Different Drummers

by Jean Houghton-Beatty

  As strange and out of place as she felt, Kathleen desperately wanted to talk. After all, she’d come all the way from England to be with her husband, and to suffer through this first meal with his family in complete silence was almost more than she could bear.

  “I’m looking forward so much to seeing Bob,” she began. “Do you know exactly when he’ll be coming home? I can’t wait to see him.”

  “I reckon he’ll be here when he gets here.” Otis Conroy spoke without looking at her, his gaze still on the wall. “That’s if he don’t take it into his head to go somewhere else. That Bobby ain’t never been all that reliable.”

  Kathleen’s fork stopped on its way to her mouth as she stared at the man. No smile had crossed his face but surely this was his idea of a joke.

  “Now, Daddy,” Selma said with a coy grin, “don’t you be frightenin’ Kathleen like that. She ain’t laid eyes on Bobby for months and you know she must be longin’ to see him. Ain’t that right Kathleen?”

  Kathleen nodded, then cleared her throat. “It seems like forever since I’ve seen him. Still, not much longer now. I just wish he’d warned me about the heat. I can’t ever remember a day this hot in England and it’s only early June.”

  When nobody spoke, she plodded on. “By the way, did you receive the letters my mother and I wrote to you? I ask only because when no reply came we thought they may have gone astray.”

  “Pass the greens,” Otis said to his wife.

  “Yeah, they came,” Selma said. “Momma, she ain’t much good at readin’ or writin’. And Daddy, well Daddy’s that busy with his church work he don’t have much time for nothin’ else. Ain’t that right, Daddy?”

  “That’s right Selma, honey. Our congregation’s growin’. Jesus has been good to us, He surely has.”

  Kathleen blinked. “You mean you have a church?”

  “Yes ma’am, I surely do.”

  Selma helped herself to more peas. “What Daddy means is his brother is the preacher at the Holiness Church of Jesus on the edge of town. Well, Daddy’s that good at preachin’. When he’s up in that pulpit the whole congregation gets all fired up. Uncle Homer, he lets him preach there a lot. Ain’t that right, Daddy?”

  “Yes Selma, honey, that certainly is a fact. When I get them folks in the spirit, I can feel Jesus just amovin’ all around that fine old church.”

  Otis Conroy fixed his magnetic eyes on Kathleen. “And what faith are you? When we held hands to give thanks to Jesus for this food, you acted downright surprised. Is this not a custom with your family?”

  She scraped her chair a few inches to the left, distancing the space between them.

  “Not exactly. My family isn’t all that religious, except for my mother. Mum goes to Mass a couple of times a week. She’s always trying to make good Catholics out of the rest of us. Dad’s always teasing her. He tells her she makes up for all of us.”

  Kathleen hesitated as the muscles in Otis Conroy’s jaw twitched and his lips set in a firm straight line.

  “I haven’t been to mass in ages,” she continued, “but I do like to go every now and then. Is there a Catholic church close by? When I get a chance, I’d like to visit the priest and introduce myself.”

  Her father-in-law ground out the words between clenched teeth. “I, we didn’t know Bobby had married a Catholic. We thought you were a Christian.”

  Kathleen’s knife slipped out of her hand and clattered onto her plate. “What do you mean you thought I was a Christian? Of course I am. I just told you I was Catholic.”

  Otis Conroy’s leaned toward her. “Yes, you did. And I’m tellin’ you Catholics ain’t Christians. People who worship an idol, and a woman idol at that, can’t call themselves Christian. Didn’t you know that? They ain’t been saved. They ain’t been born again.”

  “What do you mean by born again? I’ve never heard the expression before.”

  The man’s mouth twisted into a sneer as he slowly shook his head. “Born again ain’t just an expression. It’s a way of life.” His tone changed from angry to almost wheedling and he closed his fanatic’s eyes. “I’m hearin’ a message here straight from Jesus. It’s comin’ through loud and clear. He’s tellin’ me there’s hope for you, Kathleen. We can save your poor lost soul. Yes ma’am, you can be born again.”

  He reached out and placed his clammy hand on top of hers and it was all she could do not to snatch it away.

  “I think I’m doing all right.” She prayed her voice sounded normal, that they couldn’t see she was dying inside. “I don’t want to change my religion. My family’s always been Catholic. Thanks very much though.”

  She turned away from Otis Conroy, unable to stare into those blazing eyes any longer. His wife still stared at her plate, as she had throughout the meal. Selma’s mouth hung open, eyes incredulous, looking as if her new sister-in-law had just turned down the chance of a lifetime.

  Kathleen stood up, hands gripping the edge of the table. “I hope you won’t think I’m rude, but I’m not used to this heat. If you’ll excuse me I’ll go for a walk.”

  She swiped at the angry tears as she strode down the driveway and onto the street.

  “Bob darling, please hurry home,” she whispered into the dark. “I can’t stay here without you.”

  She looked through lighted windows as she made her way along the deserted street. What were the people like who moved about the rooms in the little houses? Were they of the same mind as the Conroys? Maybe in a day or two she’d get a chance to meet some of them and find out.

  At the end of the street, she leaned for a long time against a tree. As the twilight deepened, the first fireflies she’d ever seen in her life outside of the movies flickered and danced around her. At any other time she would have been entranced at the sight, but not now.

  The lights of a car come toward her. As it slowed to make the turn she saw Otis Conroy and Selma in the front seat. Kathleen backed further into the shadow of the tree, and the car continued on its way.

  A sudden weariness enveloped her as she walked back down Bennington Street. Maybe with a bit of luck she could return to the house and be in her bedroom before they returned. As she opened the screen door and walked across the porch toward the kitchen, she hid her surprise when her mother-in-law’s weary face lit up at the sight of her.

  “Otis and Selma have gone to Wednesday night prayer meetin’ and won’t be back for a couple of hours. I made some peach pie. Would you like some? I’ve got ice cream.”

  Kathleen returned the smile and even though she felt as if she couldn’t eat another bite, she nodded. “Yes please, that would be lovely. I’m sorry I left so suddenly. I just needed to get a breath of air. It’s been a long day for me, and, well, your ways and customs are so different from what I’m used to. Mr. Conroy startled me with his strong views about Catholics.”

  Her mother-in-law held her hand under the running tap while she waited for the water to heat. “Don’t you worry none about Otis. I reckon he had it comin’.”

  Kathleen warmed toward her, sensing a sort of ally. “Thanks for being so understanding.” She stood uncertainly by the screen door. “It’s cooler outside now, with night coming on. Would you sit on the porch with me for a little while before I go to bed? We didn’t get a chance to talk much over dinner.”

  “Just give me a minute to get these dishes in the sink and I’ll be on out there.”

  They sat together on the porch and ate the delicious peach pie. After they’d set the dishes aside, her mother-in-law began to talk in a halting, almost shy voice.

  “I guess you been wonderin’ what kind of family we are. Well, first there’s Otis. He’s a very Christian man and done a power of good in this community for people in need of the Lord. Still and all, I thought he came on right strong to you in there. I know Catholics are Christians, but Otis, well, he just won’t hear of it.”

  She rubbed a hand across her eyes. “I have to tell you though, he’s done worked a miracle on Selma. She weren�
��t good for nothin’ until her daddy was chosen by the Lord. He’s turned her whole way of thinking around. I reckon any fella in Eddisville could have had her before her daddy made her see the light.”

  “What does Otis, I mean Mr. Conroy, do? Does he have a job as well as his church work?”

  “He works at the sawmill on the other side of town. He’s a hard-workin’ man. Selma helps out in Gus’s like she told you. She tries hard I guess, but she ain’t all that smart.”

  She paused and let out a deep sigh. “And then, there’s Bobby. I’m just hopin’ and prayin’ all this travelin’s done him some good.”

  She reached in her pocket and took out a small can. The substance that she scooped out with her thumb and forefinger was placed carefully between her gum and bottom lip.

  “I’m sorry,” Kathleen said, “do you have a toothache?”

  “No, I don’t have no toothache. Ain’t you never seen no one dip snuff before?”

  “Er, no, I’m not familiar with it. In England in the olden days, foppish sort of men carried around fancy snuff boxes and sniffed pinches of it up their noses. But I’ve never seen anyone put it in their mouths. Is it good for you?”

  Beulah Conroy gave her first big smile since Kathleen had arrived. “You sure do talk strange, Kathleen. I don’t know what foppish means and I ain’t never heard tell of people stuffin’ snuff up their noses. Round here, anyone who dips snuff puts it in their mouths. Don’t know whether it’s good for you or not, but it makes you feel good. I guess that’s what counts.”

  She moved the snuff into place with what looked like a small twig. “You wanna try some? You’ll find it soothin’ after your run-in with Otis.”

  Kathleen shook her head. “Oh no, no thanks. I just wondered what it was. I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “Well, I guess that just leaves me,” the woman said. “There ain’t really a lot to tell except to say I just do the best I can. I keep house and tend to my garden. I get this peaceful feelin’ back there, all alone watchin’ things grow.”

  She spat into a tin cup almost hidden at her side. It was done with lightning speed and if Kathleen hadn’t been watching her closely, she wouldn’t have seen.

  “Well, that’s about it. I reckon you know all there is to know about us now.”

  The intimate conversation had brought out a gentler side of Beulah Conroy. The light filtering onto the porch from the living room served to soften her features and took away the harshness that was there in the daylight. Her aloofness, so obvious earlier in the day and which Kathleen now recognized as shyness, had disappeared.

  “You probably have a lot to tell and if you’ve a mind to, you can tell me somethin’ about your momma and daddy. I’ve no doubt you’re missin’ them some. Bound to be, come to think of it.”

  Kathleen tried without success to block out the picture of her family staring up at her from the dockside. “Yes, I am missing them. More than I ever thought I would. I do want to tell you about them but perhaps some other time. It’s been a long, long day for me. Would you mind if go to bed and we discuss this another time?”

  “No, you go right ahead. I reckon I’ll just sit out here a spell longer. I do just have to say I’m as sorry as I can be that I didn’t write to your momma. It mattered to me more than I let on. But I never had much schoolin’, never did learn to read and write.”

  “That’s all right. It doesn’t matter.” Kathleen felt the need for contact, a touch of any kind, and put her hand on her mother-in-law’s shoulder. “Goodnight and thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She showered quickly, in no mood now to take that long soaking bath she’d dreamed about as she’d waited outside Gus’s in the scorching heat.

  Before getting into bed she stared out the window at the full moon. It was rising above the trees, covering her mother-in-law’s garden with a mantle of silver. The Carolina night was alive with a cacophony of sounds, the familiar mingling with the unknown. The chirping sound she attributed to what must surely be hundreds of crickets, and she recognized the croaking sound of frogs. An owl hooted in a tree close by and received an answering call from another owl far off in the distance.

  She stretched out on the bed and closed her eyes, trying to block out the little room. Her mind raced through the day, searching for something she could concentrate on, some happy incident or surprise to bring her a measure of comfort, however small. Tears slipped from under her eyelids when nothing came to mind, unless you counted her mother-in-law’s unexpected friendliness at the end of the day. But Kathleen had expected more, so much more.

  While she waited for sleep, she tried to imagine Otis Conroy joining her father and his mates in the Ring O’ Bells for a glass of beer and perhaps a game of darts, but the idea was too ridiculous. She’d have to make up something when she wrote to her family tomorrow.

  * * *

  The next morning Kathleen stayed in her room and very quietly unpacked one of her suitcases. From the snatches of conversation coming under the door, it was apparent Otis planned to give Selma a lift to Gus’s on his way to the sawmill. As soon as she heard the car pull out of the driveway, she dressed and left her room to start her first full day in Eddisville. She was touched by her mother-in-law’s obvious effort to appear more presentable. The wiry graying hair, so wild-looking yesterday, had been coaxed into a neat bun at the nape of her neck and she wore a cotton plaid dress. And there was that gentle smile again as she set a plate before Kathleen.

  “Mm, this looks good. I don’t think I’ve ever had this, though.” Kathleen looked at the gooey mound on her plate along with the fried eggs and streaky bacon. “What do you call it?”

  “They’re grits. Ain’t you never had no grits?”

  Kathleen shook her head.

  “Well, I reckon you’re in for a treat. And here’s some jam for the biscuits.” Her mother-in-law placed the jar by Kathleen’s plate. “I made it with the strawberries I grew in my garden last year.”

  “I didn’t expect you to cook my breakfast, Mrs. Conroy,” Kathleen said as she forced down the grits. “I don’t want to be too much trouble and I’ll try to help you any way I can.”

  “Then you can start by not callin’ me Miz Conroy. I’d like it if you’d call me Beulah.”

  Kathleen buttered her biscuit and reached for the jam. “I’d like that too. Mrs. Conroy sounds too formal. I just didn’t know what else to call you.”

  She sighed as she stared out the kitchen window toward the road. “I hope Bob comes today. I can’t wait to see him.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Beulah walked in with the mail. She handed Kathleen an envelope. “This must be for you. Nobody round here gets much mail except maybe Otis, but I can tell this ain’t for him.”

  Kathleen’s heart beat a little faster as she recognized her mother’s handwriting, and almost snatched the envelope out of Beulah’s hand.

  “Yes, yes, it is for me. It’s a letter from home.”

  Seeking a measure of privacy, she excused herself and sat on the front steps. This was her first letter from home and she held it close to her breast, savoring the moment, then she tore open the envelope. There were five pages, one from each member of her family.

  Her father said business was picking up at the bakery and they were already taking lunchtime orders from the local factory. Mum wanted to know Mrs. Conroy’s likes and dislikes, so she’d have an idea what to say when she wrote to her. Did she, for instance, play bridge? And incidentally, had Kath found out why the woman hadn’t replied to her other letter?

  Nina said she’d turned Kath’s bedroom into a sewing room. Seemed a shame to leave it like it was. It could be years before she returned to England. Oh yes, she was saving the best news till last. The Yanks were finally leaving Brenton. Looked like Kath had bagged hers just in time. And, by the way, had she sent the nylons yet?

  Dorothy said she’d sat by Ron Velnes on the bus the other day. He’d told her he might be going to Canada to v
isit his sister who’d married that Canadian during the war. Ron used to laugh a lot but was more serious these days. Did Kath think he was still carrying a torch for her after all this time?

  Kevin said he’d gone up to Beacon Hill last Sunday and heard the cuckoo call six times. Did Kath remember how they used to walk up there, even on rainy days?

  They all wanted to know about her new home. Was it as fine as she’d imagined? What were her in-laws like? Did everyone speak with lovely soft southern accents?

  After the sixth reading of the five letters, Kathleen looked up and stared off into the distance. It was early June and her father’s roses in the garden at the back of the bakery would be in full bloom. She could almost smell their scent mingling with that of the freshly baked bread. And if she listened really hard, she could hear the jingle of the bell over the door as people came and went inside the shop.

  She didn’t hear Freddie Conroy pull up in his pickup truck and jumped when he tapped briefly on his horn. She looked up, hardly seeing him through her tears. If he noticed he made no sign but instead gave her a huge grin.

  “Mornin’, Kathleen. Do you feel like goin’ for a ride? Don’t think I told you, but I work at the sawmill along with Otis. I’m workin’ the night shift so I’ve got the time. I’d like to show you somethin’ of Eddisville. There ain’t all that much to see, but still and all, there’s more than you saw yesterday.”

  Kathleen eased the letter into her skirt pocket. “Oh, yes please. I’d like that. Just give me a minute while I let Beulah know.”

  What a godsend this was. The prospect of spending the day confined to the house had filled her with dread. Now a respite had presented itself in the form of Freddie.

  “Well, I dunno,” Beulah said when Kathleen told her. “What’ll I tell Bobby if he comes while you’re gone?”

  “We shouldn’t be gone all that long. If he does come, you can just say Freddie is showing me around.”

  She grabbed her purse, determined to go. “Please understand, Beulah. It’s just for a little while.” She turned and left before Beulah could raise any more objections.