A Gathering of Old Men by Ernest J. Gaines

Lord have mercy, Jesus, what now? Where do I turn? Go where first? The Major? For what? He’s already drunk out there on that front garry, and it’s just twelve o’clock. Miss Bea? That’s like talking to the wall. Where? Mr. Lou? Yes. She said call Mr. Lou. Mr. Lou and Miss Merle. I better make it Mr. Lou first. Lord, have mercy, keep me on my feet if it is thy holy will.

I went in and dialed the paper in Baton Rouge—my finger trembling, just a-trembling. When the operator answered, I told her I wanted to speak to Mr. Lou Dimes. She told me that was “City,” and told me to hold on. Then somebody else answered and said, “City”; then he said, “Toby Wright.” I told him I wanted to speak to Mr. Lou Dimes. “Lou at dinner right now,” he said. “Oh, Lord,” I said. “Where? Find him. Hurry. Candy want him here right away. Please, sir. Please.” “Just hold on,” he said. “Calm down. He’ll be back in a little while. Who am I speaking to? That’s you, Janey?” “Yes, sir, it’s me,” I said. “Find him fast as you can, and tell him get here fast as he can. He don’t have to call. Just get here. And please hurry. Hurry.”