The kerosene lamps stood like before — in the windowsills and off to the sides — only now they were all lit up. The little stage was there too with its preacher’s stand and the purple flag with its They Shall Take Up Serpents written in flowing gold letters across the front.
I stayed close to Granny.
“Howdy Miss Alma,” Granny said. “You lookin’ mighty fine this Fourth of July.”
Miss Alma walked up to us; her dress ballooned out big as a tent, orange with white flowers and a shiny black belt. “Good as can be!” she laughed. When she saw me, she put on a frown. “Your Granmammy done told on you. You know what she say?” Blobs of fat hung off her arms. “She say you ‘bout the sweetest thing she evah lay eyes on. Sweet as shuga she say. I bet you is too! Hmmm hmmm. I bet you is.” She laughed again, a big deep belly laugh like a man’s.
“I won’t never tell you another thing Miss Alma,” Granny said. “Come on Orbie. Let’s go find us a place to sit. I’ll tend to you later, girl.”
Miss Alma laughed.
Granny took me to one of the benches in back. “You and Willis can sit back here. Will you be all right?”
I wasn’t sure if I would be or not. “Where’s Granpaw?”
“Up front a praying. Stand up there, where you can see.”
I climbed up on the bench and stood, leaning against the plank back. Up front I could see a bunch of coloreds kneeling around the altar. I couldn’t see Granpaw anywhere.
“They’s all preachers up there,” Granny said. “Congregation will join in later.”
“Moses coming?” I asked.
“Won’t know till he’s here in the flesh,” Granny said.
Right then I felt a hard thump between my shoulder blades.
“I want you to stop poking people with that stick Bird,” Granny said.
Bird stood behind us, cane extended. She was looking right at me, hat-net bent up over her head. Purple smoke. “Spirit’s trapped, ain’t it?” She cackled so loud you could hear her all over the church house.
“What you talking about?” Granny said.
“Her! In ‘at box!” Bird looked at me again. “You best be on the lookout boy.”
What she said didn’t make any sense; the way she said it did.
“Look out for what Bird?” Granny said.
Bird hit the floor with her cane. “What I’m saying is what! You kind a ignorant, ain’t you?”
“I reckon I’m smart enough for the likes of you,” Granny said.
Bird hit the floor again, cackling. “Now I got her mad! Yes I did! Ah! Ha!”
Granny frowned.
“You mind what I’m a saying boy,” Bird said. She turned herself around and hobbled off toward the front. We watched her find a seat up there and sit down.
“Nobody will sit near her,” Granny said. “Walked all the way over here by herself. Nealy will throw him a fit and blame us. I wouldn’t lose no sleep over what she says.” Granny pointed back toward the church house doors. “Look over yonder Orbie. Look what’s arrived.” There stood Willis, smiling like usual. He walked himself over and climbed up the bench next to me.
“Moses here?” Granny said.
“Yessum. He outside.”
Granny looked at me. “You’ll get to see something tonight.” I got one of those feelings like I was way up high somewhere about to fall. “Willis, you stay here with Orbie,” Granny said.
“I’ll be right up front.”
———————
Nobody dressed up much at Kingdom Church — not that I could see. Gray pants, coveralls, work shirts, suspenders and no neckties. Some people wore jeans. One man came in with dry mud splattered up his pant leg. There were a few church-i-fied, pretty smelling people too — some were white. Colored boys and colored girls came in, all smiley-eyed, and some mean looking — hateful. One tall boy — black as a blackboard and wearing an orange hat like an upside down bowl — stood by the door with his arms crossed. He kept rubbernecking over the crowd of people like he was counting heads or seeing in his own mind who and who wasn’t there. Willis pointed to the windows the white boys had busted out. Somebody had already covered them with pieces of cardboard.
“Think they’ll find out who done that?” I said.
“Already know,” Willis said. “Always know.”
Right then a quiet went over the church house. It started by the door and hushed its way all the way up to the front. The boy in the orange hat hurried out the door.
There was a whistle and a heavy down-clomp of boots out on the porch. Then, through the door came Moses, carrying a flat white box by a handle fixed to the top. It was about the size and shape of a soda pop crate. ‘In Jesus Name’ was printed on the side. Moses held the box out in front of him and walked up the aisle to the preacher’s stand. The boy in the orange hat came in carrying two more boxes, one with a screen over the end. Something inside buzzed and thumped fiercely against the screen.
“Rattlesnake,” Willis said. “Coppahead too.”
When the boy got up to the preacher’s stand, all the people went in around him and Moses. They all kneeled down around the altar there and started praying out loud, all of them at the same time, filling the hall of the little church with a sound like bees — hundreds and thousands of bees humming around a hive — humming, humming, humming. Miss Alma got up in the middle of it all, raised one outstretched hand toward the ceiling and hollered, “Lawd has done make a new creature out of me! Thank you Jesus!” A man shouted, “Amen, sister! Amen!” Granny got up then and wiped her eyes. Other people got up. Some people laughed. Some cried.
A colored boy held up a drum-thing with jingles fixed around it. He went on the stage with another man who had a guitar and a gold tooth. A little skinny woman was there too, holding up a big bass fiddle, bigger than she was. She started thumping the strings and everybody got quiet. The thumping went fast and had a beat you could dance to, like Elvis Presley only better, and then the boy with the drum jingles joined in and the guitar man too and everybody got to swinging back and clapping their hands, singing.
I’m a soldier in the army of the Lord!
I’m a soldier in the army!
Oh I believe I died in the army of the Lord!
Oh I believe I died in the army!
Willis grinned and clapped his hands to the music. People danced and turned themselves around in little circles.
Moses was up on the stage in back of the music players. He picked up one of the boxes. He held it out to the people while they were all singing.
I’m a soldier in the army of the Lord!
I’m a soldier in the army!
When the singing stopped, a white boy jumped up in the middle of everybody. “I’m just fifteen but I believe in God’s signs, praise the Lord! I believe in God’s word! I believe in God!”
“Amen! Hallelujah!” the people shouted.
“Praise his holy name!” The white boy jumped up on the stage. “I believe in taking up serpents. I believe in drinking poison. I believe in whatever God puts on me to do! I believe in God! Say hallelujah!”
“Hallelujah! Praise his holy name!”
The white boy doubled over and frowned like he suddenly got a pain in his stomach. “And these signs shall foller them that believe in my name. You cain’t get around the name of Jesus! Let me hear Amen!”
“Amen!”
“I said let me hear Amen!” he shouted.
“Amen!”
“Praise God!” The white boy held his Bible open so everybody could see. “It says right here that there came a sound from heaven as of a mighty wind, and it filled up all the house. And there appeared cloven tongues like as of fire! And it sat upon them. And they were filled with the Holy Ghost! And they began a speaking in tongues!”
Another preacher, a colored man, raised his eyes to the ceiling, “It don’t matter who you is or where you come from if you loves the Laud! Thank you Jesus!”
“Thank you Jesus, that’s right,” said
the white boy and everybody laughed and clapped their hands and the boy went over to the side and a big man in coveralls stepped in and started to preach like the boy had. It went on like that for a long time, one preacher after another, all colored except for that boy, going on about healing and snakes and what all. One began to holler around about hell, fire and brimstone, how people that weren’t saved would be thrown in a lake of fire.
But what about Daddy? He was saved, wasn’t he? How come he got thrown in a lake of fire?
“Wha-what you crying about?” Willis said.
“I ain’t crying,” I said.
“Yes you is.”
“I’m scared Willis.”
Willis right away climbed down off the bench and went up to the front where Granny was standing. He took her by the hand and she looked down at him and then up where I was on the bench. Then she came back and sat down next to me. Willis stayed up front. Happy tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t mad or anything. She put her arm around me. “What’s the matter sweetheart?”
“I’m scared Granny.”
“Of what? These people?”
“Uh huh.”
“Oh now, they won’t hurt you none.”
Granny’s arm around me made me feel better, even with all her veins. “Moses will be bringing them snakes out in a minute. You want me to take you home?”
I looked off to the front of the church house. Some of the people had cleared away. There was Moses, standing in front of the stage now. One of the boxes sat on the altar. I could see the words ‘In Jesus Name’ printed on the side.
“I’ll stay,” I said.
Somebody shouted again. Then another and another till there were a whole bunch of people, doing it all over again, crying and praising the name of Jesus.
“You’ll stay with me?” I said.
“I’m right here,” Granny said.
And she stayed too, all through Moses walking down the isle, taking snakes out and offering them around. Some people took, some didn’t.
The snakes turned their brown gold heads ever which a way, charging them around at the people. Their slick white bellies came up orange in the lamplight.
I hugged in closer to Granny.
A little black man with silver eyeglasses too big for his head stood with a copperhead draped over his hands. “Let a Baptist see one deze and he’ll sho back off. Sho ‘nuff. He be all right it come to baptizing and praying, but when it come to dis, he be partial. Ya’ll can’t be partial when it come to da Word.” He held the snake out like he wanted to give it to everybody there. “Dis here da Word!”
Right then I saw Willis up front. A big golden rattlesnake stood up from his hand — like a giant letter ‘S’ — bigger around than his arm.
“That boy’s something now ain’t he?” Granny was facing toward the front but with her eyes closed. Her eyeballs moved underneath her eyelids. “Uh huh. He shore got the gift.”
Moses came on down the aisle. The tall boy in the orange hat followed him with one of the boxes. Moses plucked snakes from the box, holding them up whilst they twisted and turned and slicked their tongues out.
“He offers you one, you just shake your head ‘no’,” Granny said. She stood up. I stood up with her.
Underneath Moses’ black coat, I could see where the sweat had soaked through his shirt. He was holding two little snakes in one hand and a great big snake with brown and gold beads all over its body in the other. He offered that one to Granny but she just smiled and shook her head ‘no’ and then, without even looking at me, he turned and went over to the other side of the aisle where there were some other people he tried to give the snakes to. They didn’t want any either.
That’s when he looked back at me. That’s when he walked over. Granny tried to shake her head — I think to tell Moses not to bother — but he wasn’t looking at her.
The big snake raised its beady head to look at me, and when it did, the two little ones in Moses’ other hand swung around to look at me too, pea-colored eyes, black slits up the middle. I could see their bellies, their tongues slicking in and out. I stared into the pea-colored eyes, unable to move.
The church house got quiet. I could feel all the people, looking at us. Then it was like all at once all the people went away, and then there was just Moses and me, standing off somewhere by ourselves, looking at each other.
Then Daddy’s face came on top of Moses’ face. Daddy’s voice, not out loud, but quiet came inside my head, spooky words I’d never heard before.
If you take this up son, you’ll have to live with it. All you got to do is reach out.
Daddy jerked his chin and Moses’ face came again. There was the church house again too and all the people. I could move now. I could run away if I wanted. I could shake my head for Moses to take away the snakes if I wanted. I looked around at all the people, at Miss Alma and Granpaw, at the fiddle-woman and at Bird. Granny stood beside me with her eyes closed like before. Without even looking at me, she raised her hand and put it on my shoulder.
That’s when I reached out.
16
White Boy
Going the old wagon road from Kingdom Church to Kingdom Town, Miss Alma’s was the first house you came to. Kingdom Town was just clapboard houses — wet-wood shacks mostly — scattered over a hill of pine trees in front of the old railroad tracks. Miss Alma’s sat back from the road, nice, not junky, not like some of the other houses. It was painted yellow with white trim and had boxes in the windows full of pink and white flowers that seemed to nod and bob about even when there wasn’t any breeze.
Whenever Miss Alma laughed her teeth shocked out at you like a clean white plate. I liked her, and I think she liked me too because she was always kidding — not like Granpaw, not teasing or anything — just to get a smile across my face. “Boy I thought you’s gonna kiss dat old snake! I shorely did! I thought old Moses gone marry you to it. Here dey come, I thought. Mister Orbie and old Missus Coppahead! Sho ‘nuff!”
She was busy all the time. Everywhere you looked there her big self would be, hanging out clothes, chopping wood or sweeping the floors. She had two little boys me and Willis played with. Fable and Vern. There were other kids too — all colored — Dewey and Daryl and Daryl’s little sister, Jewel Anne. Jewel Anne had white eyes and braids going ever which a way over the top of her head.
They all seemed to like me. They liked me so much I forgot to be afraid. I think it was because of the grownups they liked me. And the grownups liked me because of how I held onto that snake. What with that and me being a white boy down from Detroit and all, I reckon they thought I was special.
———————
Miss Alma put up with most anything we wanted to do as long as it didn’t hurt nobody. She let us use her chairs to make a jail. I’d make us up a story to play, you know, like Mighty Joe Young or Elvis Presley and Jailhouse Rock, or some other kind of show with gangsters and guns, and Superman or Dick Tracy to be the good guy. There were always stories you needed a jail for.
Fable made up stories too. He said his stories were for real even when we all knew it was a lie. He was a little bigger than the rest of us, had a round face with big eyes that would go wide open all of a sudden like in a surprise. Sometimes he stared and walked at you, zombie like, with his arms straight down to his sides. It was hard to tell if he was being for real or just pretending. One time we found him sitting on a tree stump, boohooing like he was hurt real bad. We all came up real quiet and stood around him there. Vern reached out and put his hand on Fable’s shoulder like to see if he was okay or not.
“Fooled ya’ll!” Fable hollered, jumping up, sniggering and laughing, pointing his finger at everybody. “Ya’ll just a bunch of fools!”
“Boy, what you do dat fo?” Vern said. “We thought you hurt.” Vern’s hair was like black fuzz. It stuck straight up off his head. He had a snotty nose flat as a spoon, and was all the time doing things with his hands. Like putting one hand up to shade
his eyes, pretending to be like a scout. One time he stuck his arms straight out to the sides and hung his head down, pretending like he was Jesus. Jesus on the cross with fuzzed up hair. It was stupid. When we played our shows he was always the one that went to the electric chair. That was because of his hair. It already looked electrocuted.
———————
Fable and Vern’s pappy was Ezra. He had to be on a chain gang. Fable bragged it was because he robbed a bank and killed nine people. Miss Alma said Reverend Pennycall was the reason. “Dat Reverend. He gone beat dis po colored boy fa stealin’ molasses. Matt Willy’s boy. Yessah. Gone beat him wid a shovel! Would have killed him too, Ezra not stop his hand comin’ down! All dat Circle Stump bunch jump in on him den. Uh huh. Brothas Of The Watch. Claim he hit Reverend Pennycall! Horseshit! Bullshit too! What I think.”
It was the only time I ever heard Miss Alma cuss.
———————
We played this game where you had to put your thumb in your mouth and blow till you passed out. Then you had dreams. I dreamed I couldn’t move cause I was tied up on a railroad track with a train coming. The sky was pitch black and I was terrified, fighting, trying to get loose. The train got bigger and bigger till I could see sparks and smoke, boiling out from underneath. When the wheels cut into me, I let out a scream and came full awake.
Fable and Vern stood over me, laughing, which made me mad.
“What’re you laughing at?”
“You,” Vern said. “Twitching down there, look like a worm.”
“How long was I gone?”
“Time it take a fly to jump,” Fable said.
“No time,” Vern said.
That’s how it would go. You would think you were gone for a long time but really it was only a second or two — the time it took your breath to come back.
Fable said he dreamed two giant witches had him turned upside down by the legs. Said they were going to make a wish and then tear him apart like you would a wishbone. “But den I blowed dey heads off wit ma gun!”
Then Like the Blind Man: Orbie's Story Page 14
