A Death On The Wolf (16 page)

Another officer of Parker’s Lodge then read from a scroll. He gave Parker’s full name, the dates he was entered an apprentice, passed to fellowcraft, and raised a Master Mason. Then the Master, referring to his note cards again, turned toward us and said the following:

“
Our Brother has been raised in that blissful Lodge which no time can close, but which will remain open during the boundless ages of eternity. In that Heavenly Sanctuary, the Mystic Light, unmingled with darkness, will reign unbroken and perpetual. There, under the protection of the All-Seeing Eye, amid the smiles of Immutable Love, in that house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens, there, my brethren, may Almighty God in His infinite mercy, grant that we may meet again, to part no more. Almighty Father, into Thy hands we commend the soul of our beloved Brother.”

In unison, all the Masons, including my father, intoned, “So mote it be,” a curious phrase that I assumed meant, “so may it be.”

The Master then picked up a white leather apron from the metal chair behind him, held it up, and said, “The lambskin apron is an emblem of innocence and the badge of a Mason; more ancient than the golden fleece or the Roman eagle, more honorable than the star or garter, or any distinction that can be conferred by king, prince, potentate or any other person. The apron continually reminds us of that purity of life and conduct so essentially necessary to gain admission into the Celestial Lodge above where the Supreme Grand Master of the Universe forever presides.” He then placed the apron on top of Parker’s casket.

The Master reached in his pocket and pulled out a sprig from a young pine. He held it up and said, “The evergreen, which once marked the temporary resting place of one illustrious in Masonic history, is an emblem of our enduring faith in the immortality of the soul. By it we are reminded that we have an imperishable part within us, which shall survive all earthly existence, and which will never, never die. Through the loving goodness of our Supreme Grand Master, we may confidently hope that, like this evergreen, our souls will hereafter flourish in eternal spring.” He handed the sprig to my father who then placed it on Parker’s casket.

The Master then gestured to Daddy, and then all the Masons crossed their arms over their chests. In the same clear voice I’d heard many times from the pulpit in our church, my father said, “We shall ever cherish in our hearts the memory of our departed Brother and, commending his spirit to Almighty God, we trustingly leave him in the hands of that Beneficent Being who is glorious in His Holiness, wondrous in His Power, and boundless in His Goodness; and it should always be our endeavor so to live that we too may be found worthy to inherit the kingdom prepared for us from the foundation of the world. So mote it be.” All the Masons intoned “So mote it be.”

And that was the end of the ceremony. It was simple and quite moving in and of itself, but my emotions at that moment were the product of the pride I felt for my father. It’s natural for children to drift through their early childhood taking their parents for granted, then adolescence rears its ugly head and insouciance morphs into rebellion as they strive to define themselves by being as different from those who gave them life as possible. But for me, now on the eve of my sixteenth year, familial insurrection had yet to seize me—and in reality, it never would. I was my father’s son. His moral compass was inexorably mine. I knew that day I would forever define myself not by contrasts to my father, but by emulation, striving to be a “good man” like him. But the term “good man” was not adequate to describe him. Daddy was a great man who charted his own course in life, guided by his own light, irrespective of the opinions of others, be they my grandmother’s or those of his Brothers in the Lodge. He was the kind of man I wanted to be, the kind of man I was already becoming without fully realizing it.

Chapter 11

Beau

“
Who is that?” Frankie asked me. It was Saturday just after lunch and we were sitting on my front porch. A red Mustang convertible with the top down had just pulled into Aunt Charity’s drive. The radio was blaring Steppenwolf’s “Magic Carpet Ride.” The loud music ceased when the driver shut off the engine. Frankie and I watched him get out of the car and walk to Aunt Charity’s front door. He had on a blue blazer, khaki slacks, and what looked like a pale blue button down shirt.

“
I guess that’s Mary Alice’s brother,” I said.

“
Why’s he dressed up?” Frankie said.

“
I don’t know.”

Mary Alice had told me her brother was coming to visit today, so I’d determined to let her have the day with him. I thought it would be a good opportunity for me to spend some time with Frankie. I’d hardly seen him at all since our fight and my subsequent apology in his bedroom the next day. I was glad there did not seem to be any lasting artifacts on Frankie’s face from our brawl. The bandage was gone, as was all of the bruising except for some slight discoloration at the bridge of his nose, which you really had to look closely to see. I could still detect a difference in his voice, though. When Frankie spoke, he sounded a little like he had a head cold.

“
What do you want to do today?” I asked him. “Wanna go down to the river?”

“
Can’t.”

“
How come?” I asked.

“
The doctor says I can’t get in the water until my nose is completely healed. He said I might get an infection or something if I got water up my nose.”

“
How long’s it gonna take to heal?”

“
He said at least a couple of months.”

“
Geez,” I said. “Wanna toss the football around?”

“
Can’t do that either.”

“
What? Why not?”

“
He said I can’t do anything where I might get hit in the face. He said if my nose gets hit while it’s healing I’ll have to have surgery.” All the remorse I thought was gone over my breaking Frankie’s nose came back in full force. Here I was thinking he was well, when in fact he was far from it. Not only had I broken his nose, but with one well-placed punch I’d effectively ruined the rest of his summer—and his fall. He couldn’t do anything. Two months put us into football season and Frankie was on the team at school. Coach Underwood’s notorious pre-season practice sessions would be starting up in a week, so clearly Frankie would not be playing. I looked over at him and I guess he could see from my expression what I was about to say. “Don’t apologize again, Nels,” he said. “I know you feel bad about it.”

I smiled and nodded my head. “You want to sleep over tonight?” I asked. “We could camp out down at the river.”

“
When are we gonna build the cabin down there? We’ve been talking about it forever.” That was true. Frankie and I had decided last summer that a small cabin for camping out down at the river was what we needed because my pup tent was getting too small to sleep the two of us. The problem was having funds to buy the materials to build the thing. I was saving every spare dime to buy a car and Frankie never seemed to have any money, spare or otherwise.

“
Next summer, I guess,” I said. “Maybe after I get my car I can start saving to buy the stuff to build it. Hey, we could go down there and throw a couple lines off the bridge, see what we can catch,” I offered. I waited for him to tell me he couldn’t go fishing with a broken nose.

“
What’s playin’ at the movie in town?” Frankie asked.

“
You want to go see a movie?”

“
Yeah, let’s check the paper and see what’s playin’.”

We got up and went inside to check the listing at the Palladium in town.

“
True Grit
,” I said, pointing to the ad in the paper. “It’s a John Wayne movie.”

“
What’s it about?” Frankie said.

“
I don’t know, but who cares? It’s John Wayne. Let’s go see it.”

“
What time are the shows?”

I looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. “We’ve got plenty of time. The next show starts at two.”

“
You’ll have to take me by the house to get some money,” Frankie said. “I didn’t bring my wallet. And if I’m spending the night I’ve got to get my stuff.”

“
So you do want to sleep over tonight?”

“
Yeah, but here, not down at the river.”

“
Don’t worry about your ticket for the movie,” I said. “I’ll get it.”

“
What about popcorn and a drink?”

“
I’ll pay for that, too.”

“
Wow…is this like our first real date?” Frankie said with a grin.

He was standing right next to me at the kitchen table so I shoved him. “Fag,” I said in feigned contempt.

We both laughed.

True Grit
had been playing at the Palladium since the middle of June, and judging from the number of people at the Saturday matinee, I figured this would be its last weekend. The theater was nearly empty.

“
That’s Glen Campbell singing,” Frankie whispered as the lights dimmed and the credits started rolling on the screen. We were both munching on popcorn and were sharing a large Coke with two straws.

“
He’s in the movie, too,” I said.

We settled down and didn’t talk anymore until Frankie said, “Is that a girl?” He pointed to the screen where Mattie Ross was sitting at a desk giving her father cash money to take on his trip.

“
Yeah,” I whispered and stuffed some more popcorn in my mouth.

“
Look at her hair. She looks like a boy,” Frankie said.

“
You wish,” I mumbled with a mouthful of popcorn. Frankie started laughing and almost choked on his popcorn. “Shut up before they throw us outta here,” I hissed.

— — —

When Frankie and I got back from the movie, Mary Alice and her brother were sitting on Aunt Charity’s front porch so we decided to walk over there and meet him.

“
Nelson?” her brother queried as he stood up and looked from Frankie to me as we stepped up onto the porch.

“
I’m Nelson,” I said and extended my hand.

“
Beau Hadley,” he said, and we shook hands. His shirt was not blue as I’d first thought. It was white with dark blue pinstripes. His double-breasted navy blazer had gold buttons. His hair was combed to perfection. You could slice bread with the crease in his slacks. He was as tall as me and exceedingly handsome. Had the word been part of my vocabulary at the time, I would have called him a fop. “My sister has told me all about you,” Beau said.

“
Nice to meet you,” I said. “This is my friend, Frankie Thompson.” I gestured to Frankie.

They shook hands and Frankie had a thunderstruck look on his face. His mouth was half open like he wanted to speak but couldn’t. “Hi,” he finally said.

I went over and sat down beside Mary Alice on the swing. Beau and Frankie sat in the two chairs facing us on the other side of the porch. I could read Mary Alice’s gestures now, so when she moved her right hand in my direction ever so slightly, I met it with my left. Taking her hand, I leaned toward her and quietly said, “Hey.”

She smiled, and still looking straight ahead, said, “Hey yourself.”

I put my mouth to her ear and whispered, “If I kissed you right now what would your brother do?” Mary Alice didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Her blush said it all—and she was squeezing my hand so hard it hurt.

Beau was looking at us with a curious expression on his face. I couldn’t quite decide if he was pleased or concerned. Maybe it was both. Surprisingly, it was Frankie who broke the tension when he looked at Beau and said, “That’s a neat car you’ve got.”

“
Thanks,” Beau said, looking at Frankie.

“
Is it new?” Frankie asked. Something was up, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Frankie was somewhat into motorcycles, but he didn’t give a hoot about cars and here he was trying to pursue a conversation with someone he’d just met based on one.

“
It’s a ’67,” Beau said. “I got it when I started my second year in law school.”

“
You’re in law school!?” Frankie exclaimed in mock surprise. I had to roll my eyes and I’m glad Beau didn’t see me. I’d already told Frankie earlier that Mary Alice’s brother was in law school.

“
I’ll be starting my last year at Ole Miss this fall,” Beau said as he studied the strange boy sitting three feet from him. He was clearly bemused.

“
So what’s it like?” Frankie asked.

“
What?” Beau said, looking back at me and then Frankie.

“
Law school,” Frankie said. “Tell me about it.”

I realized what was going on and I knew I had to do something before Frankie made a fool of himself. I stood up. “Frankie, I need to show you something inside,” I said. It was a stupid thing to say, especially since we were sitting on Aunt Charity’s porch.