The Kill-Off

'Now, goddammit,' I said, when I was able to speak. 'Why-what the hell-'

'Henry! Henry! Don't you use that language in this house!' Lily said. 'But-it's-it's crazy! Outrageous! Why, I've always been-I mean I've been county attorney since-' 'Very well,' she said. 'Very well, Henry. But don't forget that I warned you.' She got up and started to clear off the table. I hadn't finished breakfast yet-although I certainly didn't feel like eating any more-but she went right ahead, regardless.

The bulge under her apron seemed larger today. I glanced quickly away from it, as her eyes shifted toward me. It was very annoying, that tumor. Having to live with it constantly, and yet never daring to look at it, let alone to discuss it. Perhaps it wouldn't have been for most men, but when you have trained yourself as I have-when you are used to observing and…

I observed that her glasses had an unusually high sparkle this morning. Obviously, then-I was immediately aware-there must be some dust on them. She couldn't keep her glasses clean, and yet she was trying to pass herself off as a prophet!

I was about to make some pointed reference to these facts. But she left for the kitchen at that moment with a load of dishes, and when she returned I decided it wasn't wise. After all, you don't cure a trouble by adding to it. That's always been my policy, at least, and it's worked out very well. If-

Out of a job! Lose the election!

She was seated at the table again. She looked at me, nodded slowly, as if I had spoken out loud.

'Yes, Henry. Yes. And if you had any brains at all, you wouldn't need me to tell you so.'

'Now, see here, Lily,' I said. 'I-'

'Any brains at all, Henry. Or if you were even capable of listening. Hearing anything besides the sound of your own voice or your own thoughts, anything that might deflate the largest ego in the sixteenth largest county in the state. You're a fool, Henry. You're a-'

'I am, am I?' I said. 'Well, I guess I know how to keep my glasses clean, anyway!'

The glasses flickered and flashed. Her eyes squeezed shut behind them for a moment. Then, she opened them again, keeping them narrowed; and her nostrils twitched and flared. And I knew the explosion was coming.

'Listen to me, Henry. What I'm saying is not for myself. I don't expect you to have any consideration for me, your own sister who has practically given up her life for you, taken care of you since you were wet behind the ears. I don't expect you to care if I'm so slandered and gossiped about that I'm almost ashamed to go out in public. I'm only concerned about you, as I've always been, and that's why I'm saying you are going to lose the election unless you get up a little spunk, and act like a man for a change instead of a fat, blind, stupid, egotistical jellyfish!'

She paused, breathing heavily, her bosom heaving up and down. I was going to say something back to her, but I decided it wasn't worthwhile. I couldn't lose the election. I-why, I just couldn't. And when a person can't do something…

'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, you can, Henry. You know I'm right. You know you don't have good sense. You-shut up when I'm speaking to you, Henry! Henry! '

'I'm not saying anything,' I said. 'All I was going to say was-'

'Nothing that would make any sense, that's what you were going to say. You were going to say that no one in this town pays any attention to Luane Devore, but they do, all right. Perhaps they don't believe what she says, but they remember it-and they wonder about it- and when a man is a spineless incompetent to begin with, it doesn't take a deal of wondering to dump him out of his sinecure. At any rate, you seem to have forgotten that it takes more than the town vote to elect you. You have to have the farm people, and they don't know that when Luane Devore says you- we-that she's lying!'

'Well, they will,' I said. 'After all, you've had that tumor quite a while now, and when you don't have a-I mean, when nothing happens, why-'

I swallowed back the words. I looked down at my plate, tried to keep my eyes there, but something seemed to pull them back up.

She stared at me, silently. She sat there, staring and waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting and waiting.

I threw my napkin on the table, and jumped up.

I marched to the telephone, and asked for the Devore residence. There was a lot of clicking and clattering; then the operator said that the Devore line was out of order.

'Out of order, eh?' I said. 'Well-'

Lily took the phone out of my hands. She said, 'Did you say the Devore line was out of order, operator? Thank you, very much.'

She hung up and put the phone back on its stand. It seemed to me that she owed me an apology for doubting my word, but naturally I didn't get one. Instead she asked me what I was going to do about the line being out of order.

'Why, I'm going to fix it, of course!' I said. 'I'm a telephone repair man, ain't I?'

'Please-' She put her fingers to her forehead. 'Please spare me your attempts at humor, Henry.'

'Well, I'll wait until it's in order. Naturally,' I said. 'I'll call her later on from the office.'

'But suppose it isn't repaired today?' She shook her head. 'I think it would be best to go and see her, Henry. Lay down the law to her in person. Tell her that if she doesn't stop her lies, and if she doesn't issue a public retraction immediately, you'll have her indicted for criminal slander.'

'But-but, look,' I said. 'I can't do that. I mean, going out and jumping all over a sick old woman, and-and it wouldn't look right! No matter what she's done, why she's a woman, a sick old woman, and I'm a man-'

'Are you?' Lily said. 'Then, why don't you act like one?'

'Anyway, it's-it's probably illegal,' I said. 'Might get into a lot of trouble. I'm a public official. If I use my public office in a personal matter, why-All right!' I said. 'Go ahead and shake your head! You're doggone good at telling someone else what to do, but when it comes to doing it yourself that's something else again, ain't it?'

'Very well, Henry.' She turned away from me. 'Could I impose on you to the extent of driving me out there?'

'Why, certainly,' I said. 'I'm always gl-what?'

'I'll see her myself. I'll guarantee that by the time I'm through, she'll have told her last lie. And if you don't want to drive me out, I'll walk. I'll-'

Suddenly, she was crying, weeping wildly. Suddenly, all the coldness and calmness were gone, and she was a different woman.

It was like that time years ago, when we were kids out on the farm. She'd taken me down in the meadow that day to search out some hens' nests. We came to one, half-filled with eggs, and just as she reached for it, a rattlesnake reared up on the opposite side. And what happened then- my God!

She busted out bawling, but it wasn't the usual kind. Not the way people cry when they're frightened or hurt or something like that. It was, well, wild-crazy. More like real mean cussing than bawling. It scared hell out of me, a six-year-old kid, and I guess it did the same to the snake, because he tried to whip away. But she wouldn't let him. She grabbed up that deadly rattler in her bare hands, and yanked him in two! Then she threw the pieces down, and began to jump on them. Bawling in that wild, crazy way. And she didn't stop until there wasn't enough left of that snake to make a grease spot.

I've never forgotten how she acted that day. I don't think I ever will. If I'd had any idea that my harmless little remark at breakfast would have started anything like this…