The Blessed

by Ann H. Gabhart

  Isaac grabbed for him and caught the man’s arm. The force of the man’s fall pulled Isaac so hard against the railing that it cracked and gave way. They both fell down on the roof and began sliding toward the edge. Isaac grabbed with his other hand for something to stop them but found nothing to grasp as the shingles scrubbed the palm of his hand. He threw out his leg and caught his foot on the broken railing to halt their slide.

  Brother Elwood stared up at Isaac. “Let me go.”

  “No.” Isaac met the man’s eyes. The fall seemed to have pulled him back to sanity.

  “If you don’t, we’ll both die, but you may be able to climb back up if you turn me loose,” the man said quietly.

  He could. He didn’t have to keep risking his life to help the man. The thought surfaced in his mind and settled there. The man’s arm was already slipping through Isaac’s hand. All Isaac had to do was relax his hold the barest bit and the man would slide on down the roof away from him and over the edge. Then Lacey would be free. Her screams were rising up to him. Screams for him. He’d seen the look in her eyes. He knew she cared for him. They could have the new beginning.

  It seemed like an eternity passed as he stared down at the man before he tightened his grip on the man’s arm. “Grab hold of my arm with your other hand, Brother Elwood. Help is coming.”

  “The Lord helps the weak and the weary.”

  For a second, Isaac thought Brother Elwood was reaching toward his arm. “That’s right. Just grab hold. We can hang on until help comes.” The railing popped ominously behind them and gave a few inches, but it held.

  “‘Surely thou didst set them in slippery places: thou castedst them down into destruction.’ My sins have caused too much destruction already.” He turned his eyes away from Isaac’s face. “May the Lord have mercy on my soul.”

  He gave a sudden twist of his arm to break free of Isaac’s hold. Isaac grabbed for him with his other hand, but he couldn’t reach him. The man smiled up at him as he slid over the edge of the roof with no attempt to catch himself. Isaac heard the man’s body hit the ground. A sickening thud. And down below Lacey stopped screaming.

  Brother Forrest drove them back to the Ebenezer church. The preacher’s broken body lay in the bed of the wagon wrapped in a Shaker blanket. It was decided by everyone to be the best way.

  Preacher Palmer hadn’t been a true Shaker Believer. And there were those among the elders and eldresses who thought he had intended to fall from the roof, that it wasn’t an accident brought about by his tormented mind. Such was a sin that could not be confessed and forgiven, so there was no way he could be laid in the sacred ground of the Shaker cemetery. As they spoke of what must be done, Lacey heard little sympathy in their voices. They had more sorrow in their voices when they talked of how their Feast Day had been spoiled.

  Lacey had stood on the fringes and listened until she could bear no more. Wasn’t it enough that the poor man lay battered and dead? And that his own wife had watched him sliding down the rooftop with more fear for the man trying to save him than for her husband?

  Isaac had come down from the roof after Brother Forrest and one of the other brothers had climbed through the window and run up the stairs to pull him back to safety. They had led him away without letting him talk to her, but she had seen his eyes. As battered as the poor preacher’s body.

  And so she had gone right up to Eldress Frieda and told her what was going to happen. “I will take him back to Ebenezer where he can be buried beside his beloved wife.”

  “I thought you were his wife,” Eldress Frieda said.

  “Second wife, but never truly.”

  “And then what of you, Sister Lacey? Will you return to us to continue your journey to true salvation?”

  “No.”

  “I thought not, but I mourn your return to the pits of sin.” She appeared to be truly sorry as she looked at Lacey. “You showed promise of great gifts.”

  “I didn’t ever see the first angel.”

  “My sister, there are many gifts of the spirit. The gift our mother honors most is the gift to be simple.”

  “The gift to be simple.” Lacey repeated her words as she reached out and touched the woman’s arm. “Do you think that’s something like ‘blessed are the meek’?”

  The eldress tilted her head a little to the side as she considered Lacey’s question. “The meek. Perhaps. Or the pure in heart for they know what things are to be treasured.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll carry away from here. The knowledge of what gifts to treasure in my heart. But I can never walk the Shaker way.”

  “Your words sadden me, but we make none stay against their will. I will send someone to fetch your daughter.”

  “Send Sister Aurelia.” Lacey looked past the eldress to where Aurelia was surrounded by a bevy of sisters. Her face was pale and distraught.

  “Nay, Sister Lacey,” the eldress said as she looked over her shoulder at the sisters. “You can see for yourself her distress. She did not mean for this to happen. To ask her to go get Sister Rachel would be unkind.”

  “But necessary. She visited Rachel in the night and tried to turn her affections from me with stories that the angels say I don’t want her anymore.”

  “Are you sure that you do?” Eldress Frieda studied Lacey’s face. “After all, Sister Rachel is not your natural daughter, and if she has turned from you, then perhaps it would be best to leave the young sister with us. We have much to offer a child here. Much more than a lone woman going out into the world. If you truly love her, you will want what’s best for her.”

  Lacey bit back the angry words that wanted to spill out and instead pulled in a slow breath. The simple gift of meekness, she reminded herself. The eldress wasn’t intending to be heartless. She believed what she was saying. “Let me talk to Sister Aurelia and then I will let Rachel choose.” Her heart went cold as her words echoed in her ears. How could she have said that? What if Rachel chose to stay?

  “Very well. I will tell Sister Aurelia to come speak to you, but you must not torment her.”

  You mean the way she tormented the poor preacher. The words were in her head, but again she held them back as her eyes went to the man’s body lying broken on the ground. Someone had mercifully spread a cover over him. A cover spotted now with drying blood.

  The circle of sisters around Aurelia parted to allow Eldress Frieda to speak to her. Aurelia shook her head twice, but the eldress kept talking until Aurelia sent an agonized look toward Lacey and bowed her head in submission. She hesitantly walked toward Lacey, but stopped halfway. Lacey went to her. The other sisters didn’t follow Aurelia, but they had their ears cocked their way to listen.

  “I didn’t think he would do this, Lacey. I didn’t.”

  “What did you think, Aurelia?”

  “He wouldn’t help me. He said I was the one who had sinned and brought temptation to him. Me. Like none of it had to do with him.” She looked at Lacey with beseeching eyes. “My father called me a Jezebel and made me get up out of my birthing bed and take the baby away. He hoped we would both die. He told me that.”

  “What of your mother?” Lacey hardened her heart. She didn’t want to feel pity for her.

  “She died when I was young. The same as your own. Elwood came to our church over in the next county to do a revival. My father has ever been cruel to me and Elwood was so kind, so thoughtful. He made me promises. Promises he later denied. I had no choice but to lay that precious child in a box on his porch. My tears fell on her tiny forehead while I asked the angels to watch over her.”

  Lacey shut her eyes for a moment and couldn’t keep from imagining Aurelia’s pain. “Then what did you do?”

  “The angels led me here where I could be safe. I was sick for a long time, but my sisters healed me and they loved me and they forgave me.”

  “But you could never forgive him?”

  “Nay.” Aurelia sent a quick glance toward the preacher’s body and shivered a little. “Could y
ou have?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No one can know who hasn’t felt what I felt. But I was able to forget and find happiness here. I really do see the angels, Lacey. I really do.” Her eyes appealed to Lacey. “I want you to believe that. It must have been the devil that brought him here to punish us both.”

  “And me? Did you want me to be punished?”

  “Nay. I only wanted Rachel to love me. To know I loved her.”

  “Do you want to be her mother?” The words almost choked Lacey, but she said them.

  Aurelia looked at Lacey for a long time without answering. “I cannot leave this place. I belong here. Evermore.”

  “You can be no more than a sister to Rachel here.”

  “I know that. Sometimes the things that are best to do hurt the most.” Aurelia licked her lips. “I gave her to you once. I give her to you again.”

  Such a wave of relief swept through Lacey that she thought her knees might buckle, but she forced strength back through her. “First you must tell her the angels were wrong when they told her I gave her to the Shakers because I didn’t want her.”

  “The angels are never wrong.”

  “But it wasn’t the angels talking. It was you.”

  Aurelia stared at Lacey for a long moment before she squared her shoulders and said, “I will tell her. For you, Lacey, I will tell her. And then I will bring her to you.”

  While she was gone, Brother Forrest brought the wagon and the brothers picked up the preacher and laid him gently in the wagon bed as though even now he might feel pain. Then one of the sisters brought a clean blanket to spread atop the one that was stained with the preacher’s blood. Eldress Frieda came back over to stand silently beside Lacey, whether to offer her support or to guard her, Lacey wasn’t sure which.

  “You can sit on the wagon if you wish,” the eldress said after a long time.

  “Nay, I am able to stand.” She said the Shaker word purposely. A courtesy to the woman’s kindness. She hesitated a long moment as the silence gathered around them again before she asked, “The other brother, Brother Isaac, was he all right?”

  “They say he seemed so when he walked away, but if he has injuries, they will be tended to. You need have no worries in that regard.”

  “Thank you,” Lacey said formally and let the silence gather again as the long minutes ticked by. A bell sounded to summon the Shakers back to their duties, and all but Eldress Frieda and Brother Forrest turned obediently for their houses. The day was passing. Not a day like any other, but come morning, they would once again go about their duties the same as yesterday and the day after tomorrow. Lacey had no idea what the days to come would hold for her. Or for Rachel.

  “They come,” the eldress said.

  Lacey turned to watch Rachel and Aurelia walking slowly toward them. Aurelia held the child’s hand. Rachel looked scared. Lacey had seen the same look on her face the day they’d buried Miss Mona. And the day Sister Janie had taken her hand to lead her away from Lacey here in the Shaker village.

  “You must let her decide, as you promised,” Eldress Frieda said.

  Lacey didn’t speak. She simply held her hand out to her child. Rachel looked up at Aurelia, who smiled down at her before she took Rachel’s hand and put it into Lacey’s hand. Her little hand felt so good that Lacey had to blink back tears.

  “Do you want to go with her, Sister Rachel?” Eldress Frieda’s voice was stern. “Or do you want to stay with your sisters?”

  Rachel looked solemnly up at Lacey. “I want to go with Lacey. She loves me more than all the worms under the ground.”

  Lacey blinked hard and choked back a sob before she could say, “But not as much as Jesus.”

  “But plenty enough,” Rachel said and grabbed Lacey around the waist.

  The tears spilled out of Lacey’s eyes and streamed down her cheeks. Aurelia reached over and gently wiped them away. “The pure in heart. Don’t let her forget how much I loved her,” she said softly before she turned to walk away with the eldress.

  And now they were carrying the preacher back to his rightful burying spot beside Miss Mona. No one spoke the whole journey. Not Brother Forrest. Not Lacey. Not Rachel. But Rachel leaned her head against Lacey’s breast and that was enough.

  When Brother Forrest stopped the horses in front of the church, he stared down at his hands on the reins as he said, “What are you going to tell them when they ask how he died?”

  He looked up at the church graveyard and she knew his thinking. Those who killed themselves were laid outside sanctified ground. Her voice carried not a whiff of doubt as she looked toward Miss Mona’s headstone. “I’ll tell them what happened. That he lost his balance and fell from a roof.”

  Brother Forrest was silent for a moment as he seemed to be considering her words. Then he nodded slightly. “Yea, you’ll be speaking the truth.”

  33

  The funeral was plain. The church was still without a pastor and nobody suggested bringing in a preacher from town for the services. This or that deacon had been filling the pulpit.What with it being planting season, none of them had the time to be out hunting preachers. Lacey was just as glad. It only seemed right to have one of the deacons stand up and read the Scripture and pray the prayers over the man who had been their leader for so many years.

  Deacon Morrison spoke the words over the preacher’s body. Normally Deacon Crutcher would have been the one chosen for such a job, but it had only been a week since he’d laid his youngest son in the ground. Nobody would have looked ill on him if he hadn’t shown up at the church at all. But he had come, hammering and sawing with the rest to build the casket box while Reuben and some others dug a grave out next to Miss Mona.

  Lacey had sat in the church the whole time. In the preacher’s wife’s pew. She hadn’t been a proper wife to him in life, but she could do right by him in death. So she kept watch over the preacher in her Shaker dress. She stripped off the white collar and draped a black shawl over her shoulders that somebody brought her. She didn’t remember who. The churchwomen had streamed to the church to offer kindness to her. And to Rachel. More than one of them offered to take Rachel home with them and give her a bed the night before. The women waited for Lacey to make the child go, but Rachel clung to Lacey.

  So she had put her arm around Rachel and pulled her even closer while she told the well-meaning women no. “The last few weeks have been hard for Rachel. I’ll let her do what she wants.”

  Rachel relaxed against her and Lacey was glad that she didn’t have to stop touching her. Besides, the child needed to be there with her father. No one but Lacey and Aurelia knew that truth, but if someday Rachel asked about her father, Lacey could tell her that she’d kept the death watch over him. The churchwomen brought food and a quilt and a pillow for Rachel. Then after they prayed with Lacey and over the preacher, they’d all left except for two of the older women who had no young children at home.

  Cassie and Jo Ann settled into the pew on either side of her and Rachel to sit through the night with them. They talked of grandchildren and crops and garden beans for a while, but eventually the talk turned to the trouble that had befallen the church. First little Jimmy’s accident and now the preacher.

  The older of the two, Jo Ann, clucked her tongue when she talked about how Sadie Rose had taken to her bed and turned her face to the wall. “Poor Deacon Crutcher is quite beside himself with grief not just for the boy but for Sadie Rose too. And the dear boys. Lost their little brother and now their mother can’t pull herself together to give them any sort of comfort.”

  “Such a shame. She’s always been so strong in the spirit.” Cassie shook her head. She was a heavy woman who suffered in the heat, and now she plucked a cardboard fan from the pew behind them and began to wave it in front of her face. “She and Mona had a way of taking the Bible and walking a troubled soul through it until they found some peace. But they say the poor woman won’t even put her hand on a Bible since little Jimmy passed on
.”

  “It’s only been a few days,” Lacey murmured. “It can’t be easy to lose a child.” Her arm tightened around Rachel, dozing against her side.

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I’ve buried two,” Cassie said, her voice solemn. “That was before you came to stay with Mona. One dear little baby girl never drew breath and the other, a boy, took a fever when he was two.”

  “We aren’t promised a life without troubles. That’s for sure,” Jo Ann said as she reached across Lacey and Rachel to pat Cassie’s hand. “But you carried on.”

  “What else can a body do?” Cassie sighed sadly. “The Bible promises the Lord won’t heap more on us than we can bear up under, but there’s been times when I’ve had to wonder.” She gave Lacey a concerned look in the dim lamplight. “But I shouldn’t be going on about my griefs. You’ve got enough troubles right now without me adding to your sorrow. If you want to try to doze a little, we’ll keep the watch.”

  “No, I’ll watch. I owe him that much. He tried to do right by me.”

  That was what she was prepared to tell his congregation if they asked her to say words, but they didn’t. Deacon Morrison did the talking. For them all, he said. His voice shook as he told about building the church house and how young they’d all been then. Over thirty years before. Deacon Crutcher sat in his accustomed pew with his four remaining sons and listened. He looked pale and troubled and made no move to get up to add any words to Deacon Morrison’s. He did add his strength to the other deacons and Reuben to carry the preacher out to the grave and carefully lower the coffin by ropes into the hole.

  After Deacon Morrison solemnly spoke the dust-to-dust grave words, all but the deacons and Reuben turned back to the church house where the women had filled a wagon bed with covered dishes on the shady side of the church away from the graveyard. Lacey held Rachel’s hand tight as they turned to follow the women, but Deacon Crutcher stepped in front of them.