As she was fingering this a hush fell over the room, and she turned to see Mr. Murock’s assistants carrying Ray in the door. Under Bert’s direction, they set up trusses near the window, arranged the casket, and stepped back to permit the guests to pass by. Mildred couldn’t look. But then Mrs. Gessler caught her arm, and she was looking in spite of herself. In the setting sun, a rainbow was shimmering over the spray, framing Ray’s head. This broke Bert up again, and most of the guests tiptoed silently out. But it left Mildred unstirred. There was something unreal about Ray’s appearance. The hot flush of the last few minutes was gone, also the animation of life, also the deadly pimple. All that remained was a waxy pallor that suggested nothing but heaven, which Bert was now babbling about for the fourth or fifth time.
Letty served the rest of the sandwiches for supper, and Bert and Mildred ate tremulously, silently, hardly tasting what was put in front of them. Then Mr. Pierce and Mom arrived, with Veda, and after viewing Ray, came back to the den. Then Dr. Aldous arrived, a tall, gray, kindly man who sat near Mildred, and didn’t put her on the defensive at all for not being a member of his church. Then Mom and Dr. Aldous were in an argument, or rather Mom was, with Dr. Aldous having little to say, and Mr. Pierce correcting Mom on a number of points of ritual. The trouble was that Mom, who had been originally a Methodist, only joining the Episcopal Church after marrying Mr. Pierce, was somewhat confused as to the service that was to be used tomorrow. As Mr. Pierce told her, she had the burial service, the communion service, the psalms, and perhaps even the wedding service, so thoroughly mixed up that it was rather difficult to disentangle them. Mom said she didn’t care, she wanted the Twenty-third Psalm, it was only right they should have it when the child was dead, and also there was no use telling her there would be no praying for the child’s soul. What were they doing there, anyway? Mr. Pierce sharply reminded her that the burial service had nothing to do with a soul. The whole point was that the soul had already gone, and the burial was nothing but the commitment of a body. As Bert listened unhappily, Mr. Pierce kept calling on Dr. Aldous, as a sort of referee. That gentleman, listening with bowed head, presently said: “As the child wasn’t baptized, certain changes will have to be made in the service anyway. Small omissions, but I’m required to make them. Now, in that case, there’s no reason why the Twenty-third Psalm, and the little passage in the Communion Service that Mrs. Pierce evidently has in mind, and whatever else we want, can’t be included. At the end of the service, special prayers can be, and often are, offered, and I’ll be very glad to include these passages — that is, if the mother feels the need of them too.”
He looked at Mildred, who nodded. At first, she had resented Mom’s taking charge in this high-handed way, and felt mean remarks rising within her. Just in time, she had remembered that the Pierces were paying for everything, and kept her reflections to herself. Now she went to the children’s room and packed Veda’s things, so the Pierces could have her back in the morning, properly dressed. When she came out with the little suitcase, the Pierces decided it was time to go. Dr. Aldous, however, stayed a few minutes longer. Taking Mildred’s hand, he said: “I’ve often thought the burial service could be a little more intimate, a little more satisfying to the emotions, than it is. It’s quite true, as Mr. Pierce said, that it is the commitment of a body, not the consecration of a soul. Just the same, most people find it hard to make the distinction, and — to them, what they see isn’t a body. It’s a person, no longer alive, but still the same person, loved and terribly mourned... Well, I hope I can arrange a little service that will be satisfactory to the old lady, and the mother, and father, and — everybody.”
After Dr. Aldous left, Bert and Mildred were able to talk a little more naturally. She still had to make the inexorable pies, and as he kept her company in the kitchen, and even helped her where he could, he gave details of what had happened at the beach, and she reciprocated with a final version of what happened at the lake, making it correspond with Mrs. Gessler’s version, though not feeling any particular desire to deceive. She merely wanted to be friendly. Bert nodded when she got to the part about Mrs. Floyd. “One hell of an end to a nice vacation.”
“I didn’t care what she thought. But about Ray, I could feel it, even before I got to the hospital. I knew it, even then.”
When the pies were made, they sat with Ray for a time, then went back to the den. She said: “You don’t have to worry about me, Bert. If Mrs. Biederhof is waiting up for you, why don’t you run along?”
“She’s not waiting up.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“... She was awfully nice.”
“Mildred, can I tell you something? About what really happened Saturday?”
“Certainly.”
“Mom, she was just scared, that was all. Mom was never any good in a spot like that. And me, maybe I take after her, because I was scared too. That’s why, when Doc Gale began talking hospital I fell for it so quick. But Maggie, she wasn’t scared. We had to stop there, on our way to the hospital, because I was still in my beach shorts, and I had to put on some pants. And Maggie, she raised hell about taking Ray to the hospital. She wanted to bring her right in, then and there. That’s what I wanted too. It seemed a hell of a note, a poor little kid, and nobody even had a place for her. But — I didn’t know how you’d feel about it.”
“If that’s what happened, it does her credit.”
“She’s a goddam good friend.”
“If that’s what she did, I want you to thank her for me, and tell her I would have been only too glad. It was better that she was brought to the hospital, but if she had been put in Mrs. Biederhofs care, I wouldn’t have had any objection at all. And I know she’d have been properly taken care of, well taken care of.”
“She’s as broken up as if it was her own child.”
“I want you to tell her.”
“And will she be glad to hear it.”
Bert got wood, and made a fire, and lit it. The next Mildred knew, it was daylight, and one arm was asleep, and her head was on Bert’s shoulder. He was staring into the embers of the fire. “Bert! I must have been asleep.”
“You slept three or four hours.”
“Did you sleep?”
“I’m all right.”
They went in with Ray for a few minutes, and then Bert went out to look at the flowers. The spray was still whirling, and he reported they were “as fresh as when they were cut.”
She got a dustcloth and began moving about the house, cleaning, dusting, putting things in order. Presently she got breakfast, and they ate it in the kitchen. Then he took his departure, to dress.
Around ten, Mrs. Gessler came over, with the black dress, and took the pies, for delivery. Then the Pierces arrived, with Bert, in a dark suit, and Veda, in white. Then Letty arrived, in a Sunday dress of garnet silk. Before her clean apron could be issued, Mildred saw the Engels drive up with her mother, and sent her out to let them in. When Mildred heard them in the den, she sent Veda to say she would be there in a minute. Then she tried on the dress, noted with relief that it was a fair fit. Quickly she got into the rest of her costume. Carrying the black gloves, she went to the den.
Her mother, a small, worried-looking woman, got up and kissed her, as did her sister Blanche. Blanche was several years older than Mildred, and had a housewifey look, with some touch about her of the ineffectuality that seemed to be the main characteristic of the mother. Neither of them had the least trace of the resolute squint that was the most noticeable thing about Mildred’s face, nor did they share her voluptuous figure. Harry Engel, the unfortunate possessor of the anchor inventory, got up and shook hands, awkwardly and self-consciously. He was a big, raw-boned man, with a heavy coat of sunburn and a hint of the sea in his large blue eyes. Then Mildred saw William, a boy of twelve, in what was evidently his first long-pants suit. She shook hands with him, then remembered she should kiss him, which she did to his acute embarrassment. He sat down, and resumed his unwinking stare at Veda. To Veda, the Engels were the scum of the earth, and William was even scummier than his parents, if that was possible. Under his stare she became haughtily indifferent, crossing one bored leg over the other, and fingering the tiny cross which hung from a gold chain around her neck. Mildred sat down, and Mr. Pierce resumed his account of the catastrophe, giving a fair version this time, with full faith and credence to Mildred’s visit to the Hildegardes, at Lake Arrowhead. Mildred closed her eyes and hoped he would make it long and complete, so she wouldn’t have to talk herself. Bert tiptoed over and took the receiver off the hook, so there would be no jangling phone bell.