Bivouac

Two

A crow of a woman with grey patches of hair sticking out of a blue and gold silk scarf knotted in front had pushed her way through a crowd of visitors who were gathered around a bed at the other end of the ward, and moved towards Ferron and his mother. They had been standing there by the old man's side for nearly an hour, not speaking. His mother used a cool rag to wipe the expressionless face. She kept whispering to the old man, asking him why he was doing this to her. the old man's bed was the last one before the door to the nurses office.

The crow was dressed like the others in the group at the far end of the ward:church whites and blacks, which hung on her body at a slant. She held her bible tight under her thin chest and looked from the bed to the faces of Ferron and his mother. The old man was having difficulty breathing. He looked thin. The women stared at him knowlingy. Two women from the other bed looked over. Soon they were all but ignoring their sick friend and watching this crow-faced woman standing before the old man's bed. Ferron recognized the look. They were expecting a lessons- a sermon...