WHEN THEY HAD COME OFF THE GRAVELED COUNTY ROAD and had turned north on the blacktop toward Holt, Maggie said: I can’t help but worry about him. What do you think he’s going to do now?
What can he do? Guthrie said. He’ll do what he has to.
You’ll help him, won’t you.
Of course I will. I’ll be out there tomorrow morning before school. And I’ll come out again after school lets out. I’ll bring Ike and Bobby with me. But he’s still going to be alone.
She’ll want to stay with him.
Victoria, you mean.
Yes. And Katie.
But that can’t last forever. You know that.
I know, Maggie said. It wouldn’t be good if it did. Not for him or them either. But I’m still worried about him.
They drove on along the blacktop. The narrow highway looked empty and forlorn ahead in the lights of the pickup. The wind blew across the flat open sandy ground, across the wheat fields and corn stubble and across the native pastures where dark herds of cattle grazed in the night. On either side of the highway farmhouses were set off by faint blue yardlights, the houses all scattered and isolated in the dark country, and far ahead down the highway the streetlights of Holt were a mere shimmer on the low horizon.
Maggie sat next to Guthrie in the cab and stared ahead at the center stripe in the road. I think I’ll ask Victoria if she wants to stay with me, she said. She won’t want to be alone in that house tonight.
She’s going to have to stay in it sometime.
Not tonight, Maggie said. She’s had enough to get used to for one day.
She’s not the only one, Guthrie said. That poor old son of a bitch. Think of him.
Yes, Maggie said. She looked at Guthrie and slid over nearer in the seat and sat close beside him. She put her hand on his thigh and left it there as they rode along in the dark. They passed the small square sign at the side of the road that announced they had entered the limits of Holt.
In town they turned left onto US 34 and turned again onto Main Street and parked in front of the hospital. They got out in the chill air and went inside and found that Victoria was still seated in the chair beside Raymond’s bed. Since they had left two hours earlier she had not moved. It was as if she would not even consider the possibility of moving, as if she thought by sitting beside his bed, refusing to move, she might prevent anything else from happening to him, or to anyone else she loved in this world. She was still holding Katie on her lap, and Raymond and the little girl were both asleep.
Then, hearing Maggie and Guthrie come into the room, Raymond woke. He looked up and it was clear, by what showed in his face, that he had just remembered. Oh Lord, he said. Oh Lord.
15
LATER, GUTHRIE AND MAGGIE LEFT THE ROOM AND WENT out, and Victoria stayed in the hospital and tended to Raymond and told him she would go to Maggie’s house after visiting hours were over.
The orderly brought Raymond a tray of supper but he didn’t want it. It tasted like nothing he cared for and he wasn’t hungry anyway. Victoria fed some of the applesauce to Katie and she took the spoon and ate it herself and afterward sat on the floor with pencils and crayons, drawing pictures until she grew tired, then Victoria put her in the empty bed next to the door and spread the light cotton blankets over her.
She’s all wore out, Raymond said.
I thought she would sleep in the car driving up here but she didn’t, Victoria said. She jabbered all the way.
Victoria was holding Raymond’s hand. She was sitting next to him as before in the chair beside his bed, the door half closed against the noise of people going by and the low murmuring of people talking out in the hallway.
How’s school going? he said. Still doing all right?
It’s okay. It doesn’t seem very important right now.
I know. But you’ll have to keep on.
I’m going to stay home for a while.