Great Jehoshaphat and Gully Dirt! Part 31

I twisted round to see who was letting more of that Christmas wind swoosh through the church door. It was stirring up the leaves of my dress, and they had to stay down smooth and nice!

It was Miss Ophelia, bringing in her string of little red-headed young'uns and Miss d.i.n.k. But Miss Ophelia didn't have her new little baby with her. It was just as well that she hadn't brought him. She was having to use one hand to lead her two little girls down the aisle and the other to guide Miss d.i.n.k along and keep her from b.u.mping against the heater. Why'd Miss d.i.n.k come, anyway? She couldn't see our high, sparkling tree, or the toys and presents, or the red paper bells and streamers hanging in cl.u.s.ters from the ceiling. Miss d.i.n.k couldn't even see my tree dress!

There were so many of Miss Ophelia's kids I could tell it was going to take nearly two benches to hold them. Wallace Goode's mama and her sister got up and moved across the aisle to another bench so the Lawsons would have plenty of room. Miss Ophelia sort of bowed and told them, "Much obliged, much obliged," over and over.

Finally, she got all the young'uns in place and Miss d.i.n.k settled, and she sat down on the front slat of their bench. I thought she would lean back and start smiling and talking to the folks around her, the same as everybody else. She didn't. She just stayed perched there on the edge of that one thin plank like a scared bird, afraid of having to fly away any minute.

"Bandershanks, turn around!" Mama whispered, "and quit staring at people. It's impolite."

Papa started talking and worrying about Grandpa Thad.

"Nannie, I do wish Pa had come. He would've enjoyed it."

"I tried to persuade him, Jodie. But 'course he felt like he had to stay with your ma."

"I reckon so."

"Guess who did come in a few minutes ago?" Now Mama was talking louder, and like she was happy.

"Who?"

"Lida Belle and Wes Bailey. They're sitting back yonder on the last bench."

"I saw their rip-snorting boys ride past the store. Wes'd better watch out. Them boys will run his bays to death."

"They pa.s.sed us just a-galloping. You know, Jodie. I don't reckon Lida Belle and Wes have been to a tree in this church in ten years-oh, longer than that. Wonder what's come over them."

"Funny thing. Wes Bailey came into the store day before yesterday and bought an expensive blue silk tie. Said it was for the tree."

"I helped Vic put on the toys for Ophelia's young'uns and looked at all the presents, but I didn't notice whose name was on that blue tie."

"And, Nannie, Lida Belle bought twenty-one yards of piece goods! First thing when she got in the store, she went 'round behind the counter and began fingering every bolt of cloth on the shelves. Why, it took her a good half hour to settle on what she wanted; and when she did, she got seven yards of purple calico, seven of yellow, and seven of the red."

"Well, Jodie, I wonder if the reason Wes and Lida Belle haven't been coming to church on Christmas Eve is 'cause all these years the schoolteachers have never once given Ad-die Mae or the three Bailey boys a part on the program. 'Course I doubt if any one of them could, or would, learn a recitation, even if a teacher a.s.signed it to them."

"I don't know. I always thought the reason they hadn't been coming was because of the old feud."

"Lida Belle and Wes weren't mixed up in the feud, were they, Jodie?"

"No, they weren't old enough. But Old Lady Bailey lived with them so long and harped on the feud so much, I reckon maybe they got to thinking they could get tangled up in its aftermath.

Sometimes, you know, old folks can hand down hate and spite easier than they can pa.s.s on a single idea worth a hoot! The old soul probably raved most about the Christmas Eve her pa's cousin was murdered in Millers Chapel."

"In Millers Chapel? That's new to me, Jodie. I never heard of a killing in that old church!"

"Folks quit talking it, it was so bad. I don't know what year it was, but that final and worst killing was when I was still a boy. It was on just such a fine Christmas Eve night as this."

Papa took off his heavy jacket and kept talking.

"Folks from Drake Eye Springs and Tubal and Millers Crossing had come for miles. You couldn't find one empty bench in the whole meeting house that night; in fact, a good many had to stand. That was the only church in these parts then.

"The shooting was right after the program. There was the usual confusion as everyone began going up front to claim their gifts. Folks said afterwards that some of the Williams men and grown boys had been drinking pretty heavy. The one they called Jake was talking uncommonly loud. He was, by the way, a great uncle to Ward Lawson.

"So, when Jake Williams kept making such a nuisance of himself, Old Mister Gus Parker-he was sitting across the aisle from him-hollered out, 'Jake Williams, you get quiet! We can't hear 'em readin' out the names!'

"Jake hollered back, 'Here's you a Christmas present, you old Parker coot!' And he grabbed out his pistol and shot the old gentleman dead, right there in the church!"

"No!"

"Mrs. Parker started screaming, Jake run out the door, and somebody blowed out the lights! Then every man in the house took to the woods. Left women and young'uns to get out and get home the best way they could!"

"It must've been a frightful thing!"

"It was, Nannie. 'Course the next morning the Parkers went back to the church to get Old Man Gus's body. But the tree with all the Christmas stuff was left standing there for weeks. Folks didn't have the heart to go back in the building.

"The following spring when the trial came up, Jake was convicted, but he broke jail and got away. Old Judge Crawford had all the rest of the Williamses, by name, to clear outta the country. And what few Parker men were left took their families and moved off too. They figured the killing could flare up again among some of the Williamses' blood relations, and there wouldn't be a Parker man or boy left to carry on their name. Wes Bailey's ma was one of the few who stayed behind. 'Course she was already married. Anyway, all the Baileys, except Addle Mae, are here tonight, and I'm glad. It's not good for a family to live to themselves so much. Besides, it's Christmas, and we ought'a all share it together."

"Looks to me like Wes and Lida Belle would've had Addle Mae come home for Christmas. There's something mighty strange about them letting her stay down in Louisiana so long."

"I reckon that's their business, Nannie."

Chapter 9

We heard the organ squeak. I turned quickly to watch Bess as she started pumping on the foot pedals. I knew she would wait just a little before she began pressing down the black and white keys. She had to get a sackful of air into the organ before it could make music. She had explained that to me lots of times.

In a minute Bess began playing. Mama and Papa quit whispering to each other, and everybody else got quiet, too. The organ's pedals and bellows sounded louder than ever, but Bess kept pumping her feet up and down, faster and faster. She pulled out more and more stops till the music drowned out the organ's whining and wheezing.

"That pump organ's gotta be fixed, Jodie!" Mama whispered.

"Yeah, I know."

Aunt Vic stepped out from between the center curtains. Bess stopped playing.

"Let us all rise and repeat together the Lord's Prayer. And please remain standing for the hymn-selection one-eighteen."

We all stood up and said the Our-Father-Which-Art-In-Heaven prayer, and then everybody except me began singing a slow, sweet-sounding song I'd never heard before about the Holy Night.

As soon as we sat down, Bess left the organ and went behind the curtain. I didn't know what would be next. "Papa, will we get the presents now?"

"Not yet," he whispered. "I think the schoolteacher's going to speak to us."

Mister Shepherd went over to the pulpit stand. First, he said good evening to us all, and then he began making a speech.

He spoke about as loud as Brother Milligan, but I couldn't understand much of what he was saying. I could always understand Brother Milligan, for he said the same things every time-all about dying and going to h.e.l.l and somebody putting goats on one side and sheep on the other for Judgment Day. I knew all the part about h.e.l.lfire and brimstone burning and about weeping and wailing and gnas.h.i.+ng of teeth.

But Mister Shepherd didn't even mention the fire and red-hot brimstones that Brother Milligan said were forever waiting for the d.a.m.ned. Mister Shepherd seemed to want everybody in the church to think about Christmas Eve instead of d.a.m.nation. I was glad, because h.e.l.l is too far away to think about.

"This is a night," the schoolteacher was saying, "for the old, young, and all of us in between! How wonderful it is that you've come and brought your children and grandchildren to see the beautiful tree, to get their gifts, and to hear the story told once more.

"It's important that we keep our festive customs and traditions. They smooth the roughness of life. But it's even more important that we hold fast to our sacred beliefs and pa.s.s them down. They ease life's pain, give it purpose.