The Feud by Thomas Berger Page B

tripped coming down the front-porch steps, twisted his ankle, and claimed he couldn’t ever walk right thereafter, and a shyster lawyer had won him a bundle, to pay off which the poor devil lost his home.
    The Millville volunteer ambulance corps had the same personnel as the fire department, except that fewer guys were needed for most calls. If Walt had not been oblivious to the situation while in the toilet, he would certainly have considered himself as being on duty with respect to the fallen Dolf, and would have been the first to put in the emergency call and then to grab an end of the stretcher—all this when maybe it was he who had killed the victim.
    His nose started to bleed again, and he returned to the toilet.
    Merryvale Hospital, where the Millville ambulance boys had taken Tony’s father, was up on the county line and could not be reached from Hornbeck by public transportation except by taking two buses whose routes did not quite intersect. Though Tony was handy around engines and could drive very well, he could legally operate a motor vehicle only when accompanied by a licensed adult. His mother had never been behind the wheel of a car, and wishing to maintain Dolf’s code of independence and self-sufficiency (he hated being beholden to relatives or friends), especially now that he was on the flat of his back, Bobby realized that if she expected to get to the hospital, someone in the immediate and available family would have to drive her. Bernice had a license but could not be reached at the moment—on hearing that she had left the employment of the Majestic Theatre, Bobby strongly suspected that her daughter had been fired and was fibbing about being a manicurist, and phone calls now confirmed these suspicions—and therefore Tony was elected willy-nilly.
    He came home from school within ten minutes of her call to the principal’s office and brought Jack with him. Jack was wearing a sweater that had been handed down, like so much of his clothing, from Tony. It was darned in one small place, under the arm, where the moths had got to it because he had not given it to his mother to put away for the summer, owing to an aversion to the smell of mothballs, which he said made him queasy.
    “I guess you’ll want to change that,” said Bobby, pulling the wool at the elbow.
    “O.K.” He went upstairs.
    “I’m sure glad Dad didn’t die,” said Tony.
    “People don’t always die from a heart attack,” Bobby said. She had put on her foundation and her Sunday best, including a hat, and powdered her face: all of this really did help to support a person’s spirit. “Heck, a lot of people have had one and lived to see a better day.”
    “Where’s the car?” Tony asked. “Still over at the plant? I better hike over there, be quicker than the bus. And then I’ll run back and pickya up.” He too was wearing a sweater over a shirt and tie. It was nice and neat, but as the man in the group he should be dressed like one.
    “Fella from work’s bringing it over, some pal of your dad’s. While we’re waiting, why don’t you go upstairs and put on a suit, Tony? You know what I mean.”
    “Sure.” He almost bumped into Jack, who was just returning in a brown coat sweater, all neatly buttoned. They really were good boys.
    Tony had just gone upstairs when from her post at the back kitchen window Bobby saw the automobile come up the alley.
    She gathered her coat together at the waist: it was a little too snug to button in comfort. She picked up her purse and said to Jack, “Car’s here. Tell Tony I went on out.”
    Going down the back stairs she was cautious. She wore high heels only on such official occasions, weddings, funerals, and the like, which happily were not that frequent. When she reached the alley she was amazed to see that the man who had returned the car was some distance away and striding rapidly.
    She called, “Hey there.”
    He stopped and turned. “Miz Beeler? Key’s right there in the