Across the Creek by Jim Faulkner

Author:Jim Faulkner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University Press of Mississippi
Published: 1986-04-04T05:00:00+00:00

Colonel W. C. Falkner

John W.T. Falkner

Sailie Murry Williams, and Holland Wilkins

John Faulkner

Maud Falkner

John Faulkner home, Oxford

Dean Faulkner, brother of William Faulkner

Nan Faulkner

John Faulkner and William Faulkner

Murry Falkner, Malcolm Franklin, and Jim Faulkner

Jim Faulkner, Dean Faulkner, Murry Falkner,

Malcolm Franklin, and Jill Faulkner

Jim Faulkner

Dr. Little cleaned up the mess, wrapped my hand in a ball of white gauze about the size of a grapefruit, and put a sling around my neck to hold my arm level with my stomach so that blood wouldn’t run to my hand and make it throb. Then he thought he was through—but he wasn’t. Brother Will said to Dr. Little, “Now, Ashford, we are going to take him home to Lucille.” That’s what he called my mother, Dolly. “John’s not here. He’s surveying some road over in the Delta so the people can drive up and down it and ruin our hunting.”

Not being too sure of himself in a confrontation with Dolly, Dr. Little told Brother Will, “No, Bill, I’d rather stay here.”

In his soft firm voice, knowing that his wishes would be carried out, Brother Will said, “Ashford, you and Mother and I will take him home to his mother. You can explain this better than I can.”

Dr. Little didn’t argue. He just said, “All right, let’s go and get this over with.” He didn’t want to face Dolly, but he didn’t want to say no to Brother Will either, so we all got in Brother Will’s car and went to see my mother.

As we walked up the steps and across the porch to the front door I could see Dolly standing in the hall watching us. Brother Will opened the door and gently pushed me inside, then with his hand on Nannie’s elbow ushered her in, too. Dolly looked at me, then down at my hand, and asked, “What’s happened to you now?”

Brother Will turned to Dr. Little, who was holding back some, and said, “Now, Ashford, you go in and tell her about it.” Wanting to get the explanation over with, Dr. Little wasn’t very gentle or tactful. He blurted out, “Lucille, I’m going to do all I can to save his hand.” And with that he turned and left, Nannie and Brother Will right behind him, leaving me to explain to Dolly how I came to shoot myself in the hand. Dolly stood there a minute, somewhat taken aback by Dr. Littles abrupt statement. Then she took the note that he had given me telling us how to care for my hand till it got well.

By Thanksgiving, two and a half months later, my hand was as good as new, but Brother Will hadn’t been around since that September afternoon when they brought me home, even though it was just a few hundred yards between the back of our properties. The morning of the day after Thanksgiving he drove up our driveway and came in the house and told me that he wanted to take me to town and buy a new suit for me.

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