A Far Piece to Canaan

by Sam Halpern

  The women just stood around in their dark dresses like they were made out of oak, every now and then mopping their wrists or faces with white handkerchiefs because they were sweating hard while the sun, which never let up, melted them. They were all there except Mom and Lisa Shackelford and they had gone over the night before to pay their respects and make food. Everybody understood that somebody else from their families would go to the funeral.

  The little breeze that had been blowing when we started down the corn rows stopped all of a sudden and there was dead quiet except for the preacher’s voice. Not a cricket or grasshopper or bird made any noise. If you moved your foot, everybody heard the crunch in the red-hot sand so didn’t anybody move.

  “. . . come here out of Madison County almost twenty-five year ago. He was young then, young and strong as a bull, and he wudn’t scared of nothin’. I remember hit well because we met and was young men together. We had a lot of good times. I remember that revival we was at when I declared for Christ. I started preaching after that and Alfred kept on workin’ out for people and one day he met Mamie and it wudn’t no time ’til he said he wanted t’ get married and would I do th’ job. Well, sir, I felt privileged and th’ next week, I married them.”

  While Brother Taylor was talking, the flaming hot air was getting sticky wet from the steam that rose up from the river, which was just a little way off. People moved their heads around trying to pick up some air but it didn’t work. No breeze at all. Just heat. The men were wearing ties and you could see the sweat trickle down to their collars and seep through into the front of their shirts which were sopping so you could see chest hair matted down underneath. It just kept getting hotter and hotter until the sun was one great ball of terrible fire. Brother Taylor went on and on in his big black suit which was soaked through with sweat and I knew he had to be dying inside it but it was Alfred’s send-off and he was going to get what was coming to him. Folks kept shifting from side to side and every now and then one of the men would make a move toward his tie then stop because somehow Brother Taylor would be looking right at him. Most anybody got away with was Bess Clark running his finger around the inside of his collar. The ladies were fanning harder now, their hair sweating and sagging, and you could see straps through their wet clothes and hear a few gasping for air.

  And still Brother Taylor went on and on. “Old Alfred wudn’t much of a churchgoer, and I have t’ admit that ain’t good, but he done a lot of things t’ make up for hit. I remember back during that hard winter a few year ago he gave half his salt pork t’ some folks that wudn’t as well off as he was. And th’ Lord looks kindly on them kind of doin’s. He says so right here in this book,” and he raised his Bible. “It says here a man’s got t’ have charity and if he don’t have charity he ain’t nothin’. That’s what hit says here in this book. This book a God!” he yelled, and raised the Bible over his head.

  Just then, thunder rumbled down the river and was the first sound except for Brother Taylor in quite a while and people kind of looked scared.

  “And I am the resurrection and the light!” and the little thunder rolled again and the sky was getting darker through the haze in the Northwest. “And he that believeth in me though he were dead, yet shall he live . . .”

  The heat seemed to close in and crush us. I almost couldn’t touch my clothes they were so hot and the ground was burning my feet through my shoes and the sweat trickling into my eyes made everybody a blur, especially Brother Taylor, who was growing taller and straighter and stronger and louder and moving his arms slow upward, with his face all dark and hard and lips drawn back, his white teeth flashing as he spoke, and he kept going on and on and it kept getting hotter and hotter and the storm kept coming.

  “Comes th’ day of judgment th’ graves are gonna open up. That’s what the Lord tells us and he didn’t say maybe they was, he said they was goin’ to.” The rumbles in the thunderhead grew a little louder and I could see the first jagged flashes of lightning and I knew the earth was waiting for the storm to cool and save it.

  “And the seas . . . the seas will deliver up th’ dead and God Almighty is gonna judge them, and he’s gonna put th’ sheep on his right hand and th’ goats on his left and woe, woe to th’ sinner ’cause they are gonna be condemned to everlastin’ fire and damnation . . .” and both his arms was over his head now as he stood over the casket, his eyes glowing, his long, bony fingers sticking out like steel rods from his skinny wrists.

  The lightning flashes were brighter now and beginning to be a little more jagged and longer and coming more often and Jennie Dee Wallace said a little soft amen that quivered some and then several of the ladies took it up, “Amen, amen,” and Brother Taylor went on.

  “And we know th’ evil, the Lord tells us th’ evil, tells us about Satan and his power, power of darkness . . .” and LD’s daddy yelled, “Yes, Brother. Satan’s always there temptin’ th’ righteous!” and the thunder rolled deeper and longer and people’s eyes were wide and all the women were saying, “Amen” and some of the men too and Brother Taylor, who had put his arms down, shot them out stiff over his head and said:

  “Lord, let righteousness come,” and a cool breeze blew in, the first air that stirred in a long time, and the women felt it and said, “Oh Lordy Jesus, thank you, thank you,” and the breeze picked up getting stronger and stronger, the thunderhead closing fast with the wind moving dust devils, swirling dirt into us, and some of the women went down on their knees, then the dust devils blew up and around Brother Taylor who was growing and talking upward and you knew who he was talking to and I was scared and I looked over at Dad and he was white and watching me. “And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die,” and a terrible crack of thunder come after a lightning bolt split the sky, and you could smell rain. “Amen . . . amen.”

  “And now my friends follow me in the Twenty-third Psalm. The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want . . . He maketh me . . .” and the biggest dust devil I ever seen come boiling through, scouring sand into our faces and mouths. “. . . lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me . . .” and lightning flitted five or six times quick on all sides of us with thunder crashes at the same time. “. . . still waters . . .” and the wind come, come hard like it was blowed out of the mouth of God flapping the edge of the coffin where it wudn’t tacked down good and Brother Taylor was a hunnert foot tall with his arms stretched commanding the storm. “… He restoreth . . .” and one of the women shrieked, “Oh Lord have mercy” that mixed into the thunder and flashes. “… in th’ path of righteousness, for his . . .” BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! And the lightning was leaping and spitting and twisting and the clouds boiling, wild, wild, wild. “… Yea, though I walk through th’ valley of th’ shadow of death, I will fear . . .” CRASH, BOOM and the coffin lid began flapping and banging and Bess reached out to push it down but it wouldn’t go so he started hammering the nail with his fist. Then the rain come, come in sheets and CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! and lightning split a tree above the river and fire flew everywhere and Bess leaped back wild-eyed and all the trees was crazy waving and Brother Taylor standing straight as an arrow with the wind and rain sweeping his black hair and his black coat fluttering out behind him. “… thy rod and thy staff, they comf . . .” and there was a terrible crash as three lightning bolts shot toward each other just over our heads, “Amen, amen, oh Lordy! Oh Lordy.” “… cup runneth over. Surely goodness and . . .” CRASH, CRASH! “… all th’ days of my life . . .”and the coffin lid started flapping harder and harder and Bess leaped up on top of it shouting, “Lower hit down . . . George . . . Pers . . . Morse . . . hep me lower hit down,” and Mamie was wild-eyed on her knees, then flopped straight out on her face. “Hep us, Ed . . .” and they slid it down in the hole and started putting dirt in which was mud now, some shoveling, some pushing with their hands and feet. “… Ashes t’ ashes and dust t’ dust . . . th’ Lord, giveth and th’ Lord taketh . . .” CRASH! “… be th’ name of th’ Lord!”

  44 />
  I woke up with a god-awful hangover and called room service for a pot of coffee, some aspirin, and a glass of tomato juice. An hour later I felt better and decided to visit the University of Kentucky, my brother’s alma mater.

  The campus was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the UK I remembered Bob and I wandering through in 1948. Gone were the wide spaces between the ancient buildings, many of which had heard the whine of musket balls. In 1948, deep ivy had covered the double layers of redbrick walls that black people laid long before their sons and daughters had been allowed to attend the school. The dense foliage was eventually found to conceal so many defects that the Kentucky legislature had budgeted for new construction. Now, gleaming metal and concrete reared skyward. The Emerald City with a Southern drawl.

  I didn’t feel a connection to the new Oz. I walked across the parade ground, which was now much smaller than when my brother Bob and I had stood watching the ROTC march. The cadets had thrilled me. I had wanted to be one of them. I remembered how conflicted I felt during Vietnam and the hurt I caused Bob as I argued against the war. Those times tested both of us. I idolized him as a kid. He had fought in the war that saved civilization and survived. He was the fastest tobacco cutter in the neighborhood, a great boxer, loved the outdoors, and often took me with him on his outings. He gave me my first baseball glove, which I kept for thirty years. I lost it during a move and remain saddened by its absence. Then, of course, there was the bike, which I used all the way through college. We shared so many things, things to which no one else was privy. I felt a great sense of loss as I thought about Bob, my sisters, and Mom and Dad. Being the sole surviving member of a family is painful. Watching them fall one by one was like having pieces of my heart cut away. Fortunately, Nora was always there to give me the strength to endure. Somebody has to help you overcome loss or you never completely heal. I had learned this as a child because . . .

  . . . After Alfred’s funeral, Fred just stayed away from everybody. I went to the Mulligans’ several times during September and nobody was around. I figured Mamie and Thelma Jean was at Bea and Pers’. Annie Lee was with WK and Fred was off wandering the hills. I quit going to the Mulligans’, then, first Saturday in October, I tried again. This time, Mamie come to the door.

  “Hidey, Samuel,” she said soft.

  “Hi,” I said. “Fred home?”

  “Naw, honey, he’s out lookin’ for timber t’ cut for winter.”

  “Think he’ll see me?”

  Mamie thought for a few seconds. “Naw, don’t think so. Hit’s still too soon. Fred’s just natural slow that way, you know how down he gets. Come in and set a spell.”

  I didn’t want to but I did. It was strange in the living room. Everything was still there, the bed, stove, Mamie’s chair, little peeling table with the humpback radio and the no-back. A breeze coming through the window kept fluttering a torn part of one drape and occasionally it would hang on the radio dial, which was still tuned to WLEX, the station where the Reds played. I must’ve been looking sad because Mamie said, “Lonesome, hain’t it.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “You still listen t’ th’ Reds?”

  She shook her head slow. “Can’t. Batt’ry’s dead.”

  Then we just sat. It was like standing at a grave after everybody’s left the funeral.

  “What’s going on down your way?” Mamie asked, motioning me to sit on the no-back.

  “Nothin’,” I answered, and kept standing.

  Mamie nodded. “Go ’head ’n’ sit on hit, honey. Alfred ain’t gonna haint you. G’won, have a seat,” and I did, but just barely on the edge. “How’s your ma and pa?”

  “Okay.”

  She smiled at me because she knew I was bothered. “How’s th’ rest of th’ fambly?”

  Her smile relaxed me and I slipped further onto the no-back. “Debby’s in California.”

  “How’s Naomi?”

  “Naomi’s gettin’ capped around Christmas. She’s gonna get through nurse’s trainin’.”

  “That’s great,” said Mamie. “How’s Bob?”

  I really brightened up. “Bob’s got a job for when he’s graduated. Good one too!”

  “Graduated!” and her voice rose. “Well, I swan! Seems like he just got back from th’ war. Ain’t been going t’ college all that long, has he?”

  I liked talking about my big brother. It made me feel good. “He had some college before th’ war. That’s how come he finished so quick.”

  Mamie shook her head again. “Seems like yesterday y’all were runnin’ that trot line.” The breeze flipped the drape until it covered the whole radio and Mamie walked over and unhooked it, then snapped the on dial. No sound come out, and she snapped it off, then turned back to me with tears in her eyes. The grooves in her face were deep and her stringy brown hair hung straight. “Hit wudn’t fair things a-happenin’ t’ us this way. We had our show comin’ t’ us . . . t’ Alfred.” She let out a big sigh, and the breeze flipped the drape, making a pop.

  Suddenly, I felt terrible. I had to get out of the Mulligan house. “How long you figure it’ll be before Fred comes around?”

  “Hard t’ say,” she sniffed. “Try back again next weekend. He’s doin’ some better ’n’ seeing as how y’all are best friends, that might work.”

  I went out through the kitchen and climbed the gate. From its top, I could see Thelma Jean walking slow up the road from Pers’. I waved to her, but she just kept putting one bare foot in front of the other, heel to toe, like she never saw me.

  The walk home was nice. Leaves were changing fast. Everywhere you looked was Life Everlasting. Squirrels were working hickory and walnut and oak trees harder than I’d ever seen. Flocks of ducks went south, one after another. The signs were talking about winter and they said it would be long and hard.

  When I got back to the house, Dad was further down than ever. I didn’t know why until late that night when talk from their bedroom woke me up. Their voices mumbled but I could hear them pretty good. They were talking about Mr. Berman.

  “How can he say that?” said Mom. “Who else would take care of his shitting farm the way we do? He gives us every third lamb and he thinks he’s being generous? Doesn’t he realize that usually a third die, sometimes along with the ewes, and you save almost every one?”

  Springs squeaked and I figured Dad turned over. “Nate’s a city boy. I’m his first tenant.”

  “Well, why don’t you tell him?”

  “Tell him what? He’s too damn ignorant to understand.”

  “What exactly did he say, anyway?”

  There was a thump, and I knew Dad put his arm behind his neck and hit the headboard.

  “He said he didn’t like the arrangement and that it had to change. The most he would give us was every fourth lamb and none of the wool. He wants me to plant double the corn and put in a trench silo. He said he read about it in Successful Farming and that with it he can run double the number of cattle he has in the past.”

  “Trench silo? I didn’t think trench silos worked around here.”

  “They don’t. The water table is too high. We tried those years ago when I first came to Kentucky and worked for Mr. Farnsworth. The silage just molds and you lose it all.”

  “Did you tell him that?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, what did he say?” Mom snapped, and her voice was tired.

  Dad sighed real deep. “He said those were th’ dark ages. That I ought to read Successful Farming and learn some of th’ new stuff. He talked about corn pickers and combines.”

  “Why would we even want a corn picker or combine here?” asked Mom. “We only raise fifteen acres of corn. As rough as the ground is, we’d tear up the corn picker. And a combine? The only grain we raise is eight acres of oats, and we get that baled. Corn pickers! Combines! We don’t even own a tractor!”

  “Yeah.” Dad giggled. It was the first time in months he had done that but I knew it wudn’t a happy giggle.

  “Did y
ou tell him that?”

  “I tried to. He said th’ Wallace boy didn’t think it was dumb.”

  “The Wallace boy?” and Mom’s voice sounded like she couldn’t believe him.

  “Yeah, Rags’ oldest wants th’ place. Turns out, he’s been putting a bug in Nate’s ear. He’s gettin’ married and needs a farm to rent. He’d have his dad and brother right up the road for things like tobacco housing and stripping. Good deal for a kid. Big tobacco base.”

  Mom snorted. “Yes, and Nate would find out some things too. His cattle and sheep would quit making money when he didn’t have you taking care of them. A shmozzle of Nate.”

  I turned my head into the pillow and stopped listening. Wow, what would we do if we left Berman’s? Everything was changing.

  I couldn’t sleep so I thought about Joy West and what had just happened at school. Joy and I had always talked to each other, but this year we talked more than ever. It was weird how we’d keep meeting. We’d bump into each other seven or eight times a day. One day, Miz Callen asked for kids to help set up chairs in the auditorium before the Future Farmers meeting and sent Joy and me to the school storehouse to see how many chairs there were if we needed extra. The storehouse was a piece down the road from school and we skipped along laughing and talking, her telling me about their trip that summer to Lookout Mountain in Tennessee. On the way back we sat down under a big maple. It was a great day, real clear, and the fall breezes were blowing like they always do in Indian summer and fluttering Joy’s blouse and making her long black hair stream away from her shoulders or wrap around her face. Somehow, and I really don’t know how, we kissed each other. My heart pounded and my whole body seemed to shake a little as I looked into her eyes and she smiled. Then she said we had better be getting back. That was the first person I ever kissed outside of my family and I couldn’t get it off my mind. Alone in the dark I started to tingle all over with an electric feeling and wanted to kiss her and hold her and see the wind blow her hair across her face.