Fiery Rivers

by Daefyd Williams

  Three months after their arrival, they had gone to Buck Medford’s tent meeting in Sunnyslope. Adam later told Marie that he had gone out of curiosity just to see a tent that could hold ten thousand people and to please her. She went for a more ulterior motive—she wanted Adam to be freed from the alcoholic demon that she knew lived inside him. He was usually pleasant and amenable to her suggestions, but when he was drinking, he became someone else, someone she didn’t like and was afraid of. He had once put his fist through a wall of their house when she had questioned him about being out all night. She knew that if he didn’t get help, she was going to have to leave him, and he was the only man she had ever known. She was reluctant to leave with two young boys, and she had seen Buck Medford on television and was impressed by what she saw. He could heal people.

  The tent was huge. It was stiflingly hot inside, despite the large fans that were placed at the openings of the tent to blow hot air down each aisle. People were fanning themselves with Wondrous Miracles magazine, Buck Medford’s periodical that had been given to each member of the audience as he or she entered. The audience was dressed in its Sunday best, the men in suits and the women in dresses and hats. Marie had felt out of place because she and Adam had not dressed up. They were wearing their everyday clothes. They had left the boys at Uncle Kenoy’s.

  After “I’ll Fly Away” was sung by a petite female singer accompanied by organ music, the great man strode onto the stage, smiling confidently, from the center of the red-striped backdrop at the rear. He was dressed in a gray suit with a white shirt and a black tie. A gold tie clasp held the tie to his shirt. He walked to the front of the stage and raised his arms, indicating that the audience was to stand, which it did. He began singing “Jesus Heals,” the audience accompanying him. When the hymn was finished, he asked, “Can you feel the love of Jesus in your hearts tonight, brothers and sisters?”

  The audience agreed, “Amen.”

  “Can you feel him present, right here, right now?”

  “Amen.”

  “Everyone please raise your arms.” He raised his arms to heaven and prayed, “We love you, Jesus. We praise thee for thy blessings. We are so grateful to thee because you are so good to us. And tonight we ask thee for thy blessings on every man, woman, and child in this audience, to save them and set them free, and to give them joy and contentment. We thank thee, Lord. Amen.”

  Marie had not raised her arms, but she began to feel the stirrings of a longing in her soul, a desire for peace and happiness. She was enthralled by Buck Medford’s every word.

  “Now before you sit down, please turn and shake hands with your neighbor, smile and say, ‘Jesus loves you tonight.’ Then sit down.”

  Adam and Marie awkwardly and nervously shook hands with their neighbors.

  “Tonight,” he continued, “I will be reading from the gospel of Mark, chapter one, verses twenty-one through twenty-seven. If you brought your Bibles, you may read along with me if you wish.”

  Marie leaned forward in anticipation. “At last,” she thought. “At last.”

  “And if you have ever been respectful in your life, I ask you to be respectful now, for tonight I will be casting out demons, and I always ask Jesus to protect me when I do as he did. Please follow along with me now as I read from Mark, chapter one, verse twenty-one:

  And they went into Capernaum; and straightway on the

  Sabbath day he entered into the synagogue, and taught.

  And they were astonished at his doctrine: for he taught

  them as one that had authority, and not as the scribes.

  And there was in their synagogue a man with an

  unclean spirit; and he cried out, Saying, Let us alone;

  what have we to do with thee, thou Jesus of Nazareth?

  Art thou come to destroy us? I know thee who thou art,

  the Holy One of God. And Jesus rebuked him, saying,

  Hold thy peace and come out of him. And when the

  unclean spirit had torn him, and cried with a loud

  voice, he came out of him. And they were all amazed,

  insomuch that they questioned among themselves,

  saying, What thing is this? What new doctrine is this?

  For with authority commandeth he even the unclean

  spirits, and they do obey him.

  Now, brothers and sisters, the devil recognized the Son of Man as soon as he walked into the synagogue! But Jesus simply said, ‘Hold thy peace and come out of him.’ And when Jesus uttered those words, the demon came out of him. Do you believe that Jesus can cast out demons and make you whole?”

  “Amen.”

  As he talked and gesticulated, two black curls of hair crept down the right side of his forehead. “Do you believe that Jesus has the power to cast out your demons and make you whole and save your soul from the burning lake of fire? Say amen.”

  “Amen.”

  “Now those of you who are not saved, don’t you want to be saved tonight and be with Jesus in heaven for eternity? Please give up your sinful ways and come and join us tonight. Give your souls to Jesus and rejoice with us when we enter the pearly gates of heaven together, where we’ll sing praises to God instead of burning in the lake of fire. Please hold up your hands if you’d like to join us.”

  Some members of the audience raised their hands.

  “Thank you, Jesus, but I know many more of you are hearing him calling you and ignoring the sound of my voice. Please raise your hand and get saved tonight, brothers and sisters. Don’t wait. Jesus may come tonight and you don’t want to spend eternity in the lake of fire. Again, raise your hands if you want to join us in heaven. Please raise your hands. Jesus is waiting for you.”

  More people raised their hands, including Adam and Marie. Marie had been overjoyed that Adam had raised his hand.

  “Now those of you who raised your hands, please come down and stand in front of me. Thank you, Jesus. Come down now. Don’t sit back down. Listen to Jesus calling you. Come down. Come down.” He began to sing as the people who had raised their hands came to the front and stood before him: “Jesus is tenderly calling you home—Calling today, calling today.”

  When all the sinners were gathered in front of him, he said, “Now that you have made the most important decision of your life, I want you to go out to the prayer tent and get down on your knees and ask Jesus for forgiveness and pray until you know that Jesus has forgiven you and you are saved. I won’t pray for the sick until you return. So please follow my associates out to the prayer tent and pray. Go now. Let’s all sing ‘The Old Rugged Cross’:”

  On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,

  The emblem of suffering and shame;

  And I love that old cross where the Dearest and Best

  For a world of lost sinners was slain.

  When Adam and Marie dropped to their knees in the prayer tent on one of the red carpets that had been laid between ten rows of plywood altars, as they were asked to do by Buck Medford’s associates, and prayed to the Lord to save their souls and repented of their sins, they were saved. They felt a heavy burden lift from their souls, a burden that they had not been aware they had been carrying until it was lifted. They wept. They left the tent smiling, hand in hand and feeling twenty pounds lighter. They went back to their seats and watched Buck Medford pray for and heal a man who had been blind for twenty years, a fifty-year-old man who stuttered, and a man in a wheelchair, who got out of his wheelchair and walked. It was all so wonderful that Marie wondered why they had not gotten saved earlier. That was seven years ago now.

  A dream stealthily and quietly crept into Marie’s reverie; her father, dressed in bib overalls and a red flannel shirt, was on a tractor next to an apple grove. A dog was barking. There was a thud, a high-pitched yelp, a squeal of tires, and the sound of a car roaring away. Suddenly she was awake. Dukie had been hit! “Adam!” she cried out, “Dukie’s been hit!”

  “Wha . . . huh?”

  “Somebody’s done hit D
ukie! I heard it!”

  Adam flung off the sheet and leapt out of bed, Marie closely following. Devon and Del came out of their room.

  “What happen’, Mommy?” Del asked.

  “Somebody’s hit Dukie,” she replied.

  They found him lying in the ditch next to the front yard. He was whimpering. Adam grabbed him up in his arms and carried him to the back porch. Marie turned on the porch light. Adam gingerly laid him down on the porch. There were black tire marks across his white belly. He knelt beside him and caressed his head. “You’re gonna be alright, boy,” he said.

  “Why don’tchou take him to the pet doctor, Daddy?” Del asked plaintively.

  Adam glanced sharply at Del. “You know we ain’t got no money for no pet doctor,” he said. “Let’s pray for ‘im, Mother.” Adam and Marie both laid their hands on the dog’s head. “Jesus, if it’s thy will, we ask that you spare this dog’s life. In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  “Amen,” echoed Marie.

  Dukie stopped breathing.

  “He’s gone,” Adam said matter-of-factly.

  Devon and Del began crying. “I just puh . . . petted him a few minutes ago,” Del sobbed.

  “Well, they ain’t nothin’ gonna hep ‘im now,” Adam proclaimed. “He’s in heaven. You young’uns can bury ‘im tomorr’. I’ll put ‘im in the g’rage for tonight.” He laid Dukie on the braided oval rug in front of the back door and carried him into the garage. Devon and Del were wailing.

  “Hush, now, young’uns,” Marie tried to console them. “He’s gone till we see ‘im again in heaven.”

  “Do animals really go to heaven, Mommy?” Del asked.

  “Why, course they do. God woulden separate you from what you love in heaven. He’s an all-lovin’ God. Dukie’ll be waitin’ for us. You’ll see.”

  There was some comfort in her words, but the boys slept fitfully all night, as did Adam and Marie. It was the boys’ first introduction to death. Devon wondered what type of person would veer off the road deliberately to kill a dog and then drive away without even stopping. How could anyone be so cruel?

  In the morning, after breakfast, Marie told the children to take Dukie to Mrs. Slusher’s house and bury him in the back lot. “I called Leona this mornin’ an’ told her what happen’ an’ she offered to let us bury ‘im on her property, since they got more land than us. Bless her heart. She’s storin’ up rewards in heaven. You put ‘im in your wagon an’ borry a shovel from Lemuel’s g’rage. And don’t forgit to thank Leona ‘fore you leave.”

  “We won’t Mommy,” Del said. “C’mon, Dev. Let’s go bury ‘im.”

  “I wanta go too,” Gloryann whined. “I wanta go too.”

  Marie looked at her as she was removing the cereal bowls from the table and was going to say that she was too young, but changed her mind and said, “Del, take your sister, too. Dukie was as much hers as everybody else’s. You watch her good, now.”

  “Alright, Mommy. Come on, Dev. Let’s go put ‘im in the wagon.”

  Devon pulled the red wagon from the backyard into the garage, where Del and Gloryann were looking down at Dukie. His eyes were closed, his tongue drooped out of his mouth, and the black tire marks were still visible across his belly. Del squatted and placed his hands underneath the braided rug and gently placed him into the wagon. “He’s stiff,” Del said, surprised.

  “Do you reckon that’s what happens to us when we die?” Devon inquired.

  “I reckon,” Del replied. “At least he is.”

  With a heavy sadness weighing upon their souls, they began their procession north along Marcella Drive, left around the dogleg, and then right onto Pennyroyal Road, Del pulling the wagon and Devon walking beside him. Gloryann walked beside the wagon and stroked Dukie’s side. “He’s cold, too,” she remarked. They went down the dip just past Bruce Drive and then left into the Slushers’ driveway.

  Rennie came out the front door and approached the boys. “You bring a shovel?” he asked.

  “Nah. Mommy said we could use one o’ your daddy’s,” Del replied.

  “I’ll get one. Take ‘im out in the back beyond the crab apple tree.”

  “OK. Two shovels’ll be faster,” Del said.

  “I’ll see if he’s got two. Didja see who hit ‘im?” Rennie asked.

  “No,” Devon answered, “they was gone when we come out.”

  “Too bad,” Rennie commented. “Do ya think they did it on purpose?”

  “Daddy thinks so,” Del answered. “He said it was prob’ly one o’ them crazy teenagers that lives at the end o’ the block.”

  “Prob’ly,” Rennie agreed. “Prob’ly got tired o’ Dukie barkin’ an’ chasin’ their car every time they drove past.”

  “Yeah, prob’ly,” Del said.

  Del pulled the wagon thirty feet north of the crab apple tree where tall weeds grew along the back fence. Rennie came out with a spade and a snow shovel. “These are the only shovels we got,” he said. He and Del tried to dig with both shovels, but they discovered that the snow shovel was not good for digging, so Del dug by himself with the spade.

  The back door slammed and Angela came out, smiling and twirling her blond hair with her right forefinger. Gloryann waved to her and smiled. Angela waved back and came and stood beside her and took her hand. She looked curiously at Del digging the hole and then saw Dukie lying on the braided rug in the wagon. She instantly dropped Gloryann’s hand, rushed up to the dog, kneeled beside him with a distraught look on her face, and began petting him on the head. “Waaahh!” she yelled. “Waaah! Waaah!”

  Rennie signed to her that the dog was dead and that Del was digging a hole in which to bury him. She began shaking her head no over and over. Del finished digging the hole and placed the dog and the rug down into it. Everyone looked down at Dukie. “He was a good ol’ dog,” Del said.

  “Yeah, he was,” Rennie agreed.

  Angela stood up and moved away from the wagon, stretched her arms straight out from her shoulders, began mouthing something silently with her lips, and rotated around and around slowly, looking up at the sky. They all turned their faces skyward. They saw nothing at first. Then from the hazy blue they could see a black speck descending from a great height.

  “What’s she sayin’, Rennie?” Del asked.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never seen her do this. Wha’da ya think that is?”

  Suddenly, they could see that the black speck was a yellow-and-black butterfly, slowly descending in a spiral pattern that followed the circular motion of Angela’s outstretched arms. When the butterfly was directly above her, it rose and fell briefly above her head and then alighted on her upturned right palm. She brought it close to her face and said, “Wanah. Wanah. Wanah.” The butterfly pulsed its wings. She walked over to Dukie and squatted beside him. The butterfly flew to his head and landed on his nose. Then she smiled, looked up at the blue sky, stood up, and began rotating as she had before, her arms outstretched. Again, there was nothing. Then a long, thin, black spiral appeared, slowly descending towards Angela like a black curl from the portals of heaven. As it got closer to earth, they could see that the spiral was thousands of butterflies, flying one behind another, all seemingly connected and being pulled to earth by an invisible thread attached to her upturned right hand as she slowly moved around and around.

  “Wow!” Rennie exclaimed.

  “Neat!” Del agreed.

  Devon stood with his mouth agape. Gloryann clapped her hands.

  As the butterflies reached the top of Angela’s head, they swirled down and around her body and arms, forming a pulsating mass of thousands of glorious, multicolored wings. She stopped rotating and pointed her right arm down towards Dukie. The butterflies fluttered to him and landed upon him until he was completely obscured. They beat their wings rapidly and began to rise slowly skyward, taking the dog with them. As they ascended, long butterfly arms extended from his body like the arms of a spiral galaxy, which turned slowly and expanded wider and wider as the dog r
ose. The children watched it until it was just a dark spot against the hazy blue sky, and then it disappeared.

  Angela’s arms were pointed straight up to the sky, a beatific expression on her upturned face. As the spiral mass of butterflies had slowly risen, the heavy sadness in the Hensley children’s hearts had been dislodged and pulled up and out with its rising. Their souls were light and buoyant by the time it disappeared. Devon felt that he could almost fly.

  “Holy moly!” Rennie exulted. “I’ve never seen nothin’ like that.”

  “Me neither,” Del said. “I guess he went to heaven, huh?”

  “He sure did. And right before our eyes. I guess we can fill in the hole now. Dukie won’t be needin’ it no more.”

  “No, he sure won’t,” Del beamed. He took the braided rug out of the hole, beat it twice against the side of the wagon to knock off the dirt, put it into the wagon, and grabbed the spade. “Let’s git this filled in,” he said to Rennie.

  “OK,” he replied, grabbing the snow shovel.

  Angela, still smiling blissfully, went over to Gloryann, took her by the hand, and they walked into the house. When they closed the kitchen door, Leona turned from the sink, where she was doing the breakfast dishes and, signing, asked Angela if they had buried Dukie. “Teen Angel” was playing on the radio atop the refrigerator. Angela signed that he had gone to heaven.

  “Of course he did, honey,” Leona signed, smiling. “All of God’s children go to heaven.” She turned back to the sink to finish the dishes and began to hum along with the song. “That song is so sad,” she thought, “but it really shows a true love, the kind I once thought I had with Lem.”

  Still smiling, Angela took Gloryann into her bedroom where she showed her how to cut out pictures of cats and paste them into her scrapbooks.