Marilynne Robinson - Home

“I seem to be.”

“Well,” he said, “at least I know how tough the old fellow has been all these years. It’s no wonder he gets cross. How’s he eating?”

Glory said, “Not very well lately.”

Teddy nodded. “What are you making, Glory? Chicken and dumplings? He’ll enjoy that, if there’s anything in the world he can still enjoy.” He said, “It smells great. I’m sorry I can’t stay for supper. I have another doctor covering for me, but when people are in trouble they like to see a familiar face. So I’d better get back to work.” He hugged Glory, and he held out his hand to Jack. “It’s been wonderful to see you,” he said. “It really has.”

Jack said, “Yes. Thanks.” Then, “Teddy, you know, I’d like to ask you something, if you could spare a few more minutes. It’ll probably be a waste of your time. I know you have to leave.”

Teddy set his bag by his chair and sat down again at the table. “Are you kidding? I can spare the time! I see patients every day of my life. Seeing you is — very exceptional.” Then he said, “I’ll just make a few phone calls.”

JACK SAT DOWN AT THE TABLE, NEXT TO HIS BROTHER, SO he could speak softly. He said, “What does he want me to tell him? I mean, I know what he wants, but how do I say it?” He looked at Teddy. “The problem is, I’ll be lying. I thought that mattered. Well, I suppose it does matter. I’d know what to say otherwise.” He laughed. “I flattered myself that I had a scruple. But I was just making the poor old devil miserable for no reason. Except that I didn’t know how to end it. I realize that now. Glory said it would be all right. If I tried to, you know, talk to him.”

Teddy took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “So you want to put him at ease about the state of your soul. That’s a good idea, I think.”

Jack laughed. “That may be more than I can hope for. I’d like to tell him I believe in — something. Maybe not the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. But something.”

“Well.” Teddy toyed with his glasses. Then he sat back. “You know, I thought about the ministry for a while. Very seriously. But I had to face the fact that I wasn’t good at talking about these things. It wasn’t my calling, as they say. Have you spoken with Ames?”

Jack said, “I’ve tried, a couple of times. It doesn’t matter. I just thought I’d ask.”

“No, I don’t mean we should give up on this. I’m just reminding you of my limitations. This will take some effort.”

“You have to go.”

Teddy shook his head. “This is for the old fellow’s comfort. A legitimate medical concern.”

“All right. Thanks.”

There was a silence.

Teddy said, “It might help to take a few notes.” He reached up under his sweater and took a pen and a prescription pad from his shirt pocket. He put his glasses back on. Another silence. Then he wrote, in the upper-left-hand corner, Beliefs : Jack leaned over to read what he had written, and he laughed. Teddy tore off the page and crushed it into a little ball. “My thought was,” he said, “that if we found something you could say to him honestly, we could go on from there. We’d have something to start with.”

Jack said, “That’s a thought.” Then he said, “What would you say if you were in my situation? I mean, he has never asked you to — give him any assurances. Has he?”

Teddy shook his head. “I never left the church. I guess that was assurance enough.”

“But you still, I mean, you do—”

“Sure. I have patients in the polio hospital. Sometimes I pray about as often as I breathe.”

“That helps—”

“It helps me. I can do my work.”

Jack nodded.

Teddy said, “These past few years have been pretty hard. There aren’t many new cases anymore, thank God.”

“Yes, I’ve read about that vaccine they have now.”

Glory said, “Lila’s afraid of it. She saw an article that said it sometimes causes polio.”

“Well, in a few cases it has. It’s probably safe for her to wait a year, till they’ve improved it. I haven’t vaccinated my own kids yet. I send them to the country in the summer, to Corinne’s folks. That’s where they are now.”

Jack said, “So the safest thing is just to get them out of the city.”

“I think so. For the time being.”

Jack picked up the crumpled page and twisted it, pondering.

Teddy said, “But we’ve gotten off the subject here.”

“Oh. Sorry. I guess my mind wandered.”

“Do you want to go on?”

Jack said, “Yes. Let’s go on.” Glory could see that look of calculation in his face again, that oddly illusionless hope.

After a minute Teddy said, “I’ll have to have some help with this.”

“Sorry.” Jack cleared his throat. “Have you thought of bringing your kids to Gilead? Would this be a good place for them?”

“Sure. It’s just not a good situation, with Dad the way he is.”

Jack nodded. He seemed to reflect a minute. Then he stretched and ran his fingers through his hair. “I do wish to God I were religious, Teddy. That’s the Lord’s truth.”

Teddy said, “Well, that seems like a beginning.”

“Yes. If I were religious some things might be easier. Possible, at least.”

Under Wishes to be religious , Teddy wrote to make things easier .

Jack looked at the pad and laughed. “I’m not so sure that is a beginning. It looks to me like a heresy of some sort.”

Teddy tore off the page and balled it up. “I didn’t know we’d be worried about that. Interesting.” Jack smiled and shrugged. “Okay,” Teddy said. “What things would be easier?”

“Well, it’s hard to talk to people. Religious people.”

“Dad, for example.”

“For example.”

“Me.”

Jack laughed. “Another example. Ames.”

“Yes. Can you tell me why it’s hard? I’ve never really understood.”

Jack said, “Sometimes it seems as though I’m in one universe and you’re in another. All of you.” He shrugged. Then he glanced at Glory, as if he might want to apologize.

Teddy considered him for a moment with gentle objectivity. “How long have you felt that way?”

“Well, Dr. Boughton, I may always have felt that way. If I can trust the tales of my stormy infancy.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. There are things I think it may have helped me with. Helped me understand a little.” He said, “There are separate universes, you know. I happen to have mine to myself. There are others. At least I know that.”

After a moment Teddy said, “Well, when we began the conversation you said you intended to lie to the Reverend. That was your word, ‘lie.’ And I said I respected that decision, in the circumstances. And I also respect the fact that it was a hard decision for you to make. I really do. Then I complicated things by suggesting that we might find something for you to say that would be — not altogether false. Now I think it might just be best to tell him you believe in God. That you’ve given the matter serious thought, and you are persuaded of the truth of Scripture. Something like that. Short and to the point.”

Jack nodded. “Do you think there’s any chance he’ll believe me?”

“I know he’ll want to believe you.”

Jack smiled. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I don’t exactly look like I’ve been washed in the blood of the Lamb recently, do I? He probably knows — the state I was in a few hours ago. He probably has some idea.”

“Well, I think we have to remember, you know, that time is short. In a few more weeks he might not even hear what you say to him.”

Jack said, “All right. Yes. I believe in God and I am persuaded of the truth of the Scriptures. After serious thought. I can do that. When I’ve had some rest.”