The Gardener's Son

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Book: The Gardener's Son Read Online Free PDF
Author: Cormac McCarthy
at dinner time and take my dinner here. It would be warm in here and you could smell stuff growin. I’d get a crate and set on it and take my dinner and just set here. It was an awful pleasant place. Your daddy would come by sometimes and see me settin in there but he’d just go on. He never would say nothin. Then here back last fall one evenin I was makin my rounds and I thought I seen a light down here. I come in and held my lannern up and there set your daddy. He was just a settin there in the dark. Smokin his pipe. I ast him was he all right and he said yes. Said he just wanted to get out of the house for a while.
    R OBERT I got to get on.
    O LD M AN You wasnt wrong to of come here. Trouble sends folks back to places where they knowed better times. He might could of gone up to Kalmia to the orchard. It’s dried up and gone too.
    Exterior. The orchard. Night, a wind blowing the old dead trees about and clouds scudding. McEvoy hobbles down the rows among weeds calling out.
    R OBERT Hey! Old man. Hey old man.
    He comes from a distance against the sky and the blowing trees, the barren limbs creaking.
    R OBERT Hey. Its me.
    The black who drives the carriage for Mrs Gregg is standing at the end of the lane with a lantern. McEvoy approaches him through the clashing weeds.
    B LACK Hey, boy.
    R OBERT I’m a huntin my old man.
    B LACK Hush boy. What Miz Gregg hear you out here?
    R OBERT Is he not up here?
    B LACK Aint nobody up here in this old orchard. Why dont you go on home?
    R OBERT He’s not there.
    B LACK He be there after a while. Go on now.
    R OBERT Where would you be?
    B LACK That aint for me to say.
    R OBERT Where would you be?
    B LACK Night my Ella died I went to a cardhouse and got drunk. I laid in my own vomit. That’s what I thought of the hand of the Lord. Lay dead drunk in ye own vomit like a dog. I aint proud of it, but I give up lyin same as I done drinkin.
    R OBERT What did it get ye?
    B LACK What get me?
    R OBERT What did it get ye? To quit drinkin and lyin.
    B LACK It aint what it got me. It’s what it got me from.
    R OBERT And what was that?
    B LACK Death. I seen his face. I know where he uses. How he loves the unready.
    R OBERT He loves us all.
    Robert starts off down out of the orchard. The black holds the lantern up.
    B LACK (calling after) I know your heart is full. Dont spend your grief amongst fools. You listen to this old nigger. You hear?
    Interior. Night. Lamplight, an old barn used as a doggery for drinkers and card players. In the background are six or eight men seated about a spread army blanket playing tong. To one side in the background is a circular enclosure nailed up of boards about two feet in height and twenty feet in diameter. There are a number of dead chickens about and a cat is feeding on the head of one of them. In the foreground is a stove glowing red, four men seated about it in old bottomless chairs and on crates. A large man named Pinky is in charge and from time to time he will go to the game to take a house cut. The players bid and talk. The men about the stove pass a jar of white whiskey around and pass after it a peeled raw potato from which they take bites to chase the whiskey.
    Exterior. The barn in the dark with the slats lit and McEvoy hobbling toward it through the windy weeds until he reaches the door and pushes against it. A chain rattles. He raps at the door.
    Interior. Barn. Pinky rising to go to the door. He undoes the chain and opens the door and McEvoy is standing there.
    P INKY Well looky here.
    The men at the stove are looking at the door to see who is here. McEvoy enters. He pauses to wipe his nose on his sleeve and he looks about. Pinky rechains the door behind him.
    P INKY Thought you’d quit these parts, young buddy.
    Pinky is coming back toward the stove. McEvoy is standing somewhat uneasily to one side.
    M C E VOY My mama died.
    P INKY Well honey I didnt know that. Come here and set and get ye a drink. I’m sorry to hear it.
    M C E VOY I thought the
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