“A good place for it. My heart will do whatever it wants to, and it has my permission. Same for my lungs.” Then he said, “You might look in on Ames.”
Teddy stood there, lightly caressing the old man’s hair and face with the handkerchief. “How about some aspirin?”
“No harm in it, I suppose.”
Jack said, “I think I just used it up. I mean, I used it up.”
“I keep it in my bag. So that’s no problem. I’ll leave a bottle here for you.”
Jack put his hands to his face and laughed. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“No matter.” He glanced at Jack, took note of his color, the tremor in his injured hands. “There’s plenty for everybody.”
Glory went to the car, found the pebbly black bag in the passenger seat, and brought it into the kitchen. Opened, it smelled strongly of leather and rubbing alcohol. There were cotton balls and tongue depressors in glass bottles, and thermometers, and assorted pills and salves and syrups and the stethoscope and several bottles of aspirin. When Glory brought the glass of water and two tablets, Teddy looked at them and said, “Three.” He watched her prop her father up to help him swallow. Then he tucked him in again and said, “You’ll feel better when you’ve had some sleep.”
He went into the kitchen, filled a glass of water, and set it on the table with three aspirin tablets next to it. “I use a lot of the stuff myself,” he said, and held up his right hand. The fingers had begun to enlarge at the knuckles and twist out of line.
Jack said, “That’s hard.”
Teddy nodded. “I wish it was only my hands. You’re okay?”
“So far.”
“Glory?”
“I seem to be.”
“Well,” he said, “at least I know how tough the old fellow has been all these years. It’s no wonder he gets cross. How’s he eating?”
Glory said, “Not very well lately.”
Teddy nodded. “What are you making, Glory? Chicken and dumplings? He’ll enjoy that, if there’s anything in the world he can still enjoy.” He said, “It smells great. I’m sorry I can’t stay for supper. I have another doctor covering for me, but when people are in trouble they like to see a familiar face. So I’d better get back to work.” He hugged Glory, and he held out his hand to Jack. “It’s been wonderful to see you,” he said. “It really has.”
Jack said, “Yes. Thanks.” Then, “Teddy, you know, I’d like to ask you something, if you could spare a few more minutes. It’ll probably be a waste of your time. I know you have to leave.”
Teddy set his bag by his chair and sat down again at the table. “Are you kidding? I can spare the time! I see patients every day of my life. Seeing you is — very exceptional.” Then he said, “I’ll just make a few phone calls.”
JACK SAT DOWN AT THE TABLE, NEXT TO HIS BROTHER, SO he could speak softly. He said, “What does he want me to tell him? I mean, I know what he wants, but how do I say it?” He looked at Teddy. “The problem is, I’ll be lying. I thought that mattered. Well, I suppose it does matter. I’d know what to say otherwise.” He laughed. “I flattered myself that I had a scruple. But I was just making the poor old devil miserable for no reason. Except that I didn’t know how to end it. I realize that now. Glory said it would be all right. If I tried to, you know, talk to him.”
Teddy took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “So you want to put him at ease about the state of your soul. That’s a good idea, I think.”
Jack laughed. “That may be more than I can hope for. I’d like to tell him I believe in — something. Maybe not the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. But something.”
“Well.” Teddy toyed with his glasses. Then he sat back. “You know, I thought about the ministry for a while. Very seriously. But I had to face the fact that I wasn’t good at talking about these things. It wasn’t my calling, as they say. Have you spoken with Ames?”
Jack said, “I’ve tried, a couple of times. It doesn’t matter. I just thought I’d ask.”
“No, I don’t mean we should give up on this. I’m just reminding you of my limitations. This will take some effort.”
“You have to go.”
Teddy shook his head. “This is for the old fellow’s comfort. A legitimate medical concern.”
“All right. Thanks.”
There was a silence.
Teddy said, “It might help to take a few notes.” He reached up under his sweater and took a pen and a prescription pad from his shirt pocket. He put his glasses back on. Another silence. Then he wrote, in the upper-left-hand corner, Beliefs: Jack leaned over to read what he had written, and he laughed. Teddy tore off the page and crushed it into a little ball. “My thought was,” he said, “that if we found something you could say to him honestly, we could go on from there. We’d have something to start with.”
Jack said, “That’s a thought.” Then he said, “What would you say if you were in my situation? I mean, he has never asked you to — give him any assurances. Has he?”
Teddy shook his head. “I never left the church. I
