Sufficient Grace
Page 26
It is amazing, though, what a body can live through. Reuben told me once about some scientists that froze a rat and then thawed him out fifty years later. After he was melted, that little Lazarus remembered things from before he was frozen. It is a wonder that the rat could come back alive from the icy dead; I guess he wasn’t really dead after all, just waiting. Now, I’ve seen a yearling deer froze to a fence post and leftover apples iced onto a tree, but I don’t suppose neither was much good after the thaw.
Samuel didn’t end up going down amongst the trees of Babylon; he didn’t fill another secret grave behind the church. He was laid next to Grandma in the plot Ingwald had planned for himself. I was surprised we were able to get him in the ground. Must be the machines they got now for digging can break right through the deep frozen earth. In old times, folks had to predict the number of graves they would need over winter and dig them before the frost set in hard. I do wonder how they decided who would die. I also wonder when the thaw will come again to Failing. Spring takes her time in coming here, but I am happy to be kept waiting for a while.
Whatever is buried is meant to be revealed; whatever is secret is meant to be known. With the measure you use, it will be measured to you — and even more. Whoever has will be given more; whoever does not have, even what he has will be taken from him.
So I wait; I wait listening to the sound of my breath coming in and going out of my body. At the funeral, I asked my momma if she could hear me breathing. She said she couldn’t, but it sounded so loud to me, I still think she could; I think they all could hear the sound of my lungs working.
I understand: just because you think you don’t hear something don’t mean it’s not there. Maybe you just didn’t listen close enough or maybe you just can’t remember if you even tried to listen. Mom and Daddy keep bringing me forth on Sunday mornings to be anointed with oil during the prayers for the sick; they’re keeping a close watch on me. Holding hands they stand, nearest to one another, together with me in our lonely pew. Reuben spends his Sundays running that trap line with Peter. They’ve got miles of line crisscrossing both my uncle’s and my grandma’s land.
I will feel better soon; I keep telling them that I will be better soon. I just need to get more sleep and stop pondering all the time about frogs freezing in the mud and thawing in the spring. I need to stop thinking about breathing, sweet air coming in and going out. I need to stop praying about Samuel in the deep, dark hole, and what is buried with him in his frozen brain. I ponder on blame and babies and bathwater and such. I wonder what is worse: creating life that will just die or destroying life that should not ever live? Who is guilty, the gardener or the snake? And who will carry this weight for eternity, Samuel or me?
Naomi ain’t helping. While her parents wait upon the Lord with fasting and prayer, she has been staying with us, sleeping in my bed.
She lays in the crook of my arm and whispers all night. ‘Did she breathe? Did she fly?’
I can’t answer her questions, because I can’t hear the answers.
I’ve got enough questions of my own. When those who have fallen asleep rise again to meet Christ in the sky, will their memories thaw and fly with them? Will I fly up to meet Jesus in the sky? I don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight, neither. But at least I’ll have Naomi laying by my side. From the beginning, from the first breath God gave man, God gave Naomi to me.
After my momma named me Ruth, Gloria thought it only right to name her miracle Naomi. They knew we would be friends forever, and I would follow Naomi and protect her wherever she would go. I have done my best to keep their promise to each other; I have done my best to keep Naomi safe.
My love for her burns within me like a flame; she is the child I carry within my heart. I am the lover of her soul; she will not be taken from me. I will be with Naomi, should the Lord tarry, until we lay down together and die. Even then, we will hold each other in death, breathless and asleep underneath the ice and snow and mud. We will hold each other and together never be alone.
AND HERE WE ARE AGAIN. NIGHTCRAWLER BABIES SLIDE UP through the mud, sniffing to see if they can smell spring on the air. This old birch, with her slippery new skin, has shot out three coiled tendrils, green infant branches spreading wide and swaying in the wind. Now I know which one is the innocent fawn and which one is the guilty thief. I wonder still why God didn’t take the momma this time.
It sure ain’t amazing grace, but it is sufficient, near enough.
My grace is sufficient for you,
for my power is made perfect in weakness.
2 Corinthians 12:9
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Due to the highly allusive nature of Sufficient Grace, I am deeply indebted to the biblical, Norse and Ojibway stories and traditions represented. The work of the great hymn writers has had a profound effect on my life and my ear. Curriculum available from the School Violence Prevention Program under the auspice of the Native American Initiative of the Center for Civic Education is an excellent source for legends such as ‘The Forsaken Brother’.
As this book began under the auspices of the Creative Writing MA program at the University of Melbourne, I would like to recognise the unwavering support of my supervisor, Marion May Campbell. Tony Birch, my Creative Writing PhD supervisor, was also instrumental in the development and extension of my work. The encouragement provided to me by the students, friends and mentors I met through the program was — and continues to be — invaluable. I owe special thanks to Josiane Behmoiras, Claire Thomas, Victoria Reeve, Kate Middleton, Olivia Fitzgibbon, and the Friday night gang. Also, I wish to recognise the members of Men’s Group, including Michael Farrell, Julian Novitz, Kent MacCarter, Aaron Mannion and Emmett Stinson. Many other friends and colleagues have contributed to the manuscript, including Michelle Walter, Penelope Goodes, Ali Lemer and Stefan Laszczuk.
Sections of Sufficient Grace were previously published in altered form; I appreciate the contribution of the editors of Postgraduate Review, Strange, antiTHESIS and Wet Ink.
My dear friends Michele Halvorson Michaels and Mike Kramer passed away during the writing of this book; I honour their memory. For those I have forgotten or cannot mention, I very much value your help.
Thanks also to the Felix Meyer Scholarship for Literature 2007, which granted funds for me to revise the manuscript. The Unpublished Manuscript Prize for an Emerging Victorian Writer in the 2009 Victorian Premier’s Literary Awards also provided many opportunities for me, including meeting a dear friend, Catherine Harris; and my encouraging and expert agent, Clare Forster of Curtis Brown. I’m grateful for the entire team at Scribe Publications, including the graciously meticulous Ian See. The guidance, insistence and understanding of my editor and publisher, Aviva Tuffield, have remained steady throughout a very difficult time. Without her belief in me and the manuscript, I may have never finished the book. My gratitude is permanent.
I wish to acknowledge the steadfast support of my family, especially my siblings Ryan, Lori and May, their families, and my parents Byron and Judith. My father taught me to hunt and fish, and my mother taught me to read and love; all of these skills were necessary to write this book. The love and care of my family in Australia, especially Brad Turner and Aaron Mannion, carried me throughout the creation of Sufficient Grace. Brad, you brought me here. Aaron, you kept me here; you are my favourite writer and my best friend.
Finally, I appreciate that although this is a work of fiction, people close to me — now or in the past — may read this novel as a betrayal of both the family and church in which I was raised. I have not intended to cause any hurt. I wrote what I was given to write.
Contents
About the Author
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
November
1
2
3
4
&n
bsp; 5
6
7
8
December
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
January
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
February
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
March
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
Epilogue
Epigraph
Acknowledgements