“I’ll be taking up a lot of your time, Reverend.”
“Hey, you know I’ve never felt comfortable being called reverend. I know it’s a title a lot of preachers use. My dad was a preacher. Everybody just called him Brother Sandifer, or real close folks by his first name, Ed. Most of the folks in our church call me Brother Byron.”
“All right. And I’d really like to see the house.”
* * *
“Why, this is a fine old place!” Alona exclaimed, walking through the frame house that sat back about fifty feet from the street. It was dwarfed by towering walnut trees and had been well cared for. “And it’s got three bedrooms!” She opened the door to yet another room. “An indoor bathroom. We were almost getting used to having one outside.”
“Oh, my dear, this will be heaven, won’t it!” Hazel Sandifer said. “Byron, you make sure that the hot water heater is working.”
“Mrs. Cunningham told me everything’s working, but I’ll check it to be sure.” He grinned. “Do you need any furniture?”
“We’ll make out, Brother Byron.”
“You let me know if you need a bed or something. People always have extra stuff. We’ve got a garage full ourselves.”
“The ladies and I will come in and give the house a good cleaning before you move in,” Hazel said. “Then, when you get here, all you’ll need to do is unload and set up housekeeping.”
“That would be so wonderful, Mrs. Sandifer.”
“Oh, please call me Hazel.” The pastor’s wife was an attractive woman with a good figure, blond hair, and blue eyes. She and her husband made a striking couple.
“Brother Charles told me you and your family are real special people so we’d better treat you right,” Byron said with a grin and a wink. “So I guess I’ll have to do that.”
“He’s been so patient to wait back at the church for me all this time,” Alona said. “We’d better head back so he can get home.”
“I’m ready if you are,” Byron said. “Don’t worry about the house, and don’t worry about anything else. We’ll look forward to seeing you at church as soon as you’re moved.”
“Thank you, Brother Byron, Hazel. You’ve both been more than kind.”
****
Alona was pleasantly surprised at how easily the boys adjusted to a new town, a new church, and a new school. They had moved less than a week after her interview, and the boys did the standard complaining at first, but by mid-September, when they had been in school for two weeks, they appeared perfectly satisfied.
As for Alona, it was a huge relief to live in a house that was decent and easy to clean. The indoor plumbing was enough to make her feel rich. After his third bath in the indoor bathroom, Carl had complained, “We’re gonna wash all our skin off if you keep makin’ us take so many baths!”
Alona laughed. “I guess we did without a tub for so long I’m trying to catch up.”
The house was a delight to her, but the job was more difficult than she had expected. She had a fair amount of manual dexterity, but it had been difficult learning how to assemble the radio parts. An older lady named Bess Johnson had trained her. She was an impatient woman, but Alona had gotten to know her and had discovered that her impatience came from many years of enduring a bad marriage.
Raymond Atwood had come by her station to speak to her almost every day. He had a way of putting his hand on her shoulder from time to time that made her feel uneasy. He made it seem innocent enough, but Alona always wanted to pull away. She had to keep the job, however, and she hoped she was making more of the gesture than was there.
The First Baptist Church of Jonesboro had received her and her boys with warmth and enthusiasm. The church was a short walk from the house—less than ten minutes. The boys had immediately taken to the pastor’s sons and were spending a fair amount of time together. When Paul Root, the music director, had discovered that Alona had a strong, clear soprano voice and was an excellent sight reader, he had drafted her into the choir. She had protested, but he had teased, “I’ve got to have you, Mrs. Jennings. If you’ll come quietly, we won’t have any trouble.”
Alona had laughed at his imitation of a policeman and had become an enthusiastic member of the choir. Mr. Root was already pestering her about singing a solo.
On their fourth Sunday as members of the church, during the morning service, rolling thunder was followed by the drumming of rain upon the roof. After the service was over, those who had umbrellas took refuge under them; others ran holding purses over their heads, men pulling their hats down firmly.
Brother Byron was standing at the door watching the rain coming down in torrents, and when he turned and saw Alona and the boys coming, he exclaimed, “You can’t go home in this! You’ll get drenched.”
“We’ll just wait until it clears off, Brother Byron.”
“Well, according to my calculations, that will be a long wait. Stay here a minute. I’ll find you a ride.”
“Please don’t bother!”
“Yes, I think I’d better.” He went back into the church, leaving Alona and the boys waiting in the foyer. He came back in a few minutes with a rather short but powerfully built man with steel gray hair. “Mrs. Jennings, I’d like you to meet Oscar Moran. This is Mrs. Jennings and her boys.”
Moran smiled. “Yes, I know. I was there when she joined the church. I don’t believe you’ve missed a service, have you, Mrs. Jennings?”
“No, I haven’t. I’ve enjoyed the good preaching.”
“Yes, I’d have to agree. The pastor says you need a ride home.”
“I hate to be a bother. It’s not very far.”
“No bother at all. The hardest part will be getting into the car without getting drowned. You wait here and I’ll bring the car right out in front.”
“I’ve got some umbrellas here. I’ll get them out, Mr. Moran.”
She got the umbrellas out of her bag and the boys immediately started using them as swords. “What does Mr. Moran do?” Alona asked as the man went to get the car.
“He owns the foundry. He’s a widower. His wife died about four years ago. She had two daughters by a previous marriage when he married her. They’re both grown now.”
“He never remarried, then?”
“No, but he’s had enough chances. Look, there he comes. Plenty of room for you in that big Oldsmobile he drives. See you later, boys—get under those umbrellas or you’ll drown.”
Alona and the boys ran to the car, and when the doors were slammed shut, Moran said, “All aboard. Tell me which way to go.”
“Go down here and turn left on Oak Street, and I’ll direct you from there.”
“This is a big car,” Zac said. “It’s an Oldsmobile.”
Oscar Moran turned around and grinned at the boy, who was leaning over the front seat staring at the dashboard. “That’s right. You know your cars, young man.”
“I bet it’s got a big engine in it. How big is it?”
“Zac, don’t bother Mr. Moran.”
“Let the boy ask questions, Mrs. Jennings. How’s he going to learn?”
“That’s right, Ma. I’m gonna get me a big car like this one day.”
“What’s your name, son?”
“Zachary. But everybody calls me Zac.”
“Do you think you could drive this car, Zac?”
“Sure I could! My legs aren’t quite long enough yet, but I could do it.”
“And you fellows. What are your names?” Moran got their names and repeated them. “Well, you’ll all be driving cars like this one of these days.”
“I could drive this one,” Zac spoke up.
“Well, maybe you’ll get the chance some day. If you’re good boys, that is.”
“I’m always good,” Carl said.
“You are!” Moran was amused. “I don’t believe I ever met a boy that was always good.”
“Well, I am! Isn’t that right, Mom?”
“Almost always, Carl.” She smiled. “He is a good boy. But
not perfect, as he sometimes thinks.”
“You’ve got three fine boys.” Moran turned around for a quick glance at the boys. “When I was a younger man, I thought I’d have five or six just like these.”
“Don’t you have any boys, Mr. Moran?”
“No, but I’ve got two stepdaughters.”
“What’s a stepdaughter?” Carl asked.
He explained what a stepchild was. “When I met my wife, she was a widow with two teenage girls. My wife died a few years ago, and I never did have any children of my own.”
“Maybe you’ll have one someday,” Zac said.
“That’s not likely, son.”
Alona had been directing Moran as he drove, and finally she said, “It’s that house.”
“Oh, that’s Mrs. Cunningham’s place. A nice house.”
“She’s letting us have it rent free. So kind of her.”
“She’s a generous woman. Look, the rain’s almost stopped.” He stopped the car and then turned and named the boys off. “Let’s see. Tim, Zac, and Carl. Is that right? You boys take care of your mother.” He fished into his vest and pulled out a card. “Here, Mrs. Jennings.”
“What’s this?” she asked, taking the card. It said Moran Foundry, Oscar Moran, owner and president, along with a telephone number. “Any time you need any transportation just call me.”
“That’s very generous of you, but I hope I won’t have to do that.”
“It won’t be any trouble at all. I’m glad to have met you, Mrs. Jennings, and we’re delighted that you’ve come to be a member of our church.”
The boys got out, and Zac got the last word. “Don’t forget. Someday I’m going to get to drive your car.”
Moran laughed. “That’s right, son. You will.”
As Zac watched the car drive off, he said, “Gee, we can get a free ride anytime we want to, Mom.”
“No we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“We can’t impose on Mr. Moran.”
“But he said he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t have any kids or any wife to sit in that big old car. We might as well ride in it,” the boy announced.
Alona told him that they wouldn’t be needing any more rides, but Zac was still arguing when they entered the house.
CHAPTER SIX
A Heart for Boys
The Saturday afternoon practice for the Christmas pageant was going as well as could be expected, which meant that half of the children knew their lines and the other half didn’t. Alona sat halfway back in the sanctuary and watched as the pastor’s wife attempted to bring order out of chaos. She had watched the practices so many times that she knew all of the lines by heart, and now, except for those times when one of her three were speaking a line, she allowed her mind to drift.
The year had been difficult for the world. Alona thought often of the day that Truman had explained the meaning of a raincrow summer, how it would be followed by dangerous and hard times. She thought of how in August 1939, Germany and Russia had shocked diplomats everywhere by signing a nonaggression pact, which meant, as far as Alona understood it, that the German army, which was now the largest in the world, would be able to concentrate on the western front of Europe without worrying about fighting Russia on another front. They had already begun in September 1939 by invading Poland. This invasion broke twenty-one years of rather shaky peace in Europe, and the Germans had, with their blitzkrieg or lightning war, defeated Poland easily. Britain and France had declared war on Germany at once, but America stayed neutral.
With the world teetering on the brink of a war, the likes of which had never been seen, Alona read the papers each day and listened to the broadcasts with a sinking heart. She wondered how her boys might be affected if the war ever moved beyond Europe. She hoped it would never come to that.
Alona’s life had gotten somewhat easier since moving to Jonesboro. She was surprised to find that she was becoming quite good at assembling radio parts, and the steady income, with no rent payments, was easing the financial strain. She loved the house that she lived in and had paid a visit to Mrs. Cunningham to thank her personally and deliver some homemade bread. Mrs. Cunningham was in her late eighties but was in possession of all her faculties, and it had been a joy for Alona to visit with her and thank her for letting them have the house rent free. Mrs. Cunningham had told Alona that she had been widowed herself thirty years ago and understood the loneliness that came after being married to a good man.
The sound of Tim’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she quickly looked up as he delivered his lines. “We need a room, innkeeper.” She was proud of Tim. He was not outgoing enough to make a good actor, but he did his best. The thought occurred to her that Zac might have made a better Joseph. He would have banged energetically on the innkeeper’s door and boldly asked for a room. But he was too young for such a role and was thoroughly enjoying playing a shepherd boy.
When the rehearsal was over, she and the other few parents who had been watching applauded. She stood up and waited while the boys gathered around her, grinning broadly.
“You are doing so well. All of you.”
“Aw, it’s duck soup, Mom,” Carl boasted. Which it was, since he had only one line to speak.
The four of them started out of the church and were intercepted by Oscar Moran. “Hello. How are you fellows tonight?”
“Great, Mr. Moran,” Zac said, speaking for the others. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, Zac.” Moran turned and said, “How are you, Mrs. Jennings?”
“Very well. I’ve been watching the rehearsal.”
“I caught a little of that before the deacons’ meeting. You fellows did fine. It’s going to be a great pageant.”
“If they don’t forget their lines,” Alona said with a smile.
“Aw, Mom, we never forget our lines. That’s those other dumb kids,” Zac announced.
“Don’t call kids dumb,” Alona reprimanded him.
“That’s right,” Mr. Moran said. “You must always be polite.” He turned to Alona. “It’s cold outside. Let me give you and the boys a ride home.”
Before Alona could speak, Zac popped up. “Mr. Moran, maybe we should stop and get some ice cream cones at Stanley’s Drugstore.”
“Zac, where are your manners?” Alona admonished. “Besides, we have the chocolate cake at home that I made last night.”
“Why, I think ice cream is a fine suggestion,” Oscar said. “Or maybe we should get something even bigger. Like a chocolate sundae or a strawberry milk shake. You know,” he said, sounding serious, “I’ve often wondered how much ice cream a boy could eat. Never have found out. Maybe I could experiment on you.”
“Sure,” Zac said instantly. “I’d be glad to be an experiment!”
“Me too!” Carl said. “Let’s experiment with a vanilla shake and see how many I can eat.”
“Boys, you stop that!” Alona scolded. “You sound like beggars.”
“Not at all,” Moran protested, shaking his head. “Perhaps we might find out how much ice cream the mother of three boys can hold as well.”
“I appreciate your offer, Mr. Moran, and your generosity, but I think I’ll hold out for chocolate cake myself. Would you like to join me for some after we stop at the drugstore?”
“That would be absolutely delightful, Mrs. Jennings.”
“Please just call me Alona.”
“I will, and you must call me Oscar,” he said as they made their way to the coatrack. “By the way, that’s an unusual name—Alona. Where did your parents get it?”
“My mother read that in Hebrew it’s the word for an oak tree. She wanted me to be a strong woman, so they tagged me with it. I’ve spent most of my life spelling it for people and trying to explain it.”
“I think it’s a lovely name, and I am looking forward to sampling your chocolate cake.”
The trip to the drugstore settled very little about the capacity of boys. All three of them were able to consume both the sun
dae and the milk shake that the soda jerk had set before each of them. After the shake, Alona insisted that was enough and they all piled in the car again to go back to the house.
Alona found Moran’s attachment to her boys rather touching. She knew he felt affection for boys in general, and he had been more than generous with her boys in particular. More than once he had taken them home, insisting on stopping to get something good to eat each time.
* * *
As the group entered the house, Oscar walked in but stopped immediately as Buddy came bounding forward. He took a step back, explaining, “I’m afraid I’m allergic to some kinds of animals. All cats and some dogs. My eyes tear up and I sneeze like crazy if I get too much animal hair on me.”
“Buddy, you’ll have to go outside,” Alona said as she took Oscar’s coat and hat. Buddy gave her a hurt look and his head drooped as Tim let him out.
“Why, he actually looks crushed!” Oscar said with astonishment. “He looks like we’ve hurt his feelings.”
“He’s very sensitive,” Alona explained. “He’ll go outside and pout for a while, but he’ll be all right.”
“When he stays in the house and gets his feelings hurt,” Zac added, “he goes over and faces the wall and won’t come away until somebody sweet talks him out of it.” He grinned. “He always gets over it, though.”
“Come into the kitchen.” Alona smiled. “It’s warmer there, and cleaner too. I haven’t had time to do much housecleaning.”
“Don’t worry about that. A good chocolate cake makes up for all kinds of housecleaning.”
Alona led the way into the kitchen and indicated where Oscar should sit. The boys sat down as well, following Alona’s every move as she got out the cake and served it onto two plates.
“Mom,” Zac asked, “how come you only got out two plates?”
“You can’t possibly want cake after all that ice cream!”
“Sure we do,” Tim insisted. “I’ve got one little corner left that’s not full.”
“Me too!” Carl said. “And give me the biggest piece.”
“You’re a hog! That’s what you are!” Zac snapped. “Give me the biggest piece!”
The Widow's Choice Page 6
