🎧 357: Ella got out ...

     Ella got out of bed and pulled her robe on. She stood in the hall for a moment, listening. She heard her father’s voice, but it seemed to come from farther away than the dining room, and he was saying very little, not much more than “yes” and “I understand.” He came back to the hall. “What is it, Daddy?” she whispered.
     “It’s for Mrs. Stolz,” he said. He brought his hands up over his eyes. “It’s bad news. Her grandson. Her grandson is dead. Killed.”
     “Oh, Daddy,” said Ella. She felt a surge of compassion and responsibility that struck her as a more mature feeling than anything she had experienced before. “Let me go wake her up. You wait here. I’ll get her.” She took the copy of The Thousand and One Nights from the shelf and replaced it. The bookcase swung open, and Ella disappeared into the dark. In a few moments she emerged with Mrs. Stolz, who was blinking at the light and repeating, “What is it? What is it?” Ella took her to the phone and stayed with her while she spoke to her daughter. Herb stood in the hall. He felt that he could barely breathe. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. His mouth was too dry to allow him to swallow. Ella and Mrs. Stolz came back, walking slowly, bent, as if they were wearing wet overcoats. “I’ll help Mrs. Stolz pack,” said Ella. “You should call Mother, Daddy. Tell her. Then call about a train for Mrs. Stolz.”
     “I already called your mother,” said Herb. “She’ll be home tomorrow night.”
     “You did? She will?” said Ella.
     “Yes,” said Herb. Mechanically, distractedly, he added what he had rehearsed: “So we only have tonight and tomorrow to get through without her. Then she’ll be here, and she’ll — she’ll help you. She’ll know what to do. She — oh, Ella — ” His mission came back to him suddenly. “Something awful has happened.”
     Ella was a little frightened. Her father seemed to have forgotten what had just happened, forgotten that he had already told her about the something awful.
     “I know,” she said.
     “No. No. It’s — Ella, come into the living room and sit down, I — ”
     “What is it, Daddy?” she asked.
     “Ella — ” he began. His voice had the colorlessness that comes from rehearsal. “Buster is dead too.”
     For one awful moment, Ella thought that her father was playing a trick on her. Then she knew that it must be true. Her legs gave way under her. She dropped to her knees beside Herb and huddled against him. “Oh, why Buster?” she asked.

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