Pray for Us Sinners

by Marilyn L. R. Hall

  Walter didn’t know what to do. Perhaps he had presumed too much bringing her into Jack Nash’s house without some sort of preliminary discussion. He’d been a long time away from the bitter and unforgiving feuds of some of the people back home. Maybe he should have handled this differently.

  He studied Rose’s face seeking her thoughts but she revealed nothing. Then again he turned his eyes to Jack. He was so young and so sure of himself. His dark head was tilted back, showing a strong chin and a wide angular jaw, high well-defined cheekbones and an almost hawkish nose. Those striking blue eyes were certainly extraordinary, looking out from behind heavily lashed lids. His hair, dark and straight and cut a little longer than was the current style, gave him a rugged unkempt look, but Walter imagined that was part of his charm for the ladies. His smile was disarming and wide, showing all his teeth. Walter thought Jack Nash looked a lot like an untamed and high-spirited stallion, straining against the reins of civilized humanity, who was apt to rear up on his hind legs and stomp a fellow at the first opportunity.

  Sensing his contemplation, Jack slid his eyes to meet Walter’s and with a quizzical expression asked, “Did you say something, Walter?”

  But Walter shook his head, still puzzling about what his duty was to Claire in that uncomfortable situation. Finally, he took a deep breath and came right out with the question. “Jack, I can see now I made a serious blunder barging into your home like…”

  Jack was shaking his head and he raised his hand to signal silence. “Hey, Walter,” he said, and his smile was sincere. “You’re welcome in this house anytime. As a matter of fact, I feel real honored that you think enough of me to care to come at all.” He looked over at Rose who was just setting some cups and saucers and pie plates on the table and started laughing. “I know some of the things I’m supposed to have done make me unsuitable company for righteous society, and most of them walk across the street to avoid my shadow.” Then the grin waned and he gave Walter a serious nod. “but I’m not so ill-bred that I’m ungrateful for the kindnesses you showed me and Rose Sharon in our hour of need.”

  Walter’s eyes moved uneasily from one to the other of them and his smile looked embarrassed. “Please Jack, don’t mention it! Really! What I did was no more than anybody would have done for family. There’s no need to be grateful…”

  Jack stuck out his chin and snorted. “But I believe there is need. To my way of thinking ingratitude is an ugly trait. But the point I’m getting at, Walter, is that while I’m indebted to you and couldn’t like you more if you were my own blood brother…” he paused and shook his head while his eyes iced over. “I can’t even look at that wife of yours without wantin’ to puke.”

  Rose was as stunned as anybody else in the room, and she almost slid to the floor in a faint—the table being right there to hang onto was her salvation. She heard herself say his name but she had no idea what she intended to follow up with had he answered her.

  As it was, she and Walter and Claire Louise just stopped breathing and stared at him, and he looked from one to the other of them with blue ice chunks where his eyes ought to have been. And it was plain he didn’t care squash blossoms what any of them thought about him or his sentiments.

  “You understand, Walter, I’ve had nothing but grief from Rose Sharon’s family. That crazy old man of hers like to beat the shit outta me with a horsewhip one time. And then I had to practically kidnap the girl to make her my bride while that old man stuck his head out the screen door squealing like a stuck pig and pointed a shotgun at my back—. And then one day Rosy wanted to see her Mama again so she walked over there to that house by herself one afternoon and the damn sonofabitch grabbed this little girl and beat her with his fists until she was bloody and unconscious and would’ve killed her if Olly hadn’t got him off her. And I never lifted a finger after any of this shit to get back at him. And the only reason I didn’t was because I love Rosy so much and that was what she wanted. I ‘turned the other cheek’ like she wanted me to do….”

  Then he turned his head to look at her and his blue eyes heated up a little while the tip of his tongue licked at the corner of his lips. Momentarily, he was facing Walter again. “But when that wife of yours opened her front door and without so much as a ‘Hello, how are you?’ cursed me and her own little sister to hell’s damnation and sent us and our suitcases to sleep in the gutter ‘for all she cared!’ that was, so to speak, the old straw that broke the camel’s back.” He tilted the chair he was sitting in until it was standing on only one leg and then he spun around in it to face Claire Louise, who was still standing where she had stood when he first stepped into the room.

  The shock of having his attention on her so suddenly gave Claire no time to turn away or even to avert her eyes, which got caught on his, and once riveted by that intense blue stare, could do nothing but stare back at him. Which she knew instantly was a huge mistake. The man was a devil exactly as she had always suspected and now quite naively she had put herself in a place where he held all the power. But even as she thought that, she had to acknowledge, at least to herself, that his beauty was striking and his audacity disarming. That was the moment she decided it was no wonder someone as young and innocent as Rose Sharon had been snared in his trap.

  Claire Louise believed herself wise in the matters of the flesh and the devil, even though she had no experience with either, except in Biblical terms, which didn’t have all that much to do with the real world. She believed every bit of gossip she’d ever heard concerning Jack Nash, and knew he was a lost soul, but she had regretted her un-Christian treatment of him and Rose Sharon simply because it was un-Christian and she felt shame and humiliation knowing Walter had seen her betray all her own preaching on the subject of loving as God loves. That was why she had agreed to apologize. But now she was regretting the apology.

  Rose could see what Jack was doing, but she doubted Claire Louise had ever had a man look at her like that, so she wouldn’t have the slightest notion what was going on. Rose glanced at Walter who was looking at his wife and probably wondering why she was staring at Jack like she was. Rose was so sensitive to Jack’s sensuality she could feel the heat even when it wasn’t directed at her. But neither of the others in the room had a clue to his spitefulness. He was out to humiliate Sister Claire, by muddling her thoughts and bringing her to a realization that she was just as capable of the sin of lust as he was. Rose was certain he didn’t know Claire Louise Bradley, though. She was just like Papa as far as sin went. She knew what it was and she knew how to fight it, and even a man with Jack’s charm wouldn’t tempt her. That was what Rose thought.

  But Jack saw confusion and wonder at the strange feelings she was experiencing and he got up from the chair and in a couple of his long, rolling strides stood right there in front of her and his whole demeanor was that of a tomcat on the prowl. Nobody except Claire Louise could see his face anymore and she didn’t recognize it for what it was … but she reacted unconsciously. And Rose, watching her from across the room, thought she just might throw herself into his arms and demand satisfaction.

  By then Jack had started to chuckle and he stepped around her, allowing his body to brush hers, as he swaggered to the bedroom door where he turned to grin at her. “You see, Sister Claire? You’re not on that straight and narrow road after all. You’re still down here in the shit with all the rest of us sinners!”

  Then, he lifted his arms and locked his hands above his head and after an obviously feigned yawn he turned his back on them and announced over his shoulder that he was going to bed. “As soon as you get rid of Sister Claire you can come to me, Rosy. I do believe I’ve worked myself up to something.” And then he was laughing. Just before he got out of her sight, he turned back one more time and spoke to Claire Louise. “Oh! just so you understand me, Sister Claire, so there’s no doubt as to my meaning, I’m gonna say this slow and easy one time and then I’m gonna start getting mean. I don’t ever want to see your sorry-looking ass in my house again!”
He clicked his tongue two times and then he was gone.

  He returned a moment later, however to see Claire still staring after him with her face flaming red. He wasn’t sure if it was shame, embarrassment or fury that colored it. But he smiled at Walter that time, and his manner was sincere and charming. “Walter, you’re still welcome here if you care to come.” And then he disappeared a final time, and Rose was left to pick up the pieces of the evening—which seemed like an impossible task.

  Claire Louise was weeping again, and Walter had risen from his chair at the table. The coffee was bubbling against the lid of the pot, playing its cozy little kitchen ditty, and Rose stared at it, utterly discombobulated. She felt Walter’s arm brush hers as he moved toward his wife, and she reached out and took hold of his sleeve.

  “Walter, don’t you want a cup of coffee? It’s all perked now.” She nodded her chin at the cobbler in its pan in the middle of the table, and added weakly, “And a piece of pie?”

  In spite of his distress, Walter grinned. “Rose, I really don’t think this is the time for a cup of coffee. I think Claire and I better tuck our tails between our legs and run for home.” He patted her hand still clinging to his shirt. “Don’t feel bad, Rose. Jack’s been abused—and badly, by the whole Saylor clan. He needs time to heal and forget.”

  Rose laid her other hand on top of his and her eyes searched his. “But you’ve been so good to us, Walter. I just cain’t bear to see you get hurt.”

  He hugged her against his chest while Claire stayed in the center of the room staring at them through dripping red eyes. “I’m not hurt, Rose Sharon. On the contrary, I’m very sympathetic to Jack. I’ve had my own problems with Art Saylor.”

  He released her then and walked Claire to the door. She was whimpering at him and saying something in whining, broken sentences. Walter was nodding and patting her back as he maneuvered her out of the room. “I’ll be in touch, Rose. Don’t give Jack a hard time about this. He was driven to it.”

  Rose nodded her head and closed the door behind them.

  Then remembering the perking coffee, she went to turn off the burner—luckily she caught it before it had all boiled away.

  February 1934

  Jack never did forgive Claire Louise, though she did venture back now and then, always stopping at the grocery store downstairs first to make sure Jack was gone and wouldn’t be back for as long as she visited.

  Rose didn’t like keeping those visits a secret from her husband, but she liked even less the idea of him finding out about them.

  And Rose believed that Claire Louise really did want to be a good Christian and that she wanted to make up with Jack. So she never told her to stop coming. It would have been pleasant to have a good relationship with the Bradleys. Then they could have visited in that grand house and Sister Claire was always wanting to buy things for Rose, which of course she couldn’t because of Jack’s bad feelings. And after that last December’s argument about accepting her Christmas presents, Rose knew there would be no more offers.

  So the years had passed and although Rose never did give up hope entirely for a real reconciliation, she got to where she didn’t really believe it would ever happen.

  But now! Now all things were being made brand new! And wasn’t it grand how the Lord just planned everything out so perfect. At any other time in their marriage a baby could have been a worrisome burden. For so much of the time there hadn’t been a spare penny for anything extra. Hardly enough for even the necessary things, but now since Jack had this really fine job … they already had more money than they needed and he’d only been there a month. As hard as Jack worked and as likable as he was, the Lord only knew how far he could go! Soon they could get a house in the country or at least in a neighborhood with grass and trees and backyards. And little Jack (she just knew their baby was a boy made in the image of his handsome Daddy) could have lots of nice little boys and girls to play with and go to school with, and later on there’d be a real special girl he’d love for all his life and eventually marry.

  “O sweet Jesus!” Rose prayed over and over, “Thank you for being so good to me!” She could hardly stay in bed, there was so much going on in her mind. She felt there must be something she ought to be doing but it was not yet dawn and she hadn’t slept at all. She probably needed more rest now. “Oh Jack, please come home.” She said it out loud that time and hugged his pillow tighter and then she said it again and again, while tears of frustration leaked down her cheeks. After a while she started rolling back and forth clutching the pillow against her body and absolutely losing control.

  “Jack Nash—I cain’t stand it anymore. If you don’t come home I’m going to Claire Louise’s house!” She sat bolt upright in bed, realizing she had all but screamed the words out. Shocked at her lack of control she pressed the end of the pillow over her mouth while hot tears washed down to be absorbed in the feathers. She lost track of time passing while she sat there like that, her naked legs crossed under her, watching the sky through the windows grow pale as daylight began even though it was another cloudy one. It was then that she heard the creak of the front door swinging open and she listened to it close again and then she heard Jack’s footsteps bringing him through the parlor to where she waited clutching his tear-soaked pillow.

  He was surprised to find her awake and sitting up like that and even more surprised when he became aware of the whimpering sound she was making and then he saw her tear-swollen eyes.

  Jack undressed quickly and was soon in bed with her, tossing aside the damp pillow and pulling her close into him.

  “What’s the matter, Sugar?” he asked. “Why the tears?” He wiped them off her cheeks with his thumb and looked deeply into her eyes in the dim gray light while he tried to imagine the meaning of them.

  Rose couldn’t stop sobbing. In fact it only got worse and worse the more he tried to console her. So he gave up trying to get an answer and just started kissing her eyes, her forehead, her nose, and finally her mouth working her into a prone position where he could lie beside her and study the situation from a more comfortable angle. Naturally all that comforting and studying led to more and more intimate positions until it got out of hand altogether and Jack never did find out what was the cause of her tears. He did notice the soggy pillow however, and in a fit of self-indulgence just before he turned over to fall asleep he jerked hers out from under her head and replaced it with his chilly damp one.

  The day had advanced into early afternoon before they awoke again. The sky looked even darker through the windows then it had at dawn and sure enough the air was full of snowflakes. Not those big fat lazy ones but tiny, sharp, swiftly falling bits that were almost ice. They were so thick Rose couldn’t see across the street when she looked out and looking down she saw only a dizzying circular movement as the snow blew in every direction on a howling wind. It was not the kind of day she’d hoped it would be. She wished for sunshine and bright blue skies or even one of those softly dreamy snowfalls wouldn’t have been bad, but this! This was ugly and dangerous and full of bad omens. Not at all the kind of day to tell Jack about his baby.

  She turned her back to the window and rested against the sill. She could feel the cold wind right through the pane and it chilled her very soul. A feeling of dread washed over her. The same kind of terror she’d felt all those years ago when she watched Flora running away to the house and her papa pounding down the dusty lane toward her with the devil’s own malevolence in his eyes.

  Rose’s body shuddered involuntarily and she flew across the room and back to Jack’s side in the bed. He opened his eyes when her body touched his and he gave her one of his most dazzling smiles. “Feelin’ better, Sugar?” He mumbled and his arms reached for her and pulled her closer. “I don’t like it when you’re sad, Rosy. It makes me hurt to see you sad.” He kissed her and then laid his face against hers on her pillow. “You want to talk about it?”

  Rose thought about that for a time, but when she finally talked it wasn’t
what she needed to say to him anyway. “I miss you so much whenever you go away, Jack. I cain’t hardly stand it when you’re gone.”

  He nodded. “I hate that too, Rosy.” Then he raised up on an elbow and looked down at her. “I reckon that’s about the worst thing about this job.” He was tracing around her mouth with one of his fingers and she was beginning to want him to love her again. His eyes followed his fingers and when he traced around her eyes, their eyes met and she grabbed his hand pressing it to her mouth. “I love you, Jack Nash! I love you so bad I feel like I could die of it. I don’t want you to be away from me anymore. I’d rather be poor again then have you away from me!”

  Jack’s sky-blue eyes widened with wonder. “Why, Rose Sharon! It pleases me to hear you say that.”

  She glared up at him. “You already knew that, you wicked man. The thing that pleases you is me bein’ such a fool for you. You are just as mean today as you were the first time I told you how much I loved you.”

  His eyes began to crinkle, although his mouth turned very serious. “Come on now, Sweet Rosy! You break my heart when you talk like that. You think I don’t know what a lucky man I am to be laying here next to the prettiest woman any man ever laid eyes on, not to mention the softest and sweetest and tastiest…” His voice drifted away as he lowered his head and closed his mouth once more over hers.

  Darkness crept into the room very early that afternoon and as happy as Rose was to have Jack lying beside her, the strange dread of the earlier hour kept crowding in on her. She had a perfectly natural desire to tell him about the baby and she worked up to it three or four times during the course of the day, but somehow she never managed to get it done. She couldn’t begin to understand what stopped her. Or why. She was so sure he’d be pleased and excited and happy. Wouldn’t he? Maybe it was just her own worries. Maybe she was a little jealous thinking she’d have to share him finally with somebody else. Even if it was her own flesh and blood. Well, she reasoned to herself, it would be hard to share him, but she’d adjust to it. You just did what you had to do.