“Fifteen-fifty is a hundred eighty-six a year,” he said.
“It is.”
“I quit in April. April to now is six months. I saved a hundred eighty-six dollars quitting.” He glanced down the hall. “And I just laid eighty-five of it on your dresser.”
“Leaves you a hundred and one ahead,” I said.
“Not counting a new barrel.”
“Not counting that.”
He snorted. Then he laughed, a real one this time, and rubbed his hand down his face.
“Joan would skin me,” he said. “A hundred and one dollars, and I smoked up Irene Novak’s wedding quilt to get it.”
“She’d have you write it in the checkbook under foolish.”
“She would.” He nodded. “Fifteen-fifty. I’ll bring it every month, ahead. And it’ll be my saving, too, come to think. You’ll be down to fifteen-fifty yourself.”
“I had thought of that.”
“I figured you had.”
He ate his cake. And then he said the thing I have thought about most since.
“Joan had one.”
“One what?”
“A quilt. Her mother made it for us in seventy-seven. Little six-sided pieces, all sewed into flowers. Yellow, mostly.”
“Grandmother’s Flower Garden.”
“That could be. She’d take it out, spring and fall. I never knew why. I thought she just liked to look at it.” He frowned. “It’s in the hall closet. It’s in one of those plastic zipper bags a bedspread comes in. It hasn’t been out since she died.”
“Lyle. It’s been shut up in plastic over a year?”
“Is that bad?”
“Cotton has to breathe. It’ll go musty and yellow at the folds. Mother said putting a quilt in plastic was like putting a cat in a mailbox.”
He looked stricken, and I was sorry I’d said it so sharp.
“I haven’t had that closet open,” he said quietly. “Her coats are in there.”
I reached over and put my hand on his sleeve.
“Saturday,” I said. “If it’s calm. You bring it over and we’ll put it on my line. Tom’s home. I’ll show you how it drapes.”
He nodded. He couldn’t quite manage more than that, and he didn’t need to.
Tom got his something to do.
He came in Friday, and Saturday morning at eight he was across the fence with a square of expanded metal he had cut and edged at the shop in Columbus on his lunch hour, because a burn barrel wants a screen and the ones at the farm store are flimsy. Bud Hagen came out in his own pickup with a good barrel from behind the fire hall, holes punched low for draft, and four cinder blocks to set it on.
I watched from the porch. Three men past sixty, moving a barrel.
They put it clear over on the far side of Lyle’s machine shed, by the old hog lot, where a south wind carries the smoke out over eighty acres of bean stubble and bothers nobody but the pheasants. Bud paced it off from the shed. Sixty feet. He paced it twice, and then Tom paced it, as if Bud’s feet might be a different size.
“Paper and brush,” I heard Bud say. “Calm day. You call me if you’re not sure, and I mean that, I’d rather have forty calls than one grass fire.”
“I’ll look north first, too,” Lyle said.
Nobody asked him what he meant. Tom glanced up at me on the porch.
About ten, Lyle went in his house and was gone a good while.
When he came out he had the plastic zipper bag in both arms, held out in front of him like something that might spill. He carried it around by the gate, the long way.
Sophia Rivers is an experienced News Content Editor with a sharp eye for detail and a passion for delivering accurate and engaging news stories. At TheArchivists, she specializes in curating, editing, and presenting news content that informs and resonates with a global audience.
Sophia holds a degree in Journalism from the University of Toronto, where she developed her skills in news reporting, media ethics, and digital journalism. Her expertise lies in identifying key stories, crafting compelling narratives, and ensuring journalistic integrity in every piece she edits.
Known for her precision and dedication to the truth, Sophia thrives in the fast-paced world of news editing. At TheArchivists, she focuses on producing high-quality news content that keeps readers informed while maintaining a balanced and insightful perspective.
With a commitment to delivering impactful journalism, Sophia is passionate about bringing clarity to complex issues and amplifying voices that matter. Her work reflects her belief in the power of news to shape conversations and inspire change.