The treatment (66)
“So what happened to your father?”
“Well, my grandparents had given most of their oil to found the hospital. They had been quite successful with our oil fields. So we had a 16th to keep the ranch running, if we needed it. And it was plenty. “
“So your father?”
“He left when I was young, to look for minerals in Africa; thought he could do better there and not in oil. He loved rocks. He was a hard-rock geologist, didn’t like oil much. He would return for a month at a time, and then go back to running his concessions. I was told he had found, among other things, diamonds.”
“What happened to him?”
“Just disappeared. Never have found him. His plane was found on the savannah, undamaged, but he was gone.”
“Just like that.”
“Yes. After that, we never saw a dime from the concessions, either.”
“Your mother…”
“She lasted about fifteen years, smokin’ like a chimney, looking out the window all day and night for him. We sold out the cattle; she couldn’t keep up with them without Dad. Could not concentrate. Ran the help off, mostly. She was a wreck.”
“Who took of care of you?”
“Mae showed up and took care of both of us. Mom liked her. Mae could calm her. Then mother died of a bad lung cancer, and she took care of me and watched me go through my marriages, biting her tongue, mostly.”
“Oh my.”