Walker Percy - The Last Gentleman

“What?” said the priest, bracketing his glasses with his free hand. “Oh, yes. Certainly.” He started for the washstand, thought better of it, turned and left the room. Pausing in the doorway, he turned again. “If you need me for anything else, I’d be glad to—”

“We won’t,” said Sutter curtly, managing to embarrass the engineer after all.

The engineer followed the priest out into the corridor and thanked him. He wondered if one was expected to “make an offering,” but he had no notion of how to hand money over except to hand it over. He contented himself with wringing the priest’s hand warmly and thanking him twice.

It took him two blocks at top walking speed toovertake Sutter, who strode along with his hands in his pockets, bent forward as if he were bucking a strong wind.

“Where are you going?” the engineer asked in an unexpectedly loud voice.

“What?” said Sutter, giving a start. “Oh, to the ranch.”

“The ranch,” repeated the engineer absently. When Sutter started to leave, he held up his hand. “Wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“What happened back there?”

“In the hospital room? You were there.”

“I know, but what did you think? I could tell you were thinking something.”

“Do you have to know what I think before you know what you think?”

“That does not mean that I would necessarily agree with you,” said the engineer, trying to see Sutter’s expression. Suddenly the engineer felt hisface flush. “No, you’re right. I don’t need to know what you think. Wait. Did you say ranch?”

“Yes.” Still he could not make out Sutter’s face.

“Do you mean your ranch?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I have a date.”

“A date?” His heart began to thud. “No, wait. Please don’t go to the ranch!” Without realizing that he had done so, he had taken hold of Sutter’s sleeve.

Sutter angrily shook himself free. “What in God’s name do you want now?”

“Oh. I — what about the family?”

“What about them?”

“I mean, meeting them. Val should be here tonight and the rest tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“They won’t know. Shall I meet them? Perhaps I could even call the Vaughts and catch them before they leave.”

“Good. Fine.”

“Then I’ll call the airport and see what the plane schedule is.”

“Very good.”

“What about the arrangements?”

“Arrangements? You make them. You do very well.”

Sutter reached the Edsel and got into the driver’s seat but made no sign that the engineer should follow.

“All right. Wait—” cried the engineer when the old buckety Ford motor caught and roared (he wondered if Sutter had ever changed the oil or whether it had oil).

“What?”

He peered down into the dark car.

“Dr. Vaught — ah—”

“What?”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to have a drink.”

“No. I mean, what are you going to do?”

There was no answer. All the engineer could see was that Sutter had put his hands on the wheel at six o’clock and nine o’clock, left elbow on the window sill, a style of driving which the engineer faintly recalled from the 1940’s when Delta sports used to pick up their dates and drive to the Marion Parlor on Front Street.

“Are you going home, I mean.”

“I told you, Barrett, I’m going to the ranch.”

“Dr. Vaught, don’t leave me.”

“What did you say?”

“Dr. Vaught, listen to me. I’m going to do what I told you I planned to do.”

“I know. You told me.”

“Dr. Vaught, I want you to come back with me.”

“Why? To make this contribution you speak of?”

“Dr. Vaught, I need you. I, Will Barrett—” and he actually pointed to himself lest there be a mistake, “—need you and want you to come back. I need you more than Jamie needed you. Jamie had Val too.”

Sutter laughed. “You kill me, Barrett.”

“Yes sir.” He waited.

“I’ll think about it. Here’s some money for the arrangements, as you call them.”

“Oh, no, sir.” He backed away. “I have plenty.”

“Anything else?”

“No sir.”

But as the Edsel took off, spavined and sprung, sunk at one corner and flatulent in its muffler, spuriously elegant and unsound, like a Negro’s car, a fake Ford, a final question did occur to him and he took off after it.

“Wait,” he shouted in a dead run.

The Edsel paused, sighed, and stopped.

Strength flowed like oil into his muscles and he ran with great joyous ten-foot antelope bounds.

The Edsel waited for him.