He stopped. Then he said the thing I never expected to hear from him in my life.
“I’m sorry, Nolan,” he said. “I’m too proud for my own good. Always have been. Tillie used to tell me so.”
He handed the microphone back to Pruett and put his hat on.
The barn was quiet for one more second. Then an old man on the end of the first row started clapping, slow, and then the man beside him did, and then it went up the bleachers like a wave.
It was not for Merle and it was not for me. I think it was for the whole thing. For a man saying he was wrong in front of people, which you do not see much.
Pruett let it go on a few seconds. Then he said, “All right. Let’s move these calves out, boys,” and the ring men opened the gate, and the next lot came in.
Get a new story in your inbox every morning.
Facebook doesn’t show you every story we post. Our free newsletter does. Join 2,500+ readers.
Merle did not come back up to the bleachers. He went out the little gate and stood by the rail near the café with his cane, and he did not look at anybody.
After
After our lot sold, a few of the buyers came by where I was sitting. A man in a canvas coat shook my hand and said it was a nice set. Another one asked me how long I had been preconditioning.
“This is the first year,” I said.
“Won’t be the last, I hope,” he said. “I’d buy them again.”
The order buyer who had bought the whole lot came up the steps last. He was an older fellow from out near the Texas line, and he did not waste words either.
“Those calves will do good for my man,” he said. “You call me next fall before you haul. I’d like a look at them first.”
I said I would. He nodded and went back down.
Shelby sat beside me through all of it. She did not say anything, but she did not let go of my hand until the last man left.
“You want to go find him?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “Give him a minute,” she said. “He’ll come find you. That’s how he does.”
Dr. Solberg was gone by then. I saw the back of her vest going out the side door toward the parking lot. I wanted to thank her, but she was already gone, and I figured that was on purpose.
I went down to the café and bought two cups of coffee anyway and walked out to the lot to look for Merle.
He was sitting on the tailgate of Shelby’s pickup, in the long yellow light of late afternoon, with his leg stretched out in front of him and his cane across his lap.