A Prayer for the Dying by Stewart O'Nan

Author:Stewart O'Nan
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

6

All morning the quarantine brings town out of their houses. To challenge it, to complain of the decision, dispute its usefulness, its legality. They come to you with questions you can’t answer, though out of politeness—out of duty—you try. Byron Merrill, Bill Tilton—people you haven’t seen in weeks. They crowd into the jail, clog the sidewalk. They’ve already been to Doc, they say; like children polling their parents, they’re hoping you’ll give them a different answer, make an exception to the rule.

“We’re all in the same boat,” you say, knowing it won’t placate them.

How long, they all want to know.

“One week, maybe two.”

“What are we supposed to do till then?” Fenton says. “I’ve got business to tend to.”

“Then tend to it,” you say.

“How am I supposed to do that? I’ve got a shipment of coffee sitting in Shawano I can’t get to.”

“Have them ship it.”

It’ll cost too much to ship.

Mrs. Bagwell’s daughter is stuck in Shawano.

Carl Huebner was off on business, and now he can’t get back in.

And George Peck, down to Rockford buying brick for the mill.

Why can’t they come in if they want to? It’s their risk, no one else’s. Long as no one’s going out, what’s the difference?

“It’s for the good of everyone,” you say, as if logic might satisfy them. You want to say it’s not your fault, yet a week ago you were ready to close the roads. Which is it?

“I see you got Marta and your daughter all nice and locked up,” Mrs. Bagwell accuses. “Taking no chances with them.”

“No,” you say, “and I’d suggest you do the same.”

“That’s no kind of advice,” Fenton says.

You turn on him, shoulders squared, like you mean to fight, then stop yourself. “It’s the right thing and you know it.” Then to everyone: “Two weeks is not a long time.”

Grumbling, an obscenity that—admit it—shocks you. No one believes you. Two weeks is a lifetime.

“Go on,” you say, “I’ve got my own work,” and herd them out, waving your hat around like they’re cattle.

You’re right, you think, it is the right thing. Why do you have to justify it?

Not all of them leave you alone. Emmett Nelligan won’t let go of his sister Esther coming to visit. She came all the way from Ohio just to have Bart stop her at the line. She’s in a boardinghouse in Shawano, terrified; she doesn’t know anyone there.

You try to ignore him, collect everything from your desk before you leave. You need to wire Bart, check the fire line, look in on Doc.

“Every day it’s costing money to put her up,” he says.

You stop and look at him. “You don’t honestly want her in the middle of all this, do you?”

“I’m not sick,” he argues. “I can’t see what harm it would do—”

“Don’t,” you say. “There’s no point in it.”

“I don’t want her to be alone there,” he says, and what can you say but you’re sorry? You understand him completely.

Go over the telegraph office and have Harlow tell Bart that everyone’s unhappy.

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