Final Decisions

Mountain Cemetty Final Decisions by Carolyn Bertram Matildawatched Ephraim as he satin his straight-backed chair with his head down, whittling slowly and methodically. Shavings covered a portion of the unwaxed wooden floor and the hearth of the oldfashioned fireplace. His faded overalls showed signs ofmany rough days that the patches couldn't conceal. His face, at leastthe part that was visible through his thick gray beard, was chalky white andhe was weak and getting weaker each day. He'd had a bad heart for several years and had undergone bypass surgery two years ago. The doctors had told him that they had done all they could do. They said that six months would be a long life for him. He just wasn't strong enough to survive another operation. Ephraim had accepted that as fact and haa continued his life pretty much as he had lived for 62 years. ButMatilda, beingthehard-shellBaptist that she was, had done everything short of begging Ephraim to mend his ways to Erepare for eternity. She had prayed for im morning, noon and night throughout their 33 years of marriage. Ephraim, in his quiet, good-natured way, always shrugged off her pleas with, "Aw, Tildy, if they ain't no fox hounds and chewing terbacker in heaven you know I'd feel out of place." Since the doctors had predictedhis short life span, Matilda was all the more concerned . She dreaded the lonely days that lay ahead. Butthe mental picture she had ofEphraimburningandburningbutnever burning up made her shudder and the crease in her forehead deepened. She 49 nervously pushed back the stray locks of herdrab gray hairthatwas pulledbackinto a bun. The past few weeks Ephraim had seemed to have a lot on his mind. Every time Matilda got her hopes up that he was ready to make a change, he would suddenly decide to go fox hunting. That was his remedy for everything. "When a man needs to think, they ain't nothin' like whittlin' or a good fox race to sort things out." Today was different. Matilda saw him openhismouth to speak atleasttwice, then he would stare into the fire. This wasn't like him at all, he always spoke his mind without thinking of the consequences. She wanted to help him relax so she made several attempts at casual conversation . "Birdie says old Jake Thatcher's been feelin' poorly lately. 'Course after 91 years I guess a body's bound to start havin' some aches and pains." Immediately, she knew this was the wrong subject to bring up. Again, she tried with, "They're givin' snow for tomorrow. Up to three inches, the weatherman says." Ephraim only nodded and continued whittling. Finally, Matilda decided to get to the point. "Ephraim, what's on your mind? You seem a thousand miles away." She was half-expecting his familiar answer of "Aw, Tildy, you know I don't have enough up there to have too much on my mind.' But instead he stammered, "Tildy, I— I—I got to talk to you. This is the hardest thingI've everdone inmy life, butI've got to do it." Sheheldherbreath, silentlyprayingthat he was ready to repent, as he continued, "You've been preachin' to me foryears to change my ways and until a while back, I didn't rightly know why. I've been good to you and I've tried to do right by my neighbors and—" "Oh, Ephraim," Matilda said. She thought the day she had prayed for had finally came. "Do you wantme to go fetch Brother Jessie to have prayer with you?" "Tildy, hear me out. I've told you a thousand times I don't believe in heaven or hell. Maybe they is and maybe they ain't, but it won't be much longer 'til I find out for myself." Matilda sat down in a chair beside him, her tall body aching with disappointment. She swallowed several times, fighting the stinging tears. He continued slowly, "You're all time tellin' me aboutthis beautifulplace you're goin' to live in in the hereafter. Well, I want to live out my short days here." "What are you tryin' to tell me, Ephraim...