The Glory of Green (3 page)

She glanced down at my feet. "Have your new shoes been chewed on?"

"Take one guess," I said. "I hoped no one would notice."

She held up her frayed camera strap. "Holly Beth got this last week and my wallet the week before."

"She may be the cutest wedding gift ever, but she's certainly not the easiest," Kevin said. "I'm glad Asa Corinthian hasn't taken up that habit. Pray for Papa Levi tonight. He's watching Asa, and, as you know, my son can be a handful."

"Are you sure he can't come to the wedding?" I asked. "You know Chris and I don't care if he makes noise."

"Lois, my idea of a beautiful wedding does not include Asa racing the bride down the aisle. Besides, I have a date with Terrence."

Tammy squealed. "That hunk of a lawyer from Alexandria? The guy who helped Lois with the lawsuit against the paper last year?"

"One and the same."

"I didn't know you two were dating," Katy jumped in.

"This is our second date. I hope a wedding doesn't scare him away."

"Did you know?" Katy turned to Molly, always wanting to make sure she was not scooped on a piece of gossip.

"I'm Dr. Kevin's backup babysitter," Molly said. "I know all."

"You sneak! Best friends are supposed to tell each other everything."

"Forget about telling everything," Tammy said. "I need to get photos of everything, including the guests arriving. I hope everyone doesn't get soaked before I get good shots."

"Soaked?" I asked. "Is it supposed to rain that hard?"

"When I checked a few minutes ago, it looked like the front's going north of us," she said, "but it could be bad later on."

"Who's posting the online news update?" I turned for Kevin to straighten my hem, my head twisted toward Tammy.

"Tom's got it covered," Molly said. "He's not over that stomach bug, so he'd planned to skip the wedding anyway. He didn't think you—or Dr. Kevin—would appreciate him infecting the town. "

"He's got that right," Kevin said.

"I think he's secretly afraid he'll cry," Molly said. "He's a lot more tenderhearted than he lets on."

"Maybe that's why he never got married. He couldn't stand going to weddings," Katy added.

"He wants to stay near the police radio," Tammy said. "Lois, he said to tell you he'll hold down the fort."

Bouef Parish beauty Misty Bright was crowned queen of the Red Clover Festival Saturday, outshining a field of ten contestants parading atop a flatbed trailer. The day got even better for the 19-year-old dental assistant when, her tiara perched on her blonde hair, she won her division in the festival's annual arm-wrestling competition. Her 16-year-old adversary, Heather Hull, put up a good fight and had praise for Misty. "Losing to a girl with a crown was the most depressing thing. But there's no denying she's fast and real strong for someone with such skinny arms.''

—The Green News-Item

O
n the arm of my oldest brother, I stepped into the sanctuary and instantly met Chris's eyes. He inhaled deeply, put a hand over his heart, and smiled.

The lights were turned low, and candles flickered. The flowers looked and smelled as though we had wandered into a beautiful garden, as I had dreamed. Guests stood in unison as the pianist pounded out the "Wedding March." My dress flowed, and my heart soared.

I stopped to hug my soon-to-be mother-in-law, handed my bouquet of stunning lilies to my young niece, and moved on to the altar, where I placed my hand on top of Chris's. Pastor Jean stood nearby, Bible open.

The sound of sniffles could be heard over a strong wind outside. Katy stood and read a Scripture passage, and Jean spoke quiet words about love. Chris and I didn't take our eyes off each other throughout the vows.

"For longer than I care to admit, I have looked forward to uttering these words," Jean said with a smile, rain pounding on the roof. "Chris and Lois, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Chris, might I suggest you kiss your bride?" Lightning shot through the stained glass windows, and a huge clap of thunder boomed when Chris put his lips to mine. The lights in the church flickered. The crowd applauded, and Tammy set her camera aside long enough to let loose with another of her celebrated shrill whistles.

"Each of you," Jean said to the guests, "has helped Lois and Chris make it to the altar. We all know that was not the easiest thing to do." Cheers, groans, and more clapping burst out.

"Lois doesn't do things the easy way," Rose, the owner of the antique mall across from the paper, yelled.

"You can say that again," the usually sedate mayor said.

"Amen," said Kevin.

Chris had his arm around my waist and gave me a tight squeeze. The grin on my face felt as though it reached both ears.

"Each of you, friends and family, are part of their marriage.They will need you to laugh with them and share their tears through the years." As the pastor spoke, I wiped one of those tears from my eyes with an antique handkerchief Rose had given me for the occasion.

"Please rise and join hands, making a covenant to love and encourage them as they love and encourage you."

Chris and I, hands linked, faced the congregation, as the people who meant so much to us gathered nearer. My new mother-in-law took my right hand, tears in her eyes, and Jean took my husband's left hand, herself less composed than usual.

There were a few moments of shuffling and movement and chatty conversation, punctuated by what had become a fierce storm outside. Tammy scooted around the room, looking as though she had photographed weddings for years, instead of this being the first time.

Marcus took the hand of Pearl, his bride of many years, and of Kevin, the daughter he was so proud of. Kevin clasped attorney Terrence's hand, and Terrence wound up holding hands with Walt, a funny sight, with Linda, reporter Alex, and the mayor next to them. Molly and Katy had their arms around each other, best friends forever, and Iris and Stan were also linked, arms around their waists.

A group of newspaper correspondents, including Anna Grace, the food writer, and Bud, the agriculture guy, clustered together; and Hank, the fire chief, and Doug, the police chief, who had helped us through the terrible year of the fires, stood on the edge, clearly trying to avoid holding hands with each other but whispering after a particularly loud peal of thunder.

I closed my eyes briefly, trying to capture the image forever in my mind, faces illuminated by candlelight and the persistent lightning outside the stained glass.

Chris held up my left hand with my new wedding ring, never letting go.

"Isn't this something?" he said to the guests, and teary smiles met his as the lights flickered again. Another murmur flowed through the crowd, and I was unclear whether they were talking about our wedding or the storm.

"Pastor Jean will lead us in prayer before we take you folks to the fellowship hall for cake and punch," Chris said.

"Merciful, loving God, thank you for Lois and Chris. Give them an abundance of love for each other and those they encounter wherever life leads them." A huge clap of thunder sounded, lightning glared through the window, and the church almost shook with the wind. "And guide them through the storms of life."

Our guests gave a nervous laugh, and the wind blew so hard that the small church swayed. Or maybe it was my weak knees, overcome with happiness.

"Friends and family, I present to you Green's newlyweds, Lois and Chris Craig," Pastor Jean said. The crowd clapped, and my husband held me tight against his solid chest.

Right before the lights went out.

My to-do lists had let me down. Not one of them included flashlights for the reception.

Thankfully, Hank, used to guiding people at fires, safely herded everyone into the fellowship hall. Stan and Walt helped Chris move candelabras from the sanctuary. I noticed Doug conferring with Chris before he went back into the main church building.

"What am I going to do about the pictures of you and Chris together?" Tammy wailed, sounding a great deal like the wind through the side door. "I need portraits. And I can't photograph the reception in the dark."

"Tammy, we'll do the best we can," I said.

"The lights go out all the time on Route Two," Iris Jo added, "and it usually doesn't last long."

With candles and three flashlights dug out of a box in the storeroom, we came up with enough light to serve the beautiful two-layered square wedding cake with pink polka dots on white icing, and the groom's cake, shaped like a giant catfish with licorice whiskers.

Chris and I stood to the side as people congratulated us, hugging me and high-fiving my groom, a level of anxiety apparent as the crowd tried to figure out whether to stay put or try to make it home in the rain.

The journalist in me noticed the instant Hank and Doug left the room, and I nudged Chris. "Maybe you should talk to the chiefs. See what's up. I'll visit and distract everyone."

I motioned to Tammy. "See if you can reach Tom and find out what's going on. Use the phone in Pastor Jean's office. The cell reception is horrible out here."

By now the storm was so loud that my niece and nephews were clutching their mothers' legs, and Katy and Molly had a rare worried look on their faces. Hank and Doug reappeared and motioned to the mayor, right as Chris headed my way and Tammy burst back in. In a rare show of restraint, she pulled us into the small kitchen, where a church member was trying to mix more punch by flashlight.

"Tornado warning," Tammy said, quiet and to the point."Tom says it's bad to the west of us. Two twisters have been reported on the ground in East Texas. Everyone needs to take cover immediately."

The police and fire chiefs and mayor walked in, and the volunteer making punch laid the flashlight down and scurried out. "It looks bad and could be headed our way," Doug said."Tornado paths are hard to predict, but we need to prepare for the worst."

"Do what you need to do," Chris said.

Doug stood on a chair, his flashlight steady. "Friends, do not panic," he said, words I always thought were designed to make people freak out. "Take cover now. We have reports of a possible tornado in the area."

His words catapulted the room into motion. The flimsy plastic chairs fell to the floor as people stood quickly. A few people said, "Lord, have mercy," while others pushed to get into place.

"This side of the room, walk quickly to the kitchen," Hank said in a loud voice, motioning with a flashlight. "This side, follow Pastor Jean to the largest of the Sunday school classrooms."

"No shoving," Doug said. "Stay away from windows."

Chris reached for me, and I looked around the room for his parents, who did not move as quickly as the younger people.Estelle and Hugh were walking into the kitchen, chatting with a neighbor like they were at a church social.

"Lois?" Kevin's urgent voice was next to me in the darkened room. "How bad is it? I tried to check on Papa Levi and Asa and couldn't get through."

"Tom told Tammy about ten minutes ago that it doesn't seem as bad in town as it is out here."

"I've got to go to Asa," Kevin said. "He'll be scared. Will you keep an eye on Mama and Daddy for me?" Terrence stood behind her, a hand on her back.

"No one should leave right now," Mayor Eva said. "I know you're worried, but we need everyone to take shelter." She spoke in a voice as calm as if preparing for the ice cream festival and as firm as though dressing down the city council.

Before Kevin could reply, the rain hit heavier on the roof."Hail," Chris said.

"Get down as low as you can," Doug yelled. "Cover your heads."

Then came the roar.

Chris tackled me to the floor, and Terrence shielded Kevin, who was moaning Asa's name over and over, intermingled with "my baby, my baby."

"Our Father who art in heaven," I could hear Marcus saying from the kitchen, and those around him joined in the Lord's Prayer.

At that moment the roof peeled off a corner of the room, blowing candles over and starting three or four small fires, rain gushing in to extinguish them. Wedding debris flew around the room, pieces of it sucked up through the everwidening hole in the roof, as though a giant vacuum cleaner were at work. Buckets of rain poured into the church, and the sound of glass breaking was mixed with unknown thuds from outside.

Screams could be heard from the other areas of the church, along with loud wailing prayers for God to have mercy.

"Stay down, wherever you are," Hank yelled, barely audible over the storm. "Nobody move."

"I love you," I said to Chris, whose body protected mine. "I don't want to die."

"I love you, too," he said. "Don't let go of me."

The fury seemed as though it would never end. Seconds seemed to last for hours.

At about the time I thought my heart might stop, the winds calmed and the rain slowed—and panic exploded, people shouting for their loved ones, some separated in the mad dash for safety.

"Tammy," I heard Walt yell.

"Stan, where are you?" Fear sounded in Iris Jo's voice.

"Do
not
move," Hank shouted. "This is a dangerous situation."

"No kidding," Katy said from the kitchen. After her smart remark, I could hear her talking quietly. "We're all fine in here, Chief," she said, "but Miss Pearl has hurt her arm."

"Mama?" Kevin rushed toward the kitchen. I slowly stood up, my knee throbbing where it had knocked into the floor.

"Chris, keep things together in here," Hank said. "I'll check with the mayor and Doug in the other rooms."

People began to scurry, but didn't seem to know where they were going. Many ran for the doors, desperate to check on family members not at the wedding.

"Do not move," Hank bellowed, already hoarse. "We are in a state of emergency."

"Get Dr. Kevin," the police chief yelled before Hank got out of the room. "Possible heart attack."

Kevin paused, torn between her mother and another patient. Her mother, huddled near the kitchen door, immediately spoke. "See to the others, baby," Pearl said. "I'm OK."

I had never felt so helpless in my life.

"What do we do?" I asked Chris, noticing blood on a cut on his hand.

"We have to figure out how bad it is outside." He spoke quickly. "We've got to make sure it's safe before we let people head out. It's going to be hard to keep them here."

"Outside?"

"On Route Two. Downtown. We dodged a bullet, but who knows what the rest of Green is like?"

"This was dodging a bullet?" I spoke slowly, rattled to the core.

"No one was killed here," Chris said. "The damage is bad but the building didn't fall in on us."

Suddenly it hit me what Chris was saying. The path of a tornado I had covered outside Dayton appeared in my mind.

"Oh, no," I said. "The
Item.
Tom. Maria and the boys. Holly Beth. I've got to check on them."

"Lois," Chris said, "one thing at a time. Let's take care of everyone here, and then do what is needed next. "

Hank and Doug calmly directed everyone into the sanctuary, which seemed to have the least damage, although it was hard to tell in the darkness.

"I know you want to check on your houses and loved ones," Eva said from the pulpit. "But as your mayor, I ask you to stay until we assess the extent of the damage. It is not safe to leave."

"Maybe it's limited to this area," Bud, a volunteer patrol officer as well as part-time news correspondent, said. "Tornadoes have strange patterns."

"We can only hope that is the case," Eva said, futilely hitting redial on her phone as she spoke. "We must make sure all citizens of Green are accounted for. The police chief and I are headed into town to take control of the command station where we have a generator. Regular phones are out, and cell circuits are overloaded. When we establish that it is safe, we'll get you all home."

Jean stood by Eva and suggested everyone pray. "Bow your heads alone or in small groups, as we wait, and ask for strength and wisdom and for help for those who need a special touch at this moment." She moved from person to person, laying both her hands on their shoulders and praying with them.

I walked out of the sanctuary, torn between checking on my house and Holly Beth and assisting others. My brothers followed me, asking how they could help.

"Come with me," Chris said. "We need to know what we're dealing with."

As they started to walk out the door, I ran to Chris. "Wait," I said. "I'm going, too."