The Heart is a Lonely Hunter - Carson McCullers [139]
So this cannot truly be the end.’
He had first come into the house with her whom he loved.
And Daisy was dressed in her bridal gown and wore a white lace veil. Her skin was the beautiful color of dark honey and her laughter was sweet. At night he had shut himself in the bright room to study alone. He had tried to cogitate and to discipline himself to study. But with Daisy near him there was a strong desire in him that would not go away with study. So sometimes he surrendered to these feelings, and again he bit his lips and meditated with the books throughout the night.
And then there were Hamilton and Karl Marx and William and Portia. All lost. No one remained.
And Madyben and Benny Mae. And Benedine Madine and Mady Copeland. Those who carried his name. And those whom he had exhorted. But out of the thousands of them where was there one to whom he could entrust the mission and then take ease? , All of his life he had known it strongly. He had known the reason for his working and was sure in his heart because he knew each day what lay ahead of him. He would go with his bag from house to house, and on all things he would talk to them and patiently explain. And then in the night he would be happy in the knowledge that the day had been a day of purpose. And even without Daisy and Hamilton and Karl Marx and William and Portia he could sit by the stove alone and take joy from this knowledge.
He would drink a pot of turnip-green liquor and eat a pone of cornbread. A deep feeling of satisfaction would be in him because the day was good.
There were thousands of such times of satisfaction. But what had been their meaning? Out of all the years he could think of no work of lasting value.
After a while the door to the hall was opened and Portia came in. ‘I reckon I going to have to dress you like a baby,’ she said.
‘Here your shoes and socks. Let me take off your bedroom shoes and put them on. We got to get gone from here pretty soon.’
‘Why have you done this to me?’ he asked bitterly.
‘What I done to you now?’
‘You know full well that I do not want to leave. You pressed me into saying yes when I was in no fit condition to make a decision. I wish to remain where I have always been, and you know it.’
‘Listen to you carry on!’ Portia said angrily. ‘You done grumbled so much that I nearly worn out. You done fumed and fussed so that I right shamed for you.’
‘Pshaw! Say what you will. You only come before me like a gnat. I know what I wish and will not be pestered into doing that which is wrong.’ Portia took off his bedroom shoes and unrolled a pair of clean black cotton socks. ‘Father, less us quit this here argument. Us have all done the best we know how. It entirely the best plan for you to go out with Grandpapa and Hamilton and Buddy. They going to take good care of you and you going to get well.’
‘No, I will not,’ said Doctor Copeland. ‘But I would have recovered here. I know it.’
‘Who you think could pay the note on this here house? How you think us could feed you? Who you think could take care you here? ‘ ‘I have always managed, and I can manage yet.’
‘You just trying to be contrary.’
‘Pshaw! You come before me like a gnat. And I ignore you.’
‘That certainly is a nice way to talk to me while I trying to put on your shoes and socks.’
‘I am sorry. Forgive me, Daughter.’
‘Course you sorry,’ she said. ‘Course we both sorry. Us can’t afford to quarrel. And besides, once we get you settled on the farm you going to like it. They got the prettiest vegetable garden I ever seen. Make my mouth slobber to think about it. And chickens and two breed sows and eighteen peach trees. You just going to be crazy about it there. I sure do wish it was me could get a chance to go.’
‘I wish so, too.’
‘How come you so determined to grieve?’
‘I just feel that I have failed,’ he said.
‘How you mean you done failed?