Eden Hill (30 page)

He was looking forward to fishing, as the day was a bit cooler and overcast, and several days of rain were expected
the coming week. He usually fished with Welby, but he would enjoy spending some time with the pastor. He was also looking forward to an afternoon away. As much as he loved Mavine, sometimes he just needed to get out of the house.

Cornelius oiled up his spinning reel and dug though their tiny closet in the back of the trailer until he found the tackle box, right next to his old baseball glove and tennis racket. He opened the latch and glanced over the contents, including his license
 
—good through September. The fishing outfit brought back memories; it had been a birthday gift from JoAnn before they married. He’d only gotten to use it once, back when he was in business college. The future looked so promising then, and with luck, it was looking promising again. A wife, a daughter, and another child on the way? He’d gotten better than he deserved. Far better.

The lake was lovely. The water was up from the recent rains, but the limbs from the submerged trees were still showing. Reverend Caudill was already there with Arlie’s truck and boat, wearing a pair of overalls that were a bit large on him, probably also borrowed from Arlie. The pastor was barefoot with his pants legs rolled up, launching the small craft into the lake. Cornelius had never seen the pastor without a suit and tie. Was that even legal?

“So glad you could make it, and so good to see you and JoAnn in church today.”

“Thanks, Reverend. We’re really enjoying it there.”

The pastor beamed. “Good, good! Can you give me a hand with this?”

Whatever skills Reverend Caudill had, seamanship was not among them. Cornelius helped him get the boat off the trailer and into the water without tearing off the outboard motor, then laid his tackle box and fishing rod into the bottom. They tied the boat to the trailer to keep it from floating away and took a bucket of minnows from the back of the truck.

Reverend Caudill also had a landing net, a can of worms, and a bag of sandwiches. “Grover wanted us to have this,” he said. “Oh, here’s our other companion for the afternoon.”

Virgil Osgood had driven up beside Arlie’s truck, looking quite puzzled.

“Good afternoon, Virgil! Glad you could join us! Hope you and your family had a wonderful dinner!”

He rolled the window down. “Uh, is Arlie here?”

“Nope.” The minister retrieved a couple of items from the truck. “But I borrowed his boat.”

Suddenly reality struck Cornelius. He’d been had. Again. But unlike the rep from Zipco, the pastor seemed to have his best interests in mind.

“Well.” Reverend Caudill put his socks and shoes back on. “Get in. We’re going fishing.”

Virgil retrieved his tackle from the back of his car, together with a coffee can of night crawlers, then took the seat at the rear of the boat. Cornelius sat in front, and Reverend Caudill parked himself in the middle.

Virgil started the outboard motor, and Reverend Caudill
directed them to Cumber’s Creek, the very spot where Arlie had told them to go. The dead tree was right where he said it was, and Virgil dropped the anchor over the side.

Neither Virgil nor Cornelius spoke much. On the other hand, Reverend Caudill was unusually talkative. “Arlie says that the crappie and white bass are down deep, and you’ll do well with a minnow and a big sinker on your line. The bluegill are usually in the shallower water this time of day, while catfish like it on the bottom. Carp are likely to be most anywhere. If you’re lucky, you might even hook a largemouth on one of the night crawlers Virgil brought.”

The pastor was clearly in charge. At his direction, Virgil and Cornelius baited their hooks with the tiny fish and dropped them over the side. Reverend Caudill had a short pole with some kind of shiny thing on the end of his line, which he also placed in the lake.

“You know, when Jesus needed time to think, he got in a boat and went out on the lake. And it was hard for him sometimes. The pressure and stress must have been incredible. But something about being out on the water did him good. Even when the seas were rough, he could calm them. It gave him peace. Virgil, I think you’ve got a bite.”

Virgil’s bobber was indeed bobbing, and he pulled back and reeled in a small but lively crappie.

“Good work, Virgil!” He took the fish and carefully inserted the stringer, fastening it to the oarlock and gently laying it in the water.

Cornelius’s float had vanished from sight and the line was
moving, so he hauled back on the rod, hooking the hapless crappie. It was pan-size.

“Well, there’s a keeper to take home to JoAnn. Hold it up so we can see it.”

Cornelius lifted the flapping fish into full view.

“Nice one.” It was Virgil commenting this time.

“Jesus enjoyed hanging around fishermen.” Reverend Caudill tinkered with his reel, pulling out some backlash.

The pastor had an agenda, and Cornelius was part of it. So was Virgil, by the look of the fellow at the other end of the boat. But he’d heard enough from the reverend in the middle to know the man deserved listening to.

“They were good folk. Ambitious, hardworking people. He picked some men from other walks of life as his disciples, as well. And they didn’t always get along; they’d sometimes argue among themselves. Another one, Cornelius?”

He pulled back on the pole and lifted a small bluegill out of the murky water. “I suppose you’re right.”

“And they had some things in common, just like you. The same goal, to make good lives for yourselves and your families.” He looked at the bluegill and motioned for Cornelius to toss it back in.

Virgil looked puzzled. “So what are you saying, Reverend? What’s your point?”

“I invited you both here to fish, but also to try to keep you from destroying each other. You need to learn to be like the disciples when they were working together rather than trying to see who’s the greatest. Watch your line there, Virgil.”

Virgil was about to say something, but his rod was bending, and he pulled in another nice crappie.

“Good fish, Virgil.” Cornelius gave the compliment this time. “But, Reverend, you said yourself that the disciples were hardworking folks. Don’t I need to make a living for my family?”

“Yes, I did. There’s nothing wrong with ambition, but sometimes it gets out of hand. And can we agree it has gotten out of hand?”

The Zipco owner looked at the pastor. “I’m just following the Zipco manual. I was always taught to do things by the book.”

“That’s fine, but there’s a more important book to follow.” He pointed at a New Testament in his shirt pocket. “Why don’t you both try using this one instead? Do unto others . . .”

Virgil baited his empty hook, this time with a chubby night crawler. “And how am I supposed to make my living if I don’t
 
—compete?”

Cornelius let out a yell. Something had taken his bait and run with it, bending his rod nearly double.

Virgil reached for the landing net. “Tighten up the drag and play him! I’ll be ready.” Cornelius played the fish as it tried to go under the boat, finally bringing it to the surface flipping and fighting. Virgil slipped the net under the largemouth and brought him aboard.

“Hoo-wee, look at the size of that fish! Must go at least five pounds!” Cornelius freed the creature from the net and held it aloft.

Reverend Caudill chuckled. “Gentlemen, see what
happens when you work together? Neither of you would have been able to land that fish alone. That’s what I’m saying. Nobody needs to put anybody out of business. There’s plenty to go around, like when Jesus fed the five thousand. Just do your job well, and stop trying to harm each other. That’s not the way Jesus would do it. Virgil, has something got your night crawler?”

Virgil reared back and set the hook. After much thrashing and commotion, Cornelius was able to get the net underneath, and soon another largemouth was aboard.

“Thanks, Cornelius. It’s a beauty.”

Reverend Caudill watched the exchange as more fish were hauled into the boat. Soon the stringer was full, and he found a second, which was soon also filled. The day was everything he’d hoped it would be. He’d prayed hard for this afternoon, and he’d been rewarded. And the fish were biting like none of them had seen before; surely that was God’s gift and with it his answer.

Soon Virgil and Cornelius were talking about their families, their hobbies, and how hard it was to remove the oil filter on a Plymouth six-cylinder. Common goals, common interests. Virgil’s brother had gone to school with Cornelius’s uncle, the young man’s grandfather had been a very good friend of Mr. H. C. Osgood, and they both liked Patsy Cline and had mourned her recent passing.

And the fish kept coming. When they were finished, they
counted ten on two stringers, including the two large largemouth bass, and one that got away. Virgil said it would have gone ten pounds
 
—easy.

They also agreed to end the price war and go back to sensible rates for gasoline: thirty-two cents a gallon for regular and, for Cornelius, thirty-four cents for premium. They would also get together for dinner sometime in the next several weeks, and would all be at the church cookout next Saturday.

Soon the bait and the afternoon were exhausted, and Virgil started the little Mercury motor to head back to the truck. “Reverend, it just occurred to me that you haven’t caught a single fish all afternoon. What do you have on the end of that line anyhow?”

Reverend Caudill held the little spinner lure up for both to see. “Arlie gave it to me to use. Said fish couldn’t resist it.” He laughed. “Besides, I was here today to be a fisher of men, like Jesus said. Looks like I caught a boatload!”

C
ORNELIUS STEPPED
into the trailer to a sleepy wife and wide-awake daughter, his catch on a stringer and a spring in his step. Both were thrilled as he related the events of the afternoon. A truce had been called: no, more like a treaty. He actually liked Virgil T. Osgood, and he had at least a chance of keeping his business.

Early that evening, he called Reverend Caudill, first of all to thank him for the fishing outing, and secondly to make an appointment for him and JoAnn to meet together in the pastor’s office.

It was time.

They stayed up late reading: she the letters, over and over
again, and he the Zipco manual. JoAnn smiled and carefully placed the two letters in their respective envelopes for safekeeping. He frowned and threw the Zipco manual in the corner. All three fell happily asleep, filled with hope for the coming days.

Virgil slept late on Monday morning, having been up until eleven o’clock cleaning fish and showing off his largemouth bass to Arlie, who suggested he have it mounted and hung on the wall in his living room. Mavine was none too keen on the idea, arguing instead for her paint-by-number of
The Old Mill
, which she’d finished in April and Virgil had never got around to framing. He promised to buy her a frame the next time he went to Del’s hardware in town. The fish would just have to go on the wall at the service station.

Vee also slept in, claiming he stayed up reading
A Study in Scarlet
, which amazed both his parents. Vee had always enjoyed the Hardy Boys and Tom Swift, but his enthusiasm for Sherlock Holmes was especially gratifying to Mavine. Better that than the smuggled
Wonder Woman
comic he’d gotten from Frank on Sunday and hidden inside his shirt. She’d caught that one.

Mavine had breakfast by herself on Monday morning, the same bacon and eggs as usual, but with a guilty pleasure: a leftover slice of cake that she’d made the night before. It gave her time to think: a quiet house, an empty table.

Thoughts of JoAnn and Cornelius just wouldn’t leave her alone. It had been hard to concentrate on Reverend Caudill’s sermon yesterday, for her eyes were drawn to the young
mother and her husband. Mavine had been teary all during church, but Virgil hadn’t noticed. He’d only been concerned about his fishing outing with Reverend Caudill.

Virgil had told her last night about his trip to the lake and how well it had gone. He’d eaten his dinner with enthusiasm, devoured the dessert, and then wandered off to fillet his crappie. First thing today, he was going back to his old gasoline prices. Didn’t seem quite right to her, but he’d said that the Zipco station was raising their rate as well, so she guessed that it would balance out.

But had he noticed her pain and concern? All he could talk about was that fish, that bass. Then again, maybe she was being selfish. Virgil had been under a lot of stress lately, and maybe she’d been the cause of much of it. If so, hopefully he’d forgive her.

Welby had definitely been right. She felt far better about helping JoAnn and little Suzy than about all the things she’d done to help Virgil be successful. Maybe she’d helped too much, pushed too hard.

Mavine found her mind wandering, and her thoughts settled on the blue dress. She washed her hands, walked over to where the garment was hanging, and stroked the fabric with its smooth, velvety texture. She examined the lace collar, mentally measuring. Yes, it would do.

Reverend Caudill was planning to take the day off, but he’d taken some time off around the Fourth of July and his work
was backing up, so he was in his office at the church. There just might be a baptism the following Sunday, so he had to make sure the freshly painted baptistery was filling properly. He was meeting with the candidates this afternoon at two o’clock, so he’d need to pick up his other suit at Willett’s before then. Next Sunday’s sermon would be a bit different, so it would take extra preparation time. He also had a letter to return, which couldn’t wait any longer, and . . .

The phone rang.

The voice on the other end was an estate lawyer in Quincy. The reading of Madeline Crutcher’s will would be at one o’clock on Wednesday, and Reverend Caudill needed to be there.
Very
important, he said.

The pastor sighed. He was hoping to keep Wednesday afternoon free for pastoral visits and to get ready for prayer meeting, but if indeed it was
very
important, he’d be there.

The attorney gave the address and directions, thanked the clergyman, and hung up.

Well. In addition to everything else, he’d have to referee the reading of the old woman’s will. Some people never quite had the decency to go away. He reached into the desk drawer for his Goody’s and saw a letter he’d avoided for much too long. He pulled it out and read it again, vowing he’d answer it by the end of the week. But first, the headache powder.

Breakfast was Spam and Tang, as usual, but JoAnn had been awakened early by Suzy and had made cinnamon toast: a
special treat. It was a happy morning. Charlie opened the station on Mondays, so Cornelius could come in as late as he pleased.

“JoAnn, we’re raising our prices. This gas war thing has gone on long enough. As soon as I get down there, I’m calling Zipco.”

“No, you’re calling this attorney.” She pointed to the letter. “Neil, there isn’t any more Zipco. We’re on our own now.”

He pondered this. “You’re right. And it’s about time! Let’s do this our own way.”

She smiled and reached out to hold his hands across the table. “Yes, and let’s do it the
right
way!”

Virgil had breakfast on his own, with Mavine very quiet and doing laundry. “I’m off to work, Mavine. I don’t expect much to be going on today, but Welby’s off until Wednesday, so I need to be there.”

“Fine.”

“Are you okay, Mavine?” If he’d learned anything over the last few months, he’d learned that silence from Mavine was not to be ignored.

“Yes. I just feel like we’ve done a terrible thing to Cornelius and JoAnn, and we need to make it right.”

“I suppose we both did. We were focused on doing right by ourselves, but probably didn’t act too neighborly.”

She sat across from him. “Virgil, I’ve pushed you into being something you’re not. I’ve been selfish, wanting things that you simply couldn’t give me. I feel badly for that, too.”

Virgil reached out to take her hands. Not typical for him, but it seemed to be the right thing for his wife. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be the best husband I can be, and the best father. Don’t ever forget that, and please forgive me if I fail you.”

Mavine rose from her chair, rounded the table, and embraced him. “I forgive you, Virgil. And I’m proud of you.”

Virgil received Mavine’s hug; it was what they both needed. And as they separated, he took her hand and kissed her cheek before stepping through the screen door and ambling down the hill, Ticky right behind. The first order of business was to change the pump price and fix the signs. He was pleased to see that the Zipco station had already changed its prices. A few tweaks with a screwdriver, and it was done. Thirty-one point nine cents per gallon for regular. Same as across the street. He breathed a sigh of relief. At least that part of it was over.

He was also pleased to see that Cornelius had a customer
 
—one he didn’t recognize. At the same time, Arlie stopped in at Osgood’s to fill his truck. It seemed Reverend Caudill had neglected to put gas in the tank when he returned it the day before. Virgil gave him five gallons for free as thanks to both Arlie and the pastor.

“What’d you decide to do with that big bass?”

“I put it in Grover’s meat freezer until I can get it mounted. Probably put it right here behind the cash register. It’ll be a good reminder.”

“Reminder of what?”

“A good afternoon fishing with Cornelius and the preacher. Learned a lot yesterday. Turns out Cornelius is a
really fine fellow. Thanks again for loaning us your truck and boat.”

“Anytime. Anytime I’m not haulin’ a hog around, at least. Well, have a fine day!”

“I’ll try, Arlie.”

And he did have a fine day. A number of customers came by in the morning, with several stopping in to chat. Del was in town to see to some final details on the sale of the Crutcher estate and to have lunch at Stacy’s Grocery. Sam Wright drove up in his Farmall to buy gasoline and a can of brake fluid.

Sam stayed for a while, talking nonsense and drinking Virgil’s coffee. “Well, got to go have lunch. Bertha’s making beans and corn bread.”

“Enjoy some for me.” Virgil looked at his watch. It was indeed lunchtime, and he’d not gotten to the muffler on the Nash yet. The parts were supposed to be here Tuesday morning, the man said. He found the
Out to Lunch
sign and hung it on the front door. He noticed two cars lined up at the Zipco. Somehow, this pleased him.