by Dara Girard
"Yes, I know, most of the papers are narratives describing different artists and their work. But I remember the report you submitted comparing the skillful use of light and dark between impressionist and modern day techniques in portraits. Samuel was blown-away by your submission. It was one of the best he had ever seen.
"I agreed with your argument and your samples."
Janet nodded remembering the project. She'd created several small portraits, some mimicking the style of the old masters, and others incorporating the controversial styles of several modern day artists.
"It was a brilliant," Charlotte continued. "I don't usually use undergrads, but I've heard good things about your work and could use someone like you. What are you doing this summer?"
"I don't have anything planned," Janet replied, cautious.
"How would you like an internship? I have an interior design business and could use an assistant. I also have an artist who could show you how to do faux painting and a lot more if that's something you'd be interested in."
A job to paint and make money? "I'd love it."
"Here's my card. Call me after you've completed your last class and we'll get together."
Janet stared at the card as if it were gold. "Thank you so much."
"No, thank you. I've been fixing up other people's homes for so long I'd forgotten to get rid of my own trash." Charlotte put on her sunglasses then strutted down the hall, drawing the attention of everyone she passed.
Janet pumped the air with her fist then put the card away. She'd defeated Professor Blakemore now it was time for Mother Shea.
Chapter 19
Mother Shea hated nightfall. It wasn't the silence, it wasn't the loneliness, it was the emptiness. In her house there was no one to admire her, to seek her advice or listen to her dreams and no one to care that sometimes she feared growing old. Hamsford and the church people meant everything to her and she wondered if she served them well. They were all that she had and they made her feel important. She'd grown up poor and unremarkable until the day she had that one dream that changed her life.
At times she feared that she'd have another dream that would do the same thing. And Mother Shea feared change more than anything. She sat in her living room with a cup of tea ready to settle into the night and soak her swollen feet when someone knocked on her door.
Mother Shea glanced at the clock, her heart beginning to pound. Nobody could be coming to her house at this hour with good news. She put on her slippers and tied the sash of her robe then went to the door. "Who is it?" she asked trying to see through the peephole.
"Janet Barnett."
She swung the door open surprised. "It's late for you to be here."
"I know but I desperately need your help."
Mother Shea opened the door wider. "Come in."
Janet entered trying her best not to stare. Few people were allowed into Mother Shea's home. She had a special back entrance that lead to a social room where she talked to visitors. Janet didn't want anyone seeing her there, so she had chosen nighttime to sneak out, and had decided to go to the front door. She'd stood outside praying for God's forgiveness and blessing, knowing what she was about to do was deceptive but hoping He'd understand. The moment she saw the interior of Mother Shea's house she saw that being a Seer paid considerably better than she'd imagined.
While Mother Shea didn't possess many furnishings, the few she had were finely crafted pieces. A number of framed quotes, professing God's love, lined the walls. She led Janet into her small sitting room, where on a large marble center table, lay an enormous family bible.
"Take a seat," Mother Shea said. "And tell me what's troubling you. I must say, I'm surprised your parents let you stay out so late."
Janet sat on a plush couch determined not to be distracted from her mission. "No. They don't know I snuck out tonight. But I had to see you. I had this terrible dream last night that disturbed me."
Mother Shea leaned forward. "Yes?"
"I need you to interpret it for me."
"Of course. You came to the right place. But why not wait until morning?"
"Because I have been having this dream every night for the past five days. The same dream and I am afraid to go to sleep tonight. The dream really scares me and I can't sleep until I understand it."
Mother Shea sat back ready to listen. "Very well tell me about it."
Janet wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and did, remembering every detail of the dream she and Valerie had rehearsed. Mother Shea's expression didn't change. When Janet was finished she swallowed and said, "That's it."
"You've had a dream that your dead Grandma Lucy ripped a wedding veil off of Beverly's head?"
"Yes."
"And you've had this dream five times?"
"Yes."
Mother Shea folded her arms. "Why did you come here to lie to me?"
Sheer fear swept through her. "What?"
Mother Shea's crafty eyes studied her. "That dream was pure fabrication. Do you want to know how I know?" She didn't wait for a reply. "Because you're not the type of woman who dreams at night. You dream in the day. You dream of leaving your parents' home and being on your own. You dream dangerous dreams."
Janet licked her lips.
"I'm not going to ask why you don't want your sister to marry Brother Jerome because I don't care. But I will tell you this." She leaned forward and Janet looked into the face of a woman who wasn't only cunning, but clever. "Start to dream at night and let those other dreams die or you are headed down an ungodly path. You will bring more shame to your family than you ever knew possible." She sat back. "Now let me tell you about a dream I've had. If your family deviates from the wishes of the Lord your family will suffer. I see your house in mourning and shame. Your sister must marry Brother Jerome. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mother Shea."
She held out her hand. "So this conversation never happened."
Janet opened her wallet and handed her ten dollars.
Her hand didn't move. "How your mother would weep if she knew you'd been here."
Janet gave her another ten.
"And your father too."
Janet sighed and gave her last ten. "That's all I have."
Mother Shea stood and folded the bills. She opened the door and Janet walked past. "Drive safe." Her mouth spread into a thin lipped smile. "And sleep well."
* * *
She'd failed. Janet sat in her car and rested her head on the steering wheel. Her sister would marry Brother Jerome and there was nothing she could do. She steeled herself from tears and drove home. She didn't park her car all the way up the drive. Although her family could sleep through a tornado, she didn't want to risk waking them. She crept to the front door then halted when she heard movement close by. It sounded like a large animal. Janet picked up a rock and threw it into the bushes.
"Ow!"
Janet jumped back. "Who's there?"
"It's only me," Francine said, emerging from her hiding place.
"What are you doing?"
"Conducting an experiment."
"An experiment?"
Francine pulled out a leaf caught in the zipper of her jacket. "Yes. I wanted to see how easy it was to sneak out of a house and get back in. I was able to sneak out, but getting back in has proved difficult." She pointed to her bedroom window. "The vines aren't strong enough to hold me and we don't have a nearby tree or something else to climb."
"But why would you want to?"
"A girl at my school was bragging about how she sneaks out to meet her boyfriend and in three books I've read the heroine has done the same. I wanted to prove that it was possible." She sighed. "Unfortunately, I've come to the conclusion that the house must have a certain structure to allow for those types of nighttime activities." She narrowed her eyes. "Then again, you're trying to sneak back inside without detection. How do you plan to do that?"
Janet held up her keys. "Through the front door."
Francine pushed u
p her glasses and nodded. "Oh yes... I'd never thought of that."
Janet shook her head. "Come on."
"What are you doing out this late anyway?" Francine asked as Janet opened the front door.
"I had an errand." She turned the knob then turned to Francine with a finger to her lips. Francine nodded in understanding.
They crept inside then Janet gently shut the door behind her and bolted it. Francine took off her shoes, accidentally letting one drop and hit the floor with a thud. They stiffened waiting to hear movement from upstairs, but the house remained silent. Janet removed her shoes then waited a few moments to let her eyes adjust to the darkness before heading to the stairs.
Francine followed close behind her and whispered, "This is a lot more sensible than climbing the side of the house."
"Shh."
They'd reached halfway up the stairs when the hall lights came on. They stopped like startled night creatures caught on a roadway.
"Come here," Mr. Barnett said from the bottom of the stairs. He disappeared into the living room.
Francine turned and plodded down the stairs. "A serious miscalculation."
Moments later they sat in front of their father patiently waiting for his anger, but his tone was surprisingly calm.
"What were you two doing out at this time of night?"
Francine spoke up before Janet could. "It's all because of my experiment. Janet was helping me." She explained her theory in long detail until her father's eyes began to glaze over then finished with, "And I've discovered that it doesn't work unless the house is structurally conducive to that manner of escape and re-entry."
"I heard a car."
"Again my fault. I wanted to try different strategies and we drove around the neighborhood looking at different house structures."
Mr. Barnett turned to Janet. "Is this true?"
She hesitated and Francine continued. "I'll let you read my report once it's done."
Janet looked at her sister astonished that she was willing to cover for her. Her plain features gave nothing away. Although she'd seen that face all her life she felt as though she was staring at a stranger. How well did she know her? Who was she really?
Mr. Barnett stood. "No, I don't need to read your report, but next time use your imagination. I expect better sense from you Janet."
Janet nodded. "Yes, Daddy."
"Now get to bed." He turned and left.
Janet looked at her sister and mouthed "Thank you."
Francine squeezed her hand and for a moment their eyes meet with a depth of understanding neither could voice. For an instant Janet wanted to share all her troubles, but knew that Francine couldn't help her. She watched her sister enter her bedroom and sighed feeling alone.
* * *
Brother Peter Jerome knew he had God's favor. He'd been blessed with a good family, good friends, good fortune and now he was set to marry a good woman. He'd come far from his father's scorn. In the church he'd learned that he was important. Therefore he did his best to hold on to God's favor by doing all that was right. But his thoughts were wrong. He kept thinking about Janet's words and started having doubts about Beverly. She was right. He did need someone educated and who would complement him. He needed advice because his doubts weren't the only thing wrong with his thoughts.
"I need to speak to you," he said to Mother Shea after bible study the following Tuesday night.
"I'm busy. Perhaps another day we—"
"No, I must talk to you now. I have troubles."
This piqued Mother Shea's interest. Brother Jerome rarely admitted to having trouble. "What is it?"
He pulled her to the side and looked around to make sure no one could overhear them. "I can't marry Sister Beverly."
"Of course you can. It's all settled." Mother Shea patted his arm. "You're just nervous, you'll get over it."
"It's not that. I've searched my soul and prayed but I think it would be wrong."
"What are you on about?" Mother Shea adjusted the pin in her hat and pursed her lips.
"I'm having carnal thoughts of another woman."
Mother Shea quickly looked around the church as if lighting were about to strike him dead then dragged him outside. "Say that again?"
"You heard me. I'm having carnal thoughts about a woman who isn't my intended."
"At work?"
"No, here in the church."
Mother Shea hesitated. "How carnal are your thoughts?"
"Very carnal," he said in an anxious whisper. "I think about doing things to her lips and her body in a way that no decent man should."
Mother Shea widened her eyes. "Good Lord!"
"These thoughts assault me the most at night... when I'm in bed."
"Oh Jesus!"
"And when I see her all reason leaves me and I want to be with her and—"
"Enough!" Mother Shea said waving his confession away. "Dear God, you can't be sinning in your heart this way and still marry."
"I know," he said miserable. "But I think the woman returns my uh... affection."
Mother Shea stumbled over to a bench near the church entrance. "You think she's... enticed you on purpose?"
"She's not a jezebel. She's a good woman. Sister Beverly deserves better and I think I can make things right with the Barnetts."
"Then what do you want me to do?"
"Pray for me."
"I will." Mother Shea went home and that night she dreamed.
* * *
Errol set the phone down with a thud. "Sigonya, come quick!"
"What?"
"Come here."
His sister appeared in the living room where Errol stood motionless. "What you wan? Lawd man. Mi can never get mi work done when you call mi all di time."
He put down the phone. "The wedding done. Him not getting married."
"Who?"
"Peter Jerome."
She fell into a chair. "No wedding?"
Errol shook his head.
Sigonya threw up her hands in disgust. "What am I supposed to do wid the outfit and matching shoes mi buy?"
"And the non-refundable tickets?"
She glanced over at the older woman who sat staring out the window as she did most days. "And Auntie was looking forward to this trip." She folded her arms. "I knew he was an odd bwoy. Didn't I tell you? No woman will hav him."
Chapter 20
The hot breath of summer made an early appearance in spring then wiped its memory away with sweltering heat and long days. The Barnetts experienced a similar change, Francine graduated from high school, Maxine and Trudy's pierced ears began to close, Janet got her A and Beverly didn't marry Brother Jerome. Everything seemed to settle back to normal at the Barnett house.
But things were anything but normal in Hamsford. Gossip about Brother Jerome's change of heart and Mother's Shea's vision that God wanted Beverly for someone else continued to spread with unrelenting speed. However, Mother Shea was worried. She knew something wasn't right. Brother Jerome was an honorable man. She was glad he had told her of his problem, but she wanted to know who had tempted him away from Beverly. In her latest dream she had seen Beverly with another man, but she still felt her first vision was the right one.
Mother Shea sat in church and watched the second eldest Barnett daughter with special interest. She was sly. She looked pious, but Mother Shea knew the truth. She barely listened to the tearful admission of backsliding and slipping into worldly habits, by a young woman who told the congregation she'd twice submitted to the temptation of fornication and drunkenness.
She felt that something wasn't quite right. Her gaze fell on the two younger sisters as they stared at something in their laps instead of Pastor Wainwright. She frowned. Brother Barnett would be wise to watch those two. A solid marriage would have been a perfect solution and she'd had hope for the family, but now she sensed something bad was going to happen in the future. Something big would change. Yes, the hand of change loomed large around them and she didn't know how to stop it.
* * *
"I wish you'd tell me exactly how you did it," Beverly said as she, Janet and Valerie planted flowers in the garden. They knelt beside each other preparing the ground for the new plants Mrs. Barnett had purchased. "I still can't believe I'm no longer engaged."
Janet scooped up some dirt with a hand shovel. "I didn't do anything. I tried but it didn't work. It's a miracle. Now you can marry Jeffrey."
"Who says I'll marry him?"
"It would be a perfect choice. I wouldn't mind staying in that grand house of his."
Valerie shook her head. "Be careful, Janet. You're talking about things that haven't come true yet."
"But they will. You'll see." She winked at her sister. "Mrs. Beverly Farmer."
Beverly glanced around nervous. "Shh, someone might hear you."
Janet removed a plant from its pot. "It's a pity his name is Farmer. I would have wanted a more distinguished name for you."
Valerie shook her head. "Remember the words of Solomon, Do not boast about tomorrow for you do not know what a day may bring forth."
Janet placed the plant in the ground and covered its roots. "Yes, that's true, but all the signs are there that this is going to be a wonderful summer. Next month I start my internship with Mrs. Blakemore." Janet grabbed another pot. "Beverly's been invited over to the Farmers house four times already."
"As Tanya's guest," Beverly quickly added.
"Doesn't matter."
"And Brother Jerome has no hard feelings," Beverly said. "Actually he almost seems relieved and he's invited the family over for dinner twice. He has a lovely home."
Janet lifted her shovel. "It's too cluttered." She pointed to another pot.
Valerie picked it up then stopped before handing it to her. "You should listen to your sister's caution. The sky may look bright, but clouds can still gather on the sunniest of days."
"I'm not worried." Janet took the pot and set it down beside her. "But there is one thing I find strange."
"What?"
"Our parents don't seem upset. I thought it would take Dee-dee at least two months to get over her disappointment, but she didn't respond."