Bring Everybody: Stories

Chapter 13 - Bring Everyody

BOOKCOMP, Inc. — University of Massachusetts Press / Page 129 / Printer Proof / Bring Everybody / Yates 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 [129], (129) Lines: 1851 to 1859 ——— 0.4pt PgVar ——— Normal Page PgEnds: TEX [129], (129) Bring Everybody When two of Leonard Dirkson’s friends died within three months of each other—his only two friends, he told himself— Leonard began looking to his own mortality with moderate urgency , even while recognizing the predictability of such a reaction. His medical checkup argued for increasing dietary fiber and drinking more water while cutting back on coffee and martinis. He resolved to give it a try, although considering all the fuss of the exam, he was disappointed; really, it was nothing but what you’d get in some newspaper column. More irksome, as spring approached— his sixty-ninth on God’s green earth, as he was given to saying— more irksome was how he kept recalling the affection displayed at the memorial services, first for Lester, his colleague at the county museum, and then only five weeks later for Beatrice, his daughter’s piano teacher years ago and his wife’s bridge partner right up to the end. In fact, at the service someone had spoken figuratively about Bea folding her cards and leaving the table. So many people from all over town—people involved in charity and historical preservation, that sort of thing—had, it turned out, known Bea and counted on her. “What will we ever do without her?” was the refrain. Beatrice—and Leonard hadn’t known this—was the driving force behind so many fund-raisers. Similarly, a surprising number of painters had benefited from Lester’s encouragement and promotion through that small gallery he’d owned on Vermont Street. They stepped forth to speak of the man’s generosity and – 129 – BOOKCOMP, Inc. — University of Massachusetts Press / Page 130 / Printer Proof / Bring Everybody / Yates Bring Everybody – 130 – 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 [130], (130) Lines: 1859 to 1862 ——— 0.0pt PgVar ——— Normal Page PgEnds: TEX [130], (130) love of art, all agreeing it was part of his larger love of life. Such a welling of affection. Inevitable that Leonard began wondering who would come to his funeral and what they would say. He’d lived in this community as long as Bea, probably longer than Les, but it didn’t seem like it—even to him. “Leonard usually kept to himself,” he imagined someone saying, “but he had a ready smile, and we will miss him.” Good God, how dismissive that sounded! Others would be looking at their watches. There wouldn’t be anything substantive to add. And since Les and Bea had been his best friends, he couldn’t count on them to carry it. Best friends, and here it turns out he hadn’t even known how they spent much of their lives. Leonard was sitting in one of two metal lawn chairs flanking a table piled with the Sunday paper. Vera was off to a crafts fair with the neighbors. She’d been understanding when he declined to go along, left him some decaf in a thermos. He poured more of it as he regarded the perfection of the freshly cut winter rye grass and Vera’s roses in first bloom after the pruning. Six months into retirement, he was enjoying everything about it except these dismal projections for his own funeral. He poured the rest of the coffee into the mug Vera had picked out for him at last year’s fair. Best tell her not to plan a service. Have the Neptune Society feed him to the sharks. Even better would be to move from this community and die some place where no one knew him. Strangers’ indifference to his passing wouldn’t embarrass them and wouldn’t embarrass his family. Not that any strangers would take note long enough to register indifference. He sighed aggressively, stood, and walked to the rose bed for a closer look at the blooms. Like an old elephant, he’d prefer simply slipping away to some secluded spot when the time came. But knowing when the time was coming, that...