Herod
Centurion! Centurion! See here,
A message from the troops we sent to find
Those snoopers from the East—remember them?
“Where is the newborn King?” they asked—of me!
Those fools you sent have let them slip away,
So now we must take measures desperate.
Take your troops to Bethlehem, kill every babe—
Oh, spare me your protest—you’ve killed before!
I’ve dealt before with this kingly infection.
Kill it not—it spreads itself like plague!
And who’d be first to go if a Jewish king
Arrived? Me—then you—then Rome itself!
We’ll crush this infant threat to Roman power.
I’ll have his blood! Centurion, begone!
My name will live and long remembered be
When this child’s name is wiped from memory!
Slowly Lanie closed her notebook, put it away, then went to bed. “Nobody will ever read it, but it makes me feel good to write about the Lord Jesus.” She closed her eyes, then dropped off to sleep.
C H A P T E R 15
As Lanie exited from the high school, she looked with a sense of delight around her. The snow, which had been falling all afternoon, had coated the landscape with a blanket of pristine white, and the late afternoon sun made the surface glitter like millions of diamonds. Caught up in the rush of escaping students, Lanie ran across the unbroken snow, gleefully leaving new tracks in the surface. She heard her name called and looked up to see Maeva and her brothers running toward her from the elementary school.
“Hey, how about this snow!” Maeva yelled. Reaching down, she scooped up a double handful and caked it into a ball. She threw it at Lanie, who ducked and yelled back, “You couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn!” She made her own snowball, and soon the school yard was filled with flying missiles. Lanie caught one in her ear, but she had on a knit cap so it stung only a little.
Cody, yelling like a wild Indian, jumped on Max Jinks and brought him down. He scooped up a handful of snow and began washing his face, yelling, “You need a bath, Jinks, you stink!”
For a time the novelty of the snow kept the students of both schools occupied, but finally Lanie called out, “Come on. We’ve got to get home.” She left the school yard with her siblings and headed down Oak Street. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, her eyes glowing as she studied the houses. “It looks like a fairy town.” The snow had put smooth, unbroken roofs on all of the houses, transforming the sharp angles into curving frosted shapes.
The Fairhope business center, too, was coated with the sparkling snow and did not seem to be itself. The four Freemans made their way past the statue in the square, and they passed by the office of the Fairhope Sentinel, the town’s newspaper. A woman in a thin coat was shoveling snow. Lanie smiled at her. “Hi, Miss Patton. You don’t need to be shoveling that old snow. Let us do it.”
Elspeth Patton, staunch Baptist and publisher of the Sentinel, turned to face them. She was a small woman with beautifully shaped silver hair and a pair of fine gray eyes. At sixty-one she was still an attractive woman. “I expect you could do a better job than I could. Here.” She held out the shovel, and Davis grabbed it and began making the snow fly. Miss Patton got out of the way. “Come on in the office, Lanie. Let these hoodlums do the work. Boys, as soon as you get through, come inside. I’ll have something you’ll like.” She walked into the building. Lanie followed, but Maeva stayed outside, insisting on taking her turn with the shovel.
The smell of ink and paper was strong in the outer office, a large room with desks scattered about. Cork bulletin boards filled with notices, pictures, and stories from past issues covered the walls. From the back came the clanking sound of the press running and a man’s voice singing “Yes, We Have No Bananas.”
“Let’s make up a big pot of cocoa. I’ve got some cookies here that I baked last night.” Elspeth moved toward a hot plate and began making the cocoa. She was silent for a time, and there was concern in her eyes as she glanced toward Lanie. “Have you heard from your father?”
Lanie turned from a bulletin board. “Yes, ma’am. I write to him almost every day. Of course I don’t mail the letters every day, but I date them. Sometimes I’ll have three or four in one envelope.”
Miss Patton was a straightforward woman. Her father founded the Fairhope Sentinel, and she had taken on the calling after he died. She was also a compassionate woman. She stooped down and picked up a big Persian cat and sat down. Stroking its fur, she said, “Daisy, stop that!”—then to Lanie—“She loves to dig her claws into me.”
“Our cat does that too. I wonder why?”
“I have no idea. Cats are mysterious creatures.”
A short balding man with an ink-stained apron burst out of the back room. The sound of the presses intensified, and he shouted, “How’s this, Miss Patton?”
Taking the sheet of paper from the printer, she examined it, and Lanie saw something change in her expression. “That’s very good.”
“It ain’t very good news, but that’s the way it is.”
“Okay. Run it like this, Harry.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As soon as the printer closed the door, muting the sound, Elspeth turned the sheet around so Lanie could see it. “Bad news. The very worst kind.”
Lanie read the headline, which was in bold black letters: “STOCK MARKET FALLS.” She looked up. “I’ve been hearing about that. I don’t understand it.”
“I don’t think even the men who operate the stock market understand it. It’s like some kind of black magic. But it’s bad news, Harry’s right about that.”
“What do you think it means? Won’t there be any stock market after today?”
“Oh, they’ll keep on doing business, but it’s going to be a hard time for this country. A lot of businesses are going to go under, Lanie. People have been chasing rainbows for years now. You must have heard about it. People using their life’s savings to buy land in Florida they’ve never even seen, hoping the value will triple or go even higher. Gambling on stocks in companies they never even heard of on the advice of some man they don’t even know. Some people are always trying to get something for nothing.”
A slight fear touched Lanie then, and she thought of the note at the bank and of the trucks her father had bought. “But people will still have to have things. I mean, the grocery stores won’t close, will they?”
“Some of them will.” Looking at Lanie, she said, “You’re worrying about your note at the bank, aren’t you?”
“How did you know about that?”
“No secrets in a small town.” She winked and smiled. “Besides, I’m on the board of the bank.”
“Well, I am a bit worried, Miss Patton, but Mr. Langley has got lots of money. He won’t go broke, will he?”
“No one can say about that. I don’t want to alarm you, but it looks serious.”
The two sat there, and Lanie listened as Elspeth Patton explained some of the intricacies of Wall Street. The door burst open, and Maeva and the boys came thundering in, their faces flushed. “All done, Miss Patton,” Cody said.
“All right. How about some cocoa and cookies?”
Lanie helped pour the cocoa and divided the cookies, and the children scarfed them down and sputtered and blew on the hot cocoa, which was too hot to drink right down.
After all the cups were empty, Lanie said, “We’ve got to go. We’ll be late. Thanks for the cookies and the cocoa, Miss Patton.”
“Thanks for doing my sidewalk. I’ll see you in church Sunday.” She watched the four go, and a touch of sadness came to her. “It’s going to go hard with those youngsters,” she murmured.
Bascom Jones was on the porch waiting for them. As soon as Lanie saw his face, her heart sank. “What is it, Bascom? Come in out of the cold.”
Lanie opened the door and Bascom stepped inside, pulled his cap off,
and stood in the hall. “I got some real bad news, Miss Lanie. I really hates to give it to you.”
“What is it? Did one of the trucks break down?”
“No, ma’am, it’s worse than that. We took a load of logs to the mill today, and the boss man there, he say the company ain’t buyin’ no more logs—at least not from us.”
Lanie tried to keep her face from showing what she felt, but panic had its way with her. “They won’t buy logs? But Mr. Langley had a deal with Daddy.”
“Yes, ma’am. I didn’t talk to Mr. Langley, of course, but Mr. Jones, the sawmill boss, he say for us not to bring no mo’. I don’t rightly know what to do with them logs on the truck now.”
Lanie thought quickly. “I’ll go talk to Mr. Langley.”
“Yes, ma’am. What’ll I do about the logs?”
“Just leave them for now. Surely he won’t close the sawmill down.”
“I don’t know, miss. Things are powerful bad. Everything’s goin’ to pieces, seems like.”
“I’ll see about it, Bascom.”
“I’d like to see Mr. Langley if I could, please.”
The secretary stared at Lanie with hard brown eyes. “What is your business?”
“I’d really rather tell Mr. Langley, if you don’t mind.”
“What’s your name?”
“Lanie Freeman.”
“Mr. Langley’s a very busy man, but I’ll see if he can make a moment for you.”
Lanie stood there, her legs so weak that she wanted to sit. Otis Langley was the richest and most important man in Fairhope. She had spoken to him only a few times, and she remembered his anger when she beat his son Roger for the grand prize.
The secretary came out and held the door open. “You can see Mr. Langley for a few minutes.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Lanie walked inside and took one quick frightened look around. There was carpet on the floor and a big desk in the middle of the room, behind which sat Mr. Langley. He looked at her with a steady expression. “Hello, Lanie.”
“Hello, Mr. Langley.”
“What can I do for you today?”
Lanie swallowed hard and found that she was twisting her hands together. She pulled them apart and willed them steady at her sides. “One of the men who drives my daddy’s trucks said that the sawmill wouldn’t buy the logs anymore.”
Langley leaned back in his chair. He was a big man with an abundant crown of brown hair and an air of confidence. He extended his hands, spread his fingers, and tapped his fingertips together. “You know what’s going on in this country, don’t you, Lanie?” “You mean the stock market?”
“That’s right. Everything is different now. It’s the hardest time this country has ever seen, I think, except perhaps during the war.” He looked out the window for a moment and lowered his voice. “Though it may get worse than that before it’s over.” He turned back to Lanie. “I’m sorry, but I’m shutting the mill down, for the most part, for a time.”
“You’re not buying any logs at all?”
“That will be up to the manager, but you can’t count on our buying any more from your men.”
Lanie’s mouth went dry. A big hole seemed to have opened up before her, and panic threatened to swallow her. “But we have to sell logs, sir.”
“I know it’s hard for you, especially with your father in prison, but this Depression is not going to be over in a hurry.” He leaned forward. “I was going to ask you to come in and see me, Lanie.”
“You were?”
“Yes, I was. I have a proposition to make.”
Hope came to Lanie. “I’ll do anything. If we have to come down on our prices for the hauling—”
“No, that’s over, at least for a while. I’m on the board at the bank, and I know about the note that your father owes there. It’s unfortunate, but you understand that if that note isn’t paid, the bank will have to foreclose.”
Lanie could not think of a single thing to say. She had been frightened in her life a few times, but never like this!
Finally Langley said, “It’s going to be very difficult, if not impossible, for you to hang onto your place with that note hanging over you like it is. It has to be paid every month. I’m sure you know that. And with your father unable to work, I just don’t think you’re going to be able to do it.”
“But we’ve got to do something!”
“Yes, you do, and here’s what I propose: You have five acres and a house. I’d like to buy that property from you. I think, Lanie, that I could offer you enough to pay off your note at the bank, and you’ll have some money left over.”
“But where would we live, Mr. Langley?”
“Well, that’s a problem you’re going to have to solve, I’m afraid. Don’t you have any relatives that can take you in?”
“No, sir. No close relatives.”
“Well, something will have to be worked out.” Langley stood up, and he seemed big and ominous to Lanie. She had to look up to face him. “This is the best thing for you, young lady. No property is worth as much as it was with the way prices are dropping. But I’ll guarantee that you’ll be clear of the loan at the bank and that you’ll have enough money, perhaps, to buy a smaller place.”
Lanie knew what she had to do. “Thank you, Mr. Langley, but we’ve got to hang onto the place. It’s all Daddy has. When he gets out of prison, he’s got to have some place to come home to.”
“Be reasonable, child,” Langley said impatiently. “It’s going to be a long time before your father gets out of the penitentiary. By that time you’ll be grown, and your brothers and sisters will be grown. Everything will be changed. But you must remember that the note is due, and if it isn’t paid, then the bank will foreclose.”
Lanie could not stand being in the office for another moment. She said faintly, “Thank you, Mr. Langley,” and turned to leave.
As she opened the door, he called out, “You think it over, Lanie, and you’ll see it’s the best thing to do.”
Outside, the cold struck Lanie, but she did not feel it.
“I’ve got to talk to Miss Effie,” she said aloud.
Lanie was grateful to sit, for her legs were weaker than ever. Her voice was unsteady as she told Effie Johnson about her meeting with Mr. Langley.
Finally she said, “I don’t know what to do, Miss Johnson. I just don’t know. We can’t lose our place. We just can’t!”
Effie Johnson exchanged glances with Cora, who was standing beside Lanie’s chair. “We’ll do something. We Baptists have to stick together, don’t we?”
“I’m so scared! I don’t know what to do.”
Effie Johnson had the reputation of being one of the most hard-nosed women in Fairhope. Those who tried to best her in business found themselves faced with a carnivore of sorts. But now her voice was soft. “I’ve been thinking about what to do ever since the stock market fell. I saw this coming.”
“Please, ma’am, I don’t understand it, but we’ve got to keep our place.”
Effie Johnson folded her hands and set them in her lap. “All right.
Here’s what we’ll do. We’ll sell the equipment for whatever it will bring.
I’ll get the very best prices for you. Bob Haynes will help me. It’s still valuable equipment. It won’t bring what your father paid for it new, but it’ll bring the note down to about a hundred dollars a month.”
“A hundred dollars! That’s a lot of money.”
“I know it is, but it’s the best we can do now. We’ll make out a new note. It won’t be due for a month. You have enough money in your account to pay a note of a hundred dollars a month for at least three or four months. By that time something will have to be worked out.”
Lanie’s eyes filled with tears. She whispered, “Thank you, Miss Johnson. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You go on home now, and don’t you worry about this.”
Lanie suddenly went over to Effie and put her arms around her. “Th
ank you,” she whispered.
Effie Johnson had not received many caresses, and Lanie’s gesture startled her. She awkwardly put her arms around the girl, patted her, and said huskily, “You go on now. Remember, you’ve got friends and you’ve got the Lord Jesus.”
Effie left the bank and walked directly to Orrin Pierce’s office. He was sitting in a chair, leaning back, staring at the ceiling. He got up at once. “Hello, Effie, what’s going on?”
“Bad news.” Effie, without sitting down, told Orrin the story. “We’ve got to help those children.”
A scowl marred Orrin’s handsome face. “You know what it’s all about, don’t you?”
“I’ve got a good idea. Langley’s out to get the Freeman place.”
“That’s right. He’s always been mad about Lanie winning the grand prize over Roger.”
“Yes, and he knows that one day those five acres will be a valuable property. It’ll be right in the center of town if Fairhope grows.”
They rapidly laid out plans, and finally Orrin nodded. “I’m glad you’re on the side of those children.” Pain filled his eyes. “You know, times like this I wish I were a praying man.”
“You could be, Orrin.”
“I don’t know about that. I may have missed my chance.”
Effie Johnson stared at him. “God’s always at home. All you have to do is invite Him in.”
“Maybe sometime I will, Effie, but we can’t wait for that. Let’s stay on top of this thing. Forrest is a good man, and he’s helpless.”
Effie left the office, and Orrin looked back at the ceiling. “If I were a praying man, I’d pray for Otis Langley to break his neck!”
THE HOMEPLACE Page 17
