"Of course they will."

"Just tell them-how it happened. Tell Ralph I send his mother all my love." He nodded. "And Andrew. Be sure and ask how Jay's father is." He nodded. "And let them know when-why; why we don't even know, do we? When the-what day he'll-be-the funeral, Andrew!"

"Not for sure. I told them I'd see them in the morning about all that."

"Well you'll just have to tell them we'll let them know as soon as we do. In plenty of time. To get here I mean."

"What's the number, Mary?"

"Number?"

"What is Ralph's telephone number?"

"I-can't remember. I guess I don't know for sure. You'll have to ask Central. It's always Jay who called."

"All right."

"It's LaFollette," she called, as he went into the hall.

"All right, Mary." He went out.

"And, Andrew."

"Yes, Mary?" He put his head in.

"Talk as quietly as you can. We don't want to wake the children."

"Yes, Mary."

"It's queer I don't know," she told the others. "But it was always Jay who called."

"Tell your mother what's up," her father advised, for she was looking inquiring. Mary leaned across her.

"Bathroom?" her mother whispered discreetly.

"No, Mama. He's gone to telephone Jay's brother."

Her mother nodded, and still extended her trumpet, but Mary had nothing to say.

"I hope he will extend all our most-heartfelt-sympathies," her mother said.

Mary nodded conspicuously. "I specially asked him to," she lied.

After a few moments Catherine gave up, and relaxed her trumpet between her withered hands into her lap.

Chapter 12

Andrew had shut the door but they could hear him, trying to talk quietly. He was talking, indeed, very quietly, close to the mouthpiece with his hand around it; even so, Mary and Hannah could hear most of what he said. They did not want to listen, but they couldn't help it.

He said, "I want to make a long-distance call, please," and the quietness of his voice made them listen the more carefully. It was full of covered danger.

"Hello? Hello, is this long distance? Long distance I want to call Ralph Follet, Ralph, Follet, F, O, L, L, E, T, no, Central, F, as in father-F, O,-have you got that?-L, L, ET. FOLLET. At LaFollette, Tennessee. No, I haven't. Thank you. I said, thank you."

"I don't see how his mother's going to bear it," Mary said, in a subdued voice. "I said I just don't see how Jay's mother is going to bear it," she told her mother.

"Her own husband right at death's door," she said to Hannah, "and now this. He was just the apple of her eye, that's all."

"Hello?"

"She has a world of grit," Hannah said.

"Ralph? Is this Ralph Follet?"

"If she hadn't she wouldn't be alive today," Mary said.

"Ralph, this is Andrew Lynch." They sat very still and made no pretense of not listening.

"Yes. Andrew. Ralph, I have to tell you about Jay." Hannah and Mary looked at each other. With everything that Andrew said, from then on, they realized in a sense which they had failed to before, that it had really happened and that it was final.

"Jay died tonight, Ralph.

"He's dead.

"He died in an auto accident, on the way home, out near Powell's Station. He was instantly killed."

Mary looked down into the whiskey and began to tremble.

"Instantly. I have a doctor's word for it. He couldn't even have known what hit him.

"It was concussion of the brain, Ralph. Concussion-of the brain. Just so hard a shock to the brain that it killed him instantly."

"They mustn't tell his father," Mary said suddenly. "It'll just kill his father."

"I don't see how they can avoid it," Hannah said. "Mary says they mustn't tell his, Jay's, father," Hannah told her brother. "In his condition the news might kill him. I told her I simply don't see how they can avoid it. They'll have to account for coming away to the funeral, after all."

"Just tell him he's hurt," Joel said.

Mary hurried into the hall. "Andrew," she whispered loudly. With a contortion of the face which terrified her he slapped his hand through the air at her as if she had been a mosquito. "Just that one place, on the point of the chin," he was saying. He turned to Mary, but the voice held him and he turned away. "He may have driven for miles that way. They don't know. They looked all around and quite a distance up the road-yes, of course with flashlights-and they couldn't find it." Again she heard the voice, squirming like a wire. "No, they haven't any idea. Except that there are some very rough stretches in those roads and Jay was driving very fast. Just a minute, Ralph." He covered the mouthpiece. "What is it, Mary?"

She could hear the distraught and squirming voice. Like a worm on a hook, she thought. Poor nasty fat thing! "Tell Ralph not to tell his father," she whispered. "In his condition it might kill him. If they have to say anything, about-coming down-tell him he's hurt." Andrew nodded.

"Ralph," he said. "Go away," he whispered, for she was lingering. "We just want to remind you, it might be very dangerous to your father" (by now Mary heard him through the door; she took her seat) "if he heard this now. Of course you and your mother'll know best but in case you have to explain, when you come away to the funeral, it might be better just to say that Jay's been hurt; not in danger. Don't you think?

"What did you say?

"Why no, we… "He's at Roberts'. I came in with him tonight.

"Why I'd suppose that…"

"Oh heavens!" Mary said, loudly enough that her father jumped. "Ralph's an undertaker!"

"Of course, I see your point, Ralph.

"No. Not yet.

"Well the saving of money is not a question in this…

"Look here, Ralph, will you just…

"Will you just hold the phone a minute, please? I really think we should leave this up to Mary, don't you?

"Of course she does. You too. I…

"I don't doubt it at all.

"No, I appreciate it very deeply, Ralph, and I know Mary will, but just let me consult her wishes on it, please. Just wait."

They heard his rapid walk and he thrust his infuriated face into the room.

"Ralph," he announced, "is an undertaker. I imagine you know what he wants. I told him it was up to you to decide."

"Good-God!" Joel exclaimed.

"Andrew, you'll have to tell him-I-just simply can't."

"He's blaming himself for Jay's… He wants to try to make up for it."

"How on earth can he blame himself!"

"For phoning Jay in the first place."

"What nonsense," Hannah said.

"But Jay's already at Ro…"

"Ralph says that's easily arranged. He can come down first thing tomorrow."

"Well, then we just can't. We just won't, no matter what. Tell him how very very much I appreciate it and thank him, but I just can't. Tell him I'm prostrated. I don't care what you tell him, you handle it, Andrew."

"I'll handle it." He went back to the phone. "Seems downright incestuous," Joel said.

His sister laughed harshly.

"Nothing important, Mama," Mary said. "Just-arrangements about the funeral."

Nothing important! Joel thought. People can only get through these things by being blind at least half the time. No: she was just cutting a corner for Catherine.

"When will the ceremony be held?"

Hannah stifled a laugh and Joel did not. Mary's face worked curiously with a smile as she told her mother, "We don't know yet. This was a question of where. Here or LaFollette?"

"I would have supposed that his home was Knoxville."

"We think so, too. That's how it's settled."

"That seems as it should be."

Andrew came in. "Well," he said, "it was either Ralph or you and I chose you."

"Oh, Andrew, you must have hurt him."

"There wasn't any way out He just wouldn't take no for an answer."

"He's going to make an awful case of it to his mother."