"Well, folks are different," he said.
I should hope so.
I have tried to live right in the sight of God and man, for the honor and comfort of my Christian husband and the love and respect of my Christian children.
So that when I lay me down in the consciousness of my duty and reward I will be surrounded by loving faces, carrying the farewell kiss of each of my loved ones into my reward.
Not like Addie Bundren dying alone, hiding her pride and her broken heart.
Glad to go.
Lying there with her head propped up so she could watch Cash building the coffin, having to watch him so he would not skimp on it, like as not, with those men not worrying about anything except if there was time to earn another three dollars before the rain come and the river got too high to get across it.
Like as not, if they hadn't decided to make that last load, they would have loaded her into the wagon on a quilt and crossed the river first and then stopped and give her time to die what Christian death they would let her.
Except Darl.
It was the sweetest thing I ever saw.
Sometimes I lose faith in human nature for a time; I am assailed by doubt.
But always the Lord restores my faith and reveals to me His bounteous love for His creatures.
Not Jewel, the one she had always cherished, not him. He was after that three extra dollars.
It was Darl, the one that folks say is queer, lazy, pottering about the place no better than Anse, with Cash a good carpenter and always more building than he can get around to, and Jewel always doing something that made him some money or got him talked about, and that near-naked girl always standing over Addie with a fan so that every time a body tried to talk to her and cheer her up, would answer for her right quick, like she was trying to keep anybody from coming near her at all.
It was Darl.
He come to the door and stood there, looking at his dying mother.
He just looked at her, and I felt the bounteous love of the Lord again and His mercy.
I saw that with Jewel she had just been pretending, but that it was between her and Darl that the understanding and the true love was.
He just looked at her, not even coming in where she could see him and get upset, knowing that Anse was driving him away and he would never see her again.
He said nothing, just looking at her.
"What you want, Darl?" Dewey Dell said, not stopping the fan, speaking up quick, keeping even him from her.
He didn't answer.
He just stood and looked at his dying mother, his heart too full for words.
Dewey Dell
The first time me and Lafe picked on down the row.
Pa dassent sweat because he will catch his death from the sickness so everybody that comes to help us.
And Jewel dont care about anything he is not kin to us in caring, not care-kin.
And Cash like sawing the long hot sad yellow days up into planks and nailing them to something.
And pa thinks because neighbors will always treat one another that way because he has always been too busy letting neighbors do for him to find out.
And I did not think that Darl would, that sits at the supper table with his eyes gone further than the food and the lamp, full of the land dug out of his skull and the holes filled with distance beyond the land.
We picked on down the row, the woods getting closer and closer and the secret shade, picking on into the secret shade with my sack and Lafe's sack.
Because I said will I or wont I when the sack was half full because I said if the sack is full when we get to the woods it wont be me.
I said if it dont mean for me to do it the sack will not be full and I will turn up the next row but if the sack is full, I cannot help it.
It will be that I had to do it all the time and I cannot help it.
And we picked on toward the secret shade and our eyes would drown together touching on his hands and my hands and I didn't say anything.
I said "What are you doing?" and he said
"I am picking into your sack."
And so it was full when we came to the end of the row and I could not help it.
And so it was because I could not help it.
It was then, and then I saw Darl and he knew.
He said he knew without the words like he told me that ma is going to die without words, and I knew he knew because if he had said he knew with the words I would not have believed that he had been there and saw us.
But he said he did know and I said
"Are you going to tell pa are you going to kill him?" without the words I said it and he said "Why?" without the words.
And that's why I can talk to him with knowing with hating because he knows.
He stands in the door, looking at her.
"What you want, Darl?" I say.
"She is going to die," he says.
And old turkey-buzzard Tull coming to watch her die but I can fool them.
"When is she going to die?" I say.
"Before we get back," he says.