair, massaging her temples with her fingertips. Harry raised his head and shook water all over the kitchen floor. "Mind your manners," Morgan told him. He reached across the table for Emily's purse. It had an interesting weight to it. Most days, all it contained was keys and her billfold, but whenever she had a puppet show she loaded it with carefully selected equipment. You could live in the wilderness for a month off that purse, Morgan thought. He rummaged through it and came up with a ball of string, a roll of Scotch tape, her Swiss Army knife, a pair of needle-nosed pliers.. "What's this for? And this?" he kept asking.

"I think I'm going to throw up," she said.

"What's this little Baggie full of Cheerios?"

"They're the doughnuts for Red Riding Hood's basket."

"Oh, yes. Oh, excellent." He began to feel very happy. He piled everything back in the purse and started humming, patting his knees, looking around for something new. "How's your burner doing?" he asked.

"It's fine."

"See? I told you all it needed was unclogging." He hummed a few more bars. Then he said, "Don't you want to know why I have this dog with me?" She didn't seem to. He continued anyway. "Bonny brought him. Threw everything out on the sidewalk: hats, clothes, vacuum-cleaner instructions… and Harry. But Harry belongs to Mother. Mother's always owned a dog. This must be her tenth or twentieth. Who did she have when you first met us-Elmer? Lucille? She pays them no mind at all, never looks at them, it's me who walks them… but she's always had one, so she always will. That's the way they work things, back home. The extras! The stacks of unnecessary extras! This Harry, you see, is Sonny's revenge. Oh, she knew what she was doing, all right. Cluttering up my leaving, even. I'm surprised she didn't bring the cat as well."

"I always did want a dog." Emily said unexpectedly, "Eh?"

"But I couldn't because my mother was allergic."

"Yes, that's Butkins' trouble, too. Allergic."

"Butkins?" They heard the front door open. Emily sat up straighter. "Mama," said Gina, bouncing in, "guess what I got on my science test. Hello, Morgan, what's Harry doing here?"

"I brought him in for a drink. Well, Miss Gina," Morgan said. "What'd you get on your science test?"

"A-plus," she said. She twined an arm around him and looked down at Harry, who was scratching fleas. Leon walked in.

"Hello, Morgan," he said.

"Leon."

"Taking the afternoon off?"

"Yes, well, there's something I want to discuss with you."

"What's that?" asked Leon.

Morgan glanced over at Gina. She had dropped her arm but continued to stand there, so close that he could smell her salty, summery smell of fresh sweat and chewing gum. He scratched his head. "Leon/' he said, "would you like to… come walk the dog with me?"

"Do what?"

"Walk the dog." Leon looked at the dog, who grinned.

"Don't if you don't want to," Morgan said. "Do you want to?"

"All right, Morgan," Leon said calmly.

Morgan stood up, tucking in his shirt, adjusting his Panama hat. They went out of the apartment together. Just as Leon was closing the door, Gina called, "Wait!"

"What's the matter?"

"You forgot the dog."

"Oh," Morgan said. He shuffled back to the door and took Harry's rope from her.

They went down the stairs and outside. The rush-hour traffic was just beginning. Trucks rumbled past, and cars with single, determined drivers, and taxis carrying ladies submerged hi packages. It took a while to cross the street. Then they started north. Leon led, with both hands loose at his sides in an easy, unquestioning way that gave Morgan a sudden pang.

"Well," Morgan said.

He waited for Harry to sniff out the proper spot in the grass. Leon straightened a sign that had pivoted on its post, "I find myself in a little difficulty," Morgan said.

"Say it, Morgan."

"It's Emily." They walked on. Morgan thought of the old women in the neighborhood where he had grown up-how they never announced a death straightforwardly but prepared the bereaved first, " planting tiny seeds of news and allowing them to sprout on their own, no faster than the bereaved could handle. Emily's name, he hoped, might be such a seed all by itself. Certainly Leon seemed to be turning it over in his mind. They stopped and waited for a light to change, although no cars were coming.

"Emily and I…" Morgan said.

They crossed the street. They avoided a shattered whiskey flask.

"She's expecting a child," Morgan said.

Leon didn't slow down. Morgan cast a sideways glance at him and found his face unmoved. "You knew all along," Morgan said.

"No," said Leon. "Not about the child."

"But the rest of it, you knew."

"Yes."

"Well… how?"

"Osmosis, maybe," Leon said. "Something or other."

"You have to believe me," Morgan said. "I never intended any harm. I really can't explain… I mean, day by day, you see, it didn't seem so terrible. But I know how it must appear from outside."

"What are your plans?" Leon asked politely.

They paused, facing each other, with Harry on his haunches between them. If Leon was going to get violent, now was the time. But he didn't, of course. Morgan had never understood why Emily thought he would. She must have been mistaken, suffered one of those funny blind spots married people often have. Or maybe she was talking about an earlier Leon; that possibility occurred to him. Morgan gazed off, seeing the last of someone he'd been hearing about for years. He sighed and pulled his nose.

"Well," he said, "if you're willing, I suppose I'll move her and Gina to some other town. I don't know."

"Do you want the apartment?"

"Your apartment?"

"Do you want the puppets, the equipment, the job? Want me to be the one to go?"

"Oh, well, no, I couldn't ask-"