“I don’t want to go against people.”
“That’s what you’re doing, Joe.”
“No. I know you can go so far back and no farther. As you said, there’s some things you can’t get away from.”
Joe didn’t want to tell Ike of the strong feeling urging him to do something distasteful to him. “I got to do it for Lottie,” he said to himself, and was restless, wishing it was over, eager for the peace that would follow. All day he deliberated until he boldly dallied with the idea and then made up his mind to have a talk with Hodgins. In the evening he tried to pray, but there in the room where he had knelt down with Lottie beside the bed he could mutter only, “Oh, Jesus. Oh, Jesus,” his mind excited and the thought becoming a wish, and soon he imagined he had a duty to perform for Lottie. He tried to regard the whole matter practically, but his head was feeling feverish and he imagined he saw a release from the long hours in the night and the uneasy restlessness in the morning. One way to do it. One thing Lottie would have wanted him to do.
Next evening Hodgins came down the road to sit on Harding’s veranda. Joe saw him coming and was glad. Sitting there on the veranda talking was easy because Joe did not go straight to the point but preferred to lead up to it in a round-about way.
“Well, what’s the good word tonight, Mr. Harding?” Hodgins said.
“Nothing much. Things go pretty easy.”
“Same here.”
“How is the flock doing?”
“Oh, pretty well established now,” Hodgins said blandly.
“Everybody satisfied, too.”
“Just a few not.”
“Looks like rain,” Joe said thoughtfully.
“It rained this day last week,” Hodgins said.
“It rained pitchforks and sawlogs for handles,” Joe said.
“Anything worthwhile in the paper tonight, Mr. Harding?”
“Nothing much. Nothing worth reading.”
Joe looked at Hodgins out of the corner of his eye, wondering how to go about it.
“How’s that baptism of yours coming along?” Joe said.
“Oh, first rate. It’s going to be the finest thing that’s happened here in years. Dr. Morrow is coming down from the city to preach and help with the baptism. A big thing, Mr. Harding, a big thing. I must say I’m pleased. We had a rough time for a while but now I’m very pleased.”
“You done well, all right.”
“We might have done better,” Hodgins said, smiling at Joe.
Joe laughed and said, “Do you think I’d be a good candidate for the dipping?”
“I do. I really do. You’re of a serious turn of mind.”
“Then I may fool you.”
“You won’t fool us. We’ll be glad to have you.”
“I sometimes think there’s something in it,” Joe said uneasily, tentatively.
“It’s food and drink to me,” Hodgins said seriously.
It was dark and Hodgins should have gone down the road, but he rocked back and forth on the veranda. There was a moment of silence. Joe, fumbling in his pocket for his pipe, was unhappy. He was getting excited, the silence disturbed him, but he didn’t know what to say.
“Do you hear those darn bullfrogs?” he finally said.
“Yes, up the river a little.”
“Such a croaking.”
“Get on your nerves in the dark if you were alone up there.”
“You get used to it.”
Joe began to talk again about the barn and the baptism, then unexpectedly told Hodgins he had been thinking of being baptized. Hodgins stopped rocking, drawing his chair up closer to Joe, and began to talk so eagerly he twisted his words. He remembered the old argument about original sin and plunged into it, but Joe waved his hand impatiently, trying to make him understand original sin had nothing to do with it. “It’s something I want to do. It’s something I got to do,” he said, trying childishly to make Hodgins understand the thoughts in his head. “It will be all right with me when I do that,” he said. He did not want to mention Lottie or Ellen but thought Hodgins should understand how much he had been thinking of them.
Hodgins was very much moved. Again he rocked back and forth, hardly knowing what to say, glad of the darkness. “Let’s think it all over,” he said.
“I’ve thought it over,” Joe said.
“Well, I’ll think about it and we’ll talk it over,” he said, getting up.
Joe stood up and there was a long, uncomfortable pause.
“That looks like a star out over there,” Joe said.
One star was shining through a rift in the clouds.
“Then it won’t rain, I guess.”
“No, I guess not. Good night.”
12
Joe told Dan Higgins he was going to be baptized and Dan laughed so hard Joe left the hotel in disgust. Dan followed him out on the veranda to apologize, and Joe tried to make him understand why he had decided to do such a thing. Dan listened doubtfully, not quite knowing whether to take Joe seriously, but said finally, “I guess we can still be friends, Joe.”
“Sure, Dan, it’s different with me. It’s something I just got to do. I mean I’ll feel better when I do it,” Joe said, slightly embarrassed.
“Ike’s going to be baptized, too.”
“Well, Ike’s all right, ain’t he? You couldn’t want a better man than Ike,” Joe said eagerly.
“Ike’s good company all right, but you’re different, Joe. It goes against your grain.”
“It does and it don’t. It’s a thing I want to do now.”
“It won’t help your dead wife to do it,” Dan said pointedly.
“I don’t know. I’d like to do something.”
Dan suggested Joe do nothing for a few months till the natural sorrow had passed away, but Joe shook his head stubbornly and said he knew what he wanted. Dan was sorry for Joe, so sorry he put one arm around his shoulder and asked him to stay at the hotel for the night. “That house must be lonesome,” he said. “It must get on a man’s nerves.” Joe was angry and left. Dan would not take him seriously.
The people who heard Joe Harding was going to be baptized nodded their heads appreciatively. It was only proper, they said: it was the best way to honor the memory of his dead wife and niece, and they recalled he had never been a scoffer like Jerry Hammond and always had had a good deal of the Christian spirit. The neighbors agreed a man had to be brought face to face with death to see the value of submitting to the dictates of his conscience, and these same people called on Joe, shook hands with him, and praised his depth of vision. He did not like it and didn’t want to talk to them.
Every night for a week before the baptism Hodgins talked to Joe on the veranda, trying in no way to hide his enthusiasm for Joe’s conversion. He said frankly he would get more joy from Joe’s baptism than from the baptism of twenty-four good souls whose faith had made possible the evangelical work in the village. Joe avoided talking very much about it. It was something that simply had to be done to make him feel good, that was all there was to it.
The days before Sunday went slowly but Joe was happier, having made up his mind to be definite. Twice he went to service in the barn, and though he did not listen very attentively, he had the pleasure that comes from the earnest performance of a duty, and singing the hymns and praying, he thought of the night Lottie had gone up on the platform. There he was in the barn doing what Lottie had done, trying to think her thoughts. After the service he went over to Kremer’s house. Mr. and Mrs. Kremer had decided to be baptized together and she was very proud of it. That night in Kremer’s parlor they agreed that Hodgins was a fine young man, a real credit to the community, if induced to be the first pastor of a new Baptist church.
It rained all Sunday morning but cleared up at noontime. Joe was up early and the time passed slowly. Now the day of the baptism had come he was restless, wishing it was time to go down to the lake, and he was at moments inert, indifferent, but for the most part conscious of doing the right thing.
&nbs
p; In the afternoon at twenty minutes to three he walked over to Kremer’s place. He had on an old pair of pants and a khaki shirt and did not wear a hat. Under his arm he carried a change of clothing. Hodgins had advised all who were to be baptized to wear old clothes.
They went down the road together, hardly talking, for Joe was thoughtful and Mrs. Kremer was getting nervous. Over and over Ike assured her everything would come out all right. Not in years had so many automobiles come down the old road, and many were crossing the high-level bridge to park near the roadhouse or on the grass alongside the valley road. People from the cars walked down to the river. Joe and the Kremers went down the path by the bridge. The cement bridge over the river had three inches of water on it. It was in the hollow and small streams flowed down the road to the bridge.
“I guess Mr. Hodgins was right,” Ike said.
“What do you mean?” Joe asked.
“He said an awful lot of people would come from all over to see it.”
They walked along the river. The path was wet and slippery.
On the beach near the river mouth many people were assembled. More were coming down the path to see the baptism in the lake. Here and there in the crowd was a man or woman in old clothes and bared head, waiting to be baptized. The people who had come from the city to see the baptism were perched in favorable spots on the sparsely wooded hill sloping back from the shoreline and the river. The sun was shining but the grass on the hill was still wet.
By the time Hodgins and Mr. Harvey Simpson and his wife came down the path, fully five hundred people were assembled on the beach and the slope of the hill. Hodgins was wearing a long black robe, hanging loosely on his tall frame. He carried rubber boots under his arm. Walking with him was a tall white-haired man with a high, round, shiny forehead and a strong aquiline nose, wearing a similar black robe and carrying rubber boots. Mrs. Kremer told Joe he was Rev. Dr. Morrow from the city.
The twenty-four penitents in old clothes surged toward Hodgins, but were embarrassed by the presence of the stranger from the city, whom Hodgins treated so respectfully. Joe was aware of people staring at him, by his old clothes one of the penitents.
Hodgins and Dr. Morrow strode over to the rude pulpit of rough boards erected back from the waterline, close to the slope of the hill. After a short consultation with Hodgins, Dr. Morrow climbed up to the pulpit and raised his arm on high, praying in a loud resonant voice. The crowd on the beach listened with bowed heads and the men and women on the hills were silent. Joe could hear only the passionate prayer of the minister and the steady lapping of the water on the beach. The sun went behind thick clouds gathering in the sky.
After praying, a hymn was sung, many people on the hill singing with those on the beach. Then Dr. Morrow, in a short address praising Hodgins’ zeal, thanked God for giving a strong Christian spirit to Eastmount. He descended from the pulpit and Hodgins helped him put on the waist-high rubber boots. And then Harvey Simpson helped Hodgins with his rubber boots.
Hodgins called upon all who were to be baptized to gather around him. Joe and Ike and Mrs. Kremer edged close and soon he was hemmed in by the band of twenty-four in old clothes, bundles of clothing under their arms. Hodgins quietly explained that Mr. Herbert MacIntosh had kindly consented to let them change their clothing, after the submerging, in his cottage, a short way along the beach.
A small procession formed and the solemn little band, woebegone in their old clothes and uncovered heads, followed Hodgins and Dr. Morrow down to the edge of the water. Joe was walking opposite Rose MacIntyre, who was so nervous she could hardly keep from crying. The procession, close to the water, was hemmed in by the crowd.
Hodgins and Dr. Morrow, taking big awkward steps in the clumsy rubber boots, strode out in the water until it was waist high.
Hodgins, raising his hand, took a few steps toward the shore, beckoning Mr. and Mrs. Harvey Simpson to come toward him. Mrs. Simpson had on a long black robe similar to Hodgins’, but Harvey wore a good Sunday suit for the solemn occasion. They walked slowly, hands linked, until a few paces from Hodgins. Dr. Morrow, bowing and smiling encouragingly, reached out his hand to take hold of Mrs. Simpson, whose face was ashen pale. He put his left arm across her back and took her right hand in his.
He said in a loud voice that all on the beach might hear, “My dear Sister Simpson, do you believe in the Lord Jesus, the Savior, who died for you and rose again?”
She nodded her head, “I do.”
“Then in the name of Christ and at His command I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost,” he said, lowering her gently till she was submerged completely.
Harvey Simpson stood by while his wife was lifted up, the water streaming from her head. Hodgins helped Mrs. Simpson to the shore and she was taken along the beach to Herb MacIntosh’s shack.
Joe stood on the shore, watching intently the dipping of Simpson, who stuck his head out of the water, coughing and sneezing.
Then Mr. and Mrs. Kremer walked out in the water and Joe was left standing apart from the others on the beach, his heart beating. He felt as if he had been working hard, exhausting himself, but getting somewhere.
Six married couples were baptized in the lake. A young boy went with his father and mother out in the water. Dr. Morrow saw the boy coming and raising his hands high over his head cried, “What a great joy it is to see young people in general but boys and girls in particular saved by grace. Maybe the Lord will make of this boy a preacher to carry His word into far-off countries.” And the trembling boy was dipped and carried to the shore by his father.
A few girls in black robes and colored bathing caps were baptized.
Then Joe walked in the water that soaked through his boots and crept up coldly around his loins, chilling him until his teeth chattered. Hodgins clasped his hand, squeezing it, and Joe didn’t want to look back at the people on the beach. The preacher from the city was talking but the words droned in Joe’s ears, for he was chilled and trembling. The water was icy, his legs were numb, but the upper part of his body tingled with a strange exhilaration. Then his thoughts got twisted, and, staring at the waterline on the minister’s black robe, he was eager for humiliation. An arm was around his neck and he was looking at the broad pink cheekbones of the minister, then his head sank beneath the surface and he came up spluttering, the water streaming from his nearly bald head along matted strands of hair down to his forehead and into his eyes. He rubbed his eyes. He had done it. It was over. Something inside him was hurt but he had been eager to suffer and now felt the joy of release from a fixed purpose.
Joe waded quickly to the beach and all the people on the hill watched him, wet and bedraggled, hurrying along to Herb MacIntosh’s shack. Herb was sitting in front of the shack smoking his pipe. Herb nodded to Joe and said Mr. and Mrs. Kremer hadn’t changed yet so he would have to wait. Joe, shivering, looked back but could see only the fringe of the crowd curiously interested in the behavior of all who were submerged in the lake. The ceremony would soon be over.
Ike came out of the shack and Mrs. Kremer followed him. She was blue around the lips but Ike was in good humor.
“They should have a man in there with a towel to give a fellow a rub-down,” he said to Joe.
Mrs. Kremer, still shivering, said, “You better change at once, Mr. Harding. You’ll get your death of cold standing there like that.”
In the old shack, Joe changed his clothes rapidly, eager to get outside. He hurried back to the crowd around the pulpit.
After the ceremony in the water, Hodgins and Dr. Morrow took off their rubber boots. Hodgins ascended the rough pulpit. The small congregation was gathered around him but Hodgins spoke to the big crowd on the hill and along the beach. The presence of so many people stirred his imagination and he talked with fiery eloquence. Joe was glad he was one of the band who had been baptized.
Hodgins came down from the pulpit and it was Dr. Morrow’s turn to say a few appropriate words, assuring the congreg
ation Hodgins would surely be the first pastor of a new Baptist church in the village if they all joined in a call.
And then everybody sang, “Yes, we shall gather at the river, the beautiful, the beautiful river. ” Dr. Morrow began to pray with turbulent eloquence. Many people on the hill knew the ceremony would soon be over and turned to go home.
It was nearly five o’clock. The surface of the lake was unbroken and the sun, now shining brilliantly, polished the smooth water. Away along the beach to the west, the gray bluffs towered up clearly. Men and women came down the hill to walk up the valley to the road. Dan Higgins, smoking a cigar, came over to Joe, who was looking around for Ike.
“How’d it go, Joe?” he said, hilarious about something.
“All right. I’m satisfied.”
“Me, too.”
“Why?”
“See that young fellow over there talking?”
“Yeah.”
“He’s a reporter from the city.”
“Well?”
“He asked me if I got baptized and I told him yes. I said it was the happiest day of my life and he took it all down.”
“I don’t know as that was quite right,” Joe said slowly.
“Shucks, Joe, you’re all right. Let’s go up the path together,” Dan said and, laughing, took Joe’s arm.
They walked rapidly up the river because Dan wanted to be at the hotel when the crowd passed along the road. The beer and ale sign could be seen from the valley and the road.
In the hotel Joe talked idly with a few customers while Dan served drinks and sandwiches to a great many people.
At six o’clock they were alone in the barroom. Joe knew Hodgins had gone into the city and would not return to the village for a few days, and, having nowhere to go, he ate a sandwich and drank a bottle of beer. He was in good humor. Dan was in good humor too, because business had not been so good in a long time. He talked gaily about the baptism and wasn’t a bit concerned about offending Joe, who listened good-naturedly, saying occasionally, “You’re right and you’re wrong, Dan.”
And Dan said finally, “You don’t think things are really going to be any different from now on, do you?”
The Complete Stories of Morley Callaghan: Volume One Page 26