Susan walked Julia down the hall. They both stood still for a moment when they reached Abraham’s room. Then, Julia opened the door and peeked her head through the opening. Abraham lay in his bed with the knife that she had brought to him in one hand and a block of wood in the other. He whittled away at the edges. Julia stepped back into the hallway and gently closed the door.
“He seems fine now,” she said to Susan.
“Was he carving on one of those pieces of wood you gave him?” Susan asked. “I’m assuming that you’re the one who brought all of that in to him.”
“He seems content and in his right mind,” Julia answered.
“Do you know how big that piece of wood was when you brought it to him?”
“They were all the same size,” Julia said emphatically, “About four or five inches.”
“Did you see how much was left?” Susan asked.
“I didn’t get a good look,” Julia admitted.
“He’s been whittling those blocks of wood down to nothing. He’s been shaving off tiny pieces of wood until there’s nothing left at all, and then he gets another block and goes to work doing the same thing.”
Julia opened the door and peeked her head in again. She watched as Abraham ran the blade of the knife along the surface of the wood. She could see the concentration in his face as he removed a tiny shaving from the surface. She could see that the piece of wood that he held in his hands couldn’t have been more than an inch long and shaped like a robin’s egg. She closed the door again.
“It looks like he’s making some kind of a ball,” she said to Susan.
“It might be a ball now but I bet he’s already made a dog or a bird out of that same piece of wood. He’ll make the most intricate carvings but he just keeps whittling away at them until they’re completely unrecognizable, and then he keeps going until he’s holding air.
“But he’s not saying anything,” Julia observed.
“He only talks when someone’s in there. I hope he’s different with you because he knows you. If there’s anyone who can get him to see reason at this point it’s you.”
“Can I go in?” Julia asked.
Susan nodded. Julia opened the door for a third time and stepped into the room.
“Grandpa?” she said to get his attention.
Abraham turned to look at her. Julia noted something deep and penetrating in his eyes.
“What are you making,” Julia asked and pointed to the piece of wood.
“Meaningless,” Abraham answered.
“Meaningless?” she asked.
“Utterly meaningless.”
“I don’t understand,” Julia said.
“Everything is meaningless.”
Julia sat down on the bed next to him.
“They say you’re crazy,” she said soothingly.
“The dead who had already died are happier than the living who are still alive.”
“Grandpa? It’s me Julia.”
Abraham didn’t seem to hear her words, but went on as if she’d never interrupted. “But better than both is he who has not yet been, who has not seen the evil that is done under the sun.” He reached out his hand and placed it lightly on Julia’s stomach. Julia sat perfectly still, as if something in his eyes compelled her to stay motionless.
“No matter how long he lives, if he cannot enjoy his prosperity and does not receive proper burial, I say that a stillborn child is better off than he. It comes without meaning, it departs in darkness, and in darkness its name is shrouded.”
His voice came out in the same gruff, mumbling tone, that he’d always used, but the words seemed to jump out and grab Julia, they wouldn’t let her go. Julia put her hand over his and squeezed.
“Though it never saw the sun or knew anything,” Abraham’s voice seemed to gain momentum, “It has more rest than that man—even if he lives a thousand years twice over.”
“I understand,” Julia said
Abraham paused and smiled at her. “Do not all go to the same place?” he added.
Julia heard the door creak open and turned to see Susan walk into the room.
“You have to leave,” Susan said.
“When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom,” Abraham shouted. His face became more animated, and his eyes more distant.
Julia looked at him, his hand still on her stomach. She looked back to Susan and asked, “Do I have to leave now?”
“Whenever you’re ready, but he’ll keep talking until you leave.”
“But with humility comes wisdom,” Abraham repeated. “There are those who curse their fathers and do not bless their mothers,” he continued. “Bless their mothers, curse their fathers. Bless their mothers.”
“Can you listen to me? I just need someone to listen,” Julia said to her grandfather. He didn’t reply, and Julia assumed that his silence meant that he had agreed.
“You remember when I first heard your story about the man who died with the broken leg, and first started to read his book? I went straight through it, and I loved every word and every story, even if I couldn’t believe them. And I read about how we were supposed to love each other, not just that we were supposed to love each other, everyone knows we’re supposed to love, but how we were supposed to love each other, and I thought that it all sounded fun and good in a fairytale world.
“You should know that before all of that I made a mistake. Not the one I already told you about. It’s all related, but this first mistake was even worse. I’ve given this a lot of thought, Grandpa, and this first mistake was so much worse than the one I already told you about. The second one was a momentary lapse of judgment, an awful decision, but this first mistake was in my character. The second mistake was over in a moment, but this one is still inside of me.
Abraham lay motionless, his eyes glazed over, but Julia didn’t doubt that he heard every word.
“I guess I’ll get to the point. I had a friend who loved me. He still loves me. All the time I knew him I’d seen the way he, the way Jason, that’s his name, treated this old man, some crotchety old invalid who doesn’t deserve what little air he can manage to get into his cigarette stained lungs, much less someone like Jason. I’d always seen how kind Jason was for helping that old man, but for so long I thought that he was just stupid or naïve not to see how that old man was taking advantage of him. I even looked down on him because of it.
“But then he, Jason, said something to me about how we had to love people even when they were so completely unlovable, because that’s when they really need it. And I realized that he knew all along how horrible that man treated him, but he’d loved him anyway. He even liked being with that old man, and he never went to visit him because he felt obligated to go—it was never to appease his conscience. He really wanted to be there because he really loved that miserable old miser. All that time I thought he was crazy or naïve, or at the very least a little slow. So I pushed him away by finding a boyfriend. Even if he is naïve I wish that I could be too because,” Julia broke off. “I’m sorry. I’m ranting again.”
Here, Julia paused, not wanting to talk about Scott, but Abraham didn’t respond so she continued. “What kind of a sick person am I to see real love and mistake it for stupidity? Do you know what’s even worse? He loved me just like he loved that old man. Every day since I’ve known him he’s loved me like that, and I never understood. That’s why he asked me to take him back, even though we’d never really been dating. But that’s not important. You see he asked me to take him back, and I turned him down cold. I turned him away because I thought that only a desperate loser would ask a girl who, a girl like me, if she would take him back. But he didn’t ask because he was pathetic or because he needed me—to be honest I think he’s happier now without me. He asked me because he really loved me. And he still loves me, and I still can’t go to him even though I want to so badly. Why can’t we do the things we want to do?
“I want to go to him right now and tell him that
I love him too, and that we should get married tomorrow, but I can’t do it because there’s a weight on my chest. I feel dead inside. I’m so dead to love that I don’t know how to recognize it much less give it. We’re all so dead to love. How can I be with someone who loves me, if I can’t love him back? He deserves someone who will love him back doesn’t he?”
“No man knows,” Abraham said.
“Thank you for listening,” Julia answered. She turned to leave. Susan, who had stood inconspicuously in the back corner the whole time, opened the door for her.
“No man knows whether love or hate awaits him,” Abraham said as they walked out.
“Well?” Susan asked when they reached the hallway.
“He recognized me,” Julia said.
“How could you tell?”
Julia shook her head. “I don’t quite know how to express it, but I know he recognized me.”
“You should know that the doctor says that his ramblings aren’t entirely random,” Susan said. “He thinks that your grandfather hears words, and the part of his brain that is still active can associate them with other phrases that contain similar words. That’s why everything he says appears to be almost on topic, but a little off.”
“Will you walk me to the door,” Julia pleaded.
“Of course.”
“You haven’t slept much these last few days have you?” Susan asked.
“No, not lately.”
“How long ago did all of that happen with your boyfriend?”
“We were never dating,” Julia corrected. “But we might as well have been,” she added guiltily. “After his car accident, we were inseparable.”
“Accident?” Susan prompted.
“His mother was driving. It was around Christmas time. There was ice on a bridge. The car spun out and flipped into a ditch. He was in the hospital for over a week. My best friend knew him well, so we went to visit him. School was out for Christmas break, and we spent hours at the hospital every day until they released him. Ever since then we were, well you know.”
“Were you interested in him before the accident?” Susan asked.
“No. I don’t think I was,” Julia admitted. “It’s hard to remember those kinds of details clearly now.”
“But when he was in the hospital he fell in love with you?”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that. I feel bad for him. He shouldn’t suffer his whole life because I visited him in the hospital. Even afterwards when I was wretched to him, he didn’t stop loving me. He never stopped wanting to be with me no matter how I treated him. That’s love isn’t it, the way it’s supposed to be?” Julia looked at Susan expectantly waiting for her to confirm this statement.
“On his part.”
“What do you mean?” Julia asked.
“That sounds like love on his part. But it sounds to me like you agreed to be with him because you pitied him.”
Julia didn’t respond.
“But your grandfather said to me once, before he lost his senses, ‘don’t get me wrong, pityin’ a person’s a lot like lovin’ ‘em.’ He told me that pity’s like a baby step in the right direction, because it gets you thinking and caring about someone other than yourself, and that’s the hardest part about really loving others.”
Julia smiled at Susan’s impersonation of her grandfather.
“So why not go to him now if he still loves you?” Susan prodded.
“Because I don’t deserve him.”
“You know what he’d say about deserving.” Susan tilted her head to Abraham’s closed door. Julia looked at the door intently.
“I’m sorry,” Susan said. “I don’t mean to prod into your business. I just thought that since you came here to hear what he had to say that maybe you would want to be reminded.”
“I do,” Julia confirmed. “He’d say, ‘So what if you don’t deserve him. We don’t deserve a lot a’ the things we get, but it doesn’t mean that you weren’t meant ta enjoy them.’ ”
“Would he be right?” Susan asked.
“I hope so,” Julia answered as she walked out through the big glass double doors.
Chapter 7
Peter woke up and realized that he was alone. He wondered if he hadn’t imagined Julia and Thomas’s visit.
“Julia?” he called out.
Thomas came out of the bathroom. “She left,” Thomas said.
“But you’re here?” Peter asked.
“Yes, I’m here,” Thomas answered.
“Good. Come sit next to me. There’s something we need to talk about.”
Peter slid over on the couch to make room for Thomas.
“I’m not sitting on that couch. When are you going to get rid of that piece of junk?” Thomas said as if even the offer to sit next to his father offended him.
“No? Then you can use that box over there. It makes a good seat, no the one next to it with the brown label, yes, that one.”
Thomas pulled up the cardboard box and sat down.
“Do you love me?” Peter asked.
The question caught Thomas off guard.
“I know I’m your father, but do you love me?”
“I guess,” Thomas answered.
“You guess? You either love somebody or you don’t.”
“Fine, I love you.” Thomas spoke with some conviction in his voice.
“I know you do. I just needed to hear you say it.”
“I’m your son. How could you doubt that?” Thomas said, trying not to think about whether or not he doubted his own statement.
“Some children don’t love their parents. Those are the worst kind of people. People are punished for so many other crimes, but if there’s a heaven and a hell, children will be rewarded and punished for how much they loved their parents. Your sister should have thought about that before she betrayed me.”
“Julia didn’t betray anyone,” Thomas objected.
“No, she probably didn’t, but that’s what it feels like to me. That’s what it’ll always feel like to me, and so that makes her a traitor. I’ll never see her as anything else. Maybe I could accept the truth if I weren’t so weak. If I ever hit rock bottom and had to stand up on my own two feet, then I wouldn’t be weak anymore and I would accept the truth and know that she loves me. But even though I understand that she loves me, in my heart I’m weak, and so in my heart she’s betrayed me.”
“But she didn’t know what was going on,” Thomas pointed out, trying to appeal to reason.
“She should have known. Not knowing doesn’t make her less wrong. She should have known because that’s,” Peter lost his train of thought.
“Are you okay?”
“You have to know what it is you’re doing,” Peter said, picking up where he left off. “A man has to see where his actions will lead. History doesn’t judge anyone for what they intended to happen. If it did even I might be remembered one day as a good man. I only intended to do good. But you have to see ahead, and she didn’t, and that ruined me. She could have known. If she’d thought about it, she would have seen everything, but she didn’t think; she just acted and that makes her as guilty as anyone else. She betrayed her father, and heaven, if it exists, will always remember that.”
“Why did you want to talk?” Thomas asked.
“I’m giving you everything.”
“What?”
“I’m giving you everything I have.”
“No thanks. I’ve got enough debt,” Thomas said abruptly.
“I’m serious.” Peter spoke with such force that Thomas, for the first time felt compelled to take him seriously. “I’m giving you everything, and I have more than debt. You’ll see. I’m giving you everything she gives me. I’m not doing it because I love you or because I don’t want the responsibility. I’m doing it to get back at her. She thinks she can ruin me with her money, but I’ll give it all away and then, if I give enough, I’ll get better, and she’ll still be giving to me, ruining her own soul, and I’ll be saving mine.”
br /> “Why don’t you just refuse to take the money?” Thomas asked.
“I thought about that. Believe me I thought about it. That’s what I wanted to do, but I couldn’t. I tried to say no, but I couldn’t bring myself to turn it down. Not because I want money, but I wanted her to keep ruining her soul by giving it. So maybe we’re both ruining our soul—is that the correct way to say that, ruining the soul?—but, well I haven’t thought past that point. But you’ll take the money and make sure I’m taken care of. You would only give me things that were good for me, and nothing that I might want that would be harmful. The rest will be yours. That would be our agreement.”
“But we both know Julia would be better about sticking to that kind of an agreement,” Thomas suggested.
“You don’t want the responsibility?”
“It’s not that. I’m just saying that Julia would be better.”
“She’d never agree to it,” Peter mused.
“Why not? She’s changed a lot. She would do it to help you.”
“She would see through the intentions. She’d see the end of it. She wouldn’t have seen it before, but you’re right about her being changed. She’d see it all clearly now, and she wouldn’t agree.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“Maybe I’m not, but that’s my right isn’t it? Besides, she’s a traitor.”
“She loves you.”
“She betrayed me, and heaven can never forgive something like that. She betrayed her child, but heaven can forgive her for that. Why the surprised look. You didn’t think I knew about that.”
“What are you talking about?” Thomas asked, trying not to give away more than he needed to.
“I know more than people give me credit for,” Peter said coyly. “Maybe I got a phone call from someone. Then again, maybe a little bird flew into my window and told me all about it. Or maybe I heard it whispered into the wind when somebody thought they were all alone. We’re never alone. Have they taught you that up at the university? Even when there’s not another soul for miles and you feel hopelessly empty inside, you’re still not alone.”
“You’re rambling.”
“Why do you say that I’m rambling? Don’t you know about her child? She thought it was a son, and they say women sometimes have a sense about these things. Or maybe she never mentioned it, even to you. I shouldn’t have said anything. But that’s not why I’m giving you everything, and all you have to do is promise to love your father the way you’ve always loved me before. Or how does the saying go? Honor thy father. Do you promise to honor me? I’ve been thinking even more lately. They say this drink ruins people’s lives but just maybe it’s saved mine. It ruins life, but it clears away all the death too. It leaves you empty. Don’t ever touch it.”