Sing the Wondrous Story

by Faith Blum

  Grandma Beulah waddled over to him and wrapped her arms around him. He bent down to accommodate her more easily. “I will pray as often as I remember. You just show them how much you love them, and God’ll do the rest.”

  “Thank you, Grandma Beulah. I’ll try to come visit you once in a while, too.”

  “Bless you, Jason. You don’t have to visit me, but I won’t turn you away either.”

  “I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” He headed toward the door and she followed slowly behind him. “You’ve been so kind and remind me of my own grandmother. She died when I was seven and I only have a few memories of her. I’d love to create some memories with you, too.”

  Grandma Beulah patted his arm. “You are a sweet lad, Jason.”

  They stepped out onto the porch and Jason helped her get into the rocker. “Have a good evening, Grandma Beulah.”

  “You, too. I’ll pray for you until I fall asleep.”

  Jason held back his laugh. “Thank you.” He led his horse to the well, pulled the bucket up, and dumped the water into the trough. The horse drank greedily for a few minutes. When he was done, Jason swung into the saddle and headed for town. This time, he sat up straighter and his mind and eyes were sharper.

  The sights and sounds were becoming more and more familiar. He marveled at the paradox of how two years could change so much and so little at the same time.

  The town came into view and besides the red, white, and blue bunting and other fancy decorations, it was very similar. Jason reined his horse in just inside the town limits and looked around. For a town that was supposed to be celebrating, it was sure dead. Not a single person walked on the street or the boardwalk. The only movement was a tumbleweed blowing lazily toward him. Where was everybody?

  He clucked to his horse and rode slowly through town. After a few feet, something reached his ears. He couldn’t quite make it out. A few more feet and he realized it was music. Another short distance and he figured out where the music was being played. The dance hall. The one that had partially been to blame for splitting his family those long years ago.

  Jason sighed and made his way to his house. Well, his parents’ house. Riding up, he noticed that the two-story, square structure had been whitewashed recently. The green shutters stood out from the brightness of the walls. He swallowed hard. What else had changed? Was his room even still available?

  He rode up to the stable, took care of his horse, brushing him down and feeding him some oats, then headed into the house with his saddlebags.

  “Hello?” he called. No one answered. Not that he had expected an answer. He had been the only one in the family to oppose the dance hall, and if there was a dance, he knew his sister would be there.

  The kitchen remained the same as always with the cast-iron stove and a small table in the room to work on. The door swung open into the dining room where the same table stood with plenty of chairs set up to seat four families the size of theirs. Nothing had changed in the downstairs and the upstairs looked to be about the same as well.

  He trudged up to his old room. Someone had kept it free of dust. Jessamine would never have done something like that, so it had to have been his mother. He threw the saddlebags on his bed and unpacked them. Jason glanced around the room and sighed. It would be a long wait, but maybe he could do some reading in his Bible.

  2. The Dance

  It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in want of a good husband must be able to attend a dance. Less universally known is the truth that a single woman of mediocre fortune must catch the eye of a man of good fortune by dressing as fashionably as possible.

  To receive the best possible outcome, days of shopping, sewing, worry, and fretting would ensue before every dance, and this was no different in the Poler home, especially as the Third Annual Town Ball crept ever closer.

  Jessamine Poler spent hours with her mother picking out the perfect material, pattern, lace, gloves, and dancing slippers. It took extra long because her father had set a price limit on their purchases. Jessa chafed at the idea that he wouldn’t spoil her for one more dance. She just knew if she could look her absolute best that she could catch the eye of Sidney DeBois or Ewell Pare—the richest and most eligible young men in town.

  The evening of the dance, Jessa stood in front of the full-length mirror, admiring the dress, lace, gloves, and the blond curls that framed her face perfectly. She patted her hair to ensure it would stay in no matter how much dancing she did, and she planned to do a lot.

  The deep blue of the dress offset the paleness of her face. She had a touch of red tinting on her cheeks and lips to make her look less like a doll and more like a human being. She sat on the bed and picked up her new white dancing slippers and smiled. By the end of the evening these slippers would be worn through and need to be thrown away. Which meant more shopping.

  Her smile grew as she slipped the shoes on and wiggled her toes to make sure they still fit. They did, of course, and she headed downstairs.

  “Hello, Mother.”

  Mrs. Poler looked up at her. “Jessa, you look lovely as always.”

  “Thank you, Mother. You do, too. Is Father ready?”

  A grumbling noise came from the stairs behind her and she turned to find her father vainly buttoning his cuffs. “No, Father isn’t ready because these cuffs are too tight.”

  Jessa stifled a laugh. “Let me help you, Daddy.”

  He glared at her. “I heard that snicker.” He held out his arms to her and she quickly slipped the buttons into the button holes.

  “All better,” she said, patting his arm. “Now are you ready?”

  “Aren’t we eating first?” Mr. Poler asked.

  Jessa sighed. “This dance has plenty of food as you know full well.”

  “I know, but you also know I don’t like eating in front of other people. We can take a few minutes so I can eat something.”

  Jessa clenched her teeth. “I’ll wait for you here. Just don’t take too long or I’ll walk there by myself.”

  Mr. Poler set his jaw. “You know I don’t like you doing that.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “So don’t dawdle.”

  “Jessa,” Mrs. Poler said in a warning tone, “don’t push your father. You can wait a few more minutes.”

  Jessa crossed her arms and tapped her toes on the floor. “Fine. I’ll wait.”

  Mr. Poler went to the kitchen and Jessa tapped her foot, shifted around, sighed, scowled, glanced from the kitchen door to the front door, and after a couple minutes, started muttering under her breath.

  “Can I go ahead of you two?”

  Mrs. Poler shook her head. “No. You need to wait for your father. You know he wants to be there with you the whole time.”

  Jessa clenched her jaw. “I can take care of myself. I don’t see—”

  Mrs. Poler put a finger over Jessa’s lips. “You may not agree with everything your father does and wants, but that doesn’t mean you have to be disrespectful. It makes your life as well as ours more miserable.”

  Jessa huffed. “Father wasn’t this strict before Jason left.”

  “You were also only fourteen and less pushy about finding the perfect husband.”

  “What’s wrong with wanting a husband?”

  “Nothing. It’s just...” Mrs. Poler hesitated. “I’m afraid you are looking in the wrong places and wrong way.”

  Jessa pursed her lips. “What is the right way and place?”

  Mrs. Poler sighed. “I’m not sure.”

  “You found Father at a dance, didn’t you?”

  “He found me there.”

  “And you’ve had a good marriage.”

  Mrs. Poler didn’t respond and Jessa’s breath caught. Did they have a good marriage? What made a good marriage? What made a bad one? Why didn’t she say anything about it?

  The kitchen door swung open. “I’m ready now.”

  The budding tension eased as he said those words.

  “Does tha
t mean we can finally get there?” Jessa flashed her most brilliant smile at him.

  “Yes, it does.” Mr. Poler took Mrs. Poler’s arm and threaded it through his. “Lead the way, Jessamine.”

  ***

  Couples spun around the dance floor when they arrived. Jessa quickly abandoned her parents and hunted down her friends, Marie and Carlina.

  “We were beginning to wonder if you would make it,” Carlina said.

  “Me, too,” Jessa said. “Father wanted to eat something before coming.”

  “Really?” Marie questioned. “But there is food here.”

  Jessa laughed. “That is what I said! Apparently he doesn’t like eating in front of people.”

  “What a lame excuse,” Marie said.

  Carlina nodded her head toward the door. “Look who just walked in.”

  Jessa sighed dreamily. “Sidney. One of the two most handsome men in town.”

  “And his name sounds better with yours than Ewell’s does,” Marie said.

  Jessa giggled. “Like that really matters.”

  Marie shrugged. “Probably not. Shall we go find someone to dance with?”

  “That’s why I’m here,” Jessa said. “To dance myself into finding a husband.”

  Carlina shook her head. “I don’t think dancing is the way to get a husband.”

  Jessa wrinkled her nose. “Why not?”

  “Because... I don’t know, it just isn’t,” Carlina replied.

  “It works in the novels, why wouldn’t it in real life?”

  Marie rolled her eyes. “Darling, novels are not real life. They don’t always work out that way.”

  “It worked for my parents,” Jessa replied. “But even if it doesn’t always work, it doesn’t hurt to try, either. Excuse me while I catch the eye of Sidney.” She primly made her way toward the handsome young man on the other side of the room until she was close enough to hear him talk to some of the other young men about some boring thing or another.

  While she waited for him to notice her, she smiled and nodded at everyone who passed by, keeping a close eye on the door to see who would come in. A couple of young men who walked by filled in a spot or two on her dance card. The dance finally stopped and all the young men Sidney was talking to looked up and made excuses about needing to find their partners.

  Pretty soon Sidney stood all by himself and looked around. He smiled at Jessa and she smiled back. Her smile faded slightly when he kept looking around.

  He obviously couldn’t find the person he wanted and he turned his gaze back to her. “May I have this dance?”

  “It would be my pleasure.” She held out her hand to him and they entered the dance floor.

  ***

  An hour later, her dance card was almost full of names—Sidney taking first place with three dances—and she stood with Marie and Carlina during one of the dances none of them had partners. A few other young women were around, too, listening and conversing together.

  “Oh my!” Jessa exclaimed. “Look at that young man who just walked in.”

  The girls all looked. “What about him?” Marie asked.

  “He’s so dusty,” Jessa answered. “Why would he come to a dance like he just got off a trail ride?”

  Carlina shrugged. “Maybe he did.”

  “Then he should have changed,” Jessa said. “I hope he doesn’t dance with anyone. I don’t want to risk my skirts brushing against him and getting them all dusty. Can you imagine how that would look?” She shuddered. “I certainly can’t and won’t.”

  The young man walked closer to them, looking around the room as if for a specific person. The dance ended and one of the girls asked, “So you wouldn’t dance with him if he asked?”

  Jessa’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t dance with him for any reason. He’s so dusty, unkempt, and his clothes are positively wrinkled. Ugh. I’d much rather dance with Sidney DeBois or Ewell Pare.”

  Carlina giggled. “Of course you would. They are the richest men in town besides their fathers.”

  Jessa sighed dreamily. “And quite handsome. Speaking of which, I believe Ewell is on his way over to claim his dance. Excuse me, ladies.”

  3. Surprise

  Jason tried to stay awake until his family got home, but the long ride in the hot sun combined with the lateness of the hour worked against him. The next thing he knew, the smell of bacon, coffee, and some form of sugary pastry wafted into his consciousness. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked a few times. He groaned and swung his legs off the bed, leaned his elbows on his knees, and ran his hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself a bit more.

  Since nobody knew he had come home, no one had filled the pitcher. He sighed and pulled a pair of wrinkled pants and an even more wrinkled shirt out of his saddlebag. So much for making a good impression for his family. Something fell out with the shirt and he stooped to pick it up. A smile graced his face and he sat on the bed, leaving the clothes on top of the bags.

  He caressed the book and then opened it. It fell open to the most read passage: Psalm 9.

  I will praise thee, O Lord, with my whole heart; I will shew forth all thy marvellous works. I will be glad and rejoice in thee: I will sing praise to thy name, O thou most High. When mine enemies are turned back, they shall fall and perish at thy presence. For thou hast maintained my right and my cause; thou satest in the throne judging right. Thou hast rebuked the heathen, thou hast destroyed the wicked, thou hast put out their name for ever and ever. O thou enemy, destructions are come to a perpetual end: and thou hast destroyed cities; their memorial is perished with them. But the Lord shall endure for ever: he hath prepared his throne for judgment.

  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. With the words running through his mind, he dressed into his less dusty clothes and headed downstairs.

  As he neared the kitchen, one voice could be heard chattering incessantly. He recognized Jessa’s voice, easily, even after three years. She always talked fast, used lots of words, and almost always talked about herself. He sighed and pushed the kitchen door open.

  All talking and noise stopped as soon as the door swished back into place. Everyone looked up with varying startled expressions.

  Jason smiled. “Surprise!”

  Jessa’s mouth dropped open. “Jason? Is that you under all that dust?”

  He chuckled. “Yes, it is. I would have washed up a little bit more, but was too tired last night and no one refilled the pitcher in my room because you didn’t know I would be home.”

  Mr. Poler clenched his jaw. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

  Mrs. Poler’s hand flew to her mouth. She looked around, stood up, and pulled Jason into a hug. “It is good to see you, son.”

  “You were here last night?” Jessa asked.

  Jason nodded.

  “When did you get in?” Mr. Poler asked.

  Mrs. Poler let go of him and got out a plate, glass, and fork for him. “And what have you done since you left?”

  He sat next to his mother and took a long drink of coffee before answering. “I was here last night, Jessa. I came in, heard the music at the dance hall, and decided to come here instead of going to the hall.”

  He dished up some hotcakes. “To answer Mother’s question, I’ve done a lot. Mostly I’ve done soul-searching and working wherever I can find something. I worked on ranches as a cowhand most of the time. I learned a lot of things during my time away.”

  “Like what?” Mrs. Poler asked, leaning in.

  Jason took a bite of bacon. “I learned to break horses, gentle horses, round up cattle, do a cattle drive, and that God can provide in any circumstance.”

  “Ugh,” Jessa said. “Are you still talking about God?”

  Jason pursed his lips. “Yes, I am.”

  “Why?” she asked. “What’s so great about Him?”

  Jason chewed his bottom lip. “Do you really want to know or are you venting?”

  Jessa dropped her fork on her plate and stood up slowl
y. “It is nice seeing you again. If you can manage to not talk about God, I will talk to you. If not, don’t bother speaking.” She stalked out of the room.

  Jason sighed quietly and concentrated on his plate of food.

  A hand touched his shoulder and his mother spoke, “She’s going through one of her phases. Don’t take what she says to heart. I am happy you are back.”

  He tried to smile and almost succeeded. “Thank you, Mother.”

  4. Life

  Over the next month, life worked out into a routine. If unpredictability could be considered routine. Jason talked about God anytime he possibly could and Jessa rarely talked when he was around because anytime she did, he brought Him up.

  She had liked it better when he was gone, when her mother only had all the attention on her or her father. Jessa spent her days either trying on new dresses, visiting her friends, or gazing at herself in the mirror. She was the prettiest girl in town, even if she was a head taller than all the girls her age and older. Although her height did seem to turn away some young men, Jessa didn’t mind. They obviously were not worth the time of day, anyway.

  One Sunday, Jason brought home a girl. When she walked in, Jessa couldn’t believe her eyes. The girl had to be the homeliest, ugliest girl to live in town. Her dress could have been wrapped around Jessa’s slender frame three times, her red hair frizzed unbecomingly out of her tight bun, and she had freckles all over her nose and even on her cheeks.

  “Mother, Father, Jessamine,” Jason said, “this is Claire Hopkins.”

  Mother stepped forward and hugged Claire. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Jason has told us so much about you the last couple of weeks.”

  Claire laughed quietly. “The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Poler. Jason speaks highly of you.”

  Father took Claire’s hand and gave it a gentlemanly kiss. “I know your father. He is a good man.”

  Claire’s face reddened. “Yes, he mentioned that you had been business partners once.”