Main Street was almost vacant as they drove along past the small individual houses and on north into the brief business district under the bright lights. Only two or three cars were out on the street. All the stores were closed and darkened for the night except the tavern. To the east when they crossed the railroad tracks the whitewashed concrete cylinders of the grain elevator rose up massively out of the ground, shadowy and silent. They drove on north.
Here, the boy said. This is where you turn.
They came into the quiet street and he pointed out the little house.
Is this where you live?
Yes, ma’am.
Really? I used to live near here. Before I had Katie. This was my old neighborhood. Do you like it here?
He looked at her. It’s just where I live, he said. He opened the car door and started to get out.
Just a minute, she said. I don’t know what you’d think of it, but maybe you could come out and stay with us tonight. So you wouldn’t have to be here alone.
Out with you?
Yes. Out in the country. You’d like it out there.
He shrugged. I don’t know.
All right, she said. She smiled at him. I’ll just wait until you’re inside and get the light on.
Thanks for the ride, he said.
He shut the car door and started up the narrow sidewalk. He looked very small and much alone, approaching the dark house with only the streetlamp shining from the corner illuminating the front of the house. He opened the door and went inside and then a light came on. She thought he would come to one of the windows and wave to her, but he didn’t.
AT THE HOSPITAL THE NURSE ON NIGHTSHIFT CAME INTO the room and Raymond was still awake. She was a good-looking woman in her late forties, with short brown hair and very blue eyes. She bent over the old man in the bed next to the door, who was asleep on his side and still breathing the oxygen through the prongs in his nose, his face red and damp. She checked the level of the fluid in the plastic bags hanging from the stand, then came over to Raymond’s bed and looked at him with his head raised up on the pillow, watching her. Can’t you sleep? she said.
No.
Is your leg hurting you?
Not now. I reckon it’ll start again directly.
How about your chest?
It’s all right. He looked up at her. What’s your name? he said. I thought I knew all these nurses in here by now.
I just came back on duty, she said. I’m Linda.
What’s your last name?
May.
Linda May.
That’s right. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. McPheron. Is there anything I can get for you right now?
I could take some of that water there.
Let me get you a fresh pitcher. This isn’t very cold. She left the room and came back with a pitcher filled with ice, and poured water in the glass and held it out to him. He drew on the straw and swallowed, then drew again and nodded and she set the glass on the bedside table.
He looked across the room. How do you think he’s doing over there?
Mr. Kephart? All right, I think. He’ll probably recover. Older people get pneumonia and don’t do well sometimes, but he seems pretty strong. Of course I haven’t seen him awake yet. But when we changed shifts they said he was doing okay.
She smoothed the blanket, making sure to keep it free of his casted leg. Try and get some sleep now, she said.
Oh, I don’t sleep much, he said.
People are always coming in and waking you up for one thing or another, aren’t they.
I don’t like that light shining.
I’ll shut the door so it’s darker. Would that be better?
It might. He looked at her face. It don’t matter. I’m getting out of here tomorrow anyhow.
Oh? I hadn’t heard that.
Yeah. I am.
You’d have to ask the doctor.
They’re burying my brother tomorrow. I won’t be in here for that.
Oh, I’m sorry. Still, I think you’ll need to talk to the doctor anyway.
He better get here early then, Raymond said. I’ll be gone before noon.