Lorrie Moore - 100 Years of the Best American Short Stories

Because Mamma and Papa didn’t know that Uncle Rodney had been handling his business all the time he was visiting us last summer, any more than the people in Mottstown knew that he was doing business last Christmas when I worked for him the first time and he paid me the quarter. Because he said that if he preferred to do business with ladies instead of men it wasn’t anybody’s business except his, not even Mr. Tucker’s. He said how I never went around telling people about Papa’s business and I said how everybody knew Papa was in the livery-stable business and so I didn’t have to tell them, and Uncle Rodney said Well, that was what half of the nickel was for and did I want to keep on making the nickels or did I want him to hire somebody else? So I would go on ahead and watch through Mr. Tucker’s fence until he came out to go to town and I would go along behind the fence to the corner and watch until Mr. Tucker was out of sight and then I would put my hat on top of the fence post and leave it there until I saw Mr. Tucker coming back. Only he never came back while I was there because Uncle Rodney would always be through before then, and he would come up and we would walk back home and he would tell Mamma how far we had walked that day and Mamma would say how good that was for Uncle Rodney’s health. So he just paid me a nickel at home. It wasn’t as much as the quarter when he was in business with the other lady in Mottstown Christmas, but that was just one time and he visited us all summer and so by that time I had a lot more than a quarter. And besides the other time was Christmas and he took a dose of Grandpa’s tonic before he paid me the quarter and so maybe this time it might be even a half a dollar. I couldn’t hardly wait.

II

But it got to be daylight at last and I put on my Sunday suit, and I would go to the front door and watch for the hack and then I would go to the kitchen and ask Rosie if it wasn’t almost time and she would tell me the train wasn’t even due for two hours yet. Only while she was telling me we heard the hack, and so I thought it was time for us to go and get on the train and it would be fine, and then we would go to Grandpa’s and then it would be tonight and then tomorrow and maybe it would be a half a dollar this time and Jesus it would be fine. Then Mamma came running out without even her hat on and she said how it was two hours yet and she wasn’t even dressed and John Paul said “Yessum,” but Papa sent him and Papa said for John Paul to tell Mamma that Aunt Louisa was here and for Mamma to hurry. So we put the basket of presents into the hack and I rode on the box with John Paul and Mamma hollering from inside the hack about Aunt Louisa, and John Paul said that Aunt Louisa had come in a hired buggy and Papa took her to the hotel to eat breakfast because she left Mottstown before daylight even. And so maybe Aunt Louisa had come to Jefferson to help Mamma and Papa get a present for Grandpa.

“Because we have one for everybody else,” I said, “I bought one for Uncle Rodney with my own money.”

Then John Paul began to laugh and I said, “Why?” and he said it was at the notion of me giving Uncle Rodney anything that he would want to use, and I said, “Why?” and John Paul said because I was shaped like a man, and I said, “Why?” and John Paul said he bet Papa would like to give Uncle Rodney a present without even waiting for Christmas, and I said, “What?” and John Paul said, “A job of work.” And I told John Paul how Uncle Rodney had been working all the time he was visiting us last summer, and John Paul quit laughing and said “Sho,” he reckoned anything a man kept at all the time, night and day both, he would call it work no matter how much fun it started out to be, and I said, “Anyway, Uncle Rodney works now, he works in the office of the Compress Association,” and John Paul laughed good then and said it would sholy take a whole association to compress Uncle Rodney. And then Mamma began to holler to go straight to the hotel, and John Paul said “Nome, Papa said to come straight to the livery stable and wait for him.” And so we went to the hotel and Aunt Louisa and Papa came out and Papa helped Aunt Louisa into the hack and Aunt Louisa began to cry and Mamma hollering, “Louisa! Louisa! What is it? What has happened?” and Papa saying, “Wait now. Wait. Remember the nigger,” and that meant John Paul, and so it must have been a present for Grandpa and it didn’t come.

And then we didn’t go on the train after all. We went to the stable and they already had the light road hack hitched up and waiting, and Mamma was crying now and saying how Papa never even had his Sunday clothes and Papa cussing now and saying, “Damn the clothes.” If we didn’t get to Uncle Rodney before the others caught him, Papa would just wear the clothes Uncle Rodney had on now. So we got into the road hack fast and Papa closed the curtains and then Mamma and Aunt Louisa could cry all right and Papa hollered to John Paul to go home and tell Rosie to pack his Sunday suit and take her to the train; anyway that would be fine for Rosie. So we didn’t go on the train but we went fast, with Papa driving and saying Didn’t anybody know where he was? and Aunt Louisa quit crying awhile and said how Uncle Rodney didn’t come to supper last night, but right after supper he came in and how Aunt Louisa had a terrible feeling as soon as she heard his step in the hall and how Uncle Rodney wouldn’t tell her until they were in his room and the door closed and then he said he must have two thousand dollars and Aunt Louisa said where in the world could she get two thousand dollars? and Uncle Rodney said, “Ask Fred”—that was Aunt Louisa’s husband—“and George”—that was Papa; “tell them they would have to dig it up,” and Aunt Louisa said she had that terrible feeling and she said, “Rodney! Rodney! What”—and Uncle Rodney begun to cuss and say, “Dammit, don’t start sniveling and crying now,” and Aunt Louisa said, “Rodney, what have you done now?” and then they both heard the knocking at the door and how Aunt Louisa looked at Uncle Rodney and she knew the truth before she even laid eyes on Mr. Pruitt and the sheriff, and how she said, “Don’t tell Pa! Keep it from Pa! It will kill him…”

“Who?” Papa said. “Mister who?”

“Mr. Pruitt,” Aunt Louisa said, crying again. “The president of the Compress Association. They moved to Mottstown last spring. You don’t know him.”

So she went down to the door and it was Mr. Pruitt and the sheriff. And how Aunt Louisa begged Mr. Pruitt for Grandpa’s sake and how she gave Mr. Pruitt her oath that Uncle Rodney would stay right there in the house until Papa could get there, and Mr. Pruitt said how he hated it to happen at Christmas too and so for Grandpa’s and Aunt Louisa’s sake he would give them until the day after Christmas if Aunt Louisa would promise him that Uncle Rodney would not try to leave Mottstown. And how Mr. Pruitt showed her with her own eyes the check with Grandpa’s name signed to it and how even Aunt Louisa could see that Grandpa’s name had been — and then Mamma said, “Louisa! Louisa! Remember Georgie!” and that was me, and Papa cussed too, hollering, “How in damnation do you expect to keep it from him? By hiding the newspapers?” and Aunt Louisa cried again and said how everybody was bound to know it, that she didn’t expect or hope that any of us could ever hold our heads up again, that all she hoped for was to keep it from Grandpa because it would kill him. She cried hard then and Papa had to stop at a branch and get down and soak his handkerchief for Mamma to wipe Aunt Louisa’s face with it and then Papa took the bottle of tonic out of the dash pocket and put a few drops on the handkerchief, and Aunt Louisa smelled it and then Papa took a dose of the tonic out of the bottle and Mamma said, “George!” and Papa drank some more of the tonic and then made like he was handing the bottle back for Mamma and Aunt Louisa to take a dose too and said, “I don’t blame you. If I was a woman in this family I’d take to drink too. Now let me get this bond business straight.”