Reverend of Silence

by Pamela Sparkman

  “Before I explain, I want you to take back what you said about not going.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I, as your best friend, am going to do you a favor.”

  “A favor,” I repeated. “What favor?”

  He smiled like a devil who had a secret. “Take it back and tell me you’ll go to the dance.”

  “What are you going on about? I’ve already told my parents I didn’t want to go. They understood and they’re not making me now.”

  “Take it back,” he persisted.

  “Noah—”

  “Look, Sam,” he said, leaning forward. “Do you trust me?”

  I nodded. “Yes, sure. I trust you. But—”

  “Trust me, Sam.”

  “I said I did.”

  “Then. Take. It. Back.”

  I blinked. “All right, Noah. I take it back.”

  He grinned. “Good. Wear your best suit. And I’ll bring the best girl.”

  “You’re bringing Lucy?” He bit into an apple. And chewed. Slowly. “I thought Lucy wasn’t allowed to attend social events because of how she was treated.” He took another bite and chewed like we weren’t discussing anything important. “Noah!” I wanted to punch him. “How did you get your parents’ permission to bring Lucy?”

  “I didn’t get their permission. I said I wanted to bring Lucy to the dance. They said no.” Crunch.

  “But I thought you—”

  “Lucy said she was going to the dance with or without their permission.”

  I choked on air. “What?”

  Noah smiled like a devil who had many, many secrets. “Oh yes, you should have seen her. She was writing furiously on her slate, my slate. Signing with emotion in her eyes. She was all over the room, Sam, unable to sit still. I’d never in my life seen her like that.”

  “What made her so excitable?”

  “I know your name came up at least a dozen times. She said she wanted to see you before going away and they couldn’t protect her forever. At any rate, you would have been proud of her.” Crunch.

  My heart beat wildly. “What did your father say?” I asked, leaning in, wishing I’d been there.

  “Say? He sat there like he’d been taken prisoner in a foreign land. I don’t think he knew what to say.” Noah winked. “It was glorious.”

  “He didn’t give her permission?”

  He shrugged. “She was busy sewing her dress this morning. She’s not waiting for it.”

  My mouth dropped open.

  Noah took another bite of his apple. “Papa told me this morning I could take Lucy to the dance. You can close your mouth, Sam.”

  I shoved Noah’s shoulder. “You rat.”

  Noah chunked his apple core and started eyeing the bread Mama packed for me. “You gonna eat that?”

  I broke off half. “Here, take it.”

  “Thanks.” He broke off a large piece and stuffed it in his mouth. We stared out over the stream together, ignoring the sounds of our classmates.

  “Maybe I should get a haircut,” I said. It was getting rather long and unruly.

  Noah inspected me critically and then determined, “A little sprucing up wouldn’t hurt.” I raised a brow. He shrugged and said, “Or not. Lucy seems to like you just as you are.”

  I smiled at that. “Will you tell her I can’t wait to see her at the dance?”

  “I’ll tell her,” he said.

  I took a bite of bread. “Thanks, Noah.”

  “You’re welcome, Sam.”

  By the day of the dance, I was on tenterhooks, and for many reasons. I’d not seen Lucy since I’d kissed her, nearly four weeks ago. The first two weeks, she’d been busy trying to piece together enough dresses to get her by. Noah said their father had offered to buy Lucy more, but their mother refused him. She’d not wanted to go into town to shop. I knew why. Noah had told me the stories of when Lucy was a little girl. Her mother had taken her shopping to buy a dress. They’d stepped into a little shop for tea and at some point, a woman had accidently poured chocolate on Lucy. It had been hot, and it had burned her. The woman didn’t even apologize. She’d just stared at Lucy with contempt as though it had been Lucy’s fault. Her mother had taken her shopping another time and heathen and wicked and cursed had been whispered as they’d passed by people on the street. Of course, Lucy hadn’t heard the words that were spoken, but she’d seen the looks given to her and she’d seen the hurt reflected in her mother’s eyes. Now, their mother refused to go into town anymore.

  I think that was why Mr. Hallison came home two weeks ago, two weeks before Lucy was to leave for school, with bolts of lace, sateen, muslin, silk, poplin, linen, and fine wool—all in different colors. According to Noah, his father had said to his mother, “Since you’ll not go shopping to buy yourselves new dresses, then I’m left to bring home what you need to make new ones. I’m tired of seeing my wife and daughters in rags. Make new dresses for Lucy before she leaves.”

  Noah said his mother had fingered the fabric with tears in her eyes. “You purchased silk. And lace. We could have made do without the finer things, Jasper.”

  Noah had been standing in the room when all this had been taking place. He said his father removed his hat, held it in his hands, turning it this way and that, shifting on his feet, before saying, “You’ve been making do long enough, wife. And . . . I was hoping you would also make a few things for yourself.” Then he cleared his throat and said, “I want Celia and Louisa to have new dresses too.” Then he’d marched out of the room quick as he’d come in. The ladies had spent the next two weeks making all new things for themselves.

  But now it was finally the day of the dance and I was finally going to get to see her. It felt like a special occasion. More than just an ordinary dance.

  I smoothed my hands over my coat and then ran my fingers through my hair.

  “You look handsome,” my father said, standing in my doorway. He was wearing knee-length breeches worn over stockings, a collared shirt turned up with a ruffled cravat worn around his neck, and a tailcoat cut high over his breeches.

  I looked back at myself and smiled, thinking I looked sort of like his twin. “Thank you.”

  He stepped forward and procured a topper from behind his back. “I thought perhaps you might want to wear this tonight.” He set it just so upon my head. “Yes,” he said. “This is what you needed. I think your mother would say you look dapper.”

  “You think so?” I asked, feeling a little nervous.

  “Don’t worry, Sam,” Papa said. “You look very fine indeed. You ready to go?”

  Nodding, I said, “I think so.”

  Mama was waiting for us at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a long brown silk dress with short puffed sleeves and gloves that came to her elbows. A hat placed at a jaunty side angle sat atop her head. Curls of her dark hair peeked out. She smiled that soft smile of hers as we approached.

  “Well, we clean up quite nicely, don’t we?” she said.

  “You look beautiful.” Papa kissed her on the cheek.

  “Thank you.” She handed Papa his hat and after placing it on his head, he helped Mama with her shawl.

  We rode off in the carriage, the three of us, arriving at the church’s ballroom early enough that my parents could see to all the guests as they arrived. The musicians were tuning their instruments. The refreshments had already been set out in a separate room and the decorations had already been done up: candelabras lit, flowers and plants strategically placed. There was nothing for me to do except wait.

  An hour later, the room was a crush of people. Members of the church which extended to family and friends had been invited to attend. Papa would have invited any and all had we had a larger ballroom to accommodate more. He wanted to bring people together, give them a space for innocent recreation. And they certainly seemed to appreciate the sentiment as the dance floor filled with the opening strain of “The Sussex Waltz”.

  I kept my eye on the door as I sipp
ed lemonade. Every time it opened, I drew in a breath and held it until I discovered it wasn’t Lucy. Then I would release my breath with a whoosh and a sigh.

  I was just about to give up when the door opened, and two people I knew so well walked through. I’d never been more relieved to see their faces in my life.

  Putting down my cup, I began my march toward them. “Excuse me. Pardon me,” I said, making my way around the outside perimeter of the dance floor. Not everyone was dancing, and those who weren’t were in my way. “Excuse me. Pardon me. Pardon me. Excuse me.”

  “Why, it’s Mr. Samuel Burke,” a voice said just as I stepped past him. The waltz was ending and music for the quadrille began.

  I stopped, not allowing myself to be rude, turned, and said, “Mr. Goulrich.” I forced a smile. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “No, no, I suppose you didn’t. You seemed to be on a mission somewhere. I believe the refreshments are that way,” he said, pointing to the direction I’d just came from.

  “Yes, sir. I know.”

  “Oh, leave the boy alone, John. You were headed for the refreshments, were you not?”

  Mr. Goulrich smiled at the woman on his arm. “Indeed. It’s stifling in here. I could use something to drink.”

  I bowed to Mr. Goulrich’s wife. “It’s good to see you again, Mrs. Goulrich.”

  Since Papa was the pastor, we often had people over, and Mr. Goulrich and his wife had supped with us many times over the years.

  “It’s good to see you as well. You look all grown up. When did that happen?”

  I pressed my hands down my coat. “I think it’s the clothes, ma’am.”

  A smile played at her lips. “Ah, perhaps that’s it. Well, you look dashing, dear.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Come on, Roselyn,” Mr. Goulrich, said. “I’m thirsty. Sam, it was nice chatting, son.”

  As soon as they set off for the refreshment room, I was off again, slipping in and out of guests to get to the front of the ballroom where I had seen Noah and Lucy enter. By the time I reached them, my parents were there talking to their—father? Mr. Hallison had come? He never came to social events.

  I slid in next to Papa, my heart taking flight in my chest, because standing beside Mr. Hallison was Lucy, and she looked so, so pretty in a simple floor-length white dress made of sheer muslin. Her hair was swept back into a bun, loose curls framed her face. She wore no adornments, except for one, a decorative pin in her hair.

  “There you are,” Papa said, putting his arm around my shoulder. “I was just telling Mr. Hallison how glad we are he came this evening.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, truly happy he’d come, and surprised. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Where is Mrs. Hallison?” Mama asked.

  “She is at home,” he said, looking skeptically around the room. “She wasn’t comfortable coming out. But I didn’t want . . .” He glanced at Lucy. “That is to say . . . I wanted to make sure Lucy had an enjoyable time this evening.”

  “Of course,” Papa said. “Would you like us to show you where to find the refresh—”

  “I would like to dance,” I blurted. All eyes fell on me and I instantly felt my cheeks bloom with color. But the time for another waltz was approaching, and I wanted to secure a dance with Lucy. It was the surest way I could hold her close. Otherwise, I was resigned to simply being near her, and I didn’t think that would be enough. Not after not seeing her for so long.

  “Why, Sam, I thought you would never ask,” Noah teased.

  Ignoring him, I said, “What I meant was . . . I would like to ask Lucy to dance, Mr. Hallison. May I?”

  “Dance?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be very careful with her. I promise.”

  “She’s never danced before. I’m afraid she doesn’t know how. I’ve never considered teaching her since she’s—”

  “I don’t mind,” I said, not needing him to finish his sentence. He thought since she was deaf, that since she couldn’t hear the music the same way we could, that she couldn’t feel it—that she wouldn’t be able to move to it. I knew she could. I knew it in my bones. All those Tuesdays and Thursdays, watching her as I played the pianoforte, had taught me Lucy felt music deeply. “I’ll teach her how.”

  He studied me another moment before Mama interjected. “Samuel is a fine dancer, I assure you. Lucy will be in excellent care.”

  “Yes, yes, of course,” Mr. Hallison said reluctantly. “You may ask her.”

  Great. I had an audience. Turning to Lucy, I bowed like a gentleman should and signed “dance” and pointed to her, then myself with a raised brow.

  She smiled, almost laughing, and nodded yes.

  I felt instant relief, and without looking at either of our parents, I offered her my arm and gestured toward the dance floor. She took it and as we walked past Noah, I whispered in his ear, “Come with us.”

  “Why am I coming with you?” he asked as I brought us to a stop just before stepping back into the fray.

  I took Lucy’s hand from my arm and held her hand in mine instead. I was going to lead her through the crowd to get as close to the musicians as we could, wanting her to feel the vibrations as much as possible. This, however, would put us on the far side of the ballroom, and I wanted Noah’s help to get us there.

  I pointed to the place I wanted us to wait for the next waltz. “I want us to be over there, close to the musicians. I’ll lead the way. She stays behind me, and you stay behind her. All right?”

  Noah eyed the scene before him. “I didn’t realize how crowded it would be. Yes, all right. Lead the way.”

  We passed many people I knew, people from church, people who would want to speak if we made eye contact. I kept my head down and weaved and wended my way through jovial chatter. All the while I held Lucy’s hand like it was the most precious thing in the world when suddenly, I heard a word hissed behind me, and I drew up short. Lucy slammed into my back. She hadn’t heard a thing, of course, but Noah had heard it, though his face was a blank canvas, no emotion rippled through him at all.

  Heathens.

  “Don’t,” Noah said, before I’d even said a word. “Put that smile back on your face and keep moving.”

  “Who said it?” I asked him. “Do you know?”

  “Don’t do this,” Noah said. “She was so happy to see you. Don’t ruin her evening over this. Don’t. Put that smile back on your face, brother, and keep moving.”

  I looked down at Lucy, who was staring up at me with pleated brows and a frown. Moments earlier she’d had laughing eyes and a sweet smile. I wanted her sweet smile back, so I did as Noah said, putting my smile back on and squeezing her hand, acting as though nothing at all was amiss.

  Another dance was winding down, and by the time we made it to the little corner I’d picked out for us, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hold Lucy and keep her there with me forever or go back out into the fray and find whoever dared talk about her like that. Noah, I knew, could take care of himself. But how dare someone, anyone, talk about my Lucy.

  I really wanted to punch something.

  “Easy,” Noah said in my ear. “It’s not worth it. Don’t let them get to you. You promised my sister a dance. And she’s watching you. Whatever you have to do, don’t let her know you’re upset. She leaves in two days. This is your night. Hers and yours. Forget about them.” I nodded, my heart twisting inside my chest. “You good?” he asked.

  “I’m good.”

  “All right. I’m off to find something to drink.” He bowed before Lucy. She giggled and curtsied, and then he was off.

  Lucy observed everything around her, taking it all in. I realized she’d never been to a dance before or any social event, and the only reason she’d come was for me. And I had yet to tell her how beautiful she looked. I moved toward her and signed, “Beautiful.”

  She blushed and pointed to me and signed, “Handsome.”

  She’d never said I was handsome before, and I felt I was walking
on clouds. I grinned. How could I not? Then the music started up again and the first strains of a waltz began. Her head tilted to the side. She was feeling the vibration of it through the floor. I knew she was because I was. I offered her my arm and gestured toward the dance floor and together we made our way there. People stared and people whispered. I heard them.

  How is she going to dance? What is he thinking? I don’t even know why she’s here. He could dance with anyone else’s daughter, why her?

  I ignored them all, and as we took our place closest to the orchestra, where Lucy would be closest to the music, my mother’s words came back to me, like they often did . . . “Let them stare.” And I did, not giving one whit what anyone thought.

  The first thing Lucy did, though, was watch the other ladies and gents around us. She was nervous and she didn’t know what to do. I did my best to guide her. Mama had taught me the etiquette of ballroom dancing, and the first thing I did was bow, and Lucy responded in kind with a curtsy. I then positioned us the way we were to dance the waltz, only because of our age, respectfully distanced. I didn’t attempt the actual steps, not at first. I just let our bodies sway a bit . . . let her feel the thrum of the music, in whatever capacity she felt it, and I let that lead us. The longer the music played on, Lucy continued to watch the other dancers—the rise and fall of the waltz, and I knew by the twinkle in her eyes that she was ready when she looked up at me. I smiled then and led her through the first steps, small ones, keeping to our little corner.

  Tears began to glisten in Lucy’s eyes, because she was dancing for the first time. And while the other couples danced around us, cutting looks in our direction, Lucy and I . . . we didn’t care. When the music came to an end, we did as etiquette dictated. I bowed, she curtsied, and then I led her off the floor, all the while thinking I couldn’t wait until our next dance.

  But then Fredrick and his friends appeared. I pushed Lucy behind me and tried to step around him.