Eventide

I’m all right, honey, he said. This ain’t the worst of it.

I know it isn’t. But you’re in a lot of physical pain too. I know you are.

Maybe a little, he said.

Across the room DJ stood beside his grandfather’s bed, listening to them all talking. He knew the Guthrie boys and didn’t like them seeing him like this in the hospital room. His grandfather was dozing and he kept making noises in his throat and coughing and mumbling strangely. DJ had said nothing to Ike and Bobby when they came in but stood silently beside the bed, with his back turned to them, and his grandfather kept going in and out of his fitful sleep, with the nose prongs in his nose, the needle still taped to his hand, and then the old man would wake and look around in confusion until he remembered where he was, that he was still in the hospital, and the boy would lean over and ask quietly if he wanted something and the old man would shake his head and look away and drift off to sleep again, then DJ would stand and wait, listening to them talk across the room, waiting for them to leave.



AT EIGHT-THIRTY THE NURSE CAME IN TO ANNOUNCE THAT visiting hours were over. Guthrie and Maggie and the two boys told Raymond good night and went out. Victoria leaned over the bed, holding her thick black hair out of the way, and kissed Raymond on the cheek and gave him a hug, then he patted her hand and she carried the little girl out of the room.

DJ’s grandfather was awake now. You better go too, he said to the boy. You’ll do all right by yourself, won’t you?

Yes sir.

You can come back tomorrow after school.

The boy looked at him and nodded and went out. Victoria was waiting in the hall, with Katie asleep in her arms. Is somebody expecting you at home? she said.

No.

Aren’t you afraid to be by yourself?

No. I’m used to it.

Let me give you a ride anyhow. Will you do that?

I don’t want to take you out of your way.

It’ll only take five minutes. You don’t want to walk home in the dark.

I’ve done it before.

But you don’t want to do it tonight.

They went down the hall and out the front door onto the sidewalk. It was cold outside but there was no wind. The streetlights had come on and overhead the stars winked clean and hard. Victoria strapped the sleeping child into her car seat in the back and they drove off up Main Street. You’ll have to tell me where to go, she said.

It’s across the tracks. Then you turn left.

She looked across at him where he was sitting close to the door with his hand on the handle. I would’ve thought you knew the two Guthrie boys. They’re your age, aren’t they?

I know them a little. I know Bobby anyway. He’s in the same class with me. Fifth grade.

Aren’t you two friends? You didn’t say anything to each other.

I just know him from school.

He seems like a nice boy. Maybe you could get to be friends.

We might. I don’t know.

I hope so. You shouldn’t be alone too much. I know what that’s like, from when I was your age and later on in high school. This can be a hard place to be alone in. Well, I suppose any place is.

I guess, he said.

In the backseat Katie had begun to fuss, reaching her hands out, trying to touch her mother. Just a minute, sweetheart, Victoria said. She watched her daughter in the rearview mirror. It’ll just be a few minutes. The little girl drew her hands back and began to whimper.

The boy turned to look at her. Does she cry all the time?

No, she almost never cries. She’s not really crying now. She’s just tired. There’s nothing for her to do at the hospital. We’ve been there for three days.

Kent Haruf's books