Petey hadn't really believed that Dad would be doing It — sending Granddad
away. "Away" was what they were calling it.Not until now could he believe
it of his father. But here was the blanket that Dad had bought for Granddad
, and in the morning he'd be going away. This was the last evening they'd
be having together. Dad was off seeing that girl he was to marry. He would
not be back till late, so Petey and Granddad could sit up and talk. It
was a fine September night, with a silver moon riding high. They washed
up the supper dishes and then took their chairs out onto the porch. "I'll
get my fiddle," said the old man, "and play you some of the old tunes
." But instead of the fiddle he brought out the blanket. It was a big double
blanket, red with black stripes. "Now, isn't that a fine blanket!" said
the old man, smoothing it over his knees. "And isn't your father a kind
man to be giving the old fellow a blanket like that to go away with? It
cost something, it did—look at the wool of it! There'll be few blankets
there the equal of this one!" It was like Granddad to be saying that. He
was trying to make it easier. He had pretended all along that he wanted
to go away to the great brick building—the government place. There he'd
be with so many other old fellows, having the best of everything. But
Petey hadn't believed Dad would really do it, not until this night when
he brought home the blanket. "Oh, yes, it's a fine blanket," said Petey
. He got up and went into the house. He wasn't the kind to cry and, besides
, he was too old for that. He'd just gone in to fetch Granddad's fiddle
. The blanket slid to the floor as the old man took the fiddle and stood
up. He tuned up for a minute, and then said, "This is one you'll like
to remember." Petey sat and looked out over the gully. Dad would marry
that girl. Yes, that girl who had kissed Petey and fussed over him, saying
she'd try to be a good mother to him, and all The tune stopped suddenly
. Granddad said, "It's a fine girl your father's going to marry. He'll
be feeling young again with a pretty wife like that. And what would an
old fellow like me be doing around their house, getting in the way? An
old nuisance, what with my talks of aches and pains. It's best that I
go away, like I'm doing. One more tune or two, and then we'll be going
to sleep. I'll pack up my blanket in the morning." They didn't hear the
two people coming down the path. Dad had one arm around the girl, whose
bright face was like a doll's. But they heard her when she laughed, right
close by the porch. Dad didn't say anything, but the girl came forward
and spoke to Granddad prettily: "I won't be here when you leave in the
morning, so I came over to say good-bye." "It's kind of you," said Granddad
, with his eyes cast down. Then, seeing the blanket at his feet, he stooped
to pick it up. "And will you look at this," he said. "The fine blanket
my son has given me to go away with." "Yes," she said. "It's a fine blanket
." She felt the wool and repeated in surprise, "A fine blanket—I'll say
it is!" She turned to Dad and said to him coldly, "That blanket really
cost something." Dad cleared his throat and said, "I wanted him to have
the best" "It's double, too," she said, as if accusing Dad. "Yes," said
Granddad, "it's double—a fine blanket for an old fellow to be going away
with." 17 The boy went suddenly into the house. He was looking for something
. He could hear that girl scolding Dad. She realized how much of Dad's
money—her money, really—had gone for the blanket. Dad became angry in
his slow way. And now she was suddenly going away in a huff. . . . As
Petey came out, she turned and called back, "All the same, he doesn't
need a double blanket!" And she ran off up the path. Dad was looking after
her as if he wasn't sure what he ought to do. "Oh, she's right," Petey
said. "Here, Dad"—and he held out a pair of scissors. "Cut the blanket
in two." Both of them stared at the boy, startled. "Cut it in two, I tell
you, Dad!" he cried out. "And keep the other half." "That's not a bad
idea," said Granddad gently. "I don't need so much of a blanket." "Yes
," the boy said harshly, "a single blanket's enough for an old man when
he's sent away. We'll save the other half, Dad. It'll come in handy later
." "Now what do you mean by that?" asked Dad. "I mean," said the boy slowly
, "that I'll give it to you, Dad— when you're old and I'm sending you—away
." There was a silence. Then Dad went over to Granddad and stood before
him, not speaking. But Granddad understood. He put out a hand and laid
it on Dad's shoulder. And he heard Granddad whisper, "It's all right, son
. I knew you didn't mean it. . . ." And then Petey cried. But it didn't
matter—because they were all crying together.