Nazareth's Song (8 page)

Horace Mills’s fingers came to his lips as though accustomed to nursing a cigar. He never made eye contact with Jeb.

“Can you tell if they want me or not?” asked Jeb.

“Trust in God,” said Will Honeysack. He looked more worried about Gracie than Jeb right now.

While the men disbursed to collect their kith and kin, Horace said so no one else could hear, “I hope you know I keep close tabs on these matters. I don’t throw my money away on lost causes.”

Jeb watched him meet up with his wife and Winona. Winona smiled better than her daddy.

6

T
he old Long house had a strange kind of Saturday pall. The week had flown past, each day another day closer to Gracie’s eventual departure. While the minister still fluctuated on his departure date, he reminded Jeb daily of his pending obligation.

Jeb studied for the sermon he would preach the Sunday after tomorrow. The week had passed without too much gossip reaching his ears. But even as he felt the calm tide of his coming responsibility settling into place, Angel had not stopped rattling his cage over how everyone in town knew him to be something other than a man of the cloth. Her words followed on his heels like the scent of skunk.

With only one more week left to prepare, the afternoon crept over him like an invasion of grasshoppers silently eating away the day. Tomorrow afternoon, he and Gracie would pore over his message and remove the weak spots. But it seemed to Jeb the whole sermon buckled in the middle like the old bridge over Millwood Creek. He gave up and went inside.

The Foley bunch had invited Willie to a picture show downtown, leaving Ida May to pout alone on the front porch. Angel waited at the kitchen entry, holding her most recent letter from Little Rock. Jeb finally said, “Letter from Aunt Kate?”

“Momma’s not well.”

“At least she finally told you, Angel.”

“She’s in the nervous hospital. Wonder why they call it that. Like we’s all going to believe they’s all these nervous people sitting around waiting to do somethin’ like get called up to sing in church or some such. Instead, that’s where they put a body whose house don’t go all the way to the roof, if you catch my drift. Aunt Kate says Momma mentioned my name not long ago and that
encouraged
her. Mentioned my name? What’s that supposed to mean anyway, like she just happened to think about me? Besides, this just proves Aunt Kate’s not been telling me everything. If I was there, I’d give her a piece of my mind.”

“That’d be punishment enough.” Jeb escaped to his room, only to have Angel follow.

“Who are you to poke fun, anyway? Somebody’s got to get sick or die to make space for you.”

“You act like I don’t have plans for the future, Angel, like I’m still drifting around. But I got big plans. Jeb Nubey’s moving up in the world. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re jealous.”

“Jealous? That’s a big laugh. You’re still nothing but a stray cat hanging on the screen door of life, Jeb Nubey! Last time I checked, nobody’s jealous of strays.”

Anxious to change the subject, Jeb splashed some cologne he’d splurged on at the Woolworth’s onto his hands and then his neck. “You’re not dragging me into another of your fights, Biggest. I got better fish to fry.”

She sniffed. “That would explain the smell. I’ve smelt cow patties less potent. What’s that you’re slapping on, anyway?”

“I’ll have you know this men’s smellum is sold even in Hot Springs. You don’t know anything about what the upper crust is using, so you may as well give up trying.”

“Upper crust, hah! The day you turn into upper crust, is the day Wolvertons’ hogs sprout wings.”

“I don’t expect you to elevate your thinking just because things are changing for the better for me.” He returned to the kitchen and gathered up his sermon notes.

“Life don’t have no elevators, Jeb Nubey; I have news for you.” Angel tossed aside her letter and returned to the stove. “If we hear from Daddy, Aunt Kate says I should tell him to send money. Like I’m going to hear from Daddy! Seems like ever since Uncle Wayne left, money’s all Aunt Kate ever talks about.”

“I guess if you got it, you don’t think about it.” Jeb put away his Bible and picked up a copy of Augustine’s writings. It had been in a stack of books Fern had given to Gracie to give to Jeb when his internship commenced.

“If I were taking care of Momma, she’d be well.”

“Did your Aunt Kate ask you to come?” Before Jeb could find his place again in the book, Angel said, “I think I should quit school and get a job. If I could get my own place, Momma could live with me. ”

“Girls like you can’t find jobs no better than cleaning houses. You want to do that the rest of your life, then quit school!”

“Maybe I should and maybe I will!”

“You always get like this when you want something.”

“I see how you look sometimes if we get into a fight or don’t seem to have enough food to go around at supper. I know when I’m not wanted.”

“I saw you eyeing that dress in the Woolworth’s. This is a new dress fight, ain’t it?”

“You don’t hear nothing that I say. Momma’s sick because she don’t have real care, not the kind that I can give.”

“There you go again, acting like you’re going to haul off and leave. Funny how it always happens after Woolworth’s opens a new box of goods.”

“You think I’m talking about dresses? You lost your mind or something?”

“Maybe I’m not the best provider. But I’ve seen people in worse situations than us. We got this roof over our head. No one’s making us live out of a cardboard box.”

Angel started pacing and shaking her head.

“I’ve been looking for extra work, in case you hadn’t noticed. One of these days that lumbermill’s going to need another hand again, and I’ve got my name in for it. All the other mills have gone out because no one is building right now. But everybody needs barrels, and now, due to Hayes Jernigan’s know-how, we got the best stave mill between here and Texas. Besides all that, I’ll soon have some income as the new preacher. Least I should.” He stopped to consider the matter. “Come to think of it, maybe I need to bring that up with Gracie.” He came back to his original thought, let out a breath, and said, “Keep your mind on school, Angel, and stop worrying about how you look all the time.”

“Are we talking about me or you?”

Jeb shrugged. Angel was complicated. Like Fern. “Can we talk about dinner?”

Jeb slaughtered a rabbit out in the woods away from Ida May’s sight. The critter squealed like a girl and then fell limp over his hand. He skinned it and left the pelt to dry on a stump while Angel dressed and cut up the rabbit and stewed it an hour before adding the soup. By nightfall, the stew and hot bread were ready for supper just as Jeb turned on
The Grand Old Opry
.

The headlights of the Foleys’ DeSoto shone through the trees as the car rattled up near the front porch. Willie leaped out of the car and nearly fell onto the stone steps before running across the porch and into the living room.

“They’s a riot downtown, Jeb!”

Jeb turned off the radio. “Anyone hurt? You all right, Willie Boy?”

Willie could not get his breath. Mrs. Foley eased onto the front porch holding her handbag against her thin stomach. She called out to Jeb, “We’re all fine, Reverend. But someone’s goin’ to get hurt. They set fire to a likeness of Banker Mills. Not a good likeness, neither, come to think of it. Just some straw man with a sign around its neck that said ‘Rich Old Mills.’ Wonder who’d do such a thing? It’s looking bad down there; talk goin’ around like they’s goin’ to set fire to downtown. I hope they don’t burn down Honeysack’s place. Supposed to be a good sale tomorrow on quiltin’ goods.”

Jeb thanked Mrs. Foley for dropping Willie by and then jerked on his boots.

“You’re going downtown, Jeb? Now?” Angel held a pan of corn bread with two stained mitts.

“Somebody’s going to get hurt. It’s best I go see about things.”

Willie tried to follow him back out the front door.

“Not you, Willie Boy! Back inside with you. Your sister’s got supper fixed. You stay behind, keep an eye on the girls, and have your dinner.”

“Beck Hopper said something like this might happen,” said Angel.

Jeb’s eyes darted to meet Angel’s. She started to turn away, but before she could, Jeb said, “Things like that are best not kept a secret, Angel.” Jeb did not like the fact she had been hanging around with the Hopper boy anyway. His daddy was getting a bad reputation of late for starting fights.

“He didn’t say exactly, just that people was tired of seeing their kids go hungry, and someone was going to do something about it. Beck don’t see his daddy as mean like the rest of us do. Kind of like he’s blind to his daddy’s ways. I kind of see his side of it.”

Angel called Ida May to the table and sent Willie to wash up. She wrapped two pieces of corn bread in a napkin and handed them to Jeb. “Eat these on the way and we’ll save stew for later.”

Even before the truck could reach the main street of downtown Nazareth, the intensity of the fire could be seen—red and billowing black smoke from one of the buildings, although Jeb was not certain about what building had caught fire. Several screaming women with babies or older children in tow ran down the street away from the mob of men lining Front Street. Jeb slowed and parked several blocks down the street to keep the Ford away from the fire.

One building on Waddle had been torched. Several men who had been in the middle of a shave and haircut at Lincoln’s Barbershop waited bewildered on the corner of Waddle and Front, their bodies still swathed in the barber’s white capes. The barber, Hal Lincoln, tried to pass out buckets of water to the patrons to help him douse the front of his shop. Too stunned, the men watched mesmerized as the flames reached the old warehouse next to the barbershop.

Tom Plummer ran past Jeb’s truck.

“Tom, has the whole town gone crazy?” Jeb opened the truck door.

“Don’t know how things was started. Some say Asa Hopper riled up the bunch of jobless men living down by the railroad tracks, but I can’t say as I know for sure. Asa’s two oldest boys has set fire to one of the buildings, but they’s fifty or more men out in front of the bank. I heard one say they were going to break into Will Honeysack’s store and take all of the food. Will don’t deserve that kind of bi’ness at all.” Tom ran off.

Jeb left the truck parked on the side of the road and ran down Front Street toward Will’s grocery store.

In the middle of Front Street, Asa Hopper swung a lantern. He shouted Horace Mills’s name. Some of the men with him shouted too and threw fists into the air. One hurled a rock at the bank; it hit the brick and fell to the walk. The blinds had been pulled down on all the bank windows. Jeb figured Mills and his staff might have slipped out the back way.

Inside Honeysack’s Grocery, Freda and Will thrust an iron bar across the inside of the doors. Jeb tapped on the window and Freda shrieked. He mouthed instructions telling them both to meet him at the back door.

A Coke bottle hit the walk and shattered next to Jeb’s feet. Dolittle’s dairy truck had been left in front of Honeysack’s store. For the time being, the milk truck seemed protection enough. Jeb ran between the truck and store and into the alley. Will met him at the rear exit.

“Hurry, come inside before you get clubbed,” said Will.

Freda kept pacing behind the display of canned chili while their clerk, Val, locked up the day’s cash in a safe in the back storage room.

“They’re burning down the whole town, Will!” Val’s voice quivered. “This’ll give Nazareth a black eye for shore!”

Deputy Maynard ran past the storefront and then disappeared behind the milk truck. A pistol shot rang out in the street, and Freda screamed and escaped into the storage room.

“Maynard’s shot off his gun, Freda! Nobody’s firing back. Just a cop-firing-in-the-air kind of thing, you know, to try and scare off the old boys.” Will cracked open the storage room door. Val crouched under a table wearing a World War I soldier’s helmet. “Val, you all right?”

“You’d better take cover, Will!” Val had dragged a heavy sack under the table with him and made several attempts to build a barricade with twenty pounds of chicken feed.

“What if they set fire to our place, Reverend Jeb?” Freda was near hysteria.

“I think I should take her home, Reverend,” said Will. “Not going to do any business around here anyway.”

Jeb nodded. “The barbershop appears to be the next to go. They could be working their way up Waddle. Any guess as to what set them off?”

“Asa Hopper, is all I know. A big lot of men is mad about losing their land. Hopper’s family bought that land sometime back around the middle of the last century. Says he’ll not lose it now after all this time. They need a body to blame, I reckon, for this Depression.” Will pulled a string on the last light to extinguish it. “But if it’s food they want, I’d be surprised if they burned my place. Coming in and taking what they want might be the next thing on their minds.”

“Let’s get Freda and Val out to your Ford, Will. No use taking a beating over canned beans. Maybe if you get on out of here and let them have it, they’ll not set fire to your place.” Jeb coaxed Freda out of the storage room. A loud explosion outside sent Val reeling out of the room. It sounded like someone had lit a stick of dynamite and tossed it onto Front Street. He crawled over the chicken feed and followed Freda out the back way.

“Can’t let them take from my store without paying, Jeb! It’s the principle,” said Will. He handed the keys to Val. “Please see the missus home, Val, if you will. You’re welcome to stay on our couch tonight. Freda will see you get fed.”

Freda argued with Will, but finally gave up and headed for the Ford. “Reverend, you keep an eye on my Will.”

Jeb said, “If you could take a drive past my place to check on the Welby youngens, I’d appreciate it, Val.” He waited for Val to take Freda out of earshot before he said, “Didn’t want your wife to know, Will, but that mob is on its way here. Let’s you and me slip out the back.”

Val gave Jeb and Will a nervous wave and drove with Freda down the alley and away from the mob. He still wore the green helmet of the American Expeditionary Force. World War I had been over for years.