Ford County (34 page)

Because of its complexity, the rumor got little traction and almost sank under its own weight. When people whispered about, say, who’s seeing someone else’s wife, the issue was fairly straightforward and easily grasped. But most folks had no experience with generation-skipping trusts and inheritances and other lawyerly creations, and the details became far more muddled than usual. By the time Dell finished with it at the coffee shop, the boy was due a fortune, of which Emporia would get the most, and his family was threatening to sue.

Only at the barbershop did a voice of reason ask the obvious. “If he’s got money, why is he dyin’ away in an old shack down in Lowtown?”

Whereupon an argument ensued about how much money he actually had. The majority view was that he had little, but was counting on the inheritance from the trusts. One brave soul mocked the others, claiming it was all nonsense, claiming to know for a fact that the entire Keane clan was “as poor as Job’s turkey.”

“Look at the old house,” he said. “They’re too poor to paint and too proud to whitewash.”

In late June, the heat rose to a new level, and Adrian kept to himself in his room, near the noisy air conditioner that barely worked. The fevers arrived with greater frequency, and he simply could not survive the heavy, suffocating air on the front porch. In his room, he wore nothing but his underwear, which was often soaked with sweat. He read Faulkner and wrote dozens of letters to friends from his other life. And he slept, off and on, throughout the day. A nurse stopped by every third day for a quick exam and another supply of pills, all of which he was now flushing down the toilet.

Emporia worked hard to put some fat on him, but he had no appetite. Since she had never cooked for a family, she had limited experience in the kitchen. Her small garden produced enough tomatoes, squashes, peas, butter beans, and cantaloupes to keep her fed throughout the year, and Adrian gamely tried to enjoy the generous meals she prepared. She convinced him to eat corn bread—though it contained butter, milk, and eggs. She had never met a person who refused meat, fish, chicken, and dairy products,
and more than once she asked, “All them folks in California eat like that?”

“No, but there are a lot of vegetarians.”

“You was raised better.”

“Let’s not talk about the way I was raised, Emporia. My entire childhood was a nightmare.”

She set the table three times a day, at the hours he chose, and they worked at prolonging the meals. Adrian knew it was important for her to make sure he was properly fed, and he ate as much as he could. It was obvious, though, that after two weeks he was still losing weight.

It was during lunch that the preacher called. Emporia, as always, answered the phone, which hung on a wall in the kitchen. Adrian was certainly permitted to use the phone, but he rarely did. There was no one to talk to in Clanton. He did not call anyone in his family, and they did not call him. There were friends in San Francisco, but they were almost all gone now, and he did not want to hear their voices.

“Good afternoon, Reverend,” she said, then turned away and stretched the cord as far as possible. They talked briefly, and she hung up with a pleasant “I’ll see you at three o’clock.” She sat down and immediately took a bite of corn bread.

“So how’s the reverend?” Adrian asked.

“Fine, I reckon.”

“He’s coming by at three this afternoon?”

“No. I’ll run by the church. Said he wants to talk about somethin’.”

“Any idea what?”

“You’re right curious these days.”

“Well, Emporia, I’ve lived in Lowtown for two weeks now, and I’ve realized that everybody’s business belongs to everybody else. It’s almost impolite not to pry a little. Plus, gay people are nosier than straight people. Did you know that?”

“Ain’t never heard such.”

“It’s true. It’s a proven fact. So why won’t the reverend stop by and see you? Isn’t that part of his job, making house calls, checking on his flock, welcoming newcomers like me? I saw him three days ago over on the porch chatting with Doris and Herman. Kept looking over here like he might catch a fever. You don’t like him, do you?”

“I liked the other man better.”

“Me too. I’m not going to church with you, Emporia, so please don’t ask me again.”

“I’ve only asked you twice.”

“Yes, and I’ve said thanks. It’s very nice of you, but I have no interest in going to your church or any other. Not sure I’d be too welcome anywhere these days.”

She had no comment.

“I had this dream the other night. There was a revival service at a church, white church, here in Clanton, one of those rowdy hell-fire-and-brimstone affairs with people rolling in the aisles and fainting and the choir singing ‘Shall We Gather at the River’ at full throttle, and the preacher was at the altar begging and pleading for all sinners to come on down and surrender all. You get the picture.”

“Ever’ Sunday.”

“And I walked through the door, dressed in white, looking
worse than I look now, and I started down the aisle toward the preacher. He had this look of terror on his face, couldn’t say a word. The choir stopped mid-stanza. Everyone froze as I kept walking down the aisle, which took a long time. Finally, someone yelled, ‘It’s him! The guy with AIDS!’ Somebody else yelled, ‘Run!’ And all hell broke loose. There was a stampede. Mothers grabbed their children. I kept walking down the aisle. Men jumped out of windows. I kept walking. These really large women in gold choir robes were falling all over their fat asses trying to get out of the sanctuary. I kept walking toward the preacher, and finally, just as I got to him, I reached out my hand. He didn’t move. He couldn’t speak. The church was empty, not a sound.” Adrian took a sip of tea and wiped his forehead.

“Go on. What happened then?”

“Don’t know, I woke up, and I had a good laugh. Dreams can be very real. I guess some sinners are too far gone.”

“That’s not what the Bible says.”

“Thank you, Emporia. And thank you for lunch. I need to lie down now.”

At 3:00 p.m., Emporia met with Reverend Biler in his office at the church. Such a meeting in such a place could only mean trouble, and not long after the initial pleasantries the reverend got to the point, or at least to one of them. “I hear you’ve been seen in Willie Ray’s whiskey store.”

This was no surprise whatsoever, and Emporia was ready. “I’m seventy-five years old, at least thirty years older than you, and if I choose to buy medication for a friend, then I’ll do so.”

“Medication?”

“That’s what he calls it, and I told his family he’d be properly medicated.”

“Call it whatever you want, Emporia, but the elders are upset over this. One of our senior ladies seen in a whiskey store. What kind of example is that for our youth?”

“It’s my job, and this job won’t last much longer.”

“There’s a rumor you’ve invited him to worship with us.”

Thank you, Doris, Emporia thought but didn’t say. Doris was the only person she’d told about inviting Adrian to church. “I invite everyone to worship with us, Reverend. That’s what you want. That’s what the Bible says.”

“Well, this is a little different.”

“Don’t worry. He ain’t comin’.”

“Praise the Lord. The wages of sin is death, Emporia, and this young man is paying for his sins.”

“Yes, he is.”

“And how safe are you, Emporia? This disease is sweeping across our country, across the world. It’s highly contagious, and, to be honest with you, there are grave concerns in our community over your safety. Why are you running this risk? Why take this chance? It seems so unlike you.”

“The nurse tells me I’m safe. I keep him clean and fed, and medicated, and I wear rubber gloves when I do his laundry. The virus is spread through intercourse and blood, both of which are being avoided.” She smiled. He did not.

He folded his hands together and set them on the desk, very piouslike. His face was hard when he said, “Some of our members are uneasy around you.”

She had anticipated everything but that, and when she realized the meaning of it, she was speechless.

“You touch what he touches. You breathe the same air, eat the same food, drink the same water and tea, and God knows what else these days. You clean his clothes and laundry and bedsheets, and you wear rubber gloves because of the virus. Shouldn’t that tell you how great the danger is, Emporia? Then you bring the germs here, to the house of the Lord.”

“I’m safe, Reverend. I know I’m safe.”

“Maybe so, but perception is everything. Some of your brothers and sisters here think you’re crazy for doing this, and they are afraid.”

“Someone has to care for him.”

“These are wealthy white people, Emporia.”

“He has no one else.”

“We’ll not argue that. My concern is my church.”

“It’s my church too. I was here long before you came, and now you’re askin’ me to stay away?”

“I want you to consider a leave of absence, until he passes.”

Minutes dragged by without a word. Emporia, her eyes wet but her head high, stared through a window and watched the leaves of a tree. Biler remained motionless and studied his hands. When she finally stood, she said, “Then let’s call it a leave of absence, Reverend. It’ll start now, and it’ll be over when I decide it’s over. And while I’m absent, I’ll walk in the whiskey store anytime I choose, and you and your little spies can gossip all you want.”

He was following her to the door. “Don’t overreact, Emporia. We all love you.”

“I feel the love.”

“And we’ll be prayin’ for you, and for him.”

“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear that.”

The lawyer’s name was Fred Mays, and his was the only name in the yellow pages that Adrian recognized. Adrian spoke briefly with him on the phone, then wrote him a long letter. At four o’clock on a Friday afternoon Mays and a secretary parked in front of the pink house. Mays unloaded his briefcase. He also unloaded a case of wine from the nicer liquor store on the other side of the tracks. Emporia walked across the street to visit Doris so the legal matters could be tended to in private.

Contrary to the varied rumors floating around, Adrian had nothing in the way of assets. There was no mysterious trust created by long-dead relatives. The will prepared by Mays required all of one page, with the remnants of Adrian’s dwindling supply of cash going to Emporia. The second document, and the more important one, set forth the burial arrangements. When everything was signed and notarized, Mays hung around for a glass of wine and some idle talk about Clanton. The glass of wine didn’t last long. Mays and his secretary seemed anxious to conclude the meeting. They left, good-byes and nods but no handshakes, and as soon as they were back in the office on the square, they were describing the boy’s dreadful condition.

The following Sunday, Emporia complained of a headache and announced she would not go to church. It was raining, and the weather gave her another excuse to stay home. They ate biscuits on the porch and watched the storm.

“How’s your headache?” Adrian asked.

“It’s better. Thank you.”

“You told me once you haven’t missed church in over forty years. Why are you staying home today?”

“I don’t feel too good, Adrian. It’s that simple.”

“You and the preacher have a falling-out?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I said no.”

“You haven’t been yourself since you met with him the other day. I think he said something to offend you, and I think it was something to do with me. Doris comes over less and less. Herman, never. Isabelle hasn’t stopped by in a week. The phone doesn’t ring as much. Now you’re staying away from church. If you ask me, I’d say Lowtown is giving you the cold shoulder, and it’s all because of me.”

She didn’t argue. How could she? He was telling the truth, and any objection from her would ring false.

Thunder rattled the windows and the wind turned, blowing rain onto the porch. They went inside, Emporia to the kitchen, Adrian to his room, with the door closed. He stripped to his underwear and reclined on the bed. He was almost finished with
As I Lay Dying
, Faulkner’s fifth novel and one Adrian had seriously
considered skipping, for obvious reasons. But he found it much more accessible than the others, and unexpectedly humorous. He finished it in an hour, and fell asleep.