No country for old men - By Cormac McCarthy Page 0,72
hand. The dead woman had more friends than she would have reckoned. She was surprised. They’d come with their faces veiled in black. She put her hand on her uncle’s shoulder and he reached up across his chest and patted it. She had thought maybe he was asleep. The whole while that the wind blew and the preacher talked she had the feeling that someone was watching her. Twice she even looked around.
It was dark when she got home. She went into the kitchen and put the kettle on and sat at the kitchen table. She hadnt felt like crying. Now she did. She lowered her face into her folded arms. Oh Mama, she said.
When she went upstairs and turned on the light in her bedroom Chigurh was sitting at the little desk waiting for her.
She stood in the doorway, her hand falling slowly away from the wallswitch. He moved not at all. She stood there, holding her hat. Finally she said: I knowed this wasnt done with.
Smart girl.
I aint got it.
Got what?
I need to set down.
Chigurh nodded toward the bed. She sat and put her hat on the bed beside her and then picked it up again and held it to her.
Too late, Chigurh said.
I know.
What is it that you havent got?
I think you know what I’m talkin about.
How much do you have.
I dont have none of it. I had about seven thousand dollars all told and I can tell you it’s been long gone and they’s bills aplenty left to pay yet. I buried my mother today. I aint paid for that neither.
I wouldnt worry about it.
She looked at the bedside table.
It’s not there, he said.
She sat slumped forward, holding her hat in her arms. You’ve got no cause to hurt me, she said.
I know. But I gave my word.
Your word?
Yes. We’re at the mercy of the dead here. In this case your husband.
That dont make no sense.
I’m afraid it does.
I dont have the money. You know I aint got it.
I know.
You give your word to my husband to kill me?
Yes.
He’s dead. My husband is dead.
Yes. But I’m not.
You dont owe nothin to dead people.
Chigurh cocked his head slightly. No? he said.
How can you?
How can you not?
They’re dead.
Yes. But my word is not dead. Nothing can change that.
You can change it.
I dont think so. Even a nonbeliever might find it useful to model himself after God. Very useful, in fact.
You’re just a blasphemer.
Hard words. But what’s done cannot be undone. I think you understand that. Your husband, you may be distressed to learn, had the opportunity to remove you from harm’s way and he chose not to do so. He was given that option and his answer was no. Otherwise I would not be here now.
You aim to kill me.
I’m sorry.
She put the hat down on the bed and turned and looked out the window. The new green of the trees in the light of the vaporlamp in the yard bending and righting again in the evening wind. I dont know what I ever done, she said. I truly dont.
Chigurh nodded. Probably you do, he said. There’s a reason for everything.
She shook her head. How many times I’ve said them very words. I wont again.
You’ve suffered a loss of faith.
I’ve suffered a loss of everthing I ever had. My husband wanted to kill me?
Yes. Is there anything that you’d like to say?
To who?
I’m the only one here.
I dont have nothin to say to you.
You’ll be all right. Try not to worry about it.
What?
I see your look, he said. It doesn’t make any difference what sort of person I am, you know. You shouldnt be more frightened to die because you think I’m a bad person.
I knowed you was crazy when I seen you settin there, she said. I knowed exactly what was in store for me. Even if I couldnt of said it.
Chigurh smiled. It’s a hard thing to understand, he said. I see people struggle with it. The look they get. They always say the same thing.
What do they say.
They say: You dont have to do this.
You dont.
It’s not any help though, is it?
No.
So why do you say it?
I aint never said it before.
Any of you.
There’s just me, she said. There aint nobody else.
Yes. Of course.
She looked at the gun. She turned away. She sat with her head down, her shoulders shaking. Oh Mama, she said.