"Just Eddie, if it do ya," Susannah said with quick decisiveness. "I'll help you clear the table and wash the dishes."
"There's no need," Zalia said. Eddie thought the woman was sending Susannah a message with her eyes - Stay, he likes you - but Susannah either didn't see it or elected to ignore it.
"Not at all," she said, transferring herself to her wheelchair with the ease of long experience. "You'll talk to my man, won't you, sai Jaffords?"
"All that 'us long ago and by the way," the old man said, but he didn't look unwilling. "Don't know if Ah kin. My mind dun't hold a tale like it uster."
"But I'd hear what you do remember," Eddie said. "Every word."
Tia honked laughter as if this were the funniest thing she'd ever heard. Zal did likewise, then scooped the last bit of mashed potato out of the bowl with a hand nearly as big as a cutting board. Tian gave it a brisk smack. "Never do it, ye great galoot, how many times have'ee been told?"
"Arright," Gran-pere said. "Ah'd talk a bit if ye'd listen, boy. What else kin Ah do 'ith meself these days 'cept clabber? Help me git back on the porch, fur them steps is a strake easier comin down than they is goin up. And if ye'd fatch my pipe, daughter-girl, that'd do me fine, for a pipe helps a man think, so it does."
"Of course I will," Zalia said, ignoring another sour look from her husband. "Right away."
SIX
"This were all long ago, ye must ken," Gran-pere said once Zalia Jaffords had him settled in his rocker with a pillow at the small of his back and his pipe drawing comfortably. "I canna say for a certain if the Wolves have come twice since or three times, for although I were nineteen reaps on earth then, I've lost count of the years between."
In the northwest, the red line of sunset had gone a gorgeous ashes-of-roses shade. Tian was in the barn with the animals, aided by Heddon and Hedda. The younger twins were in the kitchen. The giants, Tia and Zalman, stood at the far edge of the dooryard, looking off toward the east, not speaking or moving. They might have been monoliths in a National Geographic photograph of Easter Island. Looking at them gave Eddie a moderate case of the creeps. Still, he counted his blessings. Gran-pere seemed relatively bright and aware, and although his accent was thick - almost a burlesque - he'd had no trouble following what the old man was saying, at least so far.
"I don't think the years between matter that much, sir," Eddie said.
Gran-pere's eyebrows went up. He uttered his rusty laugh. "Sir, yet! Been long and long sin' Ah heerd that! Ye must be from the northern folk!"
"I guess I am, at that," Eddie said.
Gran-pere lapsed into a long silence, looking at the fading sunset. Then he looked around at Eddie again with some surprise. "Did we eat yet? Wittles n rations?"
Eddie's heart sank. "Yes, sir. At the table on the other side of the house."
"Ah ask because if Ah'm gonna shoot some dirt, Ah usually shoot it d'recly after the night meal. Don't feel no urge, so Ah thought Ah'd ask."
"No. We ate."
"Ah. And what's your name?"
"Eddie Dean."
"Ah." The old man drew on his pipe. Twin curls of smoke drifted from his nose. "And the brownie's yours?" Eddie was about to ask for clarification when Gran-pere gave it. "The woman."
"Susannah. Yes, she's my wife."
"Ah."
"Sir... Gran-pere... the Wolves?" But Eddie no longer believed he was going to get anything from the old guy. Maybe Suze could -
"As Ah recall, there was four of us," Gran-pere said.
"Not five?"
"Nar, nar, although close enow so you could say a moit." His voice had become dry, matter-of-fact. The accent dropped away a little. "We 'us young and wild, didn't give a rat's red ass if we lived or died, do ya kennit. Just pissed enow to take a stand whether the rest of 'un said yes, no, or maybe. There 'us me... Pokey Slidell... who 'us my best friend... and there 'us Eamon Doolin and his wife, that redheaded Molly. She was the very devil when it came to throwin the dish."
"The dish?"
"Aye, the Sisters of Oriza throw it. Zee's one. Ah'll make her show'ee. They have plates sharpened all the way around except fer where the women hold on, do'ee ken. Nasty wittit, they are, aye! Make a man witta bah look right stupid. You ort to see."
Eddie made a mental note to tell Roland. He didn't know if there was anything to this dish-throwing or not, but he did know they were extremely short of weapons.
" 'Twas Molly killed the Wolf - "
"Not you?" Eddie was bemused, thinking of how truth and legend twisted together until there was no untangling them.
"Nar, nar, although" - Gran-pere's eyes gleamed - "Ah might have said 'twas me on one time or another, mayhap to loosen a young lady's knees when they'd otherwise have stuck together, d'ye ken?"
"I think so."
" 'Twas Red Molly did for it witter dish, that's the truth of it, but that's getting the cart out front of the horse. We seen their dust-cloud on the come. Then, mebbe six wheel outside of town, it split throg."
"What's that? I don't understand."