She hands it to Charles. “Gone to dinner, 7:15, return approximately 7:45,” it says. He should like Pete. He nods and hands it back.
“Charles, they don’t believe me, except for the young doctor who knows I’m telling the truth, about the woman in the bed next to me dying.”
“I’m not dead, I’m here,” Mrs. DeLillo says. She lights a cigarette.
“She was discharged, I heard,” Susan says.
“With a blanket over her head, honey?”
“I don’t know.… I wasn’t there,” Susan says.
Their mother takes the yellow ribbon out of her hair. “When they put this on me, I said, ‘Oh, the yellow ribbon of the old oak tree.’ Everything you say to them here they think you’re crazy.”
“It’s a song,” Charles says stupidly. He looks at his watch. It is 7:40.
“Here’s my family,” Pete says, coming up in back of Charles and Susan.
“I’m Mrs. DeLillo,” Mrs. DeLillo says.
“I should have called to save you the trip. Mommy’s coming home tomorrow. The doctor says it was a mistake to have Mommy brought here, but since Mommy’s so weak, she might as well rest up one place as another.”
“And I’ve met my fine friend Mrs. DeLillo,” she says.
“Thank you,” Mrs. DeLillo says. Mrs. DeLillo has a green ribbon in her hair. Her hair is too short to hide the ribbon. You can see it going around both sides of her head.
“My Pete,” Clara says. Pete is sweating. He looks like he’s been drinking.
“Mighty cold and snowy out,” Pete says. “I saw it start, sitting down in the cafeteria.”
“Do you have snow tires?” Susan asks. She is better at making conversation with Pete than he is.
“ Studded snow tires,” Pete says.
“All my family take care of themselves,” Clara says.
“Today was my first day back at work,” Charles says.
Pete slaps him on the back. “Thatta boy,” he says.
“You don’t drive in the rush hour, do you?” Clara says.
“I have to drive in the rush hour. I have to be there at nine o’clock.”
“Oh, Mommy knows the way things are,” Pete says, slapping Charles again. “Nobody’s going to put one over on Mommy.”
“She’s a sensible woman,” Mrs. DeLillo says.
“Charles, when I came here the nurse reported something I said to the doctor, the young doctor …”
“What a fine fellow,” Pete interrupts.
“And he came to me and he said, ‘You know that song about the yellow ribbon on the old oak tree, don’t you?’ Charles, I was very sick in the hospital, but now that I’m not so weak I see that I’m not so sick. I told the young doctor that I was much improved, and if it hadn’t been for the pain, you have my word of honor, Charles, I would not have medicated myself with the laxatives.”
“They give you laxatives here,” Mrs. DeLillo says.
“Talk to the doctor,” Clara says.
“The doctor?” Susan says.
“He will tell you—the young one—that my word is good, and it was an accident that I made the mistake of taking the laxatives in the bathroom.”
“Well,” Pete says. “Let’s not dwell on past mistakes.”
“Did you get to see the football game Sunday?” Susan asks Pete.
“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”
Susan seems to have run out of things to talk to Pete about.
“But I wish I had,” Pete says.
Charles looks at Pete’s shoes. They are shiny brown cordovans.
“What did the doctor say about a few twirls?” Pete says.
“Take them,” Clara answers.
“Ya-hoo!” Pete says. He says it very quietly; it sounds absurd not being shouted.
“What has happened to Wilbur Mills?” she asks.
“He showed up in Boston where Fanne Foxe was stripping and got on stage drunk,” Pete says, brightening.
“I knew that. I mean, how is he now?”
“A wife cheater,” Mrs. DiLillo says. “You know the saying: ‘Wife cheater, child beater.’ ”
“He’s still there, as far as I know,” Susan says. “In Walter Reed.”
“I read that that place was a firetrap,” Charles says.
“You be
“Charles, they don’t believe me, except for the young doctor who knows I’m telling the truth, about the woman in the bed next to me dying.”
“I’m not dead, I’m here,” Mrs. DeLillo says. She lights a cigarette.
“She was discharged, I heard,” Susan says.
“With a blanket over her head, honey?”
“I don’t know.… I wasn’t there,” Susan says.
Their mother takes the yellow ribbon out of her hair. “When they put this on me, I said, ‘Oh, the yellow ribbon of the old oak tree.’ Everything you say to them here they think you’re crazy.”
“It’s a song,” Charles says stupidly. He looks at his watch. It is 7:40.
“Here’s my family,” Pete says, coming up in back of Charles and Susan.
“I’m Mrs. DeLillo,” Mrs. DeLillo says.
“I should have called to save you the trip. Mommy’s coming home tomorrow. The doctor says it was a mistake to have Mommy brought here, but since Mommy’s so weak, she might as well rest up one place as another.”
“And I’ve met my fine friend Mrs. DeLillo,” she says.
“Thank you,” Mrs. DeLillo says. Mrs. DeLillo has a green ribbon in her hair. Her hair is too short to hide the ribbon. You can see it going around both sides of her head.
“My Pete,” Clara says. Pete is sweating. He looks like he’s been drinking.
“Mighty cold and snowy out,” Pete says. “I saw it start, sitting down in the cafeteria.”
“Do you have snow tires?” Susan asks. She is better at making conversation with Pete than he is.
“ Studded snow tires,” Pete says.
“All my family take care of themselves,” Clara says.
“Today was my first day back at work,” Charles says.
Pete slaps him on the back. “Thatta boy,” he says.
“You don’t drive in the rush hour, do you?” Clara says.
“I have to drive in the rush hour. I have to be there at nine o’clock.”
“Oh, Mommy knows the way things are,” Pete says, slapping Charles again. “Nobody’s going to put one over on Mommy.”
“She’s a sensible woman,” Mrs. DeLillo says.
“Charles, when I came here the nurse reported something I said to the doctor, the young doctor …”
“What a fine fellow,” Pete interrupts.
“And he came to me and he said, ‘You know that song about the yellow ribbon on the old oak tree, don’t you?’ Charles, I was very sick in the hospital, but now that I’m not so weak I see that I’m not so sick. I told the young doctor that I was much improved, and if it hadn’t been for the pain, you have my word of honor, Charles, I would not have medicated myself with the laxatives.”
“They give you laxatives here,” Mrs. DeLillo says.
“Talk to the doctor,” Clara says.
“The doctor?” Susan says.
“He will tell you—the young one—that my word is good, and it was an accident that I made the mistake of taking the laxatives in the bathroom.”
“Well,” Pete says. “Let’s not dwell on past mistakes.”
“Did you get to see the football game Sunday?” Susan asks Pete.
“No,” he says. “I didn’t.”
Susan seems to have run out of things to talk to Pete about.
“But I wish I had,” Pete says.
Charles looks at Pete’s shoes. They are shiny brown cordovans.
“What did the doctor say about a few twirls?” Pete says.
“Take them,” Clara answers.
“Ya-hoo!” Pete says. He says it very quietly; it sounds absurd not being shouted.
“What has happened to Wilbur Mills?” she asks.
“He showed up in Boston where Fanne Foxe was stripping and got on stage drunk,” Pete says, brightening.
“I knew that. I mean, how is he now?”
“A wife cheater,” Mrs. DiLillo says. “You know the saying: ‘Wife cheater, child beater.’ ”
“He’s still there, as far as I know,” Susan says. “In Walter Reed.”
“I read that that place was a firetrap,” Charles says.
“You be
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