Speak No Evil

by Liana Gardner

  “Yes, baby.”

  “Are you sure people are gonna want to hear me?” What if they didn’t like me?

  “Do you remember the other day when we talked about what a calling is?”

  I kicked my feet back and forth, watching the sparkles blur with the motion. “Yeah. You said it was something God gave you a talent for because he wanted you to share it.”

  “The first time I held you in my arms, you were the joyous song in my heart—my little Melody. God’s spirit told me then you were special and had a gift. It’s time for you to share it with more than Daddy and me.”

  I smiled. I liked it when Mama told me stories about when I was born and how I made the family complete.

  “Don’t dawdle, Melody. You don’t want to be late.”

  Oh yeah. I finished and stood on tiptoes to get a squirt of liquid soap for my hands. After I washed my hands in the cold water, Mama and I went back into the church.

  Daddy motioned us to the front row. “When it’s time, the pastor will call us to join him.” He pulled me on to his lap. “Are you ready?”

  I snuggled against his chest and nodded.

  “You’re going to do fine.”

  “I’m not scared, Daddy.” Well ... I held my thumb and forefinger together so they almost touched. “Only this little.”

  He hugged me and whispered in my ear. “They’ll think an angel has come down from heaven to sing for them.”

  The church filled behind us and Pastor Wolfson stood in front to start the service. I couldn’t pay attention to the sermon because I was listening for him to call us up to sing. And every time he waved his hand through the air, I watched his black finger. The pastor read the passage from the Bible about Jesus rising from the dead.

  “This concludes our scripture reading for today. Now it’s time for us to be blessed by the musical ministry of the Fisher family.”

  I squeaked as I hopped off Daddy’s lap and hurried to stand next to Pastor Wolfson. Daddy pulled out his guitar and put the strap over his head. Mama sat behind the keyboard.

  I faced the congregation. The church was full, and a few folks stood in the back because there weren’t any more seats. I shot a frightened glance at Daddy and he smiled at me.

  Something about Daddy’s smile always made me feel like nothing could go wrong. He was there with me and nothing bad could happen. When I woke in the middle of the night with a nightmare, Mama would soothe me, but one smile from Daddy and all the monsters disappeared.

  He raised his eyebrows and I nodded. Pastor Wolfson switched on the microphone and handed it to me. I took it carefully, making sure not to let my fingers brush his.

  Daddy strummed the opening notes. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and sang.

  Amazing grace. How sweet the sound

  That saved a wretch like me.

  I once was lost, but now am found,

  Was blind, but now I see.

  When I opened my eyes, Uncle Harlan sat in the second row with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Was I singing bad? My breath hitched in my throat.

  'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

  And grace my fears relieved.

  How precious did that grace appear

  The hour I first believed.

  “Amen.” A lady at the back of the church stood and raised her arms in the air. “Praise Jesus.”

  She smiled at me and I felt better.

  Through many dangers, toils and snares

  I have already come;

  'Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far

  And grace will lead me home.

  During the musical interlude, Mama played on the piano, Brother Ferrell ran to the serpent cases, opened one, and pulled out a rattler. He held it with two hands over his head and bounced with the beat of the music.

  The Lord has promised good to me

  His word my hope secures;

  He will my shield and portion be,

  As long as life endures.

  Several other members of the congregation hurried to the front and took up serpents. Brother Ferrell put his snake on the ground and danced before it. Pastor Wolfson swayed through those who were handling, waving his hands in the air.

  I couldn’t help watching his hands.

  His black finger broke off and sailed through the air. Pastor Wolfson’s mouth popped open and he half dove toward it but couldn’t catch it.

  It hit the floor and rolled toward me.

  My heart pounded. The black finger touched my sparkly white shoe, but I had to keep singing.

  Yea, when this flesh and heart shall fail,

  and mortal life shall cease,

  I shall possess within the veil,

  A life of joy and peace.

  Before I could kick it away, Sister Wolfson stormed the stage and slid on her knees scrabbling at the floor, searching for the finger. The snake on the ground slithered toward Sister Wolfson. She crawled to me, racing against the snake.

  Mama stood and knocked her chair over.

  Sister Wolfson reached the finger first and snatched it up. After standing, she held it over her head and yelled, “Praise Jesus,” over and over. Brother Ferrell chased the serpent and took it up again and twirled off.

  The notes from the piano and guitar died away and I shot a quick look at Mama. Pale, she nodded.

  I closed my eyes and sang the last verse a cappella ... slower and higher than the other verses—like we practiced.

  When we've been there ten thousand years

  Bright shining as the sun,

  We've no less days to sing God’s praise

  Than when we've first begun.

  When I opened my eyes, everyone stood and clapped, except Uncle Harlan, who remained in his seat, arms still folded.

  Handing the microphone to Pastor Wolfson, I wanted to run back to Daddy and Mama, but the pastor put his hand on my shoulder.

  The hand with the missing finger part. I held my breath—I didn’t want the stubby finger touching me. He held his other hand in the air until the clapping stopped and the congregation reseated themselves.

  “We have been blessed. Thank you, Melody, for sharing your gift with us. The Lord has spoken to our hearts through you. Will you share with us again?”

  Eyes wide, I looked at Mama. I didn’t expect them to ask me to sing again. She nodded.

  “Yes, Pastor Wolfson. Thank you.” But I didn’t want him to touch me with his stub again.

  He let go of my shoulder and I scurried across the front to where Daddy knelt next to his guitar case, threw my arms around his neck, and hugged him tightly. He stood while I still clung to him and carried me back to our seats.

  “You did a wonderful job, baby. I’m proud of you.”

  The whispered words tickled my ear and I tightened my hug.

  When the service was over, we stood on the path and I held Daddy’s hand tight as people came to thank us for the music. Uncle Harlan paced on the grass, head down and arms tightly crossed against his chest. Aunt Ruth had to jump out of his way because he nearly ran into her. My cousins stood next to the trees lining the parking area.

  Pastor Wolfson joined us and thanked us again for providing the music for the service.

  “Did you see what I rescued?” Sister Wolfson joined him and held up the black finger.

  Pastor Wolfson winced. “Why don’t you throw the dead finger out, sweetheart?”

  She shook her head. “I want to keep it.”

  “Now, why would you want to keep a thing like that?” Pastor Wolfson’s brow furrowed.

  Her eyes gleamed. “So when you die, I can still have a piece of you.”

  A dead piece of him. I’d never forget the crusty black thing touching my shoe.

  After everyone else had moved on to the parking area, Brother Hill held his hand out to Daddy. “Can’t tell you how much I enjoyed the music, Will. Your little girl has some pipes.”

  Pipes? I didn’t have any pipes.

  Daddy shook
his hand. “Thank you, Thomas. She’s been singing like a songbird from the time she could talk. We thought we should share.”

  “I turned my old shed into a recording studio. How about putting together a track of Melody singing?”

  I rocked on my heels and twisted back and forth to create a swirly hole in the path. Mama put her arm on my shoulder and pulled me to her side.

  “Sounds like a great idea.”

  Brother Hill pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to Daddy. “Give me a call next week and we’ll get something set up.”

  As Brother Hill walked away, Uncle Harlan stormed toward Mama with a huge frown. “What is the meaning of this travesty, Allison?”

  Mama pulled me closer to her. “What travesty, Harlan? We had an uplifting Easter service. Nothing wrong happened.”

  Nothing happened, except the pastor’s finger flying across the stage in the middle of our song. But I didn’t say anything because Mama already looked upset.

  Uncle Harlan’s face turned dark red as a turkey wattle and a big vein stood out on his forehead. “‘Thou shalt have no other gods before me. Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth.’”

  Mama’s nails bit into my shoulder and I wriggled to loosen her grip.

  “And what does the passage from Exodus have to do with today?”

  Uncle Harlan leaned closer to Mama. Face-to-face, they looked more like complete opposites than brother and sister. He was as dark as coal and she as light as the sun. Not only in looks but the way they behaved, too. Mama was always happy at home. Uncle Harlan rarely cracked a smile outside of church.

  He shook as he spoke. “I will not allow my sister to whore out her daughter in the name of the Lord.”

  Daddy put his arm between Mama and Uncle Harlan and grabbed Uncle Harlan’s shoulder. “Melody, go stand by your cousins.”

  As I raced off, Daddy told Uncle Harlan he had crossed the line. Ooh, “crossed the line” meant Daddy didn’t like what Uncle Harlan said.

  When I reached Aunt Ruth, Jeb sneered at me and Samuel stuck out his tongue. I showed him my tongue back and turned to watch Daddy and Mama.

  Daddy had marched Uncle Harlan back a few steps and stood between him and Mama. He kept his hand on Uncle Harlan’s shoulder. I couldn’t hear what Daddy was saying, but he didn’t look happy.

  A butterfly flew past and landed on a flower between the trees. I put my arms out to the side to be wings. What would it feel like to be a butterfly? I couldn’t fly, but I could twirl. I spun and my skirt flew out. I spun faster, watching my skirt swirl. I twirled so fast my hair flew like my skirt.

  “Melody Rose.” Mama’s tone was sharp, so I stopped spinning.

  “Coming, Mama.” I took a step, but the world kept spinning and I nearly fell over. I took a couple of steps before Mama picked me up and carried me to the car.

  She had mad lines on her forehead.

  “Did I do something wrong, Mama?”

  She kissed me on the cheek and put me down. “No. You did a beautiful job singing, Melody. I’m upset with Uncle Harlan.”

  She opened the back door and I crawled into my booster seat and buckled in.

  Daddy put his guitar in the trunk then started the car. He looked past me as he reversed, faced front, and pulled out of the parking lot with a spurt of dirt billowing behind us.

  “Mama and I decided we’d stay home for Easter dinner today instead of going to Uncle Harlan’s and Aunt Ruth’s like we usually do.”

  Good. I didn’t want to see my stinky cousins anyway. All they did was pick on me when everyone’s back was turned.

  “What do you say to peanut butter sandwiches and lemonade out on the porch?”

  “Yay. Peanut butter is my favorite.”

  Mama sniffed and put her hand against her cheek while her shoulders shook.

  She was crying? I leaned forward and stretched my fingers as far as I could to touch her shoulder. “Don’t cry, Mama. We don’t have to have peanut butter.”

  She turned and touched my hand, her hand wet with tears. “I’m not crying about peanut butter. Mama’s upset right now. I’ll be better in a few moments.”

  As soon as we reached home, Mama hurried into the house and disappeared into her and Daddy’s room. Daddy took me into the kitchen and pulled the step stool out.

  “How’d you like to help me make the sandwiches?”

  I climbed the steps and leaned against the counter. “Is Mama gonna be okay?”

  He smoothed my hair. “She’ll be fine. She just needs a little time away from Uncle Harlan.”

  I grabbed the butter knife and pulled a glob of peanut butter out of the jar. “Why didn’t Uncle Harlan like my song?”

  His cheeks puffed out as he exhaled. “Uncle Harlan has some different ideas about how to give glory to God. But no matter what Uncle Harlan says, God was very happy with the way you sang for Him today.”

  I spread the peanut butter on a slice of bread. “It was fun. I liked singing for everybody. It made me bubbly.”

  Daddy made tickle hands. “Did it tickle you inside?”

  I shrieked and hopped off the stool. I ran straight into Mama as she walked into the kitchen.

  “Whoa.” She hugged me and removed the peanut butter knife from my hand. “What’s going on here? I thought you were making sandwiches.”

  “Daddy turned into the tickle monster.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Will, how many times have I told you? The tickle monster doesn’t belong in the kitchen.”

  Daddy grabbed Mama’s waist and spun her around. “The tickle monster doesn’t follow rules.” He tickled Mama.

  “Will.” Mama laughed.

  He spun her to face him and kissed her. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  She smiled.

  “My love for you is bigger than the oceans, longer than the life of the trees, higher than the eagle soars. I love you to the stars and back and will carry my love for you beyond death. I love you more than life itself.”

  Chapter Eight

  Spring 2015 – Melody, age 16

  Melody crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair.

  Sitting next to her, Mrs. Langdon rummaged through her purse. “I could have sworn I put those pamphlets in here.” She glanced at Melody. “You know. The ones I showed you on new ways to make kids talk. I thought your doc might be interested.”

  Melody bit her lip. Her gaze met Lily’s, who made a big show of crossing her eyes.

  Mrs. Langdon pulled out a package of cough drops, a miniature umbrella, and a pair of wooly socks. “Now how did these get in here? I’ve been lookin’ all over the place for them.” She patted Melody on the arm. “I use them to keep my feet warm at night. You’ll know what I mean when you get to be my age.”

  Melody edged her arm away.

  Lily caught her attention and cocked her head toward Dr. Kane’s office door.

  She popped out of her chair and had her hand on the handle before Mrs. Langdon looked up and saw she had moved.

  “The doctor will see you now, Melody.” Lily failed to keep a straight face.

  Mrs. Langdon stood and scooped everything back into her purse, but before she could take a step toward the door, Melody closed it with a smile.

  After locking the door, she pulled the music player out of her pocket and went to sit on the couch. Dr. Kane tapped away on his laptop, brow furrowed as he peered through his glasses. The keys clacked in rapid-fire succession as his fingers flew over the surface. He clicked the mouse, closed the laptop lid, and stood.

  He pulled his glasses off and tucked them into the pocket of his royal-blue collared shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and showed off the beginning of a tan. The color of his shirt brought out the color of his eyes. His windswept brown hair curled at the collar and a three-day stubble framed his cute smile.

  Melody turned
the player on and scrolled through the songs.

  When he sat, he tapped the end of the pen against his notepad in a staccato beat. “I think it’s time we change things up a bit.” He stroked his stubble. “We’ve been listening to music and while I think we’ve made some progress, it’s time to take things up a notch.”

  Melody’s knee bounced rapidly and she twisted her fingers together.

  “Don’t get all uptight. I haven’t led you astray yet, have I?”

  Taking a deep breath, her agitation slowed.

  “Better. We’re not going to do anything difficult. I think it’s time for us to talk about things from your past. I’ll talk and you correct me if I get anything wrong.” He pulled her file from the side table onto his lap and opened it. “For instance, I see here you were born January 17, 1999, to Will and Allison Fisher.”

  He glanced at her. “See? Nothing to be afraid of.”

  Melody pressed the navigation menu on the player.

  He flipped the page. “You grew up in the mountains. No wonder you like nature so much.”

  She scrolled to another song while he scribbled a note.

  “Your father was a member of the wolf clan and involved in the Cherokee community.”

  After hitting stop, Melody selected another song.

  “Ah, here is an interesting tidbit. You attended a snake-handling church with your parents before—”

  She stiffened and backed out to the upper-level menu to select a different category.

  “You keep fiddling with your music player. Are you still agitated? Why don’t you put your current song on the speakers, lean back, close your eyes, and listen?”

  Her fingers froze and she shot him a look. Her knee resumed its agitated bouncing. The click sounded extra loud as she connected the speaker cable to the player. Finger trembling as it hovered over the button, she pressed play with a deep breath.

  The intro filled the room as she wilted against the couch back and closed her eyes.

  God bless and protect

  For these days will not last

  They’re all I have

  And they grow up fast

  I need You with them

  Both day and night

  When they’re alone in the dark