The Gardener's Son Read Online Free PDF

his head fall forward onto his clasped fists.
    Interior. The McEvoy parlor. Darkness outside, the only light the candle which is now burned down low. McEvoy is sitting in one of the chairs with his hands folded in his lap. The door opens and Martha enters. She comes forward and kneels in front of him.
    M ARTHA Bobby?
    M C E VOY When did she die?
    M ARTHA Yesterday. Early of a mornin.
    There is a long moment of silence.
    M ARTHA You got the letter?
    McEvoy takes a crumpled letter from his shirt pocket. He smooths it absently and looks at it.
    M ARTHA I know you come quick as you could.
    He looks down at her. He looks at the letter.
    M C E VOY I wish you hated this place like I do.
    He shakes his head.
    M C E VOY No. I dont.
    M ARTHA Did you want me to fix you some supper?
    He shakes his head no.
    M C E VOY She was supposed to been took back up home.
    M ARTHA Its all right.
    M C E VOY No it aint.
    M ARTHA Its done been arranged. Bobby. For her here.
    M C E VOY She aint going to be buried here.
    M ARTHA What do you aim to do?
    M C E VOY He’s got the money. He could of took her up there on the train.
    M ARTHA He cant stand it. Bobby. He’s just tore up . ..
    M ARTHA We went up there last year. He and Mama. We seen our old place up at Pickens and we went to Greenville and I seen Captain, Bobby. He was harnessed to a wagon in the street and he knowed me, Bobby. And we was up there three days . . .
    M C E VOY Where's he at?
    M ARTHA I dont know. I sent Maryellen up to Clabo’s. He wouldnt have her buried today he said give Aunt Fern and them time to get down here but they aint comin. Bobby. I know they aint. I prayed ever day for you to get my letter. From the time she first took sick .. .
    M C E VOY When trouble once finds a house it stays on. You caint get shed of it.
    M ARTHA Dont be that way Bobby.
    M C E VOY What way am I?
    She looks down. She doesnt answer.
    M C E VOY You dont know how I am. You dont know me.
    M ARTHA You’re still my brother.
    M C E VOY The good book says all men are brothers but it dont seem to cut no ice, does it?
    Exterior. Early evening. The greenhouse that Patrick McEvoy used to tend. Weeds grow by the greenhouse wall and a number of panes are stoved and broken. Robert McEvoy approaches the greenhouse and pushes in the door. It creaks back on its hinges. Lizards scuttle dryly in the late sun. Inside are withered pottings. He enters and pokes about. While he is there an old man comes to the door and looks in.
    O LD M AN Who’s that?
    Robert turns. The late sun throws shadows of dead weeds across him. The old man is squinting in at the door.
    O LD M AN Who’s there? Come on out.
    Robert McEvoy comes to the door and faces the old man. The old man looks down at his leg and his crutch.
    O LD M AN Ah. It’s you.
    R OBERT I was looking for my father.
    O LD M AN Ye’ll not find him here.
    R OBERT Where would I find him?
    O LD M AN Got to keep these boys out of here. They’ve broke some more of these lights. See them there lights? Busted em out.
    R OBERT What’s it used for?
    O LD M AN How’s that?
    R OBERT What’s it used for. The greenhouse. There’s nothing growing in here.
    O LD M AN Well. Uh. Hmph. Dont have to be used. Aint no sign to tear it up just cause it aint used no more. Rock it plumb out. See here?
    He pokes with one finger at some rocks lying among the dead and wilted boxes.
    O LD M AN Just cause a thing aint used is no need to beat it to death with rocks.
    R OBERT I was looking for my father. He’s the gardener.
    O LD M AN I know who he is. But he aint the gardener. Not no more he aint. You see any gardens?
    R OBERT No.
    O LD M AN Not big on gardens here no more. Gardens is always the first thing to go.
    R OBERT Where you reckon I might find him at?
    O LD M AN I always knowed him for a sober man. Days work done why would he not be home?
    R OBERT He’s not there.
    The old man nods his head reflectively.
    O LD M AN Back years ago of a winter day if it was sunshiny I’d come out here