Giving Her Away

A Rose for Emily. IWHEN Miss Emily Grierson died, our whole town went to. Companionship.

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It was a big, squarish frame house that had once been. But garages and. cotton gins had encroached and obliterated even the august. Miss Emily's house was. And now Miss Emily had gone to join the representatives. Union and Confederate soldiers who fell at the. Jefferson. Alive, Miss Emily had been a tradition, a duty, and a care. Colonel Sartoris, the mayor- -he who.

Negro woman should appear on the streets. Not that Miss Emily would have accepted. Colonel Sartoris invented an involved tale to the. Miss Emily's father had loaned money to the. Only a man of Colonel Sartoris' generation. When the next generation, with its more modern ideas.

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On the first of the year they mailed. February came, and there was no reply. A week later the mayor. The tax notice was also enclosed. They called a special meeting of the Board of Aldermen. They were admitted. Negro into a dim hall from which a.

It smelled of dust. The Negro led them into. It was furnished in heavy, leather- covered furniture. On a tarnished. gilt easel before the fireplace stood a crayon portrait. Miss Emily's father. They rose when she entered- -a small, fat woman in. Her skeleton was small and spare; perhaps.

She looked bloated, like a body. She just stood in the door and.

Then they could hear the invisible watch ticking at the end. Her voice was dry and cold. Perhaps one of you can. We are the city authorities, Miss Emily. I have no taxes in. Jefferson. I have no taxes in Jefferson. After her father's death she went out.

A few of the ladies had the temerity to call. Negro man- -a young man then- -going in.

It was another link between the gross. Griersons. A neighbor, a woman, complained to the mayor, Judge. Stevens, eighty years old. I'll speak to him about it. I'd be the last one in the world.

Miss Emily, but we've got to do something. Give her a certain time to do it in, and if. They broke. open the cellar door and sprinkled lime there, and in all the. As they recrossed the lawn, a window that. Miss Emily sat in it, the light. They crept quietly across the lawn and into the shadow. After a week or two the.

That was when people had begun to feel really sorry for. People in our town, remembering how old lady Wyatt, her. Griersons held themselves a little too high for what. None of the young men were quite good. Miss Emily and such.

We had long thought of. Miss Emily a slender figure in white in.

So when. she got to be thirty and was still single, we were not pleased. When her father died, it got about that the house was. At. last they could pity Miss Emily.

Being left alone, and a. Now she too would.

The day after his death all the ladies prepared to call at. Miss Emily met them at the door, dressed as usual and with. She told them that her father. She did that for three days, with the ministers. Just as they were about to. We did not say she was crazy then.

We believed she had. We remembered all the young men her father. IIISHE WAS SICK for a long time. When we saw her again, her. The town had just let the contracts for paving the sidewalks. The construction company came with niggers and. Homer Barron. a Yankee- -a big, dark, ready man, with a big voice and eyes.

The little boys would follow in groups. Pretty soon he knew everybody in. Whenever you heard a lot of laughing anywhere about the. Homer Barron would be in the. Presently we began to see him and Miss. Emily on Sunday afternoons driving in the yellow- wheeled. At first we were glad that Miss Emily would have an.

Her kinsfolk should come to her. It was as if she demanded more than ever. Grierson; as if it. She was. over thirty then, still a slight woman, though thinner than. I don't care what kind. But what you want is- -.

She looked back at him. But the law requires. The Negro. delivery boy brought her the package; the druggist didn't. When she opened the package at home there.

When she had first begun. Homer Barron, we had said, . The. men did not want to interfere, but at last the ladies forced. Baptist minister- -Miss Emily's people were Episcopal- -. He would never divulge what happened.

The. next Sunday they again drove about the streets, and the. Miss Emily's. relations in Alabama. So she had blood- kin under her roof again and we sat.

At first nothing happened. We learned. that Miss Emily had been to the jeweler's and ordered a.

H. We were glad. because the two female cousins were even more Grierson. Miss Emily had ever been. So we were not surprised when Homer Barron- -the. We. were a little disappointed that there was not a public blowing- off. Miss Emily's coming, or to give her a chance to get rid of. And, as we had. expected all along, within three days Homer Barron was. A neighbor saw the Negro man admit him at.

And of. Miss Emily for some time. The Negro man went in and out. Then. we knew that this was to be expected too; as if that quality. When we next saw Miss Emily, she had grown fat and. During the next few years it. Up to the day of her death at. From that time on her front door remained closed, save.

She fitted. up a studio in one of the downstairs rooms, where the. Colonel Sartoris' contemporaries. Sundays with. a twenty- five- cent piece for the collection plate. Meanwhile. her taxes had been remitted.

Then the newer generation became the backbone and. The front door closed upon the last one. When the town got free. Miss Emily alone refused to let them fasten. She would not listen to them.

Daily, monthly, yearly we watched the Negro grow grayer. Now and. then we would see her in one of the downstairs windows- -she had. Thus she passed from generation. And so she died. Fell ill in the house filled with dust and.

Negro man to wait on her. He walked right. through the house and out the back and was not seen again. The two female cousins came at once. They held the. funeral on the second day, with the town coming to look. Miss Emily beneath a mass of bought flowers, with the.

Confederate uniforms- -on the porch. Miss Emily as if she had been a. Already we knew that there was one room in that region. They waited until Miss Emily. The violence of breaking down the door seemed to fill. A thin, acrid pall as of the.

Among them lay a collar and. Upon a chair hung.

The man himself lay in the bed. For a long while we just stood there, looking down at the. The body had apparently once. What was left of him, rotted beneath. Then we noticed that in the second pillow was the indentation.

One of us lifted something from it, and.

Pritchett Memorial Prize for a Short Story, 2. UK KIRKUS REVIEWS: In seven short stories, residents of a London boardinghouse reach moments of clarity. On London Road, lined with scruffy shops, stands No. Victorian that's been turned into a boardinghouse.

Its residents tend toward hard luck and desperation: Janice is just out of prison; Mandy is on probation; Bitty has a good education, but is scarred by her mother's frequent abandonments; and Isobel is mentally unstable. Nora, the landlady, writes romance novels but has experienced little romance herself, and her daughter, Anna, is disgusted by Isobel's outbursts. Their interconnected stories take place on a day of unusually hot weather, and focus on one resident at a time, with Janice's story told in two parts. In each, characters have a chance to make a leap of faith in other people, or in the future. Pointing to a framed photograph of the queen, he remarks, . She focuses on illuminative details and subtle, turning- point moments, as when Mandy, a young woman on probation, reacts to her mandatory book group's reading of Katherine Mansfield's 1. Mandy makes plans to shoplift again, but something about the book group leader's hopefulness and the invitation to give her honest opinion sparks her determination to win- -maybe a literary argument, or maybe more chocolate wafers.

Tales with subtle, positive but never saccharine transformations that feel fully earned. Pritchett Memorial Prize for a Short Story, 2. UK KIRKUS REVIEWS: In seven short stories, residents of a London boardinghouse reach moments of clarity. On London Road, lined with scruffy shops, stands No. Victorian that's been turned into a boardinghouse. Its residents tend toward hard luck and desperation: Janice is just out of prison; Mandy is on probation; Bitty has a good education, but is scarred by her mother's frequent abandonments; and Isobel is mentally unstable.

Nora, the landlady, writes romance novels but has experienced little romance herself, and her daughter, Anna, is disgusted by Isobel's outbursts. Good Time. Their interconnected stories take place on a day of unusually hot weather, and focus on one resident at a time, with Janice's story told in two parts. In each, characters have a chance to make a leap of faith in other people, or in the future. Pointing to a framed photograph of the queen, he remarks, .

She focuses on illuminative details and subtle, turning- point moments, as when Mandy, a young woman on probation, reacts to her mandatory book group's reading of Katherine Mansfield's 1. Mandy makes plans to shoplift again, but something about the book group leader's hopefulness and the invitation to give her honest opinion sparks her determination to win—maybe a literary argument, or maybe more chocolate wafers. Tales with subtle, positive but never saccharine transformations that feel fully earned.