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Show 137 Irish wake. Karl was shaken by the harsh sounds of his mother's pain, which recalled her terrible grieving after Kurt and Kara died. "Go to bed," his father barked at him, and Karl ran upstairs as fast as he could, tearing off his clothes to crawl under the blankets beside Henry, who slept undisturbed. Karl covered his head with the pillow to block the sound of his mother's weeping, but he could still hear it, and it lasted for hours. Sunlight streaming through the window awakened him. No one had roused him to go to seven o'clock mass, and the brightness of the sun showed that it was much later than seven. Henry was gone from the bed. After Karl dressed, he crept to the top of the stairs and glanced into his parents' bedroom. Hugo was asleep, with his thick arm, encased in gray, long-sleeved underwear, across his eyes. Maggie Rose was not beside him. Treading softly in his stocking feet, Karl descended the stairs. Maggie Rose sat in her chair next to the kitchen window, rocking back and. forth, staring straight ahead. She wore the same clothes she'd worn the night before; Karl knew she hadn't been to bed. Never before had Karl known his mother to deliberately miss Sunday mass, and this frightened him as much as her stony, haggard expression. At her feet, Henry sat in his nightgown, whimpering, "Mom, I'm hungry. Get me something to eat, Mom." Maggie Rose ignored the child as if he didn't exist. "Don't bother Mom," Karl said, picking up Henry to carry him across the room to the table. "Here, sit still and keep quiet. I'll get you some jelly bread." |
