Peabody Hauled Up the Bluff — As I Lay Dying

When Anse finally sent for him of his own accord, Peabody said he has wore her out at last. He knew then: if Anse himself had decided a doctor was needed, it was already too late. Jewel has taken the horse. A man weighing two hundred and twenty-five pounds gets hauled up a burn wall on a plough-line while Cash saws for a mile and a storm piles black as cinders over the ridge. Anse drops the rope and walks toward the house.

Inside, Dewey Dell fans Addie. Peabody thinks she has been dead these ten days, death being a function of the minds who suffer the bereavement. Her eyes touch him like a stream from a hose. She does not look at Anse at all. He sends the men out. On the porch he asks the question nobody in the family could ask: Why didn't you send for me sooner. Anse says corn, neighbors, Dewey Dell taking good care of her. Hit ain't begrudging the money. He knowed she was going all the while.

Anse wants Peabody to tell her. What for, Peabody says. She already knows. Addie drives him from the room with her eyes, the pride that will not let pity in. A minute later her harsh voice cuts through the saw: Cash. You, Cash. Addie is about to rise at the window one last time. What happens when the son who kept building hears his name?