When the song ends Daddy lets go of the men’s hands and everyone else does the same except for Lola and me. She yanks on my hand, pulling me closer to the water’s edge so we can see better. Six people are in the baptism queue, three adults and three children. Earl Felt, Mrs. Gardner, and Edna Warber will go after the kids, Chastity, Anita VanDyke, and LaVonne Davidson. Daddy takes off his suit coat and hands it to Burt. He walks backward into the lake and stops when the water reaches the waist of his black pants.
“‘Suffer the little children to come unto me,’” he says.
Chastity takes that as her cue. She slips out of her shoes and tiptoes out to Daddy, who is beaming like a brand-new lightbulb. Lola squeezes my palm so hard I have to pry her fingers off my hand. I think she’s even more excited about the whole baptism thing than Chastity.
“Easy, Lola,” I whisper. “You’re hurting my hand.”
“Sorry,” she says, and lightens her grip, but only a little.
Chastity has chosen a white peasant dress with puffy sleeves and a big bow in the back for her baptism. Joy promised her it wouldn’t be ruined in the lake but as soon as the water reaches the edge of Chastity’s dress she freezes and looks at Joy. Joy nods for her to go on. It takes half a minute for Chas to get up the nerve to take another step. Finally she turns back toward Daddy, who moves forward to take her hand. He pulls her to him until the water is just below her chest.
Daddy smiles at his daughter as she hands him the white lace hankie she borrowed from Mama’s dresser drawer.
“Chastity Ruth Carter, do you love the Lord?”
“Yes.” I see her mouth move to form the word, but I can’t actually hear her.
I hear Daddy just fine. “Do you understand that to be baptized is to be washed in the blood of the Holy Lamb of Christ?”
Chastity nods. Daddy lays the handkerchief over her face and holds her nose as he places his other hand behind her back and prepares to dip her.
“Then as a servant of our Lord I baptize thee in the name of the Father”—he dunks her once—“the Son”—under she goes again—“and the Holy Ghost.” One last dunk and then he stands Chastity back on her feet. “Amen.”
When she turns toward the beach her face says everything. Carefully curled hair lays flat to her head and the bow on her dress droops like wilted leaves. A ribbon of green slime clings to the front of her dress. She looks down at herself and then back up at the crowd. For a moment I think she’ll burst into tears, but when the people start to cheer “Praise the Lord!” her expression changes from disgust to delight. Suddenly it’s as if Chastity is onstage facing a throng of admiring fans. She smiles, hiding the agony of each disgustingly squishy step as she emerges from Cherry Lake.
Mrs. Franks drapes a towel over Chastity’s shoulders and points her in the direction of the lodge, where a couple of church ladies are waiting to help her out of her wet things. She gently steps away from the crowd. As soon as they turn back toward Daddy, Chastity runs willy-nilly up the hill to get out of those soggy clothes.
Anita VanDyke and LaVonne Davidson go next, then Sharon Gardner, who cries all the way through her baptism. She hugs Daddy a little too long, pressing herself against him in a wet dress that is now nearly see-through. Daddy motions for Mr. Franks to come get her. Mr. Franks wades out and just about has to pry Mrs. Gardner off Daddy.
Lola nudges me with her shoulder. “Whoa. Did you see that?”
“Hard to miss,” I say.
Earl Felt rolls up his pant leg and drops his wooden leg on the bank. I’ve never seen his stump before, the result of a tractor accident way back when he was a teenager. He hops to Daddy on one leg but manages pretty well both out and back.
And then all that’s left is Edna Warber. The crowd falls nearly silent. This is the biggest gathering Daddy has had since he became pastor of The Church of the Word. It’s no secret that most of them are here to see big Edna sink or float. A giggle escapes from Lola, but I give her a look. I don’t want to get in trouble and also I feel a little sorry for Edna.
Edna waddles her way slowly toward Daddy, her left fist tightly closed around a plain white hankie held high above her head. She’s draped in a multicolored muumuu that looks like a bedspread with head and arm holes. When she finally reaches Daddy he goes through the usual list of questions. Then he gathers up all his faith and gently tilts Edna, who surrenders to his arms.
“In the name of the Father . . .” Daddy’s voice trembles.
In the moments that follow it feels as though we are all under the water with Edna. Lola holds her breath and puffs out her cheeks like Louis Armstrong preparing to play his trumpet. Some of the ladies have their hands over their mouths.
“. . . and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost!” he blurts out all at once, with a desperate look toward Burt and Mr. Franks. The deacons rush into the water, shoes and all, to help rescue Edna from drowning and Daddy from a hernia. The three of them reach down and pull Edna to her feet. She sputters and coughs as everyone lets out a breath together. The men stand beside her like proud doctors who have just delivered their first baby. They glance at each other, not wanting to embarrass Edna but not knowing what to do next.
It’s Edna who breaks the tension. She lets out a laugh and splashes Burt. Burt smiles as he reaches down and splashes Edna back. When Mr. Franks laughs she splashes first him, then Daddy. Mr. Franks turns around and splashes Burt. Lola lets go of my hand and races into the water, kicking and splashing. The next thing I know the whole crowd of onlookers are in the water having a splash fight. Everyone except Daddy, who quietly walks around the edge of his crazed congregation and up the hill to the lodge, his white feet flashing like deer tails in the dune grass.
Daddy never said a word about it on the way home. I think part of him wanted to splash along with the rest of us, but the preacher part wouldn’t let him. The thing that struck me most about what happened today was that he didn’t try to stop us. It was one of the most generous things I’ve ever seen him do for his parishioners and as far as I know, the best baptism service Cherry Lake has ever known.
* * *
I know Daddy only said yes to me spending the night here at Lola’s because she came to the baptism service with me today. Maybe he’s convinced I can bring her to the Lord, or better yet, convert her whole family. I have no intention of trying to convince anyone here to become a Christian. I’ve seen the Purdys’ rituals, how they celebrate the winter solstice and worship God’s creation of nature every single day. Watching Catherine plant a tree and say a blessing over it last year seemed about as sacred a thing as any Scripture I’ve ever read. And that tree is thriving, so maybe God hears all the prayers, even the ones from heathens.
Lola and I sit with our feet dangling in the shallow end of their pond. John dumped a bunch of baby turtles in the water, but the raccoons and possums got all but one. Now it’s just lily pads, cattails, and a solitary shy turtle.
Lola points to the edge of the pond. “There it is!”
I squint, trying to see what she sees. “That’s not a turtle, it’s a leaf.” I toss a small stone in the direction she pointed to prove it. The leaf tilts to one side before flipping upside down.
“Dang it. I thought that was him.”
“Are you sure the critters haven’t gotten to it?”
“Maybe. I hope not.”
We watch a group of water spiders scoot across the surface of the pond, leaving little ripples behind them. The sun has made its way to the far end of the sky. Crickets start singing their heads off at the edge of the woods, and a whip-poor-will practices its evening song. Demeter and Persephone whinny back as if in conversation. Lola slaps a mosquito on her arm, smearing a tiny splotch of blood. She stands and wipes her hands on the seat of her cutoff shorts.
“The sun’s almost down. Wanna go inside?”
I tilt my head back to look up at her. “Would you mind if I hang around here for a while?”
“Of course not. Do you want me to stay?�
�
“No, I’ll be in later.”
“Okay. Be careful not to trip on any bricks near the back door when you come in. John’s building a kiln for us.” She laughs and adds, “Someday.”
“I’ll be careful,” I say.
Lola leads the horses to the barn, then runs into the house. I sit until the moon rises above the pond, casting a ball of light on the surface. The air is humid and a dank smell radiates from the water hole. I glance around to make sure nobody is watching before slipping into the dark water. I’m still wearing my Sunday dress from earlier today and it billows around me. The bottom of the pond is pure muck and feels slimy under my feet, but I keep going. I stop when I’m chest-deep.
Drawing in a big breath, I close my eyes and dip under. The warm water rushes into my ears, drowning out everything except my thoughts. As I come up for air I say the words out loud. “In the name of the Father”—dipping again—“the Son”—one more dip—“and the Holy Ghost.” I push the wet hair off my face and turn, coming face-to-face with the turtle. He blinks slowly, little moons reflected in his watery eyes, before he dunks and swims away.
“Amen,” I say.
When I get to the bank a hand reaches for mine and pulls me onto the grass. Catherine drapes a colorful blanket around my shoulders and grasps my arms. She looks into my face and smiles. “Amen,” she whispers, before pulling me to her chest and wrapping her arms around me. I sob into her collarbone, soaking her blouse with pond water and a lifetime’s worth of tears.
29
Summer is almost over and still Mama lies half in this world, half out. I’m the only one who rides along with Daddy to visit her anymore. Not even Hope. Now that she been accepted to become a missionary in Africa next spring, she has taken to praying for herself more than she does others. Chastity spends most days showing off her tan down at the beach. What she misses in attention from Mama she gets from the boys—most who would never guess she’s barely thirteen. Joy started taking summer classes in order to graduate a year early. So it’s just Daddy and me who will visit Mama today, each of us with our own private reasons for wanting her to get better.
“Hurry up, Grace,” he says as I tie my shoes.
A knock on the door startles us. We both turn to see Sheriff Conner standing on the other side of the screen door.
“Reverend Carter?”
Daddy opens the door, but the sheriff stays put on the stoop.
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?”
“I was wondering if I could have a word with Grace.”
“We’re about to leave for the hospital. Can it wait until later?”
I take a few steps backward, trying to make myself invisible behind Daddy.
“It’s about the Anderson girl.”
“The blind girl? I thought the family left town.”
“The grandmother did. But the girl . . . she’s still missing.” He takes off his hat and wipes his head before putting it back on. “It will only take a moment, Reverend.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Sheriff. We’ll add them to our prayer list.” Daddy narrows his eyes at me, then turns back toward the door. “Does this have anything to do with that Lyle Miller?”
“I can’t say, sir.”
Daddy frowns. “Grace is a juvenile. Anything you need to ask her you can ask in front of me.”
I feel the blood go out of my face despite my heart pounding a mile a minute. If he tells Daddy about my vision with the quilt, Daddy will be furious. I step out from behind Daddy and plead with my eyes for him to keep our secret.
“Hello, Grace.” He turns back to Daddy. “I understand, Reverend. I’ll come back when you have more time.”
He tips his hat and walks down the front steps. I let out my breath in relief.
As Daddy and I walk toward the VW bus I notice the sheriff accidentally drop his handkerchief.
“You dropped something,” I say.
He turns and watches as I stoop to pick up the white cloth. It’s not a hankie, it’s a sock. A girl’s anklet with lace trim. As soon as I touch it my body goes stiff and cold. Sheriff Conner nods ever so slightly at me. I ball the sock up in my fist, trembling, then drop it back on the ground. I know where the blind girl is.
Sheriff Conner bends over to retrieve the sock.
“Cherry Lake,” I whisper before running to the bus on wobbly legs that feel like rubber.
“Anything you need to tell me, young lady?” Daddy asks when we pull out on the highway.
“No, sir.”
Neither of us say a word the whole rest of the way to the hospital. I don’t want to think about that poor defenseless blind girl. I try to shake the thoughts from my mind. I understand why Mama blocked the Knowing. I don’t want to know what happened to her or how she ended up in the lake. I just want to sit with Mama on her swing in her special place and forget about everything else. Being with Mama calms me. I wish I could stay there with her forever.
When we get to Mama’s room, Daddy stands with me by her bed for a while, part of the time praying silently and part of the time just staring at her. I get tired of standing and sit in the padded chair next to Daddy. Eventually he leaves me alone with her so he can call on other patients.
“No funny stuff,” he says. “I mean it.”
I nod and wait for him to leave.
Something is different today. I’m not sure if it’s the light or the place, but as soon as I cross over I know something is definitely out of the ordinary. We’re not alone, Mama and me.
“Mama?”
“Grace. It’s you.”
Her voice is like candy.
“Yes, Mama. Where are you?”
“We’re over here. In the grass.”
We? I turn my head to follow her voice and there she is. There they are. She smiles, the sweetest, fullest smile to ever fill her face.
“Who’s that with you, Mama?”
His back is to me, blond hair so light it looks like a halo around his head. An angel? I feel myself moving, not walking, more like a movie camera zooming toward the center of this place, the center of my mind and Mama’s world.
“Welcome, Grace. We’ve been waiting for you.”
As soon as he speaks I feel every cell in my body unfold.
“Isaac?”
He turns his head to face me. Tears tickle at the back of my eyes, then flood my face. He’s beautiful. Blond, like Mama and my sisters, but the same height as me.
“Isaac!”
It’s been nearly fifteen years since I’ve touched my brother, since we were curled up against each other in Mama’s belly. I fall into his arms, filled with the memory of the most familiar thing I’ve ever known.
“Isaac! Isaac, it’s really you.”
He holds me tighter. “It’s me,” he says.
Panic surges through me like a quickened pulse. “Wait? Why are you here? You’re not taking her . . .”
“I was just talking with Mama.”
I glance at our mother. She’s beaming.
“But why? How? Does this mean she’s going away?”
“No, Grace,” he says, holding my hand.
Mama takes my other hand so we’re standing in a circle. “I’m not dead and I’m not dying,” he says.
“Then why . . . ?”
“She called for me. The same way you do sometimes. I’ve just shared with her how much she’s needed. How much you need her.”
I look into my brother’s clear blue eyes, wanting more than everything to believe him. He tilts his head and smiles, the sun highlighting the heart-shaped birthmark on his neck.
“Mama? Are you going to wake up? Are you going to come back to us?”
Before she can answer, a loud voice bellows behind me. I feel my hands slipping out of Isaac’s and Mama’s grasp. The three of us look around for the source of the intrusion. I feel myself being pulled backward through a dark tunnel. I can barely see Mama and Isaac, who now look like tiny lights at the end of a hollow tube.
&n
bsp; “Mama! Isaac!” My voice echoes in the tunnel.
A searing pain in my shoulder brings me back to the hospital room. Daddy has jerked me up out of Mama’s bedside chair, his eyes wild with anger.
“We’re going! Now!” he yells, spit flying from his mouth.
“But, Daddy! I have to talk to her! I have to tell her to come home!”
He yanks again on my arm and I yelp. I look back at Mama as he drags me out of the room, pleading with my thoughts, but her expression is flat.
We drive home with me holding my arm, sobbing, and Daddy mumbling under his breath. It’s the longest half hour of my life. Finally, we pull into the driveway. I grab the door handle, but he reaches across me and locks the door.
“What?” I glare at him. As much as I love my daddy, he has really hurt me. Not just my arm, but the fact that he yanked me out of Mama’s and Isaac’s reach before we were finished. He’s ruined everything.
“I want to talk to you.” He says it firmly, in his preacher voice.
I don’t say anything.
“We’re going to hold a special prayer meeting next Wednesday.”
I turn to face him. “It’s my turn to watch Marilyn on Wednesday.”
“You’re coming to the meeting. In fact, the meeting will be especially for you.”
“For me? Why?”
His thin lips tighten into a straight line. “Because I said so, that’s why. We’re going to pray for you.”
“But I don’t need praying for, Daddy. Mama does.”
“Right now you need the Lord even more than your mama. There’s something dangerously peculiar going on with you and I believe it may be the work of the devil.”
“I am not peculiar!” I blurt, surprising even myself.
This I Know Page 24