Healing Ruby: A Novel

by Jennifer H. Westall

  At first, I wasn’t really sure about what I was doing. Some poor soul would come through the line, and he’d look like he was coming in from battle, all worn to the bone and covered in dust. Some of them seemed bitter, like they’d lost all hope. I couldn’t get even a hint of a smile out of them. But a few would come in with a smile on their face, and gratefulness in their heart. And when I handed them a plate, they’d bless me and thank me. One older man was particularly kind. As I walked around picking up dishes and straightening up, he invited me to sit and rest for a spell. He had this kind of glow about him, and I felt drawn to him, so I took him up on his offer.

  “How’s your family getting along?” he asked in between large spoonfuls of soup. A little dribbled down his beard, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “We’re doing all right, I suppose,” I said. “It’s not been easy, but God’s providing for us.” I sounded much more confident than I felt, but it was my duty to pass on hope, not my doubts. I felt grateful in that moment that God had at least given us shelter, even if it was shabby.

  He nodded his head and took another bite. “You remember that. Got to hold onto your faith in times like these. He giveth, and he taketh away. Things’ll get much worse before long. You wait and see. This is just the start of something awful. And that kind of awful makes a person forget how good God is.”

  “I know it’s not looking good for many folks,” I said. “What about you? You able to take care of yourself?”

  “Mostly.” He shrugged. “I ride the rails here and yonder, getting meals for odd jobs. Hate to come up in a place to get food when I ain’t worked for it, though.”

  “I’m sure it’s hard, but maybe God’s allowing someone to practice their generosity on you. He wants us to be merciful, so someone’s got to be on the receiving end of that mercy.”

  He stopped eating and pointed his spoon at me, narrowing his eyes. “Listen here. You watch out for yourself. God shows me things. Things I don’t always understand. You’re a good girl, with a good heart. I can see that, else you wouldn’t be here. But they’s something dark after you.”

  The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I wasn’t sure what to make of his words. Maybe he was suffering from more than just hard times. I cleared my throat and tried to excuse myself, but he grabbed my arm.

  “I’m sorry, young lady. I don’t mean to frighten you or nothing. I only say what God lays on my heart. You be careful now, you hear?”

  I nodded and pushed away from the table. I walked into the kitchen trying to settle my nerves for a second. Matthew looked up from the dishes at me and raised an eyebrow.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “I just, uh, need a little fresh air. I’ll be right back.”

  I walked into the hallway, and I thought I made the same turns I’d made coming in, but somehow I got myself lost. I wound up in the foyer of the church, right outside the sanctuary. I found a side door leading outside and went out onto the steps. I sat down and closed my eyes to pray, letting the sunshine on my face warm the cold shiver that had gone down my spine. As much as I wanted to think that old man was crazy, something told me I should listen.

  Lord, what am I doing here? I can’t figure out what you want from me. You take Daddy. Then you take our home, our way of life. And somehow, I’m supposed to stay strong in my faith, despite some dark force coming after me. How in the world am I supposed to do that? And how does this have anything to do with healing anybody?

  Maybe I was thinking on all this the wrong way. Maybe that dark force was my own doubt and questions. I looked up and down the main street of Cullman, hoping answers would come if I sat quietly and waited. If that man was right, and terrible things were ahead—worse than what we already had—then shouldn’t people be doing something different than shopping and driving around town like they’d always done. Back behind the very building where I sat were a bunch of men and women who couldn’t even feed themselves, and right here in front of me people passed by like it didn’t matter. Like they were in two separate worlds or something. It felt all wrong. And I felt so small sitting there, too small to do much of anything for anybody.

  I sat there a while, but answers didn’t come, so I pushed myself up from the steps and went back inside the foyer. I wasn’t exactly sure how to get back to the kitchen. I was about to go outside and walk around to the back, when I heard a deep voice coming from inside the sanctuary. I walked over to one of the heavy double doors that stood open, and when I looked inside, I saw Brother Cass at the pulpit preaching to an empty room, his face turned upward and his arms outspread.

  “Our great and merciful God wants to pour out every blessing on us today, but we must turn away from the life of sin that has us entangled in all manner of debauchery! Oh, how I weep for my dear brothers and sisters who are suffering. If only they would repent of the sin that has led them to this discipline from Thee.” He paused and looked down, scanning the sanctuary with pleading eyes, as if it were filled with worshipers hanging on his every word. “Many of you, to your credit, seek to help these poor souls, as do I. But let us be wise. Let us take care that our charity does not further drunkenness, nor idolatry, nor slothfulness. Let us instead keep our eyes on Christ—”

  At that point he looked right at me as I stood in the back of the church, like he felt my presence. He placed his hands on the pulpit and leaned forward. “Ruby Graves.”

  He didn’t say anything else for what seemed like a full minute. Just my name. Ruby Graves. Like it was a foul word or something. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to march up to him and confront his poor attitude toward me, or if it’d be best to hightail it out of there. Didn’t make much difference cause by the time I’d decided on hightailing, he’d done the marching.

  “So what brings you to our doorstep, Miss Graves?” The friendly tone to his voice didn’t match the contempt in his eyes.

  “Well, I uh…” I tried to stammer out something, but I couldn’t concentrate on remembering why I was there. My mind was too preoccupied on trying to figure out what I’d done to deserve such disdain from someone who barely knew me. “I was in the kitchen around back and needed some fresh air. I just got turned around when I was making my way back.”

  “The kitchen?” He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Now Ruby, don’t tell me your family is so bad off you have to come begging for soup and bread.”

  My face flushed hot, and before I could keep a lid on my mouth, I blurted out, “I am not here to beg!”

  “Oh? I guess I assumed, what with ya’ll losing the farm and everything. Such a shame.” He shook his head and frowned. “I know sharecropping can be backbreaking work for little reward. If your family needs assistance—”

  “For your information, I was helping to serve food to others,” I interrupted. “My family’s doing just fine. Besides, I wouldn’t come here to beg from you if it was the last place on earth still giving out food and I was starved near to death!”

  His eyebrows shot up, but then his expression settled into one of satisfaction. “Well, I guess I should keep that in mind in the future.”

  I let out my breath, trying to blow out all my frustrations and control my anger. “I’m sorry Brother Cass. I shouldn’t speak to you like that. My daddy wouldn’t like it one bit.” I had to swallow the awful taste those words left in my mouth.

  “Well now, Miss Ruby. Of course you are forgiven. I meant no insult to your family. I’m sure you’ve been hard at work today, and exhaustion can loosen the tongue at times it would otherwise remain quiet. As I’m sure you’ve read in the scriptures of James, ‘And the tongue is a fire, a world of iniquity: so is the tongue among our members, that it defileth the whole body, and setteth on fire the course of nature.’” Then he leaned in and lowered his voice as he finished the verse. “’And it is set on fire of hell.’”

  “Just what is it you’re trying to say?” I had to admit that stuffy old King James language turned me around sometimes, and I wasn’t ex
actly sure, but I thought maybe Brother Cass had accused me of having a defiled body and a tongue from hell that went around setting things on fire.

  He straightened and lifted his chin so he could look down on me, though it was an effort since he wasn’t but a hair taller than I was. “I merely meant that the tongue can be dangerous if not well-controlled. It can set in motion a blaze that can engulf those we love. You should be careful with your tongue. It seems to get the better of you often.”

  Though I couldn’t deny the truth in his words, I’d had enough of the good pastor for the day, maybe even for a lifetime. “Well, thank you for enlightening me. I will pray for God’s wisdom in controlling it.”

  “As will I.”

  Then I turned and walked into the foyer to find my way back to the kitchen. I glanced around at the different doors, still unsure which one to take. I figured it was best to get away as quickly as possible, so I reached for the nearest door.

  “Can I help you find something, Miss Ruby?”

  I hadn’t realized that Brother Cass had followed me. I gripped the handle on the door tight as I could for a moment before I turned around with my best smile.

  “I was looking for the way back to the kitchen.”

  “I’m curious, my dear, but how is it you came to serve in the kitchen today? It was my understanding that members of our congregation were serving the meals.”

  “Matthew brought me over to say hello to his mother and Mary. They invited me to stay.”

  It was subtle, but I could see my words deepen the frown he’d been masking underneath his pretense of friendliness. “I wasn’t aware your friendship with the Doyle family had continued past your service there.”

  “You don’t seem too pleased about it.”

  “Well, it’s not that exactly.” He gestured toward another door a few feet over from where I’d been heading. “I think that’s the one you want. This door here leads to my study.”

  He walked with me over to the door, and I was anxious to get through it before my tongue from hell got the better of me again and set something else on fire. “Thank you,” I said.

  “You’re very welcome.” He paused and smiled as I pulled on the door. “You know, Miss Ruby, the Doyle family is very respected in our county. In fact, Mr. Doyle serves as one of our deacons.”

  “That’s wonderful.”

  He tilted his head slightly at the flat tone of my voice. “Yes, it is.” He took a slip of paper from the nearby table and handed it to me. “In fact, you may find several names on our list of deacons that you’re familiar with.”

  I glanced down at the paper, seeing it was the church bulletin. I was more anxious to leave than to think too much on what Cass was talking about, so I nodded my head and once again reached for the door. “I’m sure you’re right. I’ll just be getting back to the kitchen now.”

  “Miss Ruby, I’m sure you have nothing but pure intentions, but I believe it’s best for our church outreach activities be handled by our members. I thank you for your service today, and you’re welcome to attend church here anytime you’d like.”

  I looked him in the eye one final time, chilled by the coldness I saw there. What kind of pastor turned away people who wanted to serve? “Good day, Brother Cass.”

  As I walked away from him down the hallway, I listened for the door to close behind me. It never did, and I imagined he was watching to make sure I didn’t do anything suspicious. When I turned the corner that would take me to the kitchen, I stopped and leaned against the wall. Every nerve in my body was tight as could be. I looked again at the bulletin he’d given me, curious about why he’d seemed so interested in pointing out the list of deacons. I did recognize a couple of names, prominent men in our area. The president of the bank, Mr. Doyle, and…Chester Calhoun. That was what he’d been after. That whole exchange between Calhoun and his son became clearer. And Cass wanted me to know that he had his fingers into every aspect of my life. But why? What was I to him?

  Another shiver ran down me as I heard the old man’s words again. They’s something dark after you.

  Just then, Matthew popped into the hallway shaking his head as he walked toward me. “What happened to you?”

  I gripped my hands in front of me to steady their shaking. “Got a little turned around is all. But I’m pretty sure I got things figured out now.”

  He grinned. “You ready to go?”

  “I think I’d like to stick around and help out a little more.”

  I followed him the rest of the way down the hall and back into the kitchen. The dining area was still crowded with people, and a sudden and deep compassion for them washed over me. Maybe God meant for me to be here. I felt the pull on my heart the same as I’d felt it when I was caring for Matthew. Surely, as long as I was doing God’s will, he’d protect me. Sure, we’d lost our farm, but hadn’t he provided a place to live and work?

  “You all right?” Matthew asked. He was peering at me with raised eyebrows.

  Strange thing was, I felt better than I had in a long time. I didn’t feel so lost or desperate to figure out this whole gift of healing that Asa had been talking about. I knew I had a gift, and God was going to use me somehow, even if I didn’t understand it all right now. While I was waiting on answers, I could help the people right in front of me. And it would be the perfect way to aggravate that old crabby preacher too. He could send his hatred wherever he wanted; the Lord would guide me and protect me.

  I tried not to look too mischievous when I smiled up at Matthew and asked, “You think your mother would mind if I helped out here every week?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I tried all week to think of a way to ask one of my brothers for a ride into town the next Saturday. I didn’t want to ask Henry since he’d run off and left me last time, and I hated the thought of asking James. He was exhausted all the time between working the fields during the day and at the railroad station at night just so we could have enough to scrape by. Only thing that seemed to lift his spirits in the least was when Emma Rae would come down and join us for supper. I liked it when she came cause she usually brought a little something with her to add to our pitiful meal. On Thursday night, she brought down some fried pies, and it was all I could do not to gobble them up as soon as I smelled them.

  As we neared the end of supper, I worked up the nerve to ask for that ride. I wasn’t too keen on asking with Mother right there, but I’d have to tell her where I was going anyway. So I tried to make my voice as nonchalant as possible.

  “Either of you boys heading into Cullman Saturday morning?” I scooped a bite of pie into my mouth to prove how little the answer mattered.

  “Wasn’t planning on it,” James said. “Why?”

  “No reason. Just thought I’d go along if you were.”

  James went back to stuffing his mouth, but Henry looked at me with a sly grin. “What you wanting to go into town for, Rubes? You got a secret meeting planned or something?”

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “I saw you and Matthew walking off together last Saturday.”

  Mother darted a glance at me. “Is that true?”

  I wished right at that moment I could throw Henry down a well. Or maybe even myself. Everyone at the table had stopped eating and was staring at me like I’d grown an extra arm out of my forehead.

  “I don’t have any kind of secret meeting! Mrs. Doyle invited me to help at their church is all.”

  “Help with what?” Mother asked.

  “They’re running a soup kitchen, and I want to help serve food.”

  Henry laughed. “That ain’t why you want to go, and you know it.”

  Mother hushed Henry right up with one look, and I was glad for it until she turned that look toward me. “Is that all you’re wanting? To go serve food at the soup kitchen?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, I suppose that’d be all right.” She didn’t look too sure of that, but I’d take it as permission.

  Ja
mes sat across the table from me, and he huffed as he leaned back in his chair. “How’re we gonna help feed others when we can barely feed ourselves? You need to be here working to keep your own family from starving, not fiddling around in some soup kitchen so you can make eyes at Matthew Doyle.”

  “I do not make eyes at Matthew!” I slammed my spoon onto the table and pushed my chair back.

  Emma Rae put a hand on James’ arm before he could say much else.

  “Well, it don’t matter none anyhow,” Henry said. “We ain’t got no way to make the trip.”

  Emma Rae cleared her throat and said, “I might have an idea.” She let go of James and looked back and forth between me and Mother with her big blue eyes. I could see why James was fond of her, what with the way she kept herself together so nice. “Daddy’s been talking about wanting to sell more produce at the market. He’s had a time with peppers, but finally got a decent crop in and thinks they’ll make some money.” Then she turned to Henry. “You could see if he’d let you drive his other truck to the market, or make some deliveries for him. I’m sure he’d pay you something extra for it.”

  Henry’s face brightened. “Well, maybe that would work out all right. I could use a little extra since every dime I make gets stolen from me.” His eyes met James’, and they exchanged a look that held a month’s worth of arguments in it. I was waiting on them to start in on each other again, but James glanced at Emma Rae and held his tongue.

  “So if you drive the extra truck into town, can I go along?” I asked.

  “Sure thing, Rubes.” Henry smiled at me like he knew some secret I was keeping, but I was tired of fighting so I ignored him.

  That evening after supper, I tagged along as Henry and James walked Emma Rae home. I was content to stroll around the yard while the boys talked to Mr. Calhoun inside. The sun was still about half an hour from completely setting, but already the clouds on the horizon were tinted pink on the bottom. With the breeze cooling off and the sounds of nighttime getting ready to sing, I was drawn toward the west end of the yard as it sloped down to the barn and past the cornfield.