Read The Gardener's Son Online
Authors: Cormac McCarthy
M
ARTHA
I just work in the spinnin room.
J
AMES
G
REGG
And what is your name?
M
ARTHA
Martha.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Well Martha, you a . . . How old are you?
M
ARTHA
Fourteen.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Fourteen. You got a boyfriend?
M
ARTHA
No sir.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Dont have a boyfriend?
M
ARTHA
No sir.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Well I dont know why not.
Martha is nervous, but she gives a sort of toss of her head to clear her hair from her face. James Gregg smiles.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Maybe you’re just too feisty for these young boys.
M
ARTHA
I aint feisty.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Well now I dont know. I bet you’d be just a handful.
M
ARTHA
A handful of what?
Gregg half chuckles to himself.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Well now I’d be afraid to say.
Martha looks down in embarrassment. James watches her.
J
AMES
G
REGG
You dont smoke cigars do you?
Martha looks up.
M
ARTHA
Do what?
J
AMES
G
REGG
Smoke cigars. You a cigar smoker?
She looks confused, until she sees a trace of a smile at his mouth. She smiles. He has taken a cigar from his vest pocket.
M
ARTHA
No.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Ah.
M
ARTHA
(quickly)
But I’ll take one to my daddy if you’re passin em out.
James Gregg raises one eyebrow and nods in a sort of congratulatory way, somewhat surprised.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Welll.
He rises from his chair and holds forth the cigar. She must come forward to take it and she does so. She takes the cigar. He watches her.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Yes, Miss Martha, I’d say you would be a handful.
M
ARTHA
I dont know nothin about that.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Dont know nothin about that.
M
ARTHA
No.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Well, I’ll tell you what.
He takes from his pocket several coins and selects a ten dollar gold piece. She watches him.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Tell you what, Martha. I bet you do know something.
He drops the ten dollar piece on the desk between them. She looks down at the coin.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Would you like to have that?
Martha looks at the coin on the desk. James looks at her. She looks at the coin and the full implication of the money strikes her and she looks at James Gregg with an expression partly of disdain but mostly she is just afraid. When he sees this he almost reaches to take back the coin, almost rises from his chair, but she has turned and fled from the office.
J
AMES
G
REGG
Hey. Wait a minute. Listen.
Interior. McEvoy kitchen. Evening. Lamplight and supper table. Mrs McEvoy sets bowls of food to the table and the four of them bend their heads.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
For what we are about to receive Lord make us truly thankful. Amen.
All raise their heads save Mrs McEvoy and in a minute she raises hers.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
I hope you aint prayin for him to get to supper this evenin. You’ll vex the Lord.
M
RS
M
C
E
VOY
I was just prayin.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Martha darlin would you be so good as to pass the meat fore the flies blow it.
Martha passes the bowl.
M
ARYELLEN
Mama where’s Bobby at tonight?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Gone to run crazy in the woods like an Indian. If you all aint hungry just pass it all up this way.
M
ARTHA
Is he still goin to work of a morn in?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
So they tell me.
He helps himself to beans, to cornbread. They are at passing the bowls up the table and around. Mr McEvoy pauses and stares off down the table.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
I dont understand that boy. Dont understand nothin about him. Some of the things he says. They make sense, but they sound ... I dont know what all goes on in his head.
M
ARTHA
What things that he says?
Mr McEvoy is eating now.
M
ARTHA
Daddy?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Just the things he says.
M
ARTHA
Like what?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Stuff he says. Like here a few evenins ago little sister piped up, said: I wisht we lived in a better house. And he just looked at her and he said: That wouldnt make you no better from what you are. I dont know what to make of him.
M
ARYELLEN
When can we go back to our other house, Daddy?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Hush and eat your supper little sister. They aint no other house.
M
ARYELLEN
Bobby says we used to have a cow.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
And it was like pullin teeth to get him to milk it.
M
ARTHA
Bobby says they’s caves all in under Graniteville. Where Indians has been.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Well maybe he's took to livin down there in em. Maybe there’s still Indians hid out down there. Him and the heathen can rage together.
M
RS
M
C
E
VOY
Bobby is not no heathen.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Never said he was. He’s just got kindly infidel ways.
M
ARTHA
What’s infidel ways?
M
RS
M
C
E
VOY
Bobby is not no infidel.
M
ARYELLEN
What’s a heathen?
M
ARTHA
It’s a person that dont go to church.
M
ARYELLEN
Is Bobby a heathen? Daddy?
He’s just got a troubled heart and they dont nobody know why.
Interior. Daytime. Greenhouse. The factory bell rings in the distance. Patrick McEvoy is potting his plants, tending the flowers in the greenhouse. The timekeeper Mr Giles comes to the door and enters. McEvoy turns to look at him as he enters.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Mornin Mr Giles.
G
ILES
Mornin. Mornin.
Giles looks about the greenhouse. McEvoy continues at his work.
G
ILES
You got a good warm place to work in.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
When the sun shines.
G
ILES
I just stopped by on the way to the house. I wanted to ask ye about Bobby.
McEvoy does not look up.
G
ILES
Is he quit his job?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
I reckon he is.
G
ILES
Did he give any reason?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
No sir. He never explained hisself to me.
G
ILES
Well, I just wanted to tell ye we got to take on another boy.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
If you do you do.
G
ILES
You know he aint supposed to stay on at company house if he aint employed by the company. Old as he is.
Silence.
G
ILES
I mean its company policy.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Yessir.
G
ILES
He can do what he wants. Aint nobody goin to put a gun to his head to make him work. But them that choose to toil not neither do they spin has got to berth elsewhere.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
Well, you dont need to bother yourself about Bobby.
G
ILES
Well he’s been somethin’ of a bother to us.
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
I said you dont need to bother yourself about him.
G
ILES
Why is that?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
He's gone is why.
G
ILES
Where’s he gone to?
M
R
M
C
E
VOY
He never said.
Exterior. Two years later. Evening. Train arriving at the outskirts of Graniteville. A solitary figure riding the last boxcar.
The train slows. Robert McEvoy sits atop the boxcar with his crutch and a tattered carpetbag. He surveys the countryside. He is chewing tobacco and he squints and leans and spits over the edge of the car roof. He is older and harder looking and he wears a scar. As the train grinds to a halt he takes up his bag and moves along the roof to the ladder and lowers himself down to the ground and sets off along a narrow road through the winter woods. In the distance the mill bell tolls.