Different Drummers

by Jean Houghton-Beatty

  Kathleen moved her gaze to Otis, feeling her skin crawl even now. His strange eyes stared into hers, glowing with the zeal of an Old Testament prophet. His hair was also different as if it had been fluffed up and powdered. It was longer than she remembered. Maybe he too was wearing a wig.

  Both smiled serenely, with arms stretched outward and upward in praise.

  In spite of her antipathy toward these two, Kathleen was fascinated by the photograph. Still staring at it, she replaced it on the coffee table.

  When Bob handed her the rest of the envelope’s contents, she had the strange feeling he was watching her closely, as if waiting to see her reaction.

  “How about readin’ the newspaper clippin’ out loud,” he said. “I’m gettin’ better with my readin’ but I’m not that good yet and I don’t wanna miss nothin’.”

  The Reverend Otis Conroy it seemed had come from out of nowhere and already was drawing the largest crowds the church had ever had. In fact, since Preacher Conroy held his first Sunday service at the Church of Divine Power just a few short weeks ago, membership had tripled. Underneath the article was the same bizarre photograph of Otis and Selma.

  Bob grinned and shook his head unbelievingly. “Damn if Daddy ain’t famous. He didn’t get no publicity like this when he was preachin’ at Uncle Homer’s church.”

  There was also a letter from Otis telling of the day Jesus had come to him in a vision and given him the power to heal. He’d written the word POWER in capital letters and underlined it twice. He could help the afflicted now, he’d written, could cast the devil out of their tormented bodies. Also capitalized and underlined twice was the statement that Bobby just wouldn’t believe how the money was rolling in.

  Almost as an afterthought, Otis mentioned Kathleen. He said he couldn’t wait to see her and hoped it wouldn’t be all that long before Bob brought his wife to Crystal Springs so they could witness for themselves all the wonderful powers Jesus had bestowed upon Otis Conroy and his daughter Selma. Fighting a desire to tear the letter to shreds, Kathleen prayed for diplomacy. Surely, Bob wouldn’t fall for any of this. Or would he? she wondered, as she looked at his flushed, excited face.

  She gathered the courage to ask. “What do you think of all this?”

  Bob was clearly puzzled as well as dazzled. “I don’t get it. They don’t even look like themselves. Wonder what they did to look like that?”

  Kathleen stared at the picture again. “Well, Selma has on a wig for starters. And it looks like your daddy’s wearing one too. How do you like their nice white outfits?” she asked, unable to keep the contempt from her voice.

  “Damn,” Bob said. “I didn’t expect them to look like this. Ain’t Daddy just somethin’ else? He’s always been a character, but he ain’t never done no layin’ on of hands before.”

  He lit a cigarette and pulled the ashtray toward him. “We need to pay him and Selma a visit. This is somethin’ we’ve got to see for ourselves. Daddy said he can’t wait to see you. Didn’t I tell you he always kinda liked you?”

  Kathleen listened grimly as she thought of the sarcasm behind Otis’s words when he’d mentioned her.

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Bob said. “I ain’t fallin’ for all that razzamatazz about him bein’ able to heal people. Damn if that ain’t for the birds. Still and all, he did say the money’s rolling in. I’m wonderin’ just how much cold cash Daddy’s talking about here.”

  He grinned as if letting her in on his secret. “I ain’t above trying my hand at anythin’ if it means we’ll be makin’ a bundle. No ma’am. Maybe I can be up there savin’ a few souls, same as Daddy.”

  When Bob slapped his uninjured knee as if it was some big joke, Kathleen knew the idea was taking hold. Her stomach turned over.

  She fought to keep the mounting panic from seeping into her voice. “How can you do that? Don’t you have to have some kind of degree in theology or something?”

  “Degree in what?”

  “Theology.”

  “Shoot no. Daddy ain’t never had no degree and look how good he’s doin’.” Bob’s face was flushed and his eyes crackled.

  “You mean you really think he can heal people now?” She couldn’t help it. The words just slipped out.

  Bob’s face darkened as he suddenly grew defensive of his father. “You don’t have to be so damn sarcastic. How do you know he can’t do it?”

  When she didn’t answer, Bob struggled to his feet. “Seems to me you’d be tickled to death to take a look at Daddy’s new church. It’s his very own.”

  “I didn’t notice you being so interested in his preaching when you came home before,” she said. “You didn’t even seem religious. Why the sudden enthusiasm?”

  He looked down at her, clearly startled. “It ain’t the religion I’m looking at. I just got through tellin’ you that. But I ain’t gonna say as much to Daddy on account he had his callin’ and all. I’m lookin’ at the money side of it. Strictly the money side. Uncle Homer didn’t care much about makin’ money, except maybe to cover church expenses. But he should have. Is it any wonder Daddy left when somethin’ good turned up? There ain’t no denyin’ he puts on one hell of a good show and I’m bettin’ he’ll be makin’ as much money as any movie star in no time at all.”

  Kathleen stared down at her hands trying to think of something to say but the right words wouldn’t come.

  “There’s big bucks here,” Bob said. “I mean big bucks with a capital B. I can smell ‘em. Didn’t you know there’s money in preachin’?”

  When she still didn’t answer, Bob banged his fist on the table. “I’ll be damned if you don’t beat all. First time home you talked me into takin’ that job at the hardware store, and you can see where that got us. And now, now when a real chance comes along, you’re actin’ like there’s somethin’ wrong with it. Well, let me tell you somethin’, Baby. If I get to preachin’ alongside Daddy and that money’s rollin’ in, you’re gonna be singin’ a different tune.”

  She shoved everything back in the envelope and slammed it onto the coffee table. “Am I? If you think that, you don’t know me at all. You and I march to very different drummers, Bob, and all I can tell you is I think the whole idea is so bloody crazy, it makes my head spin. Don’t ask me again. Just do what you have to do. If you have to go, go, but I’ll never go and that’s final.”

  It wasn’t the first time she heard a little voice somewhere inside her head telling her to let him go. If he did, she’d be rid of him at last.

  Bob rolled his eyes and shook his head slowly as if she were beyond understanding. He took a beer out of the refrigerator and headed slowly for the terrace. She watched him through the window as she prepared the evening meal and saw him for the first time as a carbon copy of his father. Had Beulah started her married life filled with hopes and dreams, only to have them smashed to pieces by the unpredictable Otis Conroy? Could Bob and Otis wear her down until she had that same look of hopelessness in her eyes she’d first noticed in Beulah?

  “Dear God,” she whispered to the empty room. “I could bear anything but that.”

  Everything was clear to her now. If Bob decided to be part of the Church of Divine Power, it would be the end of their marriage.

  Slowly she set the table for supper.

  * * *

  She’d been so intrigued with the letter and photographs from Otis, she’d almost missed the other envelope. After she’d cleared away the dishes, she saw it there on the coffee table, recognizing immediately the English postage stamps and familiar handwriting. Picking it up she went into the bathroom and locked the door to afford herself a measure of privacy.

  The envelope contained the usual letters and inevitable pictures. Coming hard on the heels of the letter and picture from Otis, it was as if she stared at people from another planet. How could the lives of two families be so different? What was the reason behind such diverse points of view? She tried to imagine her father in the role of a preacher such as Otis Conroy and found it impo
ssible. She wiped her mind clear of the Conroys, and concentrated on the pictures and letters from home. One of the pictures showed the outside of the bakery, with Nina’s shop next door. It looked now as if the beauty parlor had always been there and hadn’t once been part of the bakery storeroom at all. There was a brand new sign stretching across the two shops with the catchy names Upper Cut and Upper Crust emblazoned across it.

  Her family stood beneath the sign looking like people she used to know, but who weren’t really a part of her life anymore. There stood Kevin, in between Dorothy and Nina, an arm protectively on each of their shoulders. Dorothy wasn’t “little Dorothy” anymore. Although only fifteen, she looked almost grownup when she wasn’t wearing her school uniform. Mum and Dad looked older but why wouldn’t they. Time didn’t stand still. Kathleen tried to ignore the twinge of envy as she stared at the picture of Nina with the handsome naval officer who was her sister’s fiancé. They held hands and laughed into each other’s eyes. Nina had scribbled on the back of the picture they planned to marry next year and looked forward to a honeymoon in Paris. Kathleen wondered if there was any way she could afford to go home for the wedding and realized there was nothing she would rather do.

  Later she showed the picture to Bob and her hardened heart protected her from being hurt. He glanced casually at the picture then handed it back to her. “Damn if I ain’t glad to be away from that place,” he said.

  * * *

  Even though Bob tried to talk some more about taking a trip to see Otis preach in his new church, Kathleen refused to discuss it. That was at least until two days before the end of Bob’s leave, when she came home from work to see a shiny new Oldsmobile with Tennessee license plates parked in the driveway.

  Otis had wasted no time in making his move. There was no other reason for his visit except to lure his son to Tennessee. With a mixture of anger and something like raw fear, she came within a hair of backing out of the driveway and speeding away. But no, better to face him now than wonder when the showdown would come.

  “Dear God, help me,” she said out loud as she turned off the ignition. Then, steeling herself for what loomed ahead, she picked up her purse and stepped out of the car.

  As she entered the house, she saw Otis and Bob in such earnest conversation on the terrace that they hadn’t heard her drive up. Quietly she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the pitcher of ever-present iced tea. She poured herself a glass and walked outside to join them.

  “Hey, Baby,” Bob said. “Ain’t this a surprise! I guess Daddy’s the last person you expected to see when you came home today.”

  Even though her husband smiled, Kathleen saw the caution in his face and heard the reservation in his voice. She gave Otis only the semblance of a nod and made no attempt at friendly overtures.

  “That’s right. It is a surprise.”

  If it had been anybody besides her father-in-law, and at some other time, she would have laughed out loud. But there was nothing funny in her eyes about Otis Conroy.

  He wore a powder blue suit with matching tie, white socks, and white patent leather shoes. Now that she saw him in person, it was obvious Otis indeed sported a wig of abundant brown wavy hair, cut on the long side and flecked with gray. Rather than a personification, he was a parody of the sort of person he presumed to be, or really thought he was. He was a walking, talking example of a self-made flamboyant faith healer. Surely Bob wouldn’t fall for this.

  “Hey, Kathleen,” said the detested voice.

  Otis stood up as she joined them on the terrace. “I hope my droppin’ in unexpected like this ain’t gonna put you out all that much.”

  “I hardly recognized you, Otis,” she said. “You look different. Have you changed your hair style?”

  His amber eyes flashed at her in the way she remembered. He’d heard the contempt in her voice and seen the look in her eyes.

  “Yeah, well, I got an image to keep up now and I’m tryin’ to do what my congregation expects.”

  “How interesting,” she said, trying to make it sound as if it was the least interesting thing in the world, and at the same time thrilling to the realization she wasn’t afraid of him anymore. “I’m sure they’re all very proud of you.”

  “Daddy’s gonna be spendin’ the night,” Bob said with a smile. It was obvious he had no inkling of the emotionally charged exchange between his father and his wife.

  Otis acted concerned. “Now, don’t y’all be goin’ to no trouble on my account. I can sleep on the sofa in the livin’ room.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.” Kathleen knew there was no way she could spend a night under the same roof as this man. “I’ll stay at the Tates. You can sleep in the bed with Bob.

  Those strange blazing eyes shot her a look of either anger or disappointment. She couldn’t tell which.

  “I’m sure you’ll be anxious to get back to your church and will only be staying the one night?” She said it boldly, as if the very idea of him staying longer was out of the question.

  “Yeah, I reckon. I’m here on a mission and when that’s done, I’ll be headin’ back. I’ve come to offer Bobby the chance of a lifetime. Yes sir, this is somethin’ so wonderful he ain’t gonna be able to refuse. I want him side by side with Selma and me, up there on the rostrum of the Church of Divine Power.”

  He shot a knowing look at Bob, as if his little speech had been rehearsed.

  “Guess I’ve already talked Bobby into it, but he tells me you ain’t all that keen on comin’?”

  Bob had his back against the wall, beer in one hand and a cigarette dangling between the fingers of his other hand. He looked entreating, begging her with his eyes not to refuse. How could he possibly know if she went with him to Crystal Springs so he could turn into some kind of charlatan like his father, she would end up either in a mental hospital or a cemetery.

  “That’s right, Otis, I’m not,” she said in answer to his question. “Now, if you’ll both just give me a minute to change clothes, I’ll be back to start supper.”

  She went into the bedroom and closed the door. She leaned her perspiring face against the wall and deliberately concentrated on Ron Velnes, conjuring up his image and trying to draw sustenance from his memory and their time at the beach. Thinking of him and remembering, she smiled to herself and slowly changed out of her good clothes into a loose fitting cotton dress.

  She escaped into the kitchen to prepare the evening meal. As she fixed Beulah’s meatloaf recipe and succotash the way Sarah had shown her, she focused on bringing her anger under control. Letting her hate for Otis show would accomplish nothing. She suffered through his sanctimonious and overlong blessing. She hardly listened as he rambled on, but cast her mind back instead to that unforgettable day when she’d first arrived in Eddisville and sat for the first time at Otis Conroy’s table. It came to her how very much she’d changed since then. Where had that young girl gone, the one with the stars in her eyes?

  Unable to eat a bite, she toyed with her food, wishing not for the first time Otis had died instead of Beulah.

  Otis smiled the smile of condescension. “Why don’t y’all come for a weekend so you can see the Church of Divine Power? It ain’t all that far and it’ll be worth every penny you spend on gas. Folks been sayin’ they never had no real layin’ on of hands till they felt the power in mine. I think you’re in for a big surprise.”

  “How would that be?” Her voice was cold, deliberately indifferent.

  “It’s the wonder of it all, Kathleen,” Otis said. “You wouldn’t believe all them folks just lookin’ for a helpin’ hand. I heal the sick and them without hope just by touchin’ them. There’s some with demons crawlin’ all over their bodies. I help them all through the word of the Lord.”

  Kathleen suddenly had the strange feeling she was taking part in a play and wasn’t sure whether it was a comedy or tragedy. She looked at Bob, his handsome face filled with an almost child-like excitement as he listened to his father.

  “Bob t
ells me there’s money in this healing. Is that right?”

  Otis nodded. “Yes ma’am, that certainly is correct. This is the part Bobby can start out doin’. The sellin’ side of it. We got tokens that sell for a couple of dollars apiece. Them who needs them carry them in their pockets, and stroke them when they feel the devil lookin’ over their shoulder.”

  He rubbed his hands together as he warmed to his subject. “We got little prayer cloths too that sell for another couple of dollars each. Selma runs them up on an old sewin’ machine we found in back of the church. I pray over the cloths before we sell them and it gives them a sort of power. We made six hundred dollars on them little prayer cloths alone last Sunday.”

  Bob gasped. “Six hundred dollars in one day? That ain’t possible.”

  “Oh yes it is, Bobby. Six hundred dollars in one day. And you just ain’t gonna believe how my fame is spreadin’. Yes sir, it’s really spreadin’.”

  “You hear that, Baby?” Bob beamed at her, as if what his father had just said would leave no doubt in Kathleen’s mind that here indeed was the answer to their prayers.

  Otis pressed the waves in his wig. “Didn’t that newspaper clippin’ I sent you say it all? Didn’t it just give you goose bumps all over when you read it?”

  “You mean you really believe you and Selma help these people?”

  “Oh, it ain’t really us that does it,” Otis said, acting as if he hadn’t noticed the disdain lacing her every word. “We ain’t the ones who banish the demons out of these folks. Jesus does the hard work. Shoot, we ain’t nothin’ without Him.”

  “You mean you and Selma are the instruments? You and Selma?” She deliberately placed heavy emphasis on the two names.

  Bob bristled as he finally picked up on her tone. “What you tryin’ to say, Kathleen?”