The Work and the Glory (129 page)

“Of course. Let me get my coat.”

Nathan was back in a moment. He gave Lydia a quick kiss. “Don’t wait up for me. I don’t know how long we’ll be.”

“I’ll be up. Take what time you need.”

The two of them left, and Lydia watched them for a moment from the door. As she started to shut it, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Joshua standing there in his nightshirt. She shut the door and walked to her son. “I’m sorry, Joshua, we didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was awake.”

“Papa is going with Brother Kimball to give Parley Pratt a blessing.”

Joshua looked up. “What’s the matter with Brother Pratt, Mama?”

“He’s having a difficult time right now with his family.”

“How come Sister Pratt always looks so sick?”

She gave him an appraising look. It was startling what children noticed sometimes. “She has consumption.”

“Is that bad?”

Lydia sighed, thinking of times she had seen Thankful so weak that she could barely lift a hand from her bed. “Yes, Joshua, it’s a disease in the lungs. It can be very bad.”

“Is that why she can’t have any children?”

Lydia nodded in surprise. Joshua’s maturity continually amazed her. “Probably. They both so want a baby, but they just haven’t been able to have one so far.”

His eyes were solemn as he considered that. “Should we pray for them, Mama?”

Lydia’s mouth dropped slightly, then she smiled warmly. “That’s a wonderful idea, Joshua. Let’s offer a prayer for the Pratts, and let’s also pray that Brother Kimball and Papa will have the Spirit with them when they bless Brother Pratt.”  She bent down slightly, taking his face in both hands. “It makes me very happy that you would think of that, Joshua. Very happy.”

* * *

Nathan was a little shocked at the appearance of Thankful Pratt. She had always been a frail person, thin, wan in complexion, ravaged by the consumption that would not leave her body. But now she looked especially weak. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed with dark circles. Her lips were pale and looked parched. Her hands trembled as she pulled at the front of her robe.

They had raised Parley and his wife from their bed, even though it was not yet eight o’clock in the evening. Parley had been stunned to open the door and find his brethren standing there. Nathan had to smile. There wasn’t much that left Parley P. Pratt speechless. Thankful was equally glad to see them, but after asking a few questions about Lydia and Emma and Nathan’s mother, she fell quiet, exhausted by the effort that speaking required.

Now, as he and his wife sat on the simple bench that served as their couch, Parley looked at Heber. “So what has brought about this pleasant surprise?” he asked.

Heber paused only for a moment. “Just an impression,” he said simply. Then he leaned back. “So how are things, my friend?”

For a moment, Parley just looked at the two of them, his face troubled. Finally he shook his head. “Not good, Brother Heber, not good.”

Heber just nodded, waiting.

“I have been deeply troubled of late. It is spring now, and many of the elders are preparing to leave on missions. I feel the urgings to do the same. After all, I do hold the holy calling of the apostleship. But things here are not well. Thankful has still not recovered from the strain of moving from Missouri. This past winter I went deeply into debt to purchase a lot and build this home so we would have a place to stay. As you know, my mother is here as well and must be cared for. So I know not what to do. Shall I go on a mission, leaving Thankful to the care of others? Shall I simply forget my debts, or shall I stay here in Kirtland and by my industry endeavor to earn sufficient money to care for my family and meet my other obligations?”

He passed a hand over his eyes. “This very night I became so troubled by the question that I retired to bed early. I was lying there pondering my future course at the very moment your knock came at the door.” He gave them a grateful smile. “So you can see why I am so pleased at your coming.”

“We are so grateful you would come,” Thankful said quietly. “It is very good of you.”

Heber stood. He looked to Nathan, who stood to join him. “We are here to give you a blessing, Brother Parley. That is what the Spirit whispers, and I am a firm believer in following what the Spirit tells us to do.”

He took one of the simple chairs from the table and set it in the middle of the room. Parley rose slowly, smiling briefly at the two of them before sitting in it. Nathan and Heber moved around behind Parley, Heber standing directly behind him. He paused for a moment, his eyes hooded, then laid his hands on Parley’s head. Nathan did the same.

“Brother Parley Parker Pratt,” Heber began in a quiet voice, “in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, and by the authority of the holy Melchizedek Priesthood which we hold, we lay our hands upon your head to give you a blessing.”

He fell silent for several moments, and Nathan felt a little stir of excitement within him. He had once heard Joseph Smith say of Heber C. Kimball that here was a man in whom resided the gift of prophecy. Nathan had not witnessed that personally, but had heard others relate examples of it. Now it was a thrill to be standing beside him.

“Brother Parley”—Heber’s voice was suddenly strong and sure—“I come at this time to give you a blessing as one of the Lord’s chosen Apostles. And this blessing is not only for thee, but for thy good wife as well. The Spirit whispers that your wife shall be healed of her affliction from this very hour. She shall also conceive and bear you a son.”

Nathan felt Parley stiffen beneath their hands. He also heard a soft gasp of amazement from Thankful. Parley and his wife had been married for ten years now and were childless. And Thankful’s consumption had been declared to be incurable. This was electrifying.

Heber was continuing. “Thou shalt call his name Parley, after your own name. He shall be a chosen instrument in the hands of the Lord, to inherit the priesthood and walk in the steps of his father. He shall do a great work in ministering the word and teaching the children of men.”

Heber paused again for a moment, and Nathan could hear Thankful crying quietly beside them. Then with great firmness Heber went on. “Arise, therefore, and go forth in the ministry, nothing doubting. Take no thoughts for your debts, nor the necessaries of life, for the Lord will supply you with abundant means for all things. Thou shalt go to Upper Canada, even to the city of Toronto, the capital, and there thou shalt find a people prepared for the fulness of the gospel. They shall receive thee, and thou shalt organize the Church among them, and it shall spread thence into the regions round about. Many shall be brought to the knowledge of the truth and shall be filled with joy because of your labors. And from the things growing out of this mission, shall the fulness of the gospel spread into England, and cause a great work to be done in that land.”

Nathan was reeling. The promises were coming faster than he could comprehend them.

“You shall not only have means to deliver you from your present embarrassments,” Heber went on, “but you shall yet have riches, silver and gold, till you will loath the counting thereof.”

There was one last pause, then Heber’s voice dropped, and he finished more slowly. “This blessing we pronounce upon you by the power of the holy priesthood and through the promptings of the Lord’s Holy Spirit. And we do it in the name of our beloved Savior, Jesus Christ, amen.”

Instantly Parley was on his feet, tears streaming down his face. Thankful was up too, her cheeks stained as well. Husband and wife embraced, hugging each other tightly, not speaking. Then finally Parley pulled away and turned to Heber. He stuck out his hand. “Thank you, Brother Heber,” he whispered huskily. “Thank you so much.”

He looked at Nathan, then threw his arms around him. “Thank you, Brother Nathan. Thank you for coming.”

* * *

Heber and Nathan walked slowly, both of them still fired by the thrill of what had happened. Heber had his hands behind his back, his head down. He was lost deeply in his thoughts.

“That was a marvelous blessing,” Nathan finally said.

He could tell that Heber nodded, but the Apostle said nothing.

“I’m glad I was there to hear it.”

For several moments Heber still said nothing. Then he stopped, turning to peer at Nathan. Nathan saw in the man’s face the intensity that was so characteristic of Heber C. Kimball. He waited, sensing that Heber had something to say. But he was not prepared for what came next.

“You know why you are here, don’t you?”

Nathan started a little. “Because you asked me.”

Heber chuckled. “There are a lot of elders in Kirtland, Nathan. Why should I specifically feel impressed to seek you out?”

“I don’t know. Why did you?”

For a long moment he just looked at Nathan. Then he laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Because you are to accompany Brother Parley on his mission to Canada.”

Nathan went stiff as a rod. “What?”

“That’s right. I will discuss it with Joseph tomorrow, make sure he confirms it, but I feel it strongly. Parley will be pleased to know he will have a traveling companion.” He clasped his hands behind his back and started walking again. 

For a moment Nathan stared after him, his mind racing. Canada? What would Lydia say? What about the farms? But even as the thoughts tumbled wildly in his mind, he felt something else. He recognized it instantly. He had felt this deep inner peace before.
Yes,
he thought.
Canada. Of course.
He quickly fell into step beside the Apostle.

Heber gave him a sidewards glance. “And that is not all, Nathan.”

“It’s not?”

“No. I don’t know how, but your going on this mission will prove to be a great blessing to your own family. You shall live to see it, and you shall rise up and thank the Lord you were privileged to be part of it.”

He laughed softly at the look on Nathan’s face. They had come back out to the main street that ran in front of the temple. Heber lived to the north, Nathan to the south. “And now, my friend, I must say good night. I am very weary and should like to reach home as quickly as possible.” He stuck out his hand. “Thank you, Nathan. It was wonderful to have you with me.”

And with that, he turned and walked off, not waiting for a response, leaving Nathan to stand there in the dark, filled with wonder and not a few questions to which he would have very much liked to have answers.

Chapter Five

The office of Richard Wesley, Savannah’s most preeminent cotton factor, was conservatively furnished, but everything about it spoke money and class. The chairs and sofa were of fine leather, the pictures on the wall obviously more than the common prints lesser folk bought. The moldings around the doors and ceiling were thick and polished to a soft gleam. Even the secretary’s desk was as fine as anything Joshua had seen west of St. Louis.

“Do you have an appointment, sir?” The secretary, a tall thin man with a nose like a rooster’s beak, peered at them over half-cut horn-rimmed glasses.

Joshua shook his head. “I just arrived yesterday by ship. I am from Missouri. I am looking to buy cotton. Mr. Wesley has been highly recommended to me.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Joshua saw that Will never broke his expression, though he could sense that the boy was nearly bursting with pride and excitement. He was dressed to the nines with waistcoat, well-tailored breeches, and low-cut boots that showed some wear but which Joshua had noticed had been highly polished as though by a bootblack. His shirt was of cotton, neatly pressed and with a small black tie at the throat. He looked every inch the young businessman, and Joshua was strangely proud to have him with him.

The secretary frowned, his mouth pinching down into a tiny circle. “It is most unusual to come without an advance appointment.”

Joshua smiled patiently. “When a man has come almost two thousand miles, it is most unusual if he has an advance appointment.”

The secretary’s eyes widened, not sure whether to take offense or not at such brashness. “I’ll have to confer with Mr. Wesley. Who shall I tell him is calling?” His eyes darted to Will, then flitted back to Joshua.

“Mr. Joshua Steed, from Independence, Missouri. And my young associate here is Master William Donovan Mendenhall, originally from Maryland but most recently from Savannah, Georgia.”

* * *

Richard Wesley took the pipe out of his mouth and knocked out the ashes against the metal railing. When he spoke it was with the same deep Southern accent Joshua had found prevailed here along the coast of Georgia. “I shall call for you, suh, at the hotel at nine a.m. on Monday, two days after tomorrow.”

They stood on the narrow metal catwalk that ran from his suite of offices across Factors’ Walk to the bluff that bordered Bay Street. Joshua nodded. “I shall look forward to meeting Mr. and Mrs. Montague. I’m also looking forward to seeing my first cotton plantation.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it most impressive,” Wesley said. “And if you find the cotton acceptable, as I have promised, then we shall draw up the papers, and you, suh, shall be loaded and on yo way back to St. Louis”—he pronounced it Lou-ee—“by the end of next week.”