“Church?”
“Yes, ma’am. Has nobody invited you yet? There’s the church out on Old Chapel Road. Every Sunday at ten o’clock. You should come. The whole town goes. You can meet everybody. I could pick you up until your car gets fixed.”
After thinking a moment, she decided she should begin to meet her neighbors. She couldn’t live in a bubble forever. “All right, Rodger. You can pick me up on Sunday.”
“Yeah? Great! I’ll be here about quarter of ten.”
Soon, they reached Hazel’s farm. She got out of his truck and confirmed the time. Afterwards, he left her standing on her front porch. Her family went to church, but they’d stopped attending when her father fell ill. She never really cared for church anyway. She hoped she would like the church in Debarr, otherwise it’d be hard to live in the little town.
No matter what, at least she’d have another reason to see Carolyn.
Nine
Carolyn hated Sundays. Three years earlier, Thompson forced her to put on makeup and the nicest dress she owned. He paraded her around on his arm before and after service. It was a challenge to act like a doting and devout wife. Everything about being in that church made her feel vile.
She had hoped that she could avoid church, provided that Thompson worked every day of the week. However, one of the townspeople brought attention to her absences. Thompson took a lamp to her. She hadn’t missed a Sunday since.
Carolyn was glad she didn’t have to worry about makeup and a frilly dress anymore. Plain and simple was fine as long as somebody saw that she was there. Just to be safe, she would always thank the pastor for a nice sermon. They couldn’t miss her then.
There was a wooden pew in the back of the small church. Carolyn always sat there. She could hide in the corner to avoid prying eyes. Occasionally, she would nod off for a few minutes. The pastor’s dull voice had that impact on some people. She usually jolted awake when it was time to sing.
Carolyn found her corner as everybody began to file inside. Nothing seemed different at first. Then, she heard a familiar laugh. She leaned forward slightly to find Hazel was walking into the church with Rodger. Apparently, he had said something very funny. Hazel was still giggling.
Although Carolyn tried to pull backwards, Hazel saw her leaning over the pew. When Hazel drew nearer, Carolyn forgot to breathe. She had seen Hazel in breathtaking outfits before, but she had yet to see Hazel look so formal. It was too enchanting.
“Is this seat taken?” Hazel asked upon reaching Carolyn’s pew.
“No,” Carolyn said. “You walk here?”
Hazel sat primly at Carolyn’s side. “No. Rodger invited me.”
“That’s sweet of him. Glad you could come.”
“Me too. Rodger said the whole town comes, or close to it. I thought that it might be a good idea to meet everyone,” Hazel noted.
“They’ll be real nice to you. They might go and talk about you when your back is turned, but they’ll be nice when they look you in the eye,” Carolyn informed her.
“Charming. That sounds similar to the social circles that I traveled in when I lived in Boston.”
The room grew quiet while Pastor Gable took his place at the front. He was a wisp of a man with few hairs on his head and far too many hairs hanging from his jowls. It was the first time that Hazel was truly impressed by a beard. She felt like tugging on it just to see if it was real.
“Good morning,” his flat voice greeted.
“Good morning,” everybody, other than Hazel and Carolyn, responded in unison.
“Today, we will talk about overcoming all odds. The story of David and Goliath,” he announced.
The congregation pulled Bibles from under their pews. Carolyn handed one to Hazel and opened her own. Pastor Gable gave them instructions on where to find the proper passages. Roughly five minutes into the sermon, Hazel found herself nodding off. Carolyn lightly tapped her on the shoulder to wake her.
“Thanks,” Hazel muttered to Carolyn. “Is it me, or does that man have the most mind-numbing voice in history?”
Carolyn choked on a chuckle. “It’s not you.”
“Oh, good. Here I thought that I was just a heathen.”
The sermon lasted an hour. After that, the pastor pointed at a woman in the front row. “Today, Edith will be the one to lead us in song.”
Hazel searched the pew for something, though Carolyn wasn’t sure what. “What’re you doing, Hazel?”
“The sheet music for the songs. Where is it?” Hazel asked.
“No sheet music. We’re just supposed to know the songs.”
“How can I know the songs when I’ve never been here?” Hazel asked.
“I don’t know them, and I come here every Sunday. Just move your mouth and act like you’re real excited to be here. That’s what I do.”
Hazel watched Carolyn when the singing started. She snorted at Carolyn’s theatrics. Luckily, the loud voices of the congregation drowned Hazel’s uncontrollable laughter. Carolyn started to laugh with her. Before that morning, neither of them had met someone who was willing to giggle in a church. It was entirely liberating.
When the service was done, Carolyn went to Pastor Gable with Hazel in tow. Carolyn shook the pastor’s hand, nodded in Hazel’s direction, and then fled from the building. Hazel didn’t have time to say farewell. Pastor Gable was busy shaking her hand.
“Hello, I’m Pastor Gable. I haven’t seen you here before.”
“I moved to town not long ago. Rodger Richardson suggested that I stop by today. I’m Hazel Mayer,” Hazel explained.
“Well, I’m certainly glad you dropped in. Come with me. I’d like to introduce you to my wife,” Pastor Gable insisted.
Hazel followed him to a boney woman who had an impeccable fashion sense. Her hat alone was quite a show piece. She immediately gravitated towards her husband when she saw Hazel.
“My, who do we have here?” the pastor’s wife inquired.
“This is Hazel Mayer. She’s new in town,” Pastor Gable told her.
“The one that bought the old Twine place, I reckon. I’m Mrs. Ethel Gable. You can call me Mrs. Gable. You know, we have a little sewing circle after church on Sundays. Only a few of us women. Come along with me. You can join,” Mrs. Gable said.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I really can’t. I don’t have a car, and I hate the idea of asking my ride to stay for too long,” Hazel attempted to back away.
“I’ll run you home,” Mrs. Gable decided. “Come along, dear.”
Before Hazel could object, Mrs. Gable had her by the hand and led her away from Pastor Gable. She found herself in a dusty room in the back of the church. There were two other women there, and there was an abundance of sewing materials on every table. Hazel exhaled with frustration. There was no way she could excuse herself by saying she didn’t have the supplies to participate.
“Ladies, this is our new neighbor. She is the one that moved into the Twine farm,” Mrs. Gable announced.
“How lovely to meet you! I’m Mrs. Faye Bean,” one of the women said. She appeared to be roughly thirty-years-old, and she was not an attractive woman. Her pointed beak and bucked teeth were very distracting.
“I’m Mrs. Natalie Deanwood,” the last of the women said. She was around Hazel’s age, though she was more doe-eyed than Hazel. Nevertheless, she appeared to be the sincerest of the three women.
“It is wonderful to meet all of you. However, I think I’ll ruin your fun. I do not know the first thing about sewing, so I should leave you to it,” Hazel said.
“Come now, dear, we can teach you. Any respectable woman should know how to sew, Mrs. Mayer,” Mrs. Gable discreetly shoved Hazel towards a chair.
Hazel sat down uneasily. “Ms. Mayer.”
No one paid attention to Hazel’s correction. Mrs. Gable began to pick through their sewing supplies to find something suitable for Hazel. In the interim, Mrs. Faye Bean was ready to interrogate Hazel. Gossip was the only thing that kept her going.
“S
o, where is Mr. Mayer? Was he in church today?” Mrs. Bean wondered.
“My name is Ms. Mayer. Ms. Hazel Mayer. His name is Miller,” Hazel promptly said. This time, they heard her.
Mrs. Bean gasped. “You’re living together when you aren’t officially wed?”
“I’m not living with him. He’s in the war. I was sent here ahead of time to secure the farm,” Hazel responded. She hated that she felt like she needed to defend herself.
Fortunately, Mrs. Deanwood interjected. “I’m alone too. My husband is a medic in the war. Isn’t it horrible, knowing that the man you love is in danger every second of the day? I worry about him all the time.”
“Oh yes. It keeps me awake every night,” Hazel lied well.
“You must tell us all about Mr. Miller. And your life. We’d love to get to know you. It’s a small town and all that,” Mrs. Bean grinned. It wasn’t a polite grin. It was sly.
Hazel wasn’t going to talk about her life, if she could help it. She decided to turn the tables on Mrs. Bean. “I’m dreadfully boring, ma’am. I’d rather hear about life in Debarr.”
“Now, that’s dreadfully boring. Aren’t you from the big city? I’ve always wondered what that’s like. And your accent! It’s very nice. Where is it from?” Mrs. Bean returned.
“Boston. I’ve lived there all my life. Have you lived here your entire life, Mrs. Bean? Your accent is very nice too. I’ve always wondered what it’s like to grow up in a place with that sort of accent,” Hazel shot back.
Mrs. Bean was beginning to fluster. It was rare for anyone to challenge her. “I have been here my entire life. It gets so tiresome to talk about.”
“Oh, that’s all right. I’m sure that one of the other ladies here might feel up to talking about Debarr. How about you, Mrs. Deanwood? I’m fascinated to know about you and your medic husband,” Hazel said.
“My darling Joseph. I’m always glad to talk about him,” Mrs. Deanwood sighed.
Mrs. Bean’s shoulders slumped. Hazel won the battle. For the entire sewing circle, Mrs. Deanwood talked about her husband and childhood. Hazel didn’t mind it. The young woman was interesting enough, and Hazel was glad to see the figurative steam pour through Mrs. Bean’s ears.
If she had listened to Elmer’s words more closely, she would have remembered that there was a different sort of law in their town. It was not a good place to make enemies, and she was already angering the biggest busybody in Debarr. That was far from wise. In fact, it was reckless.
Hazel hadn’t any idea what could happen to sinners.
Ten
“I didn’t mind hearing the name Joseph about a thousand times. I minded that those other two—Mrs. Gable and Mrs. Bean—stared at me the entire time. Also, I almost sewed my thumb into a piece of fabric. Women can’t be respectable unless they can sew? Ridiculous. No wonder you don’t hang around for long,” Hazel fumed.
Carolyn lifted another shovel-full of horse droppings and added it to a growing pile. A cigarette hung from the corner of her mouth. She paused to take a drag.
“I hear that it’s not good for somebody to run out of a church that quick,” Carolyn said.
“Where’d you hear that? Mrs. Gable?” Hazel laughed.
That Thursday afternoon, they were deep in the throws of mucking the stalls. This was not something Hazel enjoyed doing, though she mused was probably true for everyone. She did enjoy noticing how much Carolyn loved that horse. He was standing just outside the barn.
Hazel still refused to ride him.
“Well, I say that you should ignore that sort of talk, Carolyn. People don’t know anything.”
“That’s sweet of you to say. But, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Carolyn tried to joke.
“You’re not old.”
“You don’t think that I’m old?” Carolyn wondered.
Hazel raised her eyebrows at the stunned expression on Carolyn’s face. “You must be joking. You are definitely not old. Now, Mrs. Gable, she’s old. She must have had a front row seat at the Civil War.”
“Seems like,” Carolyn agreed.
“She’s just the way you described. She was the person who took me home, by the way. I was overjoyed when she did the talking. I know that she must have said bad things about me whenever she met with the other women again. Mrs. Bean probably said negative things too. At least Mrs. Deanwood was nice. She’s invited me to her home. I might take her up on that offer. It’s not exactly fun to stare at a wall all day. It’d be nice to explore a bit.”
Carolyn thought for a moment. As much as she enjoyed taking Hazel out on Thursdays, she knew that she couldn’t keep Hazel stranded much longer. “I can see about getting those car parts on Saturday maybe. Get that car running for you.”
“And I’m going with you to get those parts, right?” Hazel asked.
“Yeah. I’ll talk to Elmer tomorrow to be sure we’re good to go. If we are, I can come around your place late Saturday morning.”
“Sounds good.”
“All right. I’ll have the car fixed in a day or two once I get what I need.”
“There’s no hurry. I see how busy you are, so you can just come over to work on it whenever you have time. I have plenty of tea…”
Carolyn smiled. “I like tea.”
“All right,” Hazel smiled in return.
The horse nudged Carolyn on the back of her shoulder. She beamed while she gently stroked his mane. “He hates it when I don’t pay him enough attention. Such a rascal.”
“Have you had him since he was a baby?”
“Thereabouts. Somebody left him at Elmer’s place for anybody to take in. So, I did. Thompson tried to make me get rid of him. I stood my ground for once. I think that’s the only time I’ve ever got what I wanted. I’ve always liked horses. I had one as a girl.”
“The only time I’ve ever got what I wanted.” Hazel’s heart cracked when she heard that. She wasn’t sure what it meant, but she knew enough from the tone in Carolyn’s voice. Somewhat timidly, Hazel went over to the horse. She reached out and cautiously ran her hand down the horse’s side. She didn’t leap back when the horse brushed her neck.
“I guess horses aren’t so bad,” Hazel faintly spoke. “Although, I’m still not ready to ride him. Maybe in a few weeks. If you still don’t mind me coming here to help out. I’d understand if you feel like we’re square after you finish my car and all that, but I’d really like to stay and help anyway.”
“You’re always welcome,” Carolyn assured her.
“Thank you. You’re always welcome to come by my farm.”
“Just let me know if anything else needs mending and I’ll come.”
“It is a very old farm. I’m sure something else will break down eventually.”
Hazel would be sure of it.
*-*-*-*
On Friday, Carolyn dropped by the general store to speak with Elmer about the parts. He confirmed that they were ready. She spent the rest of her day going about her chores, managing to suppress her thoughts about a certain woman. It was no easy task, especially when Carolyn knew she was just one night away from seeing her again.
Hazel spent the day wandering her property, trying to tell herself that she needed to stop thinking about Mrs. Carolyn Jennings. She was practically the only thing Hazel could think about. She felt disturbed for being so obsessive about another human being. This is wrong, Hazel, she thought to herself. She still couldn’t change it.
Carolyn’s truck arrived late Saturday morning, as Carolyn had said. Hazel was ready for the occasion. She bounded down the steps and to the passenger’s side with vigor. She felt like embracing Carolyn when she saw her. Instead, she awkwardly waved.
“Good morning,” Hazel said.
Carolyn waved back. “G’morning.”
“Shall we?” Hazel asked.
“You bet,” Carolyn brightly replied.
They began the hour-long drive to meet the man outside of town. Carolyn was all business. “I’ll let you know h
ow much those parts are really worth when we see them. He likes trying to squeeze as much out of people as he can, I hear.”
“That’d be swell. By the way, I’ve wondered something. How do you know so much about cars and parts?” Hazel inquired.
“I had four brothers growing up. We learned how to work instead of going to school for too long. Farming. Carpentry. Machines. Once cars came to Debarr, I started fiddling with them. The same way I’d fiddle with machines when my brothers were around. Learned from there.”
“Four brothers? Where are they now?”
“Dead,” Carolyn harshly snapped.
“I’m sorry,” Hazel whispered.
Carolyn whispered in return. “No, I’m sorry. I still get upset about them is all.”
“When did it happen?”
“I was a girl. Lost my two oldest brothers to the first war. My other older brother and my kid brother died from that flu. I had it too. I don’t know why I lived when they didn’t.”
Carolyn swallowed her pain. She knew the term survivor’s guilt far too well. She lived through an epidemic and a devastating tornado. That didn’t seem right. She sometimes wished that she could have died while her family lived. After all, she was the sinner. Not them.
“That’s awful. I’m so sorry,” Hazel murmured. “I can’t fathom what that was like. If I lost my sister, I don’t know what I would do. It’s hard enough being halfway across the country, but at least I can write her.”
“You must miss her,” Carolyn figured.
“All the time. My brother-in-law and nieces too. I have two nieces. They’re wonderful girls. I’ve always been jealous of Sally—my sister—for that. She fell in love with Orville very young. They married even though my family didn’t approve. They have the storybook life. I want that. A happily ever after.”
This confused Carolyn. She knew Hazel was engaged. The ring on her finger was proof. Yet, she implied that a happy ending wasn’t in her future. Carolyn began to wonder if Hazel felt the same way about Eugene that she did about Thompson. Yet, Carolyn knew to leave the topic alone.
“I like storybooks. Fairy tales and nursery rhymes. They’re the only books I’ve got,” Carolyn said.
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