Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 10 (7 page)

11/2 cups grits

2 teaspoons (or more) garlic powder

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1 stick butter

3 eggs, beaten

1 pound grated cheddar cheese

Bring the water to a boil, add the salt, and slowly stir in the grits. Cook according to the directions on the box. Add the rest of the ingredients, stir real well until the butter melts, then pour into a buttered baking dish. Bake 1 hour and 15 minutes, or until the top is puffy and golden.

“Maybe you should call that Oklahoma lawyer,” Ruby Bee said as she tied a scarf on her head and studied the effect in the bathroom mirror. “For all you know, he could be sending some of those killer sheep. You can’t just let them run around your living room.”

Her only response was a snort from the living room. Estelle had come by to take her to the Sunday morning service at the Assembly Hall, but she’d shown up ten minutes early and was being all persnickety because Ruby Bee hadn’t been standing in the parking lot and ready to leap into the station wagon as it rolled by.

Estelle finally relented. “I thought about it, but I don’t want to run up my long distance bill. I don’t have more than two or three appointments this coming week, one of ‘em for nothing but a trim. All I can say is, there are going to be some mighty scruffy folks eating turkey and cranberries this year.”

“I suppose it can’t hurt to wait,” Ruby Bee said as she came into the living room and put on her coat. “There’s a lot of that going around. Kayleen’s waiting on the plumber, Dahlia and Kevin are waiting on the stork, customers at the SuperSaver are waiting on themselves since all the employees are deer hunting, Antwon Buchanon’s waiting on his roof for a chariot to swing low and carry him home, and Arly’s waiting for the first casualty on Cotter’s Ridge. I’m waiting to find out what the IRS is going to do when they don’t get my fourth quarterly payment.”

“Is that what’s been bothering you?” asked Estelle, pulling on her gloves.

Ruby Bee opened the door, then recoiled as the wind snatched at her scarf. “I reckon so. If business doesn’t pick up, I’m not going to have two dimes to rub together on New Year’s Day. It’s not like Arly can loan me enough to tide me over, either. When I told her that she needed a warmer coat, she just laughed and said something about saving up for mink. One of these days …”

“She’ll leave?”

Ruby Bee waited to answer until they were settled in Estelle’s station wagon and the heater was on. “I’m surprised she’s stayed so long. There aren’t but a scattering of people her age, and they’re married and busy with babies. I can’t remember when she last mentioned that nice state trooper, or even hinted that she was seeing somebody on the sly. The light’s on in her apartment most every night. It ain’t natural.”

They drove to the Assembly Hall, but after some discussion about not getting caught in traffic after the service, decided to park across the road in front of the soon-to-be Pawn Palace.

Estelle gestured at the dark interior. “You spoken to her lately?”

“No, I haven’t laid eyes on her since she was in the bar and grill the other day when you were talking about Uncle Tooly’s will. I guess she’s been out at the Wockermann place, trying to do the carpentry work herself. It burns me up how every male in the county that’s over the age of ten sees nothing wrong with forgetting about work in order to go deer hunting. It’s a good thing doctors don’t feel the same way.”

“Or lawyers,” added Estelle, wondering if Uncle Tooly might have set aside some stocks and bonds in her name because of the homemade cookies she sent every year at Christmas. Blue chips in exchange for chocolate chips, in a manner of speaking.

Ruby Bee pointed at the front of the Assembly Hall. “Well, look who got himself dragged to church this morning. I’d have thought Jim Bob would be up on the ridge in the trailer that he, Roy, and Larry Joe use as a deer camp. You can tell from the way he’s walking that he hasn’t worn those dress shoes in a good while, and his collar looks tight enough to choke the cud out of a cow. Do you think Mrs. Jim Bob finally put the fear of God in him?”

“Right now she looks like she could put the fear of God in most anybody, including ol’ Satan himself,” Estelle replied. “Did you ever get a chance to ask her about Brother Verber’s mysterious past?”

“There is nothing mysterious about his past, Estelle. We just don’t know anything about it. No, I haven’t tried to worm the details out of her as of yet. I saw her in the SuperSaver, but she was being so crabby with the checkout girl that I figured it wasn’t a good time.”

They joined the stream of souls heading into the foyer and found seats toward the back so they could be the first out the door after the closing “Amen.” After nodding to Earl and Eileen and a few other folks, Ruby Bee whispered, “There’s Kayleen in the second pew. Brother Verber must have nagged her into coming.”

“Or sweet-talked her into it,” Estelle whispered back, then resumed speculating about her inheritance. Maybe a deed to a piece of acreage she could sell for a tidy sum, or even a set of china or expensive silverware. Uncle Tooly had once owned a fancy antique car; his one-eyed wife might have given him another one as a wedding present. Or a mantel clock, she reminded herself.

Eula Lemoy pounded out the opening hymn, which was kind of hard to recognize and downright impossible to sing along with. Folks coughed and sneezed through the announcements, the passing of the collection plate, and a solo sung by an atonal teenaged girl. Brother Verber presided from his folding chair set to one side, alternately smiling at the congregation and wincing at the sour notes. At one point, Ruby Bee thought he winked, but decided it was more likely a gnat got in his eye.

Eventually, the girl ran out of steam, curtsied, and scurried to her seat. Brother Verber stood up, stuck out what chin he had, and walked to the lectern as if he were leading a processional to the guillotine.

“Brothers and sisters,” he said, dragging out the words as he made eye contact with as many folks as he could, “I have in my possession some information that is so startling that you may think it came from a tabloid. Some of you will laugh at what I’m gonna share with you this morning. Some of you will sneer. Some of you, like Earl Buchanon and Lewis Fernclift, will snooze through the sermon same as you do every Sunday morning. But those of you who listen with an open mind are gonna be shocked. That’s right, brothers and sisters-shocked!”

Uneasiness rippled through the congregation as they prepared themselves for this electrifying revelation. Earl sat up straight so everybody could see he was wide-awake. Lottie Estes settled her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose, then took a pad and pencil from her purse in case she needed to take notes. Dahlia sighed, wondering if Brother Verber was gonna carry on so long she’d wet her pants. Ruby Bee and Estelle wiggled their eyebrows at each other.

Brother Verber cleared his throat and scanned his notes one last time. “We’re gonna begin with a passage from Genesis, chapter twelve, verses one through three: ‘Now the Lord had said unto Abraham, Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father’s house, unto a land that I will shew thee. And I will make of thee a great nation, and I will bless thee, and make thy name great, and thou shalt be a blessing: And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth thee: and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed.’ “

He gave them a moment to stew on that, then smiled and shook his head. “That ain’t all. Now let’s take a gander at chapter twenty-two, verses seventeen and eighteen, where the Lord’s still talking to Abraham: ‘That in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven and as the sand which is upon the sea shore, and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies. And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice.’ “

“Sounds like Abraham won’t need to buy any seeds at the coop this spring,” Earl said, then grunted as his wife’s elbow caught him in the ribcage.

Brother Verber shot Earl a dirty look. “These have to do with producing children, not soybeans, and the multiplying ain’t the two-times-two sort of multiplying. What you just now heard is called the Abrahamic Covenant, and it was made some thirty-eight hundred years ago. Yes, the Lord gave Abraham a thirty-eight-hundred-year warranty on his seed because he obeyed the Lord’s voice and commandments. You can bet Abraham was pleased as punch, and his children and grandchildren and their children and so forth were, too.”

Suddenly, his expression darkened and his hands gripped the sides of the podium. He waited until everybody stopped squirming and sneaking glances at their watches, then dropped his voice to a throaty whisper. “But then the tables turned. Shalmaneser, the king of Assyria, marched his army into Israel, and took prisoners back to places like”-he consulted his notes-“Halah and Medes. Thirteen years later, the Assyrian army came back for more, and that ain’t the end of it. In the year five hundred and ninety-six B.C., Nebuchadnezzar, the king of Babylon, attacked Jerusalem and pretty much captured the last of the Israelites. Now where do you think all these seeds of Abraham ended up?”

Nobody offered a guess. Earl’s chin was on his chest and he was snoring softly. Dahlia was trying to determine if she could get out of the pew without stepping on too many toes. Beside her, Kevin was tugging at his collar and wondering if Kevin junior would have Dahlia’s eyes. Lottie Estes was agonizing over the correct spelling of Nebuchadnezzar. Mrs. Jim Bob was perplexed, aware that Brother Verber’s religious training through the mail-order seminary in Las Vegas had been slanted toward the consequences of sinful behavior rather than obscure biblical history. Beside her, Jim Bob was cursing himself for coming home from the poker game at two in the morning with whiskey on his breath-and discovering his wife sitting in the kitchen.

Brother Verber went in for the kill. “All these seeds ended up in the Caucacus mountains or there-abouts-which is why they became known as Caucasians. Now, they didn’t stay there forever, these twelve tribes of Israel. After maybe a hundred years, they packed their bags and migrated toward the west. When they got someplace they liked, they settled down and took names like Celts, Teutones, Gaels, Scots, and Scandinavians. After a time, some of them like the Vikings and Pilgrims sailed across the Atlantic Ocean to a place called North America. Let’s have a look at Second Samuel, chapter seven, verse ten, where the Lord says plain as day: ‘Moreover I will appoint a place for my people Israel, and will plant them so they may dwell in a place of their own, and move no more; neither shall the children of wickedness afflict them any more, as beforetime.’ ” He took out a handkerchief and blotted his forehead, stealing a peek at Kayleen. She nodded encouragingly at him, her eyes all dewy with admiration.

“So what this boils down to,” he continued, “is two things. One is that we’re Caucasians and therefore the true descendants of the twelve tribes of Israel, who were assured by the Lord that they were the chosen people. The second is that we are living in the Promised Land right here and right now!” He thumped the podium for emphasis, then rocked back on his heels and waited while everybody considered what he’d said. Everybody but Earl, of course.

Mrs. Jim Bob stood up. “Are you saying that we’re jewish?” she asked.

“Not for a second,” he assured her, hoping he had his facts straight. “I’m saying that the Jews are not descended from the twelve tribes of Israel, any more than the Africans or the Ethiopians or the Eskimos-because they ain’t Caucasians. Only the folks from the western Christian nations qualify.”

As Mrs. Jim Bob sank down to sort this out, Eula Lemoy fluttered her hand. “And the United States of America is the Promised Land?”

Brother Verber nodded. “Just like the Lord promised in the Abrahamic Covenant. Let’s all bow our heads and offer a prayer of thankfulness for this blessing that has been bestowed on us.”

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Raz Buchanon spat angrily as a gun was fired somewhere higher up on Cotter’s Ridge. “These dadburned city folk got no call to come here and start shootin’ at anything that moves,” he muttered to Marjorie, who’d refused to get out of the truck. “And if Diesel values his worthless hide, he’d better stay away from here. I’d sooner blow off his head as look at him!”

Marjorie blinked as sunlight glinted off the copper tubes and empty Mason jars.

“What’s more,” Raz went on, “I ain’t gonna feel any kindlier toward those soldier fellers if they come snoopin’ around here. I’ll blast the lot of them to Kingdom Come. You jest see if I don’t.” He spat again, glared so savagely at a squirrel that it liked to fall off a branch, then replenished his chaw and returned his attention to the fine art of making moonshine. Business was always real good during the holiday season.

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Jake Milliford belched as he pushed away from the kitchen table. “Fine dinner,” he forced himself to say, not being comfortable throwing out compliments but doing it anyway. Short of stuffing Judy in a gunny sack and putting her in the back of the truck, there wasn’t any way he could force her to go to Maggody for four days. He should have been able to just lay down the law ‘cause she was his wife, but he knew better than to try it. “I’m gonna go watch the game. When you get finished with the dishes, come into the living room.”

“I’m not interested in ballgames,” she said as she carried his plate to the sink. “I told Janine I’d come over this afternoon and help her make curtains for the nursery. She found a real cute gingham print on sale-“

“You don’t have to sit there all afternoon. I got something to show you. After that, you can go wherever you please.” He left the room before she could start whining, which, as far as he was concerned, was about all she ever did. It wasn’t like all he ever did was lie around the house all day or take off two weeks to go deer hunting. No, he worked eight-hour shifts five days a week at the salvage yard just to keep them from having to live in a neighborhood where they’d be surrounded by lazy half-breeds. He didn’t go around beating up faggots like some of the fellows did. He took her to church most Sundays, even though he didn’t cotton to all the pious shit about lovin’ thy neighbor and turnin’ the other cheek. The only time he was gonna turn the other cheek was while he was pulling out a gun.