Jess sat facing the pulpit—or place of doom—where she would, once and for all, officially make a fool of herself for all to see. Was this the way prisoners felt when they were headed to their execution? She didn’t turn around to see the growing crowd behind her, but she could hear them getting louder as more people collected in the pews. There was intermittent laughter, which always sounded scarier when you weren’t in on the joke, or worse, the subject of the joke. She could hear what sounded like a crowd that was larger than the Christmas service, could smell their smoky clothes and sweet perfumes as they scrambled to get what few seats were left.
With one sweeping glance, she saw that people were standing in the back, and her eyes scanned a mostly faceless crowd, until she saw Stephanie and her mother in their usual place toward the back. She was relieved to know that Stephanie was okay. But of course her mother would make them attend the service today, Jess thought with a sick feeling. She turned back to the front where she tried to resume breathing in and out…
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Marla Gibbons, who always dragged her husband closer to the front than he liked, but where she always insisted they’d be closer to God. She didn’t see P.J. Dalton in his usual spot up front. It would have been nice to see one cheerful face up there.
Instead of waiting until the end of the service for the scripture reading as he typically did, her dad chose the time reserved for his sermon to introduce his daughter.
“There’s been some talk in this town,” he began. “And sometimes a rumor, no matter how ugly and sick, can get passed around so much it appears to be the truth. But that doesn’t make it the truth!” He banged his fist against the pulpit, cracking part of it at last and embedding splinters in his hand. “I’d like to believe we can find the truth only with the Lord. That’s why my daughter, Jess, is going to share a special passage with y’all today. She knows the truth, and she’s gonna set the record straight by letting the Lord’s words flow through her.”
He motioned for her to come up.
Jess approached the pulpit with trepidation, smelling the old wood of it and the furniture wax that coated it. Her father’s splintered hand was resting on it, bleeding lightly on its top. He paid no attention to it. The moment was so tense, so loaded, that she thought if the cross had accidentally fallen off the back wall and split his head open, he would have still continued with the service.
Her dad stepped back to give her the floor, and silence fell on the church.
Chapter Eighty
Jess’s vision blurred as she looked out at the sea of watching faces, and she gripped the podium to steady herself. When she finally let go, her hands trembled so much she could hardly open the book. She leaned forward toward the microphone, looking at her father, and with all the resolve and determination she could muster, said softly, “I picked out a different one. I hope you don’t mind.”
Reverend Aimes seemed mildly alarmed but nodded at her.
Jess’s mouth was so dry it seemed to be filled with tumbleweeds. She began, “From…Lev…Lev…Leviticus.”
She glanced at Stephanie in the back row.
Upon hearing Jess’s words, Stephanie lowered her eyes, a tear falling down her face; she didn’t bother to brush it away.
“A man…shall not…” Jess swallowed. “Shall not lie with another…man.”
Her dad smiled a little; he seemed to appreciate what he believed she was trying to say to the crowd. She caught a glimmer of pride on his face. He nodded again, as if to cheer her on.
“It is an…abomination,” she read.
Abilene’s chin raised higher in the air. She seemed to approve of this show.
Jess’s father stepped forward again, but she wasn’t done.
If the crowd could have seen over Jess’s shoulder, they would have seen not her father’s Bible, but Stephanie’s, with all of the highlighted passages. “You shall not fert…fertilize your…crops…with two kinds of seed.”
Stephanie looked up, as if jolted awake. Jess met her eyes; the light streaming in from the windows was sparkling inside them.
These words had never been spoken in this church before. Stephanie was watching Jess like she was her hero, her smile spreading fast.
Her father stepped in. “That’s good, sweetheart,” he said softly.
But she wouldn’t stop.
“You shall be put to death for adultery,” she paraphrased, feeling her voice getting stronger.
There were murmurs throughout the church.
“You shall not eat shellfish!” she shouted, looking directly at her mother, whose face blanched, her expression unreadable.
“That’s enough,” her father warned.
“No! It’s not enough!” she shouted back at him, prompting the church members to start talking louder amongst themselves. “We never read enough!”
She saw her brother Danny in the front row, his mouth hanging open. She couldn’t be sure what he was thinking until he raised his hand and gave her a thumbs-up sign. She thought she saw the beginnings of a smile on his face.
Jess squeezed in as much as she could before the reverend took the microphone from her. She held up the Bible and shouted whatever she could remember.
“Your male and female slaves are to come from the nations around you; from them you may buy slaves!” She had to shout to get above the chatter in the church.
Her dad faced her squarely, his eyes yellowing almost like that of a wolf. Jess had never seen such hatred in him. No more calmness. He was full-on the wild man from the shed now. And she was the enemy. She had always been his enemy, it seemed, quietly waiting for a day like this to come.
It wasn’t so much what she’d done last fall; she probably could have slept with twenty girls as long as nobody knew about it. Today, though, she’d embarrassed him in public and that was a cardinal sin. In front of his congregation, his place in town society, his daughter was sending the message, loud and clear, that she didn’t respect him. There was no greater offense for her father. She knew it. And she knew he’d probably never forgive her. But she also knew she didn’t have a choice. Some things were worth breaking family bonds over.
He covered the microphone. “I don’t have a daughter anymore,” he said in a syrupy tone that was even more sinister because it was so out of place. But he kept his tone calm so as not to alert the congregation.
Her mother, oddly, did not look at her with the horror Jess expected. Was her mother in shock? Or was she relieved at not having to pretend to be some perfect conservative family, not having to care what anyone thought anymore? In a weird way, had Jess freed her?
Jess shouted, “Judge not, lest ye be judged!” She repeated it over and over again, and eventually some in the congregation joined her chant. “Judge not, lest ye be judged!” Most did not join in, of course, staring at her instead with gaping mouths like they were watching someone who would most certainly be on the local news later.
Jess walked down the center aisle, repeating the words over and over again. The faces she passed held a mixture of horror, pity and disbelief. For a moment, she felt like someone in a Hawthorne story in which the ultrareligious were getting ready to hang her. It was surreal, walking past all those faces blurred into one. She was lifting her voice in a way that she once feared, she was saying what she had to say—and it didn’t kill her. None of it had killed her. Her body grew lighter with every step down the aisle…
P.J., who was sitting near the back today, seemed to be struggling, his compassionate nature compelling him to regard her with kindness even as his eyes were darting around the room, sizing up others’ reactions, especially the hostile ones. She could see in one glance that he agreed with her. She could also see the forces that were preventing him from repeating the words or moving from his seat. She nodded, assuring him that she understood how dangerous it would have been for him.
As Jess approached Stephanie’s row, she silently begged her to come with her. Stephanie bit her lip. Jess’s heart ach
ed with the sudden awareness that she couldn’t abandon her mother. Despite the power of her personal convictions, despite showing Jess that life could be whatever she made it—she too was going to remain seated.
Stephanie shifted uncomfortably—and Jess spotted fresh bruises on her forearms before she pulled her sleeves down to cover them. She wanted to take Stephanie by the hand and run out the door with her into the free air where they could finally just be. But she saw Stephanie’s mother tighten her grip on her and heard her whisper, “Don’t leave me! Don’t you dare leave me!” She looked at her daughter, not in a threatening way, but begging her.
Jess understood. Ms. Greer was the child in this family and her daughter needed to take care of her. She tried to smile at Stephanie, to let her know it was all right, as she continued her march to the exit. Though painful, it felt good to leave the church, even alone. When the sun touched her face, she could feel the heavy chains that once held her dropping away. Her love for Stephanie had helped her to find her voice and to decide for herself what was right and what was real. Moving ever more confidently, she strode into her future, listening to the muffled sounds of the congregation singing as her father tried to regain control of the service. She smiled, knowing the bouncy music of the little organ couldn’t erase what had just happened. She’d gotten as far as the parking lot when it occurred to her—she had no idea what came next, where she would go or how she would get there.
She looked up at the deep blue sky, then noticed the church steeple above her. Maybe it was the sun’s position in the sky this time of year, but for whatever reason, today it was casting no shadow. Even if it was a coincidence, she decided to take that as a sign.
She smiled to herself again and began walking. She knew she needed to steer clear of the road, to walk back in the woods where no “church cars” would spot her. It didn’t matter. Somehow she’d make it. This would be one long hike, but it made no difference if it was from here to the moon.
Chapter Eighty-One
“Arlene?” Carolyn peeked around the corner and there in the living room was an older version of the woman she had once known, sitting in front of a steaming mug of what looked like hot tea. She motioned Carolyn inside.
“She isn’t here.”
“Is Stephanie with her?” Carolyn asked.
“No. At least I don’t think so. I told her not to.”
“We should talk,” Carolyn said.
“No.” Arlene stood up and took her mug to the kitchen counter, where she added enough whiskey to make it count.
“I think we should.” Carolyn’s voice was gentle, even empathetic.
When she returned to the couch, Carolyn sat down beside her.
“I’m sorry,” Arlene said. “I didn’t offer you anything.”
“I’m fine.” Carolyn spoke calmly, considering the circumstances, with her hands tightly clasped together in her lap. Flashes of herself and Dan in the early days zipped through her mind—how she’d fallen for his face, his understated masculinity. He had a quiet charm and strength that, through the years, had revealed itself to be not charm or strength, but a compulsive need to control everyone and everything in his world. She realized that she’d become another one of those things he needed to control. He used her loyalty to him and their marriage as a way to coerce her into agreeing to things that she really didn’t agree with. She had prided herself on her rationality. How could she have lost her mind this way? The only times that had happened were when she’d fallen in love. Love could make her take leave of her rational self at any time. It was frightening, actually, though it hadn’t happened often—and only once with a man.
She’d never felt so alone in her life, sitting on Arlene’s nubby couch and contemplating joining her in having an afternoon whiskey, not because she wanted one, but because it offered the chance to spend some time with her. She leaned closer and touched Arlene’s hand, craving connection. When she felt her flinch, she patted it like the old friend she had been.
“I guess I’m still…embarrassed?” Arlene didn’t seem to understand her own reaction.
“You needn’t be.” Carolyn always knew the right thing to say, though she herself teetered on the edge of uncertainty.
The day that Jess brought Stephanie over ten years after she’d moved away…Carolyn had pretended otherwise, but of course she had remembered her. She had used the poison ivy as an excuse not to break the girls up but to never have to come in contact with Arlene again. Arlene, an intriguing woman, had made an advance toward her one afternoon while the girls were playing upstairs. Carolyn had rebuked her, and Arlene had felt humiliated and embarrassed. They had maintained a rocky relationship until the Greers left town shortly thereafter.
Drawn to other females at a time when that simply wasn’t an option, Carolyn didn’t even know she was capable of falling for a man until Dan. He was her chance to be happy and respectable in her mother’s eyes and she’d seized it as quickly as she could. She damned herself for sitting by and watching her youngest child struggle despite what she knew about herself. But she’d felt helpless to do anything more.
“I want my daughter to be happy,” Carolyn said, almost like a mantra.
Arlene shook her head, obviously wrestling with the issue, seemingly unaware of the irony, how the two of them hadn’t gone down the road their daughters were going. “I don’t want that life for Steph.”
Carolyn could see she meant it, though she knew of Arlene’s own yearning all these years. She’d catch a look, a glance from her, whether in church or a store…How could she deny her own daughter’s happiness?
“Do you know where Stephanie is?” Carolyn asked.
“No idea,” Arlene replied, taking a sip of her drink. “But she sure as hell probably wants to stay away from me.”
Carolyn reached out to her once more. This time Arlene didn’t jump. She took Arlene’s hand and squeezed it. “She needs you.”
With that, Carolyn rose from the couch and headed toward the door. Was it the pain of what she couldn’t have or her own self-loathing that drove Arlene to the liquor store every night? Carolyn would never know for sure. She turned around, trying to offer reassurance.
“You did nothing wrong,” she told her. But Arlene wouldn’t make eye contact. “If I hadn’t been married…”
Arlene looked at her, waiting anxiously to see how she’d finish that sentence. Carolyn decided it was best not to finish it. “Take care of yourself,” she said finally.
As she drove home, she could barely see the road for the waves of tears that were obscuring her vision. They rarely ran into one another now, but she’d take great care not to see Arlene anymore. It conjured too many uncomfortable feelings that she’d thought she left behind. The woman whose eyes locked on hers when they first met, when their daughters had a play date…Carolyn wiped her face and took a deep breath. To the outside world, it had to appear as if she had everything under control.
Living with Dan so long, she’d become accustomed to controlling things, especially those things that people didn’t talk about in small towns. The AIDS crisis had brought about a national conversation, but homosexuality still wasn’t accepted, especially not in Greens Fork. For that and so many other reasons, any uncertainty Carolyn had about her sexual proclivities would never be explored, much less made known to her husband or—God forbid—the public. But would she end up like Arlene one day, drinking away her desires, only to have them return?
Chapter Eighty-Two
For Dan Aimes, life was about those things he could count on every day, like beans for dinner. Lately, his kids were throwing him curve balls that he wasn’t prepared for. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control—and this latest scene felt like the final nail in his coffin. How would he ever recover from this?
As he shook the hands of his congregation outside on the steps after the service, he could feel everything they were probably thinking. He was a failure as a father and a preacher.
What made it
worse was the way every other family seemed to be fine, the way they’d all sit in church—the boys looking and acting like boys and the girls looking like girls. He imagined there were no fights in their households, even though Carolyn had said, “Who’s going to show their dirty laundry in church? All families have issues.”
Still, Dan preferred his fantasy family. Now he was grasping at the few shreds of control he had left. Next came the obligatory encounter with Abilene.
“It started out fine,” she said in her high-pitched voice. “But something got lost in translation, I think.” She smiled, trying to make a joke. Was she really trying to make him feel better?
“I’m so sorry about your grandson,” Dan said. It seemed the only appropriate response after the circus they’d all witnessed.
She patted his hand and in her typically phony fashion said, “Teenagers do all kinds o’ crazy things.” In her toothy grin right before she turned away, he could almost read her mind, feel the contempt radiating off her shriveled body. There would be some price to pay for this.
He could hear pieces of fragmented conversation in the parking lot, most of it blaming his wife.
“Well, when you marry some liberal, you can’t be sure your kids’ll be raised right.”
“No kiddin’.”
“She ain’t never had control over them kids.”
“You think the oldest is really outta town?”
“Who knows…”
He winced at what he once considered his flock, realizing he’d spent a great amount of time and effort trying to control their perception of him and his family, only to realize it had made no difference.
The church was not quite empty, but Dan decided to dispense with any further meet and greets and began putting hymnals back in the pockets behind each pew.
He wasn’t going to be like the older man he met once in a bar in Mississippi, a wrinkled heap on a stool who lamented the fact that his kids no longer spoke to him. Dan had refused to believe that could happen to him, not with God on his side. But now…he’d never forgive his younger daughter. And he didn’t even know where his older daughter was. At least he could hold on to his son.
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