The Memory of Old Jack by Wendell Berry

Author:Wendell Berry
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 1974-08-25T07:00:00+00:00

Now he can see Mat again as he was when he was twenty-six or twenty-seven years old—a little flighty

yet, a little too impatient, a little too easily upset or discouraged, but a good man, and the time was coming when the two of them would speak and work together as equals. He can see Mat's beloved good face as it was then: big ears that stuck out, nose a little hooked like the Beechums' noses, his father's clear, understanding eyes, hat tilted jauntily onto the back of his head; a grin—maybe a little uneasy, maybe a little defiant— turns up the corners of his mouth as he watches Jack's eyes for some sign of what he thinks.

And again Old Jack raises and opens his hand.

Eight: Exile

Mrs. Hendrick has already stepped twice from the kitchen to the screen door and called sharply "Supper!" and though Old Jack heard her both times he instantly forgot. Or rather, that crisp command fell upon the current of his thought like a dry leaf on the surface of a deeply flowing stream, to be borne forty years away. It is not until she deigns to come out onto the porch and stand before him, arms akimbo, that her summons penetrates the half-lit closet of the old man's present consciousness, and she has the satisfaction of seeing him look up at her, his eyes deeply shaded and withdrawn beneath the bill of his old cap.

"Good evening, Suzy."

"Supper's ready. I already called you twice."

"I thank you. Pm a coming."

To make sure of him this time she waits until he has stood and then follows him in through the door and across the diminutive lobby and into the dining room, where the rest of the derelict company—four old women and two other old men—are waiting.

It has been many years since Mrs. Hendrick's hotel has had a guest in the usual sense. The roads have long been too good and the means of transportation too swift

for any self-respecting traveler or politician or salesman to have to spend the night at any such out-of-the-way place as Port William. And it has no doubt been even longer since any self-respecting wayfarer would have looked with relief or favor upon the accommodations afforded by the frugal Mrs. Hendrick. The hotel's clients these days are permanent residents—that is, of course, within the limits of mortality. It is understood that they will be there until they die, or until they are carried away to die in a harness of tubes and catheters in some hospital bed, for they are the ancient widows and widowers of the neighborhood, too old or infirm to remain alone in their isolated farmhouses, either childless or unwilling or unable or uninvited to move in with their children who have gone off to jobs in the city. Their fate is to perish at modest rent under the care of Mrs. Hendrick, who, to give her her due of credit, does keep them warm and well fed, and who does keep a responsible eye on them.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.