Wolves of the Calla by Stephen King

Author:Stephen King [King, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3, pdf
ISBN: 9781416516934
Goodreads: 4978
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 2003-11-04T00:00:00+00:00

Five

Tian sat at one end of the long table, Zalia at the other. The twins weren’t shunted off to the ghetto of a “kiddie table” (as Susannah and her cousins always had been at family gatherings, and how she had hated that) but seated a-row on one side, with the older two flanking the younger pair. Heddon helped Lia; Hedda helped Lyman. Susannah and Eddie were seated side by side across from the kids, with one young giant to Susannah’s left and the other to Eddie’s right. The baby did fine first on his mother’s lap and then, when he grew bored with that, on his father’s. The old man sat next to Zalia, who served him, cut his meat small-small, and did indeed wipe his chin when the gravy ran down. Tian glowered at this in a sulky way which Eddie felt did him little credit, but he kept his mouth shut, except once to ask his grandfather if he wanted more bread.

“My arm still wuks if Ah do,” the old man said, and snatched up the bread-basket to prove it. He did this smartly for a gent of advanced years, then spoiled the impression of briskness by overturning the jam-cruet. “Slaggit!” he cried.

The four children looked at each other with round eyes, then covered their mouths and giggled. Tia threw back her head and honked at the sky. One of her elbows caught Eddie in the ribs and almost knocked him off his chair.

“Wish’ee wouldn’t speak so in front of the children,” Zalia said, righting the cruet.

“Cry’er pardon,” Gran-pere said. Eddie wondered if he would have managed such winning humility if his grandson had been the one to reprimand him.

“Let me help you to a little of that, Gran-pere,” Susannah said, taking the jam from Zalia. The old man watched her with moist, almost worshipful eyes.

“Ain’t seen a true brown woman in oh Ah’d have to say forty year,” Gran-pere told her. “Uster be they’d come on the lake-mart boats, but nummore.” When Gran-pere said boats, it came out butts.

“I hope it doesn’t come as too much of a shock to find out we’re still around,” Susannah said, and gave him a smile. The old fellow responded with a goaty, toothless grin.

The steak was tough but tasty, the corn almost as good as that in the meal Andy had prepared near the edge of the woods. The bowl of taters, although almost the size of a washbasin, needed to be refilled twice, the gravy boat three times, but to Eddie the true revelation was the rice. Zalia served three different kinds, and as far as Eddie was concerned, each one was better than the last. The Jaffordses, however, ate it almost absentmindedly, the way people drink water in a restaurant. The meal ended with an apple cobbler, and then the children were sent off to play. Gran-pere put on the finishing touch with a ringing belch. “Say thankee,” he told Zalia, and tapped his throat three times. “Fine as ever was, Zee.

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