Moon Water

by Pam Webber

  “Drying it up. You all split up. We need to find every fan we can get our hands on, even if we have to bring them from home.”

  It took an hour for them to gather fans of all shapes and sizes. After they placed them strategically around the sanctuary, it took less than a minute to turn the chamber into a giant snow globe.

  Pastor Williams and several congregation members stopped by to watch the show, including Mrs. Smith. “Pastor, I haven’t laughed so hard in years. These bubbles are exactly what our stuffy old congregation needed.”

  Pastor Williams did not appear amused.

  By afternoon, bubbles were dropping and popping everywhere. When Nettie and the others returned the next morning, the suds had dried to a fine dust that could be vacuumed. By day’s end, the clean and polished sanctuary sparkled more and smelled better than it had in decades.

  Nettie peeked into the baptismal pool before she left. The scratches were still visible, but no one had mentioned them.

  While some of the congregation appreciated Sudsy Sunday, Pastor Williams refused to see the humor. Using a cane, he limped into the follow-up meeting with Nettie.

  “Pastor Williams, I’m really sorry you got hurt. I was upset and forgot to turn the water off.”

  “So I hear. However, I’m sure you understand there still have to be consequences.”

  “Yes, sir. I guess so. Is Anne Johnson going to be punished too?”

  “Consequences are not always a punishment.”

  “Is Anne going to have consequences too?”

  “She says she had nothing to do with putting the soap in the pool. In fact, she thought the incident was an intentional prank on your part.”

  “And you believed her? Sir?”

  “She said you threw a wet sponge at her.”

  “I did, but only after she—”

  “I understand that you and Anne are dealing with some kind of romantic conflict, which is unfortunate but not my concern. You were asked to clean the pool. Your inattention to this responsibility resulted in quite a mess. Someone could have been seriously hurt.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “As we discussed at our last meeting, Pastor Danes has volunteered to work with you. He feels he can help you mature as a Christian and develop a better sense of social responsibility. I think it’s time you two get started. You and I will meet again in August to see where things stand.”

  Nettie paced angrily in front of Win’s front stoop. “If Pastor Williams is so concerned about social well-being, why the heck is he baptizing that hypocrite in the first place? She lied to him. Again. And he bought it hook, line, and sinker. Again.”

  “The man can only work with the words he’s given.”

  “Then why can’t he work with mine? He didn’t even bother to ask me what happened. He just took Anne’s word for it and assigned all the guilt to me. You’d think he’d be smart enough to know when he’s being manipulated. If Momma wasn’t so intent on me getting baptized, I’d walk away.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because it’s not in you to give up, especially on something as important as this. If obstacles get thrown in your way, you figure out a way around them, or over them, or through them. You always have.”

  “I bet John the Baptist didn’t make Jesus attend a bunch of meetings before he dunked him in the Jordan. And if the New Testament is right, I’m damn sure—oops, sorry, I’m sure—Jesus wouldn’t put me through what this old Bible-thumper is. Jesus keeps things simple.” Nettie stopped pacing and stared at the night sky, trying to surrender the injustice. “It’s so unfair.”

  “Yes, it is. Now, dust off your feet and move on.”

  Nettie shivered against an air conditioner running full blast and struggled to get comfortable in the straight-backed chair as she waited for Mr. Danes. His basement office looked bare in contrast with Pastor Williams’s. Other than a picture of Adam and Eve under an apple tree and a bunch of water pipes, nothing decorated the walls. No books lined the shelves, nor were there any papers, notebooks, pens, or pencils on the desk. There wasn’t even a Bible in sight. The Wednesday-night church ladies said Mr. Danes had graduated from the seminary in New Orleans, a city they likened to Sodom and Gomorrah.

  Other than watching him preach every other Sunday for a few weeks, Nettie had been around Mr. Danes only one other time. After his first Wednesday-night church supper, he and Andy had compared their rebuilt car engines while Nettie waited in the shade next to the parking lot. Afterward, he came over to introduce himself, shaking her hand enthusiastically until she pulled it away. Up close, his blond crew cut, silver-gray eyes, and wide smile made him attractive, if not handsome. His warmth had been a nice contrast to Pastor Williams.

  She jumped as the door closed behind her.

  “Good evening, Nettie.”

  “Good evening, sir.”

  Dressed in khakis, a white button-down shirt, and penny loafers, Mr. Danes sat his church-supper Dixie cup on the desk, adjusted his chair, and leaned back. His chair didn’t squeak like Pastor Williams’s.

  “It’s good to see you again.”

  “You too, sir.”

  “I’m particularly glad to have a chance to work with you. Mrs. McDermott says you’re a great student.”

  “I wish Pastor Williams thought so.”

  He nodded. “I understand you two have had some challenges.”

  “You could say that.” Nettie didn’t try to hide her annoyance.

  “He thinks you need to be better prepared for baptism. What do you think?”

  “I’m not crazy about having to do extra work, but I’m here.”

  “At least you’re honest.”

  “That’s what got me into this mess.”

  “No. I think lack of belief landed you here.”

  “I believe. At least, most of it. I just have questions that don’t seem to fit with what I believe.”

  “Fair enough. Keeping the faith when you don’t understand why is a good place for us to start.”

  “What do I have to do?”

  Mr. Danes pulled a list of Bible verses and a composition book out of a desk drawer. “Each week, I’ll give you specific readings to do. Afterward, write down any questions you have in this notebook, and we’ll discuss them after the GA meetings on Wednesday nights. How does that sound?”

  “Okay, I guess. How many weeks will it take?”

  “That depends on you.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I have to remember to give all the right answers, don’t I?”

  Mr. Danes laughed out loud. “Pastor Williams said you have difficulty holding your tongue.”

  “Holding it isn’t the problem. Telling a lie with it is. Pastor Williams chose to believe the wrong person.”

  Mr. Danes’s eyes widened.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He sat up straight. “Don’t apologize. You’re spunky. I like that. But I think you’re confusing the injustice of how you got here with the more important reason of why you’re here.”

  “Injustice?” Nettie cocked her head. “Does that mean you believe me?”

  He gave a quick nod. “Yes. I do. This whole situation started because you were honest about what you believed and what you didn’t. That type of conviction about the truth doesn’t usually come and go.”

  Nettie relaxed. Meeting with Mr. Danes might not be so bad after all. “I never thought about it as conviction. It’s just wrong to lie.”

  Mr. Danes’s penetrating gray eyes stayed on her for a long, uncomfortable moment. Emptying his cup, he stood and walked her to the door. “Yes, it is.”

  Nettie met Win on the church steps.

  “How’d it go?”

  “Not as badly as I thought it would. He’s not as stuffy as Pastor Williams. He also thinks I’m telling the truth.”

  “Well, that’s good.”

  “It is, but I still have to do the sessions to figure out the be
lief things. He wants to meet on Wednesday nights, when I’m already here for dinner and the GA meetings.”

  “That makes it easier, especially with all the other stuff we have going on.”

  “Like spending more time with Cal?”

  The streetlight made Win’s blush glow. “There’s a dance Friday night in Oak’s Landing. Want to go? Cal said Ethan would drive if we didn’t want to take the train. His grandmother lets them use her everyday car.”

  “I guess.”

  “Don’t sound so excited.”

  “Sorry. I like Ethan, but as a friend. I’d prefer to dance with Andy.”

  “That’s not going to happen until the two of you stop being mule-headed.”

  “Has Cal kissed you yet?”

  “No.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Nettie navigated while Ethan negotiated the road’s steep inclines and switchbacks. As they crested the mountain at Walton’s Pass, the sunlit valley lay before them like a colorful quilt. She had forgotten how different Oak’s Landing looked from a car, as opposed to the train. Painted houses, trimmed lawns, flower beds, and tended vegetable gardens lined the road into town. Along tree-lined Main Street, shop owners rolled in awnings and swept sidewalks.

  Ethan guided the big Chrysler into one of the angled parking spaces in front of Huffman’s General Store. Jumping out, he came around to open the door for Nettie. “This place is something. It’s like going back in time.”

  “Folks here like it that way,” Win said, as she climbed out. “They even have a plaque in the park that says BLESSED BY GOD AND SHELTERED FROM THE REST OF THE WORLD. C’mon, Nettie and I will give you two the nickel tour.”

  Two by two, they made their way past the post office, the five-and-dime, Maggie’s Diner, and the barbershop. Hundreds of locusts were in full vibrato as the four approached the foothill at the end of the street. Way up at the top sat the stone church Win’s great-grandfather had built. Stopping at a large, flat boulder near the bottom of the steep drive, Win sprinkled small brown flakes across the top.

  Cal rolled some between his fingers and sniffed. “Tobacco?”

  Win nodded. “It’s a Monacan tribute to my great-grandfather.”

  “What’s a Monacan?”

  “I am. Monacans are Native Americans who settled this part of Virginia centuries ago. My great-grandfather was a chief. He was also a Baptist minister. He preached from this stone every Sunday until he and the congregation had gathered enough river rock and raised enough money to build the church. He’d sit here in the evenings, smoke his pipe, and talk with whoever passed by. He baptized me here. My grandmother Nibi is his daughter. She lives in the mountains across the river.”

  “Will she be here tonight?”

  “Probably. She enjoys the music.”

  Ethan’s gaze tracked up the church’s spire to the cross at the top. “It’s tilted. What happened?”

  “Good eye. Nibi said it tilted during a bad storm the day it was installed. Her father left it that way because he thought it spoke to the short distance between heaven and hell better than words could.”

  “I don’t see anyone up there. Why are the doors and windows open?” Cal asked.

  “They stay open most of the time. My great-grandfather wanted folks to come in to worship when they felt like it or find shelter when they needed it.”

  Darkness had settled in and the band had started playing as the four of them circled back to the park. Half a dozen children and a few couples made their way to the clearing in front of the gazebo to dance while Mrs. Loving set out treats on a gingham-covered table. “Nettie, Win, come taste these cookies. I have a new butter recipe.”

  Win introduced Ethan and Cal as they sampled the goodies. Spotting the Warren boys’ bicycle nearby, Nettie slid her cookie back. On the next table sat two large punch bowls, one clear, the other red. The clear one had a dipper and cups set around it; the red one didn’t. Mr. Meeks, the barber, stood behind the second bowl, a dipper and paper cups on a bench behind him.

  Ethan nodded toward the red bowl. “Wonder how old you have to be to drink from that one.”

  “Old enough not to tell,” Nettie said.

  Win pointed to a cluster of rocking chairs near the gazebo. “Nibi’s here.” She led them over and introduced Ethan and Cal.

  “Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Ethan said, shaking her hand.

  “Ma’am,” Cal added.

  “Nice to meet you boys. First time in Virginia?”

  “No, ma’am, but it’s been a while,” Ethan replied.

  “Do you like our valley?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It’s beautiful.”

  “You’ll have to get Nettie and Win to bring you boys up to my home place sometime.”

  Cal nodded. “That would be great.”

  Nibi nudged Ethan’s arm and nodded toward Nettie as another song started.

  “Right. Nettie, would you like to dance?”

  “Sure.”

  Ethan led her onto the dance floor, smoothly matching her step, then taking the lead.

  “Where’d you learn to dance so well?” Nettie asked.

  “Cotillion.”

  “My mother made me do cotillion too, but it didn’t stick.”

  “My mother made Cal and me take it over and over again until it did. I finally learned how just so I didn’t have to go anymore.” As Ethan pulled her closer, a hand tapped his shoulder from below.

  “May I cut in?” Wade Warren stood dressed in his Sunday best.

  “Sure.” Ethan winked at Nettie, then went to sit with Nibi.

  Nettie studied Wade’s scrubbed face. “Did you spike anything on Mrs. Loving’s table tonight?”

  “No. Honest. I didn’t. I’m really sorry about doing it the first time.”

  “You already apologized, but I’ll accept it again. How many others did you set on fire that morning?”

  “Just you.”

  Standing a head taller than Wade, Nettie saw his cowlick shaking. “Do you know how to dance?”

  “A little. I’ve been practicing. I figured you’d show up at one of the dances this summer.” He timidly placed his left hand on Nettie’s waist and took her left hand with his right. Shuffling out of step with the music, he repeatedly stepped on her toes. His faced turned beet red as he stumbled. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Don’t be. If you take a wrong step, just start over. Go slow and take one step at a time. Like this: One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three.”

  When they were finally moving smoothly, Wade quit watching his feet.

  “Did you ever apologize to Mrs. Loving?”

  “Yes, but she still made us help clean the store. It was the only way she agreed not to tell Pop what we’d done.”

  “Good for her.”

  Wade nodded toward Ethan. “Is he your new boyfriend?”

  “No. Why?”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Because I want to be. My birthday is the fifteenth, so I’m almost old enough to have a girlfriend.”

  Nettie bit the smile from her lips. It took courage for Wade to put himself out there. “I’m a little old for you, don’t you think?”

  Wade’s face drooped like wilted lettuce.

  “I’ll tell you what. If you feel the same way next year, call me, and we’ll have lunch at Howell’s in Amherst. Deal?”

  Happy with better than nothing, Wade nodded as the music stopped. “Deal.”

  “Thanks for the dance.” Nettie kissed him on the cheek, then rejoined the others.

  Nibi winked. “Puppy love?”

  “I guess. He’s been following Win and me around for a while now.”

  “Poor thing. Young love can hurt.”

  Ethan whispered, “So can old love.”

  Nettie wasn’t sure he knew he’d spoken out loud.

  Nibi took Ethan’s hand and pulled him to her, whispering in his ear.

  He looked shaken as he stepped back. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”


  “You’re welcome. Now, you two go dance and have a good time.”

  Ethan led Nettie onto the dance floor, slid his arm around her waist, and started swaying to the music, but he wasn’t there.

  Nettie turned his face to hers. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. She just surprised the hell out of me, that’s all. She said my family was going to be okay and that Cal and I should be patient.”

  Nettie nodded, not surprised that Nibi had sensed his pain.

  “Did you or Win tell her what was going on with my mom and dad?”

  “I didn’t. I don’t think Win did either.”

  “Then that old woman’s spooky.”

  “No. She’s a shaman.”

  “A what?”

  “A medicine woman. She’s able to see things we can’t and know things we don’t.”

  Ethan looked back Nibi. “I hope she’s right.”

  Nibi’s gift to him had been exactly that: hope. Nettie didn’t mention that Win had the same abilities. It wasn’t her story to tell.

  Joining Cal and Win at the unguarded red bowl, they quickly filled their cups, Mr. Meeks too busy dancing to notice or discreetly looking the other way. The four of them made their way through the crowd to the shadows along the river walk.

  “I’ve never had moonshine before,” Nettie said.

  Ethan grinned. “Neither have I. But there’s a first time for everything.” He and Cal took their first sips. Cal started coughing, and Ethan’s face contorted as if he’d sucked a lemon. “Oh, man.”

  Nettie sniffed her cup. It smelled tart and peachy. Taking a tentative sip, she puckered and swallowed hard. The slow burn went all the way to her belly.

  Win gagged on her first sip, while Cal took another swig. “It tastes better the second time.”

  Ethan poured the rest of his liquor into Nettie’s cup. “Grams will kill me if I wreck her car.”

  Cal lifted his cup. “All right, you all, time to chug. On the count of three. One, two, two and a half, three.”

  Nettie and Win joined him in downing the clear whiskey, making a sputtering chorus with the last drops.

  Nettie shuddered. “I don’t know why anyone would drink this stuff more than once.”

  Ethan tossed their cups in a trash can. “Just wait. You’ll know why in a few minutes.”