No country for old men - By Cormac McCarthy Page 0,77

it to account. In a way that seems peculiar. That they didnt. You think about what all has happened to just this one family. I dont know what I’m doin here still knockin around. All them young people. We dont know where half of em is even buried at. You got to ask what was the good in all that. So I go back to that. How come people dont feel like this country has got a lot to answer for? They dont. You can say that the country is just the country, it dont actively do nothin, but that dont mean much. I seen a man shoot his pickup truck with a shotgun one time. He must of thought it done somethin. This country will kill you in a heartbeat and still people love it. You understand what I’m sayin?

I think I do. Do you love it?

I guess you could say I do. But I’d be the first one to tell you I’m as ignorant as a box of rocks so you sure dont want to go by nothin I’d say.

Bell smiled. He got up and went to the sink. The old man turned the chair slightly to where he could see him. What are you doin? he said.

I thought I’d just wash these here dishes.

Hell, leave em, Ed Tom. Lupe’ll be here in the mornin.

It wont take but a minute.

The water from the tap was gypwater. He filled the sink and added a scoop of soap powder. Then he added another.

I thought you used to have a television set in here.

I used to have a lot of things.

Why didnt you say somethin? I’ll get you one.

I dont need one.

Keep you company some.

It didnt quit on me. I throwed it out.

You dont never watch the news?

No. Do you?

Not much.

He rinsed the dishes and left them to drain and stood looking out the window at the little weedgrown yard. A weathered smokehouse. An aluminum two horse trailer on blocks. You used to have chickens, he said.

Yep, the old man said.

Bell dried his hands and came back to the table and sat. He looked at his uncle. Did you ever do anything you was ashamed of to the point where you never would tell nobody?

His uncle thought about that. I’d say I have, he said. I’d say about anybody has. What is it you’ve found out about me?

I’m serious.

All right.

I mean somethin bad.

How bad.

I dont know. Where it stuck with you.

Like somethin you could go to jail for?

Well, it could be somethin like that I reckon. It wouldnt have to be.

I’d have to think about that.

No you wouldnt.

What’s got into you? I aint goin to invite you out here no more.

You didnt invite me this time.

Well. That’s true.

Bell sat with his elbows on the table and his hands folded together. His uncle watched him. I hope you aint fixin to make some terrible confession, he said. I might not want to hear it.

Do you want to hear it?

Yeah. Go ahead.

All right.

It aint of a sexual nature is it?

No.

That’s all right. Go ahead and tell it anyways.

It’s about bein a war hero.

All right. Would that be you?

Yeah. That’d be me.

Go ahead.

I’m tryin to. This is actually what happened. What got me that commendation.

Go ahead.

We was in a forward position monitorin radio signals and we was holed up in a farmhouse. Just a two room stone house. We’d been there two days and it never did quit rainin. Rained like all get-out. Somewhere about the middle of the second day the radio operator had took his headset off and he said: Listen. Well, we did. When somebody said listen you listened. And we didnt hear nothin. And I said: What is it? And he said: Nothin.

I said What the hell are you talkin about, nothin? What did you hear? And he said: I mean you cant hear nothin. Listen. And he was right. There was not a sound nowheres. No field-piece or nothin. All you could hear was the rain. And that was about the last thing I remember. When I woke up I was layin outside in the rain and I dont know how long I’d been layin there. I was wet and cold and my ears was ringin and whenever I set up and looked the house was gone. Just part of the wall at one end was standin was all. A round had come through the wall and just blowed it all to hell. Well, I couldnt hear a thing.