Just Shy of Harmony

by Philip Gulley

  The first night they built a fort down in the basement. Sam strung clothesline from the furnace over to the shower stall, and they draped blankets over the line. Sam and the boys eat supper down there on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Guy food. Wienies and beans. One night they even slept down there.

  On the third Thursday of February, Sam didn’t even go to the monthly elders meeting. He stayed home in the fort with his boys. With Sam gone, Harvey Muldock and Dale Hinshaw resurrected the idea of adding on a gymnasium to the meetinghouse. They think Harmony Friends Meeting should sponsor a seminar on church maintenance for church trustees from the central Midwest. “We could hold it here if we had a gym,” Harvey pointed out.

  Harvey and Dale had come up with the idea during the February men’s breakfast. They were the only ones to show. They got to talking about what they might do to attract more men to the church, which was when Harvey had the idea of a seminar featuring the latest in power tools and maybe a lecture by Bob Vila.

  A gymnasium, they reason, is the perfect venue for men’s ministry. They could shoot some hoops, then Bob Vila could talk about tools and home repair. Then Dale, carrying through on the home repair theme, could talk about our Father’s many mansions. Dale believes someone has to take care of those mansions—caulk the windows, scrape the paint, and plug the roof leaks. He thinks the church trustees should be prepared.

  “So the gymnasium isn’t really for us,” Dale told the elders. “What we’re really doing is equipping folks to serve the Lord into eternity.”

  Harvey nodded his head in solemn agreement.

  When Miriam Hodge told Sam about it the next day, he was glad he’d stayed home to eat wienies and beans in the basement with his boys.

  Barbara looks forward to Tuesdays and Thursdays at the Legal Grounds. She goes in at five and doesn’t get home until around nine. She likes it that Mabel doesn’t talk about the church. They talk about books they’ve read and world affairs.

  All her married life, Mabel had voted a straight Republican ticket under orders from her husband, Harold, proprietor of the Morrison’s Menswear shop. But ever since he died, she’s been reading books about Harry Truman and the Kennedys. She even took down the framed picture of Richard Nixon that had hung in their living room since 1968.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” she told Barbara one Tuesday night, “I miss Harold, but I always felt I lived in his shadow. It wasn’t easy being married to a pillar of the community.”

  “Don’t I know it. You should try being married to a minister. People think the only thing you can talk about is church. And it’s all Sam talks about. Are all men like that?”

  “My Harold was. Everything revolved around the shop. We never even went on vacation. We’d go to the annual International Shoe Company customer appreciation dinner in St. Louis. Twenty-one years straight. It’s the only place I’ve ever been.” Mabel sighed.

  Barbara patted Mabel’s hand. “Maybe you’ll win the radio trip to the Caribbean. I’ll pray for that to happen.”

  But she didn’t pray too hard, because she wanted to win that trip herself. The only place she’s been lately is up to the city to visit Sally Fleming. She and Miriam Hodge drove to the hospital the last Saturday in February. They left the kids at home with their husbands. Barbara said to Miriam, “I know it’s Sam’s job to visit Sally, but if I was lying in bed throwing up and my hair was falling out in clumps, the last thing I’d want is a bunch of men standing around gawking at me. I wouldn’t care if one of them was my pastor.”

  They stayed a couple hours. They caught Sally up on all the news and told her about the WEAK Caribbean Trip Giveaway. Sally mostly talked about her kids. She hadn’t seen them for several weeks. She worried it would frighten them to see her bald, so Wayne had the kids draw her pictures, which Barbara and Miriam thumbtacked to the bulletin board in her hospital room.

  It makes Sally cry to look at the pictures. Stick drawings with the words We love you written in crooked letters along the bottom. She remembers how she ran away and is wracked with guilt.

  “But when that doctor told me I had leukemia, I just wasn’t thinking,” Sally confided to Barbara and Miriam. “I just felt I had to leave. I couldn’t bear the thought of the kids watching me die the way I watched my mother. Then I got to missing them so much I had to come back.” She began to cry. “I guess I’m not much of a mother.”

  “There now,” Miriam said, patting her arm. “Don’t talk that way. You’re a good mother. You were just confused, that’s all.”

  Barbara isn’t sure what to think. She talked about it with Miriam on their drive home. “I really like Sally, but I don’t see how she could have just left her family like that.”

  Miriam thought about that for a while, then said, “Well, Barbara, we just never know what we’ll do. People do odd things when they think they’re going to die. When I had breast cancer, I didn’t tell my sister until after it was all over. I just couldn’t deal with her knowing.” She paused. “You think you know how you’d handle being something, but you don’t until it’s happened to you.”

  “I guess you’re right. I hope I never have to find out.”

  “I hope you never have to either, Barbara. I will say one thing, though. When you’ve survived a bad sickness, life takes on a certain appeal it never had before. It’s really hard to have a bad day.” Miriam laughed. “Though I must admit that an elders meeting with Dale Hinshaw can make the grave seem a welcome prospect.”

  It depressed Barbara to see Sally. It’s been a hard year, what with Sam’s struggle and everyone talking about him behind his back. She walks into the Kut ’N’ Kurl, and the ladies smile and change the subject. Some days she wishes Sam had gone into a different line of work. She’s never told him that, but she wishes it just the same.

  She’s hoping they’ll win the Caribbean trip for two. She’d bought ten raffle tickets. She called Sam’s brother, Roger, to see if he could watch the kids, just in case.

  Barbara even ordered a new bathing suit. The UPS man delivered it the last day of February while the boys were in school and Sam was at work. She tried on the bathing suit and studied herself in the mirror.

  Not bad for a woman pushing forty with two kids, she thought. Not bad at all.

  She hid the bathing suit in her bottom drawer.

  She could use seven days in the Caribbean. She’s not sure Sam would even go if they win. She can hear him now: “I don’t know, it just doesn’t seem right for us to go on vacation, what with Sally in the hospital and all.”

  But there’s always someone in the hospital. There’s always a crisis. He complains about the church never giving him a vacation, but the truth is he wouldn’t go on vacation if they did give him one. Sam’s idea of a vacation is a three-day visit to her parents’ house. Even then he calls the church once a day to check with Frank the secretary.

  If she wins the trip, she’s going—with or without him. She’s going to pack her swimsuit and fly to the sunny Caribbean. If Sam won’t go, she’ll take Mabel Morrison. They’ll sit beside the pool, and when the waiter walks past she’ll say, “Hey there, buddy, could you pour me another one?”

  It’s been a long year, and she could use the break.

  Twenty-two

  Bea and the Reverend

  It was the morning of Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, and the Coffee Cup restaurant was full. Vinny was at the griddle flipping pancakes, and Penny worked the booths, pouring coffee. Dale Hinshaw sat at the counter next to Asa Peacock.

  “I was wondering if you could maybe look at my chickens,” Dale said.

  “What’s going on?” Asa asked.

  “I’m not sure. Their feathers are falling out, and they’re not laying as many eggs.”

  “All the chickens or just some of them?”

  “Just some.”

  “It’s probably nothing. A lot of times they’ll molt this time of year. As for the egg production, you might try increasing their feed.”

  “It couldn�
�t have happened at a worse time. I was going to the airport this weekend to pass out Scripture eggs to the Moonies. Now it looks like I’m running short of eggs.” Dale sighed. “First the church didn’t give me the ten thousand dollars they promised. Now my chickens are looking puny. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think the Lord had set His heart against my Scripture egg ministry.”

  “Now don’t go getting all discouraged. Remember, Jonah had his whale and Daniel had his lion’s den.”

  “Maybe it’s a test,” Dale said.

  “I bet you’re right.”

  “Could you and Jessie pray for me?”

  “You know we will. Of course, it could be stress. Are you still keeping the chickens in your basement?”

  “Yep, at least until I get enough money to build a coop.”

  “You might try letting them outside every now and then. They like fresh air. You could try taking them for a walk. That might help.”

  “You think so?”

  “Couldn’t hurt.” Asa stood and plucked his bill from the counter. Vinny rang him up. “Happy Lent,” Asa told him.

  “Thank you,” Vinny said.

  “Are the Catholics having church tonight?”

  “You bet. What about you guys? Do the Quakers recognize Lent?”

  “Not really. We believe people should feel guilty the whole year round, not just for forty days.”

  Vinny laughed and handed him his change. Asa deposited it in the Help Sally Fleming! pickle jar next to the cash register. Vinny peered at the jar. “How’s Sally doing?” he asked.

  “Not good. Sam talked about her in church on Sunday. They went ahead with the transplant, and they’ve got her in isolation. But it looks like she’s got some kind of infection. She’s fevered.”

  Vinny shook his head. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Maybe you could put her on the prayer chain at your church.”

  “We’re one step ahead of you. She’s been on there for a month now. We’re keeping a candle lit for her.”

  “Thank you, Vinny. Times like this, a person needs all the prayer they can get.”

  Vinny peered at Asa. “Is there anything else we can be praying about? Maybe something of a personal nature for you and Jessie?”

  “Not that I know of. But if I think of anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  People have been asking that a lot lately. They’ve been asking how Asa and Jessie are doing and talking about how marriage is so difficult these days, what with Hollywood winking at infidelity and all.

  Asa isn’t sure why people have taken such an interest in marriage. The Sunday before, Bea Majors had risen from her seat at the organ during the prayer time and asked Sam if he could pray for all the marriages in the church.

  “It just seems to me that Satan is hard at work destroying our marriages,” she said from the organ.

  People stared at her. Satan doesn’t get mentioned much at Harmony Friends, but lately Bea has been dragging him out every Sunday. She’s been watching the Reverend Johnny LaCosta of the Johnny LaCosta Worship Center on Wednesday nights after Jeopardy! According to the Reverend Johnny LaCosta, Satan has been working a good deal of overtime.

  She talked with her sister, Opal, about it. Opal thinks Johnny LaCosta is a fraud.

  “Number one,” she told Bea, “don’t trust any minister who accepts Visa or MasterCard. And number two, any minister who names a church after himself is a gasbag and a bozo.”

  Bea thinks Opal is in denial, another thing the Reverend Johnny LaCosta warned about. Bea’s thinking of sending the Reverend a little donation so he can get the truth out to more people. A fifty-dollar donation will get her a prayer cloth touched by the Reverend Johnny LaCosta himself.

  Jessie Peacock suspects people have been talking about her and Asa, though she isn’t sure why. The week before, she had run into Fern Hampton at the Kroger, and Fern had informed her that her nephew Ervin was thinking of becoming a counselor.

  “He never really took the classes,” Fern explained, “but he’s read several books on the subject. He’s working for the street department now, so he’s only available of an evening.” Then she leaned closer to Jessie. “Sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger.”

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  Fern slipped Jessie a piece of paper. “Just in case anyone were to ask, here’s his phone number.” She patted Jessie’s hand. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We all need help every now and then.”

  Fern blames Jessie and Asa’s marriage troubles on the lottery money. She’s discussed it at length with Bea. “It was bound to happen,” she said. “Money changes people.”

  Though Jessie and Asa have noticed people acting a little strange, they haven’t talked about it with one another. Asa was going to raise the subject with Jessie, but then he found the slip of paper in a grocery bag with Ervin written on it, along with a telephone number.

  He anguished about it for several days.

  Maybe this is what people have been talking about, he thought. Maybe this is what Vinny meant when he asked if Jessie and I needed prayer. Everyone knows but me. It’s always the husband who’s the last to know.

  He finally asked Jessie one night after supper. “Uh, honey, I was just wondering how things are going for you. Are you feeling all right? Is everything okay?”

  “Everything’s fine. Couldn’t be better!”

  “Say, by the way, I found this and thought it might by yours.” Asa handed her the piece of paper with Ervin’s name on it.

  Jessie studied the piece of paper, then smiled. “Oh, this is Fern’s nephew. He’s a counselor. Except that right now he’s working for the street department. Fern gave me his number last week at the grocery store.”

  “Are…are you seeing him?”

  “Of course not. I don’t need counseling.” She began to clear the dishes from the table. “It is odd, though. Everyone’s been asking me how I’m doing.”

  “Me too. I wonder if there’s something going on we don’t know about?”

  “Hard telling. The way people gossip in this town, it could be anything.”

  They talked for a while about what they could do with that month’s interest money. Bea Majors has been after Jessie to send money to the Reverend Johnny LaCosta.

  “Jessie, it’s like he knows your heart,” Bea said. “He just stares right out of that TV screen and peers into your soul. Plus, if you give a thousand dollars, he writes your name down in the Book of Life, which he locks in a vault so it’ll be safe when the Lord returns. That way the Lord’ll know who’s been faithful.”

  Jessie told Asa about Bea as they were washing dishes.

  Asa shook his head. “I’m afraid Bea’s straw doesn’t reach the bottom of the glass.”

  “Yeah, something’s not right there. Speaking of Bea, what was that song she played for the offering this past Sunday?”

  “I think it was ‘Tiny Bubbles.’”

  “Maybe we could use this month’s money to hire a new organist for the church.”

  Asa chuckled.

  Instead, Jessie and Asa decided to set aside more money for Wayne and Sally Fleming. They want to get the Flemings out of that trailer and into a house with a yard so the kids can have a safe place to play. But for now they just want Sally to get well.

  Her infection and fever had gotten so bad that Sally had asked to see the kids, so Deena Morrison brought them to the hospital. The doctors let them behind the isolation curtain, but they had to wear masks and gloves.

  Deena told Jessie about it after church.

  “It was pitiful. The kids were crying. Wayne and Sally were crying. I couldn’t bear to watch it.”

  “What are the doctors saying?” Jessie asked.

  “Oh, you know doctors. They won’t say one way or the other. But I don’t see how she can make it. She’s wasting away.”

  The Friendly Women’s Circle met the next Tuesday. They talked about Sally while they stitched their annual fund-raiser qu
ilt for Brother Norman’s shoe ministry to the Choctaw Indians.

  Bea Majors suggested they load Sally in Harvey Muldock’s RV and drive her to the Reverend Johnny LaCosta’s healing service. “He could cure leukemia with one hand tied behind his back. I’ve seen him do it. He can heal just about anything—cancer, consumption, warts.”

  The Friendly Women want to believe people can be healed—they just wish God would use someone more credible than the Reverend Johnny LaCosta.

  “It’s his hair,” Miriam Hodge complained. “Why does it have to be so big? And what’s with the white suit? He looks like Colonel Sanders.”

  Sam was at the meetinghouse that morning. They asked him what he thought of the Reverend Johnny LaCosta.

  “Not much,” he told them.

  Bea whispered to Fern Hampton, “That’s jealousy talking. Sam’s been praying for Sally all these months, and nothing’s happened.”

  Back in January, Bea Majors and Dale Hinshaw had written a letter to the Reverend Johnny LaCosta inviting him to preach the June revival at Harmony Friends Meeting. The only thing they got back was a picture of the Reverend with a request for a donation to expand the Johnny LaCosta Worship Center.

  Dale sent him ten dollars and asked if he could appear with his Scripture eggs on the Reverend’s TV program.

  Bea taped the Reverend’s picture to her bathroom mirror. It’s the first thing she sees every morning.

  Johnny LaCosta has never married and neither has Bea. She thinks the Lord might want them together. It’s the way he looks at her from the television set, like he knows her heart. She’s hoping he’ll come to Harmony for the June revival and they’ll get together. She sent him a picture of herself playing the organ. She signed the back of the picture Fondly, Bea. She was thinking of writing With Deep Affection, but didn’t want to come on too strong.

  The night of Ash Wednesday, she hurried home from Italian Night at the Coffee Cup to watch Jeopardy. Her sister, Opal, watched too. They talked on the phone, guessing the answers and discussing Alex Trebek.