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Authors: Erskine Caldwell

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BOOK: Stories of Erskine Caldwell
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Waldo did not even know he had a brother in Australia and, even if he had known it, he would never have imagined that he would be remembered in a will. From Bangor to Burlington, all the Murdocks, especially the home-owning branch of the family, were known throughout the entire region north of Boston for their trait, which relatives by marriage and other outsiders called cussedness, of not acknowledging kinship with one another. And as it was, it was all Waldo could do to force himself, after having cast aside pride of long standing, publicly to admit blood relationship with another Murdock, even if he had lived in Australia, long enough to go to the bank in Waterville and cash the check the lawyer from Portland had handed him.

“Pay no mind to what the people say,” he told the clerk in the bank. “There may be others in the State of Maine bearing the name of Murdock, but there’s not a single drop of mingling blood that I would own to. I’d sooner claim kinship with my old black cow than I would with a so-called Murdock.”

Dessie, Waldo’s wife, was, at the beginning, the most levelheaded of all. She maintained her mental balance, if only at the start, much better than Waldo and some of the townspeople. Dessie, although afterward she regretted not having gone along, even remained at home and tended the house chores while Waldo was away in Waterville cashing the check. There was only one thing she did out of the ordinary that forenoon, and that was to make Justine, the hired girl, air the parlor and shake out the scatter rugs, even if it was not Saturday.

During all that time the neighbors were ringing her up on the phone and asking what she was going to do with all that money, but that, too, in the beginning, failed to veer the even measure of her thoughts.

“When the check is cashed, if it’s not worthless, and it’ll be a wonder if it’s not, there’ll be ample time at hand for me to go out of my way to think about it,” she told them. “Right now, and likely forever after, it’s nothing but a scrawl and a promise on a slip of paper.”

Dessie went back to work with her lips a little tighter each time she finished talking to one of the neighbors on the phone. She was not exactly worried, she told Justine, but she was feeling impatient. Waldo failed to come home at the noon hour for dinner, and it was not long after that before she, like everybody else in Brighton who was working himself into a frenzy over Waldo’s sudden windfall, began thinking of the things that could be done with the money.

Late that afternoon Waldo drove up to the dooryard and left the automobile standing there instead of putting it away in the shed where it belonged.

Justine came running to tell her.

Dessie was so on edge by that time that she jumped several inches off the chair seat when Justine, who was as excited as she by then, ran into the room where she was.

“Mr. Murdock’s back!” Justine cried, twisting her fingers.

“He’d better be!” Dessie said. “If he hadn’t got home when he did, he could have just kept on traveling, for all the concern I’d ever have.”

“I guess Mr. Murdock has the real money,” Justine said, looking over her shoulder. “He looked like he was feeling good about it when he got out of the auto.”

Dessie leaped to her feet.

“Go on about your tasks, whatever they be, Justine,” she said crossly. “It’s none of your money, if there is any, anyway.”

Justine went to the kitchen and watched Waldo come along the path to the side door.

Waldo came in, throwing his hat on the table. He looked at Dessie for a moment, cocking his head a little to one side. His coat pocket sagged heavily.

Neither Dessie nor Waldo spoke for a while.

Presently Dessie walked up to him and held out her hand.

“Guess I’ll take charge for the time being,” she said stiffly. “Hand it over.”

Waldo reached into his coat pocket, drawing out a mostly empty bottle and handing it to her. She stepped back, looking at it severely. Then, without a word, she grabbed the bottle by the neck and slung it with all her might across the room. It struck the wall, shattering into dozens of pieces.

“I might have known it, and I would have, if I had only had the sense God has given most people!” she said, raising her voice. “I’ve got only myself to blame!”

Waldo reached for a chair.

“Now there’s no cause for a human to take on so, Dessie,” he said. “Everything turned out, from here to there and back again, like it was made to order.”

He reached into his pants pocket and drew out a bulging roll of greenbacks. The bills were tied tightly around the center with a piece of heavy twine. Dessie forgot her anger the instant she saw the money. The scowling lines on her face disappeared completely while she watched Waldo bounce the roll up and down in his hand.

“All I’ve got to say,” she began, “is that I never thought I’d live to breathe the air of the day when a deceasing Murdock would have the decency to do the honorable thing with his money, even if he couldn’t find means of taking it along with him when he went, which would be a wonder if he didn’t try to do, and he probably did, anyway.”

Waldo leaned back and let her talk to her heart’s content. He felt so good himself that he wanted her to have a good time, too. He let her speak what came to mind, without uttering a single grumble.

“Have you any more blood relations that we’ve neglected to remind ourselves of, Waldo?” she asked, leaning toward him. “It seems to me that I recall your second cousin in Skowhegan saying once some years ago that a Murdock went to California at the end of the Spanish-American War and prospected for gold. It might be that he struck it rich out there, which a lot of people did, so I’ve read, if reading can be believed. If we’d been more particular about your blood relations in the past, we wouldn’t have to sit here now and wrack our brains trying to call them to mind at a time like this.”

“Guess I have no blood relations of the name of Murdock,” Waldo said firmly.

Dessie drew a deep breath and looked longingly at the large roll of greenbacks bouncing up and down in her husband’s hand.

Suddenly she leaned forward and grasped the roll desperately.

Waldo snatched it from her.

“I think we ought to start making plans,” she said.

“This is Murdock money, woman,” he said quickly. “A Murdock made it, and a Murdock shall spend it.”

Dessie sat up decisively.

“Well, anyway, we’ll be sensible,” she said calmly. “We won’t throw it away on trifles like a lot of people would who I could mention, if I had a mind to.”

“I’ve got it all settled, Dessie,” Waldo told her, smiling as a kindly feeling came over him. “Guess we can afford to have a good time now at our age. Maybe we won’t be lingering here much longer, which would be a shame if we hadn’t taken full advantage of it by the time we went. Wouldn’t be no sense in hoarding it only to have to pass it along to somebody else after we are gone.”

Dessie nodded approvingly, her spirits rising again.

“I’ve always wanted a fur neckpiece, Waldo,” she said, her face bright with hope.

Dessie did not sleep a single wink that night. For an hour after they had gone to bed, she lay silently tense, listening. Waldo did not stir. He lay on his back listening to Dessie’s labored breathing.

Just before midnight Dessie got up as quietly as she possibly could and tiptoed to the foot of the bed where Waldo had laid his pants over the back of a chair. It was dark in the room with the shades drawn, and she took care in feeling her way to the chair. She was trembling nervously when she touched it, and the jerking of her breath had started a pain in her chest. Without losing any more time she slid her hand into the pants pocket.

“Get your hand out of my pants, Dessie,” Waldo said, rising up in bed. “Leave that money be.”

Dessie dropped the pants without having touched the money, and went back to bed without a word. Neither of them spoke as she lay down again and tried to make herself as comfortable as possible for the remainder of the night. After that both of them lay staring into the blackness of the room.

Just as dawn was beginning to show the first signs of breaking, Dessie slid carefully from the bed and crawled on her hands and knees toward the chair. As she was rising up to reach the pants, Waldo sat up erectly.

“Don’t want to have to mention it again about you putting your hand in my pants pocket,” he said. “Leave that money be, Dessie.”

Dessie dropped the pants and went to the window. She stood there watching a red dawn break in the east. After a while she began dressing, and as she was leaving the chamber she heard Justine starting a fire in the kitchen stove.

While she and Justine were preparing breakfast, she began to realize how uneasy she really was about the money. She had spent a sleepless night worrying over the wealth, and she was afraid she would not get a chance to spend a single penny of it herself.

“Mrs. Murdock,” Justine said, coming and standing beside her, “Carl and I could get mated right away if we had the money for a chamber suite.”

“Let Carl Friend make his own money,” Dessie said sharply, turning on the girl. “Me and my husband have worked hard all our lives for what we possess. It won’t hurt Carl Friend to do the same for you, if he wants a family.”

“I couldn’t sleep much last night for staying awake wondering if you and Mr. Murdock wouldn’t want to help me out,” Justine said persistently. “Especially because I’ve worked here for you six years without asking favors, and I didn’t think you’d miss a little of all that big inheritance from Australia.”

“Mind your own affairs, Justine!” she said sharply. “Besides, Carl Friend can get the money from his own family if he wants to furnish a house for you. Those Friends have made plenty of profit in roof tinning in the past.”

“They won’t help any, Mrs. Murdock,” Justine said sadly. “And Carl and I don’t want to have to wait and wait and wait.”

“You don’t have to hurry the marriage for any reason, do you?” Dessie asked suspiciously.

Justine looked at her for several moments, her thoughts racing through her mind.

“Not exactly,” she admitted at last.

“Well, then,” Dessie said, turning away, “in that case, you can afford to wait.”

In turning abruptly she almost walked headlong into Waldo. He had come into the kitchen and was going toward the pantry. After Dessie had stepped out of the way, she watched him go into the pantry and pick up several cans off the shelf. He found an empty coffee can and left, going through the kitchen and out the door without a word being spoken. Dessie watched him leave, wondering what he was about to do. She went to the window and watched as he walked to the toolshed and came out a moment later carrying a spade. With the coffee can in one hand and the spade over his shoulder, he disappeared out of sight behind the barn.

It was not until almost ten minutes had passed that Dessie realized what Waldo was doing behind the barn.

Just as she was opening the door to run out there and observe him from the corner of the barn, Waldo walked into view. He came toward the house, carrying the spade but not the coffee can, Dessie’s heart sank. He had buried the can, and the money with it, and she had failed to get out there in time to see where the wealth had been hidden. She walked back into the kitchen and placed breakfast on the table.

Waldo came in a few minutes later, washed his hands at the pump, and sat down at his place. He began eating as though nothing out of the ordinary had taken place out behind the barn. Neither she nor Waldo had anything to say to each other during the whole twenty minutes they were at the table. When he finished eating, he got up and put on his hat.

“Have some affairs to attend to in the village,” he said shortly. “Will be away for the forenoon, the whole of it.”

Dessie nodded. She had to grip her hands tightly in order to hide her impatience. She waited until Waldo had got out of sight, and then she grabbed Justine by the arm and pulled her through the door. Pushing Justine ahead, Dessie ran as fast as she could to the toolshed, where she quickly snatched up two spades, and then hurried toward the back of the barn.

She set Justine to digging right away, while she looked the ground over carefully, hoping to find evidence of a freshly covered hole. She searched for nearly half an hour without finding a single trace of the hole she was positive Waldo had dug, and after that she went to work, digging methodically.

After several hours, Justine slumped to the ground, completely exhausted. Dessie was tired, too, and the blisters on her hands made digging so painful that she could hardly bear to hold the spade. But she forced herself to keep on, allowing Justine to rest a few minutes.

“Get up and dig, Justine,” she called breathlessly, not being able to bear seeing her idle any longer.

Justine crawled to her feet and tried to push the blade of her spade into the stony earth. She wanted to beg Dessie to let her rest some more, but when she glanced up and saw Dessie’s closely clamped lips, she knew it would be useless to ask.

Dessie stopped for a moment to ease her back. When her eyes were raised from the ground, she saw Fred Paxton leaning over the stone wall beside the road a hundred feet away.

“Going fishing, Dessie?” he called. “See you’re digging fishing worms.”

Dessie thrust her hand against the small of her aching back and straightened up a little more.

“Thought I might,” she said slowly. “It’s been a long time since I went.”

“Now that you and Waldo have all that money to falute on,” Fred said, “I guess you and him can afford to spend all your time doing nothing but fish, if you have a mind to.”

“Maybe,” she said, tightening her lips.

The mere mention of the money inflamed her thoughts until she could not see clearly. She bent over the spade, thrusting the blade into the rough, stony ground with all her might. She kept doggedly at it until she was certain Fred had walked out of sight over the hill.

Later she sent Justine to the kitchen for some bread and potatoes left over from breakfast, and when Justine returned, Dessie sat down in the shade of the barn and ate hurriedly.

“While I was in the house, Mr. Murdock phoned and said he wouldn’t be back in the forenoon,” Justine said. “He told me to tell you he would be away in the afternoon, too, the whole of it.” Dessie leaped to her feet.

BOOK: Stories of Erskine Caldwell
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