The Accidental Tourist

some long-ago suit, a worn shiny brown, and his overalls were faded to white at the knees. He stepped inside, skirting the dog, and shut the door behind him. Edward’s barks turned to whimpers. “My car is full of your mail,” Garner said. “Brenda said I ought to bring it to your sister and ask if she knew of your whereabouts. Also I promised your friend.”

“What friend?”

“Lady in pedal pushers.”

“I don’t know any lady in pedal pushers,” Macon said. He hadn’t realized pedal pushers still existed, even.

“Saw her standing on your porch, rattling your doorknob. Calling out, ‘Macon? You in there?’ Skinny little lady with hair. Looked to be in her twenties or so.”

“Well, I can’t imagine who it was.”

“Squinching in and shading her eyes.”

“Who could it be?”

“Tripping down the porch steps in her great tall pointy high heels.”

“The dog lady,” Macon said. “Jesus.”

“Kind of young, ain’t she?”

“I don’t even know her!”

“Going round the back of the house to call out, ‘Macon? Macon?’ ”

“I barely met her!”

“It was her that told me about the windle.”

“Windle?”

“Windle to the basement, all broke out. Fall sets in and it’ll turn your furnace on. Waste all kinds of energy.”

“Oh. Well. Yes, I suppose it would,” Macon said.

“We thought you might’ve been burglarized or something.”

Macon led the way to the dining room. “See, what happened,” he said, “I broke my leg and I came to live at my family’s till I could manage for myself again.”

“We didn’t see no ambulance though or nothing.”

“Well, I called my sister.”

“Sister’s a doctor?”

“Just to come and take me to the emergency room.”

“When Brenda broke her hip on the missing step,” Garner said, “she called the ambulance.”

“Well, I called my sister.”

“Brenda called the ambulance.”

They seemed to be stuck.

“I guess I ought to notify the post office about my mail,” Macon said finally. He lowered himself into his chair.

Garner pulled out another chair and sat down with his cap in his hands. He said, “I could just keep on bringing it.”

“No, I’ll have Rose notify them. Lord, all these bills must be coming due and so forth—”

“I could bring it just as easy.”

“Thanks anyway.”

“Why don’t I bring it.”

“To tell the truth,” Macon said, “I’m not so sure I’ll be going back there.”

This hadn’t occurred to him before. He placed his crutches together delicately, like a pair of chopsticks, and laid them on the floor beside his chair. “I might stay on here with my family,” he said.

“And give up that fine little house?”

“It’s kind of big for just one person.”

Garner frowned down at his cap. He put it on his head, changed his mind, and took it off again. “Look,” he said. “Back when me and Brenda were newlyweds we were awful together. Just awful. Couldn’t neither one of us stand the other, I’ll never know how we lasted.”

“We aren’t newlyweds, though,” Macon said. “We’ve been married twenty years.”

“Brenda and me did not speak to each other for very nearly every bit of nineteen and thirty-five,” Garner said. “January to August, nineteen and thirty-five. New Year’s Day till my summer vacation. Not a single blessed word.”

Macon’s attention was caught. “What,” he said, “not even ‘Pass the salt’? ‘Open the window’?”

“Not even that.”

“Well, how did you manage your daily life?”

“Mostly, she stayed over to her sister’s.”

“Oh, then.”

“The morning my vacation began, I felt so miserable I like to died. Thought to myself, ‘What am I doing, anyhow?’ Called long distance to Ocean City and booked a room for two. In those days long distance was some big deal, let me tell you. Took all these operators and so forth and it cost a mint. Then I packed some clothes for me and some clothes for Brenda and went on over to her sister’s house. Her sister says, ‘What do you want?’ She was the type that likes to see dissension. I walk right past her. Find Brenda in the living room, mending hose. Open my suitcase: ‘Look at here. Your sundress for dining in a seafood restaurant,’ I tell her. ‘Two pairs of shorts. Two blouses. Your swimsuit.’ She don’t even look at me. ‘Your bathrobe,’ I say. ‘Your nightgown you wore on our honeymoon.’ Acts like I’m not even there. ‘Brenda,’ I tell her. I say, ‘Brenda, I am nineteen years old and I’ll never be nineteen again. I’ll never be alive again. I mean this is the only life I get to go through, Brenda, so far as I know, and I’ve spent this great large chunk of it sitting alone in an empty apartment too proud to make up, too scared you’d say no, but even if you did say no it can’t be worse than what I got now. I’m the loneliest man in the world, Brenda, so please come to Ocean City with me.’ And Brenda, she lays down her mending and says, ‘Well, since you ask, but it looks to me like you forgot my bathing cap.’ And off we went.”

He sat back triumphantly in his chair. “So,” he said.

“So,” Macon said.

“So you get my point.”

“What point?”

“You have to let her know you need her.”

“See, Garner, I think we’ve gone beyond little things like letting her know I—”

“Don’t take this personally, Macon, but I got to level with you: There’s times when you’ve been sort of frustrating. I’m not talking about myself, mind; I understand. It’s just some of the others in the neighborhood, they’ve been put off a little. Take during your tragedy. I mean people like to offer help at occasions like that — send flowers and visit at the viewing hour and bring casseroles for after the service. Only you didn’t even have a service. Held a cremation, Lord God, somewheres off in Virginia without a word to anyone and come home directly. Peg Everett tells you she’s put you in her prayers and Sarah says, ‘Oh, bless you, Peg,’ but what do you say? You ask Peg if her son might care to take Ethan’s bike off your hands.”

Macon groaned. “Yes,” he said, “I never know how to behave at these times.”

“Then you mow your lawn like nothing has happened.”

“The grass did keep on growing, Garner.”

“We was all dying to do it for you.”

“Well, thanks,” Macon said, “but I enjoyed the work.”

“See what I mean?”

Macon said, “Now, wait. Just to insert some logic into this discussion—”

“That’s exactly what I mean!”

“You started out talking about Sarah. You’ve switched to how I disappoint the neighbors.”

“What’s the difference? You might not know this, Macon, but you come across as a person that charges ahead on your own somewhat. Just look at the way you walk! The way you, like, lunge,