Gospel According to Prissy

by Barbara Casey

  Darnell put Prissy down. “Go play with your doll, Prissy.” She had heard all she wanted of Bible verses since moving back from Atlanta. Her Grams had always quoted fire and brimstone to suit her needs, which was mostly to scare her and her sister, Tanya. But now with Prissy doing whatever it was she was doing, Darnell didn’t know how much more she could take.

  Darnell missed her older sister tremendously. She had looked up to her; Tanya had protected her. Without her, Darnell just couldn’t seem to do anything right. Tanya had been the smart one. She made good grades in school and worked part time to help with expenses. When it had been the two of them, their grandmother’s rantings hadn’t seemed so bad. They could talk to each other and sometimes even make fun of their Grams. “She’s just old,” they would tell one another rolling their eyes at each other and making funny faces. “She doesn’t even know what she’s saying.” But then Grams had come down hard on Tanya. She accused her of fornication and told her she was going to burn in hell. “And the kings of the earth, who have committed fornication and lived deliciously with her, shall bewail her, and lament for her, when they shall see the smoke of her burning….” Darnell could still hear her grandmother screaming those words.

  That was the night Tanya ran off. Darnell begged her not to leave. “I just need to get out of here for a while,” she told Darnell. She walked to the convenience store a couple of blocks away and tried to steal a beer. One stupid beer. The store manager had a gun and told Tanya he was going to call the police. Just then an off-duty cop came in and saw what was happening, and in all of the confusion the gun went off killing the cop. It was Tanya who got the blame, and it was Tanya who went to prison.

  It was hard for Darnell to get along with her grandmother then. She couldn’t help but think if her Grams hadn’t been so hard on Tanya, she wouldn’t have run off like that. The thing she couldn’t put out of her mind was that Tanya didn’t even like beer. It was just a stupid act on her part that should never have happened. Darnel went to stay with a cousin in Atlanta after that to get away from everything. She couldn’t stand listening to her grandmother quote scripture, and she didn’t want to wind up in prison like her sister. In Atlanta she had started to make a new life for herself at a different school and with different friends. She could go to parties and do pretty much whatever she wanted to, and no one would tell her she was going to burn in hell. She had even found a part-time job. She liked having her own money.

  That was all changed now. And her sister was dead. She had promised Tanya she would take care of Prissy and do what was best for her, and she would. It was hard, though. It was hard knowing the right thing to do

  Darnell slumped down on the sofa and covered her face. If only Grams hadn’t yelled at Tanya that night and Tanya hadn’t gotten into trouble, none of this would have happened to begin with. Now with Tanya gone and the trial and all – she just didn’t know how much more she could take. The worst part was, Grams was probably right. She was going to burn in hell.

  Bulah Tilden shuffled over to the old wooden chest that was pushed up against the far wall and opened the top drawer where she kept her pouch and tin can. It was getting close to that time of day when the shade would stretch to the front porch and she could enjoy the outside a little, sitting in her rocking chair. “Fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell,” she quoted as she went out on the front porch to sit a spell.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LIFE WITHOUT PRISSY proved more of a challenge than even Miriam had expected. Without that balance that Prissy had provided, as quirky as that balance was, life simply ceased to exist at Braden. The routine remained the same, but no one showed any interest in anything. There was movement but no thought or direction behind the movement. Everything seemed out of synchronization. The very soul of Braden had been taken away, and now all that was left was an empty shell.

  Miriam couldn’t help but feel responsible. After all, she had allowed it to happen. Prissy had been given the run of the place pretty much, spreading love and hope and joy to everyone who needed it, and her gospel as she understood it to anyone who wanted to listen. Even without fully comprehending the concept of the Holy Trinity, she understood enough so that by using the things she was familiar with – Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy, and on occasion, Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer or even sometimes a pilgrim – her message came through strong and clear. The prison and Prissy had become defined by the inmates as a single, inseparable entity; but now, without Prissy, there were only walls, locks, and despair.

  Miriam counseled the inmates daily. It would pass, this feeling of loss, she told them, for that was what was happening. They were grieving for the loss of a child. Their child. Miriam tried calling the family where Prissy now lived – the grandmother and the aunt. She thought if she could just pass on some news about Prissy, perhaps it would cheer up her girls. But no one would talk to her. Darnell would simply slam the phone down, and if the grandmother answered, either she couldn’t hear or she just didn’t want to talk. Either way, Miriam got nowhere. She asked Social Services if she could accompany one of their representatives on a visitation. She knew there must be regularly-scheduled visitations in order to check on Prissy. But so far no one had called her. It was terribly frustrating. As much as she worried about her girls at Braden, she knew that eventually, given enough time, they would pull themselves out of their grief. Prissy, on the other hand, was a different matter altogether. She was special. She was gifted. And Miriam worried that such a child might wither in the wrong environment. She was concerned about Prissy more than she even dared to admit to herself.

  True to his word Senator MacAlly had pulled some strings and managed to get the work project that Miriam wanted for Braden placed front and center on the list of budget requests the governor would decide on. For now, however, there wasn’t much she could do until the governor could decide where he would get the funds. It was just as well. If the girls had no interest, the project would fail anyway. She would just have to find a way to get the inmates involved again, but thinking this, she also knew that each woman would have to work through her grief in her own way. That would require time and patience.

  * * *

  The May term students returned from England. Graduation was to be held on the following Sunday. Lara had very little to do at the office other than answer phone calls and acknowledge letters. She helped out in the records office for a while, but even there the activity had slowed to a trickle. Lara still couldn’t decide on what she wanted to do. The manager of Wachovia Bank called one day to tell her he had an opening in his loan department. She knew him from his recent donation to Piedmont. She thanked him, but that kind of job didn’t interest her.

  All of the secretaries brought food for a party that was to follow the graduation ceremony. It was set up in the conference room. Lara delayed going until it was almost time to go home. It would be so difficult saying goodbye.

  Everyone was already there when she walked in – the faculty, administrative staff and secretaries, and Tyree along with a few other students who were reluctant to leave or had no where in particular to go. Dr. Peters had opened the liquor cabinet, and several members of the faculty were obviously drunk. Lara went around the room speaking to everyone, knowing this would probably be the last time she would see most of them. Tyree gave her a Blue Bulldogs tee-shirt. “Just a little something to remember me by,” he told her.

  “Lara?”

  The switchboard operator had come in. “There’s a phone call for you. I put it through in here.”

  “Thank you, Jeanie.” Lara picked up the phone on the small table next to the liquor cabinet.

  “Hello, this is Lara.”

  “Lara, this is Leona. Leona Walker Kruger.”

  Lara stopped breathing. She heard several people talking near her; someone laughed. She heard a chair scrape on the bare polished oak floor. She heard ice
cubes being dropped into a glass. And she heard Leona Kruger tell her that Jake had beaten her.

  “I just don’t know what to do,” Leona cried softly into the phone. “He just went crazy.”

  “Do you know what triggered it?” Lara knew she had spoken, but the words seemed to come from someone else.

  “Simon, that old man who is always hanging around, told me that Jake has been shacking up with a college girl. I’m sure Simon would never have said anything to me except for some reason he thought Jake had something to do with his dog getting killed.”

  Shacking up. Lara didn’t know people still used that expression.

  “He was letting her stay at Old Town Farm. So when I asked him about it he started throwing things and yelling. He said it was all my fault. That he should still be married to you. But you thought you were too good for him. And then, and then . . .”

  Leona couldn’t talk any more. Lara felt sick. All of the fear she thought was buried and hidden surfaced once again. Once again she felt the pain of his cruel blows and hateful words. Once again she felt the disgust and revulsion for a man with whom she had been intimate.

  “Leona, listen to me.”

  “I just feel so ashamed,” she whispered into the phone.

  “Is Jake still there?”

  “No. I don’t know where he is. He just stormed out, tearing up everything in his path.”

  “Are you able to drive? Do you have somewhere you can go – someone you can go to where he can’t find you?” Lara waited but got no answer. “Leona, this is important. He will be back, and he will hurt you again if you are still there.”

  “Oh, God.” Leona was crying hysterically.

  “Stop it, right now!” Lara said it with such forcefulness that several people nearby looked at her. Lara turned toward the wall, cupping the receiver closer to her mouth. “You must get hold of yourself and get out of there. Leave everything and go where he can’t find you. Can you do that?”

  After a pause Lara heard her say, “Yes, I’ll go to my friend’s house.”

  “All right. When you get to your friend’s house, call the police and have them fill out a report. And make sure they take pictures of you if there are any cuts or bruises.”

  “But why?”

  “You’ll need proof if you decide to take it to court. Leona, he won’t stop with just this once. Believe me.”

  “I do, Lara. I believe you. I’m sorry. Thank you.”

  Lara held the receiver in her hand and stared at the wall in front of her. It’s all your fault, Lara. You just don’t understand how much pressure I’m under. Maybe if you’d stop thinking about yourself for once, things like this wouldn’t happen. You know I don’t mean to hurt you. I love you. But you make me do it. She couldn’t open her fingers to put the phone down so she just stood there staring at the wall. Gradually the different noises in the room started separating and drifting farther away leaving only Jake’s voice. Soon that too stopped, and like before in the hospital, Lara heard the sound of rushing water. And then the wall fell over.

  Tyree pried the phone out of Lara’s hand and somehow managed to get her out of the conference room without anyone noticing. He took her into Peters’ office and lay her down on the sofa. Then he grabbed a bunch of files off the desk and placed them under Lara’s feet to raise them.

  “Hey, Little Fox, you ain’t feelin’ too good, huh?”

  Lara looked around her, not recognizing where she was.

  “It’s OK. Tyree is here. You just havin’ a bad day. It’ll get better.”

  Lara closed her eyes to keep from falling off the sofa. If only the room would stop spinning. She felt Tyree take her hand in his two big ones and gently coax her fingers open. All the while he kept talking, calmly, slowly. “That’s right, Little Fox. You and me is goin’ around this full court defense and in for a slam dunk. You can do it. Tyree is with you.”

  Slowly she could feel her body relax.

  “Now you got it. That opposing team—they’s just a bunch of little shits. We’re faster and better than them. You got nothin’ to worry about.”

  One by one her fingers opened.

  * * *

  After talking to Lara at the college, Leona wasted no time. She grabbed her pocketbook, her jewelry case, and her toothbrush and left. She believed Lara when she told her he would be back, and she sure as hell didn’t want to be around for that. She would fight Jake, but on her own terms and on her own turf – not like some piece of trash off the street. Most of her immediate family was either dead or scattered to other places, but she had lots of friends. Friends she had known for years. The Caldwells, the Jenkins, Anne and Doug Carter. Friends with influence and power. Any one of them would help her.

  She decided to go to Jeanie and Ralph Langdon. Ralph’s father had been her family’s attorney ever since Leona could remember, and now that Ralph had joined his father’s practice, he was also involved in Leona’s business and personal matters. He and Jeanie and Leona and Alton had grown up together and gone to the same schools. They attended each other’s wedding. When Alton died, they were there to comfort her. And when Leona married Jake, they accepted it and with no hesitation included Leona and her new husband in their social gatherings. They were good friends. They were like family. They would know what she should do.

  Leona sped through town toward Summerwynde where Jeanie and Ralph lived. “Of all the stupid, dumb-ass things I have done in my life, this has to be the worst,” she muttered to herself. She stopped at a red traffic light and examined her face in the rearview mirror. Her eye was swollen and bloodshot. Her lip was swollen as well, but at least it had stopped bleeding. The driver in the car behind her blew his horn when the light turned green. Leona leaned out the window and yelled, “Fuck you!” which was a mistake because it only made her head pound harder.

  Lara might have been able to put up with the bastard for nine years, but not Leona. The son-of-a-bitch had been screwing around with some college coed while she, Leona, had done everything possible financially and every other way to make his miserable, stinking ass comfortable. Thank God she hadn’t added his name to all of her bank accounts. There had only been the one checking account – his “play money” they had jokingly called it, and she would take care of that immediately with one phone call so that Jake would never see another cent that belonged to her. He had convinced her that with all of the responsibility on him he had a lot of stress. If he just didn’t have to worry about having money when he needed it. Leona wanted to be a good wife to him and help. The last thing she wanted was to add to his stress. So she had kept his account full. Leona banged the steering wheel as she remembered the number of times he had reminded her to make a deposit, many times only days after she had already deposited several hundred dollars. She banged it again when she remembered he told her their age difference didn’t matter. That she was the most beautiful woman he had ever been with. She knew better. Deep down she knew. A man like Jake with his sexual appetite was never satisfied with just one woman. Especially an old one. “All the while he was making it with some little school girl and spending the money – my money – that I put in his bank account. And he had the nerve to yell at me for drinking his goddamn Wild Turkey – the same Wild Turkey that I bought and paid for.”

  Leona continued talking out loud to herself as she swung her big Mercedes into her friends’ driveway. “Well, I’ll show him who the fool is in this relationship. He might think I am an ‘old woman,’ but by the time I’m through with his ass, he’ll wish he was old enough to die.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WHEN LARA OPENED her eyes, it was the next morning and she was at home in her bed. She was wearing a tee-shirt with a picture of the Blue Bulldogs’ mascot printed on the front of it. It looked like the shirt Tyree had given her. After a closer examination, she realized she had nothing else on.

  She couldn’t remember how she got home. For some reason she associated the night with Tyree, Randall, and some man in a wheelc
hair with something dark smeared all over his face – the kind of stuff the military uses for camouflage.

  Other than not remembering the events of the previous evening, Lara felt wonderfully rested. She thought she smelled coffee. She pulled on some socks and went into the kitchen where she found a pot of fresh coffee brewing. A note was propped next to it: “We’ll check in on you later.” It was signed, “Your Honor Guard.”

  Lara was totally mystified. Why couldn’t she remember anything? And who was the Honor Guard? She glanced at the clock on the stove. It was half past seven. She had told Beth and Carole that she would be at the courthouse at nine o’clock this morning. At least she thought this was the right morning. She picked up the phone and dialed Carole’s number – just in case. Carole answered on the first ring.

  “Carole, what day is this?”

  “I hope you are joking,” answered Carole. “This is the mother of all days.”

  It was the right day. “I’ll see you at the courthouse at nine.”

  Lara drank a cup of coffee and ate a bowl of cereal. By the time she showered and dressed, she just had enough time to get to the courthouse, but she had to hurry.

  The police officer stationed at the door informed Lara that Beth and her parents were already inside with Tom Dillard. Lara entered the courtroom and sat on the bench reserved for family members located directly behind the defense table. The courtroom was already packed with people. In a few minutes Carole and Bob came in and sat down next to Lara. A few minutes later Beth came in following Tom Dillard. She glanced at Lara and gave her a weak smile before she sat down at the defense table. Beth looked scared, but at least Carole was composed, or she was putting on a good act. Lara squeezed Carole’s hand.