by Anne Moody
He opened his Bible very slowly, cleared his throat slightly, and began to read:
“ ‘Then was Jesus led up of the Spirit unto the wilderness to be tempted of the Devil and when he had fasted forty days and forty nights,’ brothers and sisters, forty days and forty nights! ‘he was afterwards mighty hungry. And when the Devil came to him, he said, if thou be the Son of God, command that these stones be made of bread. But he answered,’ and listen, listen! ‘and he said …’ ”
“Yes! Yes! What did he say?”
“ ‘It is written, man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.’ Do you hear that, sisters and brothers?” he shouted.
“Yes!”
“We don’t need them fine cars! We don’t need them fancy clothes.”
“Yes, Jesus! Yes, Lord! Yes! Amen!” the crowd roared and hollered.
I sat there thinking, “Who in here got fine cars and fancy clothes?”
He let them holler and “amen” and shout for a while, then he said, “If you think that was courage, listen to this,” he said, mopping his face with his handkerchief. “ ‘Then the Devil taketh Jesus up unto the holy city and set him on the top of the highest temple and he said to him,’ to Christ himself! ‘if thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down, for it is said that his angels watch over thee, and in their hands they shall bear thee up, lest at any time thou dash thy foot against a stone. And Jesus said unto him,’ listen what he said, children! ‘it is written, that thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God’ and the Devil, not givin’ up,” Reverend Tyson said, closing his Bible, “took Jesus up to the highest mountain this time and showed him all the kingdoms of the world below, all them big houses, all them fine cars, all them beautiful clothes, and said, ‘if thou will fall down and worship me, all these things will I give unto thee,’ ” he shouted, standing on the edge of the pulpit, spit flying in every direction.
“And this time Christ got a little angry,” he said, coming down through the aisles. “And Jesus said, ‘Get thee hence, Satan!’ ” he screamed, throwing out his arms and pointing his finger in my directiòn.
Women were shouting and jumping and hollering and screaming all over the place. Deacons were running around grabbing fainting women and shouting “Amen” at the right times.
“Get thee hence, Satan!” he said again, “for it is written that thou shalt worship the Lord thy God and him only shalt thou serve.” He paused for a while, breathing deeply, and it seemed like everybody in the church was about to faint.
“Then the Devil left Jesus and the angels came and ministered unto him,” he said, almost whispering, as everyone in the church leaned forward to catch his words. Suddenly he raised his arms.
“He fought away the Devil!” he shouted, going down on his knees. “He fought away temptation!” he said, getting up. “And God’s angels came to him!”
He walked past our row and as I turned to watch him my eyes met Sister Jones’s. I couldn’t take my eyes from her sunken-eyed wrinkled face.
“Aren’t you ready to give up the Devil and come to Christ tonight!” Reverend Tyson shouted. “Who’s goin’ to come? Who’s ready? Do we have anybody tonight? Do we have anybody tonight? Will you come? Will you come?” he pleaded. As he did, Sister Jones started singing and all the other sisters joined her. I turned around and looked at Mama and she had tears running out of her eyes. Even Adline looked like she was about to cry.
“Come to Je-e-sus,
“Come to Je-e-sus,
“Come to Je-e-sus right now,” they all sang.
“He will sa-a-ve you,” Reverend Tyson sang as he walked back toward the pulpit.
“He will sa-a-ve you
“He will sa-a-ve you
“He will sa-a-ve you ri-i-ght now,” the whole church sang.
Reverend Tyson reached the pulpit and turned to the audience.
“Will everybody stand?” he said, motioning with his arms. Everybody stood, continuing to sing “Come to Jesus.” Out of all the voices, Sister Jones’s was the only one I heard.
“All the Christians, I want you to sit down!” Reverend Tyson shouted over the singing voices. “And all the sinners, I want you to remain standing! Now don’t you lie to the Lord!”
People started sitting down.
“If you are a sinner, repent tonight! Stand up and let me see who you are!”
Come to Je-e-sus,
Come to Je-e-sus,
Come to Je-e-sus right now.
It seemed like I was floating in the air and I had lost sight of where I was. Something was behind me, pushing me. All I could hear was Sister Jones’s singing and Reverend Tyson saying, “Will you come, will you come tonight?” I could feel myself moving and I didn’t know where I was going or what I was doing. I didn’t see anybody.
When everything was quiet and the singing had stopped, I looked around and saw that I was standing right in the front row of the church, at the mourner’s bench, with a few other candidates for baptism. I was standing face-to-face with Reverend Tyson.
“What’s your name, young lady?” he asked gently.
“Essie Mae Moody,” I stuttered.
“Speak up, young lady. Tell the Lord your name.”
“Essie Mae Moody,” I said, a little bit louder.
“You want to become a member of this church, Sister Moody?” he asked.
I didn’t say yes. I just nodded my head.
“Brothers,” he said solemnly, “do we accept Sister Moody as a candidate for baptism to become a member of this church?”
“Brother pastor,” said Deacon Brown, standing near us, “we accept Sister Moody as a candidate to be baptized into Mount Pleasant Church on the second Sunday of next month.”
When Reverend Tyson finished with the last candidate, he motioned us to return to our seats. I hesitated. I didn’t want to go back there to face Mama. When I realized that I was standing there by myself, I turned around and walked slowly back. As I came up to Mama, I didn’t even look at her. I just stumbled into the row and sat down. Adline leaned over and said in a loud whisper, “You joined church!”
Then I looked at Mama. When she smiled at me, I felt like killing her and Sister Jones both.
During the next few weeks I hardly spoke to Mama at all. Since I had threatened to run away before baptism, I didn’t have to avoid her, she was avoiding me. She was so pleased that I had joined Mount Pleasant that she was scared to say anything that would make me mad enough to really run off.
Baptism at Mount Pleasant was the biggest event of the year. Some people saved all year to buy a new outfit. Mama got busy planning what we both would wear. She went to the one store in Centreville that gave credit to Negroes and got a gray fall suit and a pair of shoes for herself. The candidates for baptism had to wear all white so Mama had a white dress made for me and bought me a blue one for after baptism. When she said that the white dress symbolized that I was entering the church pure and the blue one meant that I would always be true and faithful to the church, I felt more than ever like running away.
Saturday, the day before baptism, it rained. I had hoped it would flood so that baptism would be called off, but it didn’t rain that hard. On Sunday morning, baptism day, I got up and the rain had stopped. I was the last one up. Everybody else had eaten breakfast, dressed and everything. When I saw that Mama had laid my baptism clothes out at the foot of my bed, I sat there thinking of jumping out of the window and disappearing forever. Instead, I looked at that white dress, those white socks, that white slip, and those white drawers, and thought, “This shit means I’ve been washed clean of all my sins!”
“My sins!” I said, kicking everything off onto the floor like a wild woman.
Just then Mama came in.
“Gal! Looka here what you done! Gettin’ this white dress all dirty! Get outta that bed!” she screamed angrily, picking up the dress like I had wounded it. “How you ‘spect to be baptized layin’ up in the bed pokin’ your mouth out, kickin
’ these clothes on the floor. God’ll slap the breath outta you, playin’ with him like this! Get up! Take a bath and get these clothes on. It’s nine-thirty and I gotta get you out there ’fore eleven o’clock,” she continued, hollering all the way to the kitchen. “Can’t do nothing with these hard-head chaps.”
Getting out of bed, I looked at those white things again and thought, “Washed clean!” I threw off my pajamas and pulled on the drawers. “Washed clean!” I said, putting on the slip. “Washed clean!” I said louder, pulling on the socks. “Wa-a-a-shed cle-e-e-an!” I yelled, pulling the dress over my head.
“Get outta them clothes and take a bath!” Mama yelled and pushed me onto the bed, just as I was putting my arms through the sleeves of the dress, which was still over my head. As I hit the bed I heard a loud rip.
“Looka there! Looka there! Done tore that damned dress! Gal, I could kill your ass! Get on in there and take a bath while I sew this dress up! Goddamn you!” she yelled, pushing me out of the room.
Finally I put that white dress on and we were on our way out to Mount Pleasant. Everyone had left the church for the pond except the dozen or so candidates who were waiting for me. I was almost an hour late. A couple of deacons used their cars to drive us to the pond. As we drove past the pond where they usually had baptism and turned into the old gravel road I had walked so many times on my way to school, I asked Deacon Brown which pond we were going to.
“They just build a new pond out there right in front of Miss Rose them. That’s a better setup ’cause it’ll be easier for y’all to change clothes at Miss Rose’s house.”
Deacon Brown parked the car in front of Miss Rose’s, saying “Oh, they’re all out there, huh? Pretty big day today.”
Getting out of the car, I looked down the hill and saw hundreds of people standing around near the levee of a big new pond. Opposite the levee, on the far side of the pond, stood a whole group of cows. They looked like they were part of the service.
We walked through the gate and headed toward the pond. I felt the dampness of the ground from yesterday’s rain. It was a gloomy and chilly September morning and it looked as if it was going to rain again. As I got closer to the crowd, they looked to me like they were huddling together to keep each other warm. Looking at them made me even colder. The girls were shivering in their gaily colored nylon dresses. The young boys stood motionless in their thin suits, with their hands in their pockets. Even the old ladies were too cold to talk. I spotted Mama in the crowd in her new fall suit and thought, “At least she knew how to dress.”
When we got to the edge of the pond where Reverend Tyson was standing with two deacons, we were told to line up. I looked over at the crowd and saw that they had spread out so everyone could see better. There were a lot more people than I had thought. Seeing all those brightly colored dresses and hats, the long earrings, beads, and fancy hairdos, the blood-red lipstick laid on so thick that on some lips it looked purple made me even more aware that we were all dressed in white, even the boys. I felt like a stuffed white rabbit in an Easter parade.
Now that we were all lined up, we were asked to slip our shoes off. Then Reverend Tyson was led out into the water by two deacons. Just as they stepped into the water, I heard Sister Jones’s voice sing out, loud and clear, “Take me to the wa-a-ters …”
She was immediately joined by everyone else standing around the pond.
Take me to the wa-a-ters …
Take me to the wa-a-ters …
To be-ee bap-tized.…
As the people caught their breaths for the next verse, several moos could be heard. The mooing got so loud that the singing stopped for a moment. Reverend Tyson, in water up to his knees, turned toward the cows and raised his hand as if to quiet them. When they stopped mooing, everybody laughed. Then the singing began again.
When Reverend Tyson and the two deacons were standing in water up to their chests, the first candidate was led out. Everyone continued to sing “Take Me to the Waters” but much lower. Most of the candidates looked scared, especially the girl in front of me. I couldn’t tell whether she was shaking because she was scared or cold, or both. I heard Jack, one of the wildest, crap-shootingest boys around, whisper from behind me, “Lookit all that cow shit in that water!” I looked down at the water and saw big piles of cow manure floating around. The thought of being ducked under that water made me want to vomit. The water was so muddy, the whole pond looked like a giant mud pie. Then I looked at the girl standing between Reverend Tyson and one of the deacons.
“I baptize you in the name of the Father, in the name of the Son, and in the name of the Holy Ghost, Amen,” Reverend Tyson said, drawing out the last syllable as he ducked her quickly under the water. She came up coughing and sputtering, her white dress was now dark brown. Her hair was dripping with mud. All the other candidates stared at her as the deacons helped her back to the edge of the pond. She was shaking and she looked like she wanted to cry so bad. All the candidates were aware of the saying that if you coughed when you were being baptized, it meant the Devil was coming out of you. I knew she was embarrassed because she had coughed.
“All dressed in white! Washed clean! Look at that!” I thought, looking at her.
As the girl ahead of me was being led out, Jack leaned close and whispered, “ ’Member, Moody, betta not cough out there. Sister Jones gonna say you were a sinner. Hee-hee-hee.”
“You got a lot more to cough about than me,” I said. I saw two deacons coming for me. As I waded into the water, I could feel the mud sticking to my legs. I was mad as hell, and I heard Sister Jones’s voice singing “Nothing but the righteous …” along with the rest. I thought, “Nothing but the righteous. Some shit!”
I was so mad I barely heard Reverend Tyson shouting, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, in the name of the Son, and in the name of the Holy Ghost, A-men!” Suddenly a wet hand was slapped over my face and I felt the mud folding over me, sucking me down. Just as I began to feel the heaviness of the mud, I was lifted out of the water. I tried to open my eyes but mud was stuck to my lashes, so I just left them closed. I felt shitty all over. As they were leading me out of the water, I could hear the cows mooing, Jack laughing, and everyone singing, “Take Me to the Waters.” Everything sounded far away. It took me a minute to realize that my ears were stuffed full of mud.
After the last candidate was baptized, we were all rushed up to Miss Rose’s where we washed off and changed. Even then, I still smelled like wet mud, and the smell lingered for weeks.
Chapter
SIX
All that second winter in the new house, Raymond sat around talking about becoming a big-time farmer, raising lots of kids, making plenty of money, and being his own man. So in early March he went out scouting for a mule and a piece of land. Within a week he had found both, as cheap as he could get them. He bought a used-up old mule from a friend for twenty-five dollars, hoping that it could last at least one season. He rented a strip of cheap virgin land in the old army camp area. It was on a hill slanting down to the edge of some woods. Since there was only one little tree and not much grass, Raymond thought that plowing would be easy and that he had gotten a real bargain. For the first few days of plowing he went around grinning and boasting and even saying how nice Mr. Pickett was for letting him have the land so cheap. He enjoyed the plowing and he stayed in the field from sunup to sundown. He’d come in all sweaty and tired, dragging the poor old mule behind him.
One evening he came in a little early, all disgusted, cursing up a storm. He slammed into the kitchen with his lunch basket held in front of him.
“Looka this! Looka this! That goddamn mothafucka! I shoulda known he wasn’t givin’ me that land for nothin’. That whole damn bottom is just like plowin’ into steel. Looka this shit!” he said, dumping the contents of his lunch bucket onto the table.
We all stood around the table looking. Mama picked up a big round rock, covered with dirt.
“What in the shit is this?” Mama
asked, scraping the dirt from the rock.
“Don’t you drop that thing! It may be live!” Raymond shouted.
“Live?” Mama screamed, throwing up both hands, dropping the object to the floor. It hit with a loud thud and rolled under the stove. Raymond tiptoed after it, with his arms out, like he was reaching for a baby. He got down on his knees, reached under the stove, and carefully picked the thing up.
“What you doin’ bringin’ stuff like that in this house! What you mean it’s live?” Mama said, staring at the object in Raymond’s trembling hands.
“Live? Shit! This is a goddamned hand grenade! That whole bottom is full of them! Some of ’em look like they ain’t never been touched.”
“Hand grenade! You mean a bomb?” Mama said.
“Sure, the bottom of that hill musta been a practice ground or something. Looka here,” he said, picking up a big bullet. “If that steel plow hit this thing the right way, it’d kill the shit outta me.”
“If them things been out there since the war they ain’t hardly no good now,” Mama said, looking at the pile of grenades and bullets on the table. “Take your hands off that stuff, boy!” she screamed at Junior, who was just about to pick up one of the grenades. “Ray, get that shit outta here.”
From then on Raymond plowed very carefully. Every time he went out to the fields after that, he would act as if it might be his last day on earth. Even though Mama insisted that the old bullets and things weren’t “live,” she stopped fixing lunch for Raymond and had him come home at twelve. And every evening she’d pace around the kitchen worrying until he got home. After a few days of plowing with no explosions, Raymond and Mama began to relax a little.
