The Future Homemakers of America

by Laurie Graham

  ‘I sure do,’ she said. ‘We went to the beach afterwards and had boiled shrimp and Aunty Kath was there, and Crystal, and that kid who kept pinching me when nobody was looking.’

  ‘Kirk,’ I said. ‘By all accounts he's turned into a big handsome heartthrob.’

  ‘That right?’ she said. She was lacing up her big rubber-soled shoes. ‘Well, who'd have thought it?’

  Slick Bonney came with us to the Assembly of God. Whatever Betty wanted to do was what Slick wanted. We could tell from two blocks away there was gonna be a big crowd. Everybody in town seemed to be heading the same way. By the time we parked and pushed our way through, all we could get was seats right at the back.

  ‘I knew I should have got off work early,’ Betty said. ‘Now Gayle'll never see us, right back here.’

  ‘Tell you what I'll do, precious,’ Slick said! ‘You write her a note and I'll give it to one of the ushers. Give him a dollar, get it passed up to her.’

  Betty turned scarlet, me hearing Slick call her ‘precious’.

  It got there was standing-room only and still they were packing people in. There was an electric organ playing. Then a pastor stepped out up front and asked us to be silent and prayerful. He had a kinda Mexican look about him but everybody was respectful to him. Nearly everybody. Slick was coaxing wax outta his ear and when the little brown pastor asked us to bow our heads, I heard him say, ‘Bow my head when I'm good and ready, beaner.’ He said it real quiet, though.

  We sang ‘No Other Name’ and then he brought on Lemarr and Gayle and the whole place erupted. It was like a show at Cesar's Palace. Lemarr was in a beautiful suit, dark grey, white cotton shirt fresh outta Bloomies. He looked like a senator or something. Gayle was in electric-blue, peplum jacket, pencil skirt, and a single row of pearls.

  ‘St-a-a-and up for Jesus!’ she cried. And there wasn't a body in that church didn't get to their feet. ‘I was down and out,’ she said, ‘and the Lord lifted me up. I drank hard liquor and spoke profanities. My soul dwelled in a dark corner because I believed Lord Jesus had abandoned me. But friends, it was me had abandoned Him. “Come to Me, all you who labour and are heavy laden,” He said, “and I will give you rest,” Matthew, 11:28. But the only place I was interested in going was the liquor store. “If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear,” Mark, 4:23, but the only sound I enjoyed was the glugging of my next drink. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” Matthew, 5:8, but I was looking at life through the bottom of a glass. Friends, the Lord sent Lemarr Passy looking for me. The good pastor found me, frying eggs and pouring coffee for truckers. He saw through the hardness of my heart. He endured the coarseness of my tongue and the darkness of my unbelief. He persevered with me to bring me to the love of our Lord. He promised me I'd be lifted up outta my despair. And I was lifted up. I was … lifted up …’

  She sang ‘Lift Me Up, Lord’. That was when I really believed it was Gayle. That high sweet voice of hers, just the same as when she used to sing ‘Hushabye Baby’ to Sandie.

  By the time she got to the end she was kinda overcome with emotion so Lemarr took up the story, about how they had battled with the waywardness of Gayle's heart and prayed on it and how it had come to them that she was called to the ministry of healing. Gayle was holding his hand. Betty was holding my hand. She kept ‘ saying to the woman in the next seat, ‘This is our friend,’ but the woman was listening to Lemarr.

  He preached about the healing of two blind men and a man possessed of a demon and just as he was finishing up with a prayer, Gayle called out, ‘There's somebody here tonight with terrible pain in their knee and the Lord is ready to heal them.’

  A woman right there at the front got up and shouted, ‘It's me! It's me!

  Slick said, ‘That's woman's nothing but a shill. They planted her, get gullible folks believing.’ And I must say, she did leap to her feet pretty nimble for a person supposed to be in pain.

  Gayle said, ‘The Lord is healing you now. You have a shard of cartilage floating around, causing your suffering, but believe and the Lord will heal you.’

  Slick said, ‘Now she'll say she can feel something at work. I know anything, it'll be tingling.’

  Betty hushed him.

  The woman with the knee had started calling out, ‘I feel something happening. It's like electric tingling. I believe! I believe!’

  Slick sucked his teeth.

  There were other people trying to get up front too, all got pain in their knees, I guess. But Gayle was calling out somebody with a spondylitis of the spine that the Lord wanted to heal and a woman who was suffering secretly with a prolapse of the womb.

  ‘Well, I am scandalised,’ Betty said. ‘Healing a thing like that in mixed company.’

  There was healed folk dancing around by the altar, people down on their knees with their arms held up high, the organ was playing ‘Amazing Grace’ with Gayle leading the singing and the ushers were passing among us with buckets, so we could honour the Lord with our free-will offerings of cash or cheques.

  Me and Betty both tried waving to Gayle, try and catch her eye, but she was deep in prayer and anyway, the whole darned place was full of waving arms. I doubt she even got Betty's note. Everybody was asked to remain seated until Pastors Gayle and Lemarr had left the building and started their onward journey to Abilene.

  ‘Well!’ Betty said. ‘Least she could have done was come back for an iced tea.’

  Slick said, ‘Don't you give her another thought, darlin’. She ain't worth a light. Fame goes to a person's head, you might as well forget them because they'll forget you.’

  I said, ‘Betty, I don't think she even knew we were here. Long list of places they've been preaching, different place every night, she probably don't even know for sure what town she's in.’

  Still, I did feel kinda flat. Everybody was just pulling on their jackets, like it was the end of a movie.

  Betty said, ‘What about the ones that got healed? I'd sure like to speak with them. Find out what it felt like.’

  Slick said, ‘Well, tell me now, do you see any of them?’

  The man with the frozen neck had been wearing a mustard-yellow pullover. That much I did remember. But we couldn't see him anywhere.

  I said, ‘They must have all left.’

  ‘Darned right, they did,’ he said. ‘They gotta drive to Abilene. Get healed again tomorrow night.’

  ‘Now, Slick,’ Betty said, ‘you don't know Gayle like we do. She's a good, gentle girl, seen more suffering in her life than the three of us put together. I'm not saying I hold with folks dancing around, taking off their shirts in a house of God, but I have to believe what I seen tonight. She has the power of healing and there's only one place it could have come from.’

  ‘Okay, honey,’ he said. He was helping her on with her wrap. ‘I believe! I believe!’ He winked at me.

  But he didn't know Gayle. I couldn't believe she'd be scamming people for money. But then, I didn't much like the other idea neither. If she was really performing miracles, she wasn't our little Gayle any more.

  Slick drove us home, but he didn't come in. ‘Guess you girls'll be up half the night jawing,’ he said.

  He was right too. Betty made Velveeta scrambled eggs with sliced banana and hot drop-biscuits and we talked till it nearly was daylight.

  She said, ‘What do you think, Peggy? Have we seen the Lord at work tonight?’

  I said, ‘Don't know what I think. Probably ‘cause we've known her so long. But you thought it was for real.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘But I can't get over her coming to San Antonio and snubbing me. She was glad enough to come here after Ray was killed. She'd have been all on her own for Thanksgiving, if you and me hadn't looked after her.’

  I said, ‘Well, seems like she's in show business now, and that can change a person.’

  ‘It's true,’ she said. ‘Look what's happened to Elvis Presley. And you know, healing may be a gift from God an’ all, but I wouldn't want
it. People bringing their sickness and sorrows to you. People getting their hopes up.’

  I agreed with her. If I'd have been Gayle, I'd sooner have stayed wiping down that coffee counter hundred times a day than have strangers bringing me their prolapses. I said, ‘Slick didn't believe.’

  She said, ‘He will. I won't have him calling Gayle a fraud. Even if she did snub us.’

  I said, ‘You ever gonna marry him?’

  ‘Oh, don't start on that,’ she said. ‘Deana's always on, I could move in with Slick. He's got a nice split-level out Randolph way, then her and Bulldog could get this place.’

  Might have known Deana'd be putting her mom's happiness first. I said, ‘This Bulldog treating your grandbabies okay?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘He's great, for a man never had any of his own. He idolises them.’

  I said, ‘Well, I can't say I blame you, not giving up your home. Get to our age, a woman has to look out for herself. Slick does treat you nice, though. I get the impression he'd just about do anything for you.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘Tell you the truth, though, Peggy, I never did care much for the married side of life.’

  72

  When Carla came home from her night-shift, I was trying to find my way round Betty's kitchen, make some coffee. We'd only had a couple of hours’ sleep.

  Carla said, ‘Well?’

  I said, ‘It was amazing. Gayle was standing up there, singing hymns all on her own. Healing floating cartilages. And when they passed the buckets round, you should have seen the bills people were dropping in.’

  Betty put her head round the door, looking the worse for wear, wondering whether she dared to call in sick. She always was a woman who needed her sleep.

  Carla said, ‘Gayle do raisings from the dead? Looks like we could do with her here this morning.’

  She sat with me while Betty showered.

  I said, ‘You ever hear from your daddy?’

  ‘Only in a roundabout way,’ she said. ‘Mom has Glick cousins up there and anything happens in Warsaw, they get to hear about it.’

  ‘He working?’

  ‘He was,’ she said. ‘He was driving a truck. Transporting hogs up to Chicago. Then he got mad at some traffic lights, said they were slower'n shit so he fixed them with his shotgun. He got in the papers. I don't know what he's doing right now Mainly we just get the bad news about him. How long are you staying?’

  Betty wasn't the only one dithering about the day ahead. I still hadn't made up my mind if I was gonna knock on my mom's door before I headed home. It seemed like a terrible thing to pass her by when I was so near, specially after all that hymn-singing and praying. But, as I explained to Carla, I knew if I did pay her a visit I'd come away with murder in my heart, specially if sister Connie was around, and that wasn't a Christian way to think neither.

  I said, ‘I've oftentimes wondered if they didn't mix up the babies at the nursing home.’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I expect it's a common fantasy.’

  Betty had decided to do the right thing. ‘If I call in, play sick, I know what'll happen,’ she said. ‘Next thing I really will get sick. God watches.’

  I said, ‘Okay, you do your duty and I'll do mine.’

  I hugged her goodbye. The older I got, the Better I liked her.

  I drove past Mom's place and parked three houses down. There was nobody about. As I remembered it, when we moved in there was kids in every house in the street. Then there was older folk, with kids grown up and gone. Middle-aged, I guess, but to me they seemed like old-timers. Then they got to be real old. After that, I guess the whole thing starts over. New families coming in.

  I could hear a dog barking, out the back. I could smell fried food. Big fat guy, put me in mind of a sea lion, come waddling out.

  I said, ‘Mrs Shea home?’

  He just looked at me. There was something about the vacant look in his eyes, and the fact he was wearing a belt-buckle the size of a hubcap, made me connect him with my sister.

  I said, ‘How about Connie?’

  ‘Connie!’ he yelled. ‘It's the Avon woman.’

  She took her time coming to the door. She always was a slow mover.

  ‘Well,’ she said, ‘just look what the cat left on the step.’

  If there was one thing my sister Connie had a gift for it was turning a house into a health-hazard. I may not have much good to say about my mom, but at least she'd wipe out her skillet once in a while. At least when she unwrapped a pack of smokes she didn't let the cellophane just drop wherever she was standing.

  There was still the same rug on the floor, autumn leaves motif, Mom's pride and joy when she got it. There was a new couch and chairs, though, and a big TV. Connie offered me a soda and Bobby Earl went back to watching Scooby Doo. I gathered his name was Bobby Earl ‘cause that's what he had scorched out on the back of his belt. Actually, it said BOBBY EAR. He had made the letters so big I guess he'd run outta space for the L.

  I said, ‘Where's Mom?’

  ‘On the old-age ward at State,’ she said.

  I said, ‘Since when? She real sick?’

  ‘She was a danger to herself,’ she said. ‘I did the best I could. And you've got some ginger, blowing in like this, asking questions.’

  Mom had been in the hospital about seven months. She'd started wandering off, getting up in the middle of the night insisting she had to be somewhere urgent, putting on three or four pairs of underwear and nothing on her top half.

  I said, ‘She getting better?’

  She laughed. ‘They don't get better. They get worse, then they die.’

  Connie had ceased visiting her some while before. ‘She didn't know me from Davy Crockett,’ she said, ‘so what's the point, dragging all the way out there, using up gas?’

  I said, ‘Why didn't you call me? I'd have come.’

  ‘What for?’ she said. ‘You never called us. Anyway, she never asked for you. Matter of fact, I think she wrote you off for dead.’

  I said, ‘I'm in Dallas, Connie, not the Arctic Circle. And the last time I came visiting she didn't even turn off the TV.’

  The little walrus-tusk Bambi was still on the shelf.

  I said, ‘She got everything she needs?’

  She said, ‘Why don't you go and see for yourself. Could be your last chance.’

  I said, ‘Don't give me a hard time here, Connie. I'm sorry I haven't been around; but all those years I was here, I swear I couldn't do right for doing wrong. She didn't like me marrying Vern. Then she didn't like me splitting up from him. She didn't like me living in foreign parts. She didn't like me turning up here, treating the place like a hotel, as she used to say. Some hotel! And I'll tell you what, all the years Crystal was growing up, Mom never spent a cent on her. Vern's folks'd send stuff, didn't matter where we were in the world, they never missed her birthday. Not Mom, though.’

  Bobby Ear turned round, gave me an ugly look. I guess I was ruining his enjoyment of the Tootsie Roll commercial. Person gets distracted for a few seconds, he could lose the plot easy.

  Connie said, ‘She's on Vicksburgh, if you're going.’

  I could feel the soles of my shoes kinda sticking to the rug as I left.

  ‘She starts up about folk stealing her money,’ Connie said, ‘pay no attention. The doctor up there told me, it's a very common thing that a old person believes they've been robbed. They hear it all the time.’

  Bobby Ear got to his feet when Crystal was showing me to the door. ‘This furniture is all mine,’ he said. ‘And the TV.’

  ‘You look like you're doing okay,’ Connie said.

  It crossed my mind to leave her a few bucks, conscience money. Then it crossed my mind that it wouldn't be wise to give her and the sea lion expectations.

  I drove along by Topperwein High on my way to State, made myself feel real melancholy thinking of how the years fly by. Thinking of Jim Sparks, cut down in Korea, and Slick, still going home every night to a lonely bed and his
tractor catalogues, and me, that used to be the star of the Softball team, got stiff ankles and hot flashes and a daughter learning to stuff muskrats.

  73

  The nurse said, ‘Mrs Shea? Yeah, she'll be in the day room.’

  I said, ‘I've been out of town.’

  She said, ‘Well, she won't know that. She don't know what day it is. You family?’

  I started trying to explain how come my mom had been there seven months and I only just found out. Blaming Connie. Blaming pressure of work. Trying to explain to this nurse, young enough to be my own daughter. Like she could care.

  She said what happens is, bit by bit the brain closes down and eventually it stops altogether. She said they did what they could with them, isometrics twice a week and bingo and Spot That Tune.

  I walked down to the day room, just followed my nose. Mainly they were in wheelchairs. Mainly they were asleep.

  I went around and looked at all the old ladies that were about the right size. Mom was five ten, in her prime. Then, allowing that shrinkage does occur with the passing years, I went around again. She was wearing day clothes. A caramel-colour dress. It seemed like they kept-her nice.

  She was kinda dozing, facing towards the TV, but not watching. I said, ‘Mom? It's Peggy.’

  She didn't even look at me.

  I said, ‘I'm sorry I didn't come before.’ I was sorry, too.

  She had a pocketbook she kept opening and shutting, didn't seem to have anything in it. I touched her hand and it felt like paper.

  I said, ‘I didn't know. I come in from Dallas to see you and I didn't even know. Connie should have called me. I'd have come.’

  Her face was lined so deep. Creased with all those years of frowning and complaining.

  I said, ‘Crystal sends her love. You remember Crystal? She's grown up so beautiful.’ I took a photo out of my bill-fold, but she just looked in the empty pocketbook some more.

  I said, ‘Mom? Is there anything you'd like?’ But she had closed her eyes again. I just sat for a while, feeling awkward. Watching The Flintstones Comedy Hour in a room full of the living dead.