“Why, naw, he ain’t dead,” Ralph said, deflated. The darkness lifted considerably from Jay: coldly, he listened to Ralph whickering up his feelings again. Finally, his voice shaking satisfactorily, he said, “But O Lord God, hit looks like the end Jay!”
I should come up, huh?" He began to wonder whether Ralph was sober enough to be trusted; Ralph heard, and misunderstood the doubt in his voice.
His own voice became dignified. “Course that’s entirely up to you, Jay. I know Paw n all of us would feel it was mighty strange if his oldest boy, the one he always thought the most of…”
This new voice and this new tack bewildered Jay for a moment. Then he understood what Ralph was driving at, and had misunderstood, and assumed about him, and was glad that he was not where he could hit him. He cut in.
“Hold on, Ralph, you hold on there. If Paw’s that bad you know damn well I’m comin so don’t give me none a that…” But he realized, with self-dislike, how unimportant it was to argue this matter with Ralph and said, “Listen here, Ralph, now don’t think I’m jumping on you, just listen. Do you hear me?” His feet and legs were getting chilly. He warmed one foot beneath the other. “Hear me?”
“I can hear you, Jay.”
“Ralph, get it straight I’m not trying to jump on you, but sounds to me like you’ve had a few. Now…”
“Now hold on. I don’t give a damn if you’re drunk or sober, far’s you’re concerned: point is this, Ralph. Anyone that’s drunk, I know it myself, they’re likely to exaggerate…”
“You think I’m a lyin to you? You…”
“Shut up, Ralph. Course you’re not. But if you’re drunk you can get an exaggerated idea how serious a thing is. Now you
