Katie's Dream (28 page)

I thought Samuel very brave, like Daniel must have been, knowing he was facing a den of lions. Sure, this was our church family, but there were a few members who could bite and claw with the best of them. I took a deep breath and followed my husband, knowing we were already drawing glances.

“I heard about him,” Ella Cole was whispering to Magnolia Burns as we walked past. “Can you believe it?”

I nearly tripped on the stair. Emma Grace opened her
eyes with a start, and I eased her little head back down to my shoulder. Why should I think they were talking about us? So what if they were? God knew the truth.

For a moment, Samuel turned his eyes to look at me.
God knows the truth,
I thought again.
And maybe he's the only one who needs to. Who cares what anybody else thinks or says?

I watched my husband take another step toward that church door, even as Harold and Bernice Walker were starting in our direction and looking at us so strangely.

At least Samuel was here, presenting himself to God— bruises, accusations, and all. That was what mattered.

I smiled, feeling ready to conquer the world at my husband's side. I didn't think I could be shaken. I didn't think one soul here could upset me, not even Hazel Sharpe, no matter what they'd heard or what they said.

“Mr. Wortham!” Harold Walker was calling. He didn't say Samuel, the way he usually did. I wondered if he and Bernice had been waiting for us. They lived next to the church and were usually among the first inside.

“Mr. Wortham!” he called again, even though Samuel had already stopped on the stair and turned around.

“The Bible teaches us to be frank with one another,” Harold started out, all in a rush. “You know, if we have somethin' again' a brother to go to him an' all . . .”

Samuel nodded, not saying a word. I had a feeling he knew exactly what was coming. And I wasn't nearly as prepared as he was.

“Some fella come up here yesterday lookin' for the pastor. I tol' him where to find him, but when he found out I was church folks with you, he tol' me some of his business, so I could pray on it, you know. An' it's just about kept us up all night, being concerned about you and all.”

Bernice was standing beside him, nodding her head and looking at me like I was some poor lost child.

“Now, we understand that your personal business is
your own,” he went on, “but when it comes to the family of God—”

Samuel cut him off impatiently. “Just tell me what he said.”

Harold stopped, looked at both of us and then down at Katie. “Well . . . he said quite a lot. That you were befriending us all for gain, that was one thing.”

“I haven't asked for anything,” Samuel said simply. “I haven't taken anything either.”

“You've taken quite a lot, seems to me,” Harold argued. “Ever since Christmas, folks has been givin' you all kinds a' things. Scarves for the kids, peach preserves . . .”

Samuel bowed his head.

“We've appreciated every bit,” I said quickly. “It would've been a hard winter for us and especially the Hammonds without the church's kindness.”

Harold's eyes narrowed. “Kindness is one thing, but when it comes to takin' advantage—”

“I haven't asked for anything,” Samuel repeated, starting up the stairs again. “And my brother just likes to make trouble.”

“He said
you
was the trouble,” Harold pressed, following Samuel up a step. “Having us all hoodwinked 'bout what you done to Emma.”

Samuel turned around, and I saw the fire in his eyes. He could have said plenty. He could have done a thousand things. But he only sighed and turned away again. “Believe what you want to believe.”

“He also said you had you an illegitimate child!” Bernice Walker burst out in a shriekish voice. “And here you are bringing her into God's house!”

“Where else would I bring her?” Samuel said wearily and walked on inside.

Bernice stood there in shock. “He didn't deny it! Oh, dear Lord, Julia! He didn't deny it!”

She reached her large arms toward me, and I wasn't
sure whether to receive her awkward hug or step away. He didn't deny it? So what? He was just tired of hearing it! Tired of the accusations. Why should he have to defend himself in the house of God?

“You stink!” Robert suddenly exclaimed, and I whirled in surprise.

“Robert!”

“It ain't right, them marching up and saying stuff like that about my dad! You stink, that's all!” he told the Walkers again. “Just 'cause some stupid criminal comes and says a bunch of stuff doesn't mean you have to believe it!”

Harold and Bernice stared at him, shaking their heads, clucking their tongues.

“Robert, that's no way to talk, no matter how you feel.”

“Why don't you tell them that? My dad's the best person in this place! He don't believe lies about everybody else! He don't march up saying ugly stuff—”

“Children should be taught to hold their tongues,” Bernice said sanctimoniously. And oh, how I wished she would just go away! Robert was right. Why should I have to correct
him?

“Robert, dear, you might as well go on to your Sunday school room,” I said quietly. “Sit with your friends. We'll talk about this later.”

“It ain't right, Mom. He didn't do nothing! An' Katie might be illegitimate, who knows? But she ain't Dad's. That don't make no sense at all.”

I hadn't been aware that he understood what that word meant. But he did, obviously. “I know. But go on. Please.”

He walked away; Harold and Bernice were still shaking their heads at me. Like I was doing wrong for not reproving my son for standing up for his father.

Let them shake their heads. I was glad for Robert. Maybe I'd thank him later. But Samuel was right too. Let them
believe what they want to believe. I marched up the steps and into the church, hugging Emma Grace tight.

“Julia?” Bernice called.

I ignored her.

“Julia?”

I could hear other scattered voices behind me, people gathering from the churchyard, but I didn't stop.

Bernice sighed, her disapproving voice floating over all the other chatter.

“Well, I'll be . . . that Juli Wortham . . . don't she know the kind of man she's married to?”

EIGHTEEN

Samuel

As soon as I was in the church, Hazel Sharpe made a beeline in my direction. “What happened to you? Your eye's true purple. You've been fightin'! A grown man!”

Beside me, Katie squeezed my hand, surely remembering this sharp-tongued woman from our previous encounter.

“I heard tell from the Posts about one a' those Hammond boys gettin' hurt at your place. And now look at you! What kind of foolishness have you had goin' on out there, anyway?”

“Barrett told you about Franky?” It surprised me, it truly did, that he would come and talk to Miss Hazel.

“Well, a' course he knew folks from church oughta know. I seen his truck over at the pastor's last night, and I went right over there to see if there was anything I could do.”

It must have been quite an evening for Pastor Jones. With Barrett bringing such news, Hazel dropping in, and apparently Edward showing up at some point to tear me down.

“Lot more to you than meets the eye, Samuel Wortham,” Miss Hazel was saying. “You been hidin' things.”

I was looking toward the front, where Pastor Jones was kneeling in front of the cross as he did before nearly every service.

“I know you was in to see Ben Law the other day,” Hazel continued. “I seen you comin' from there. I went an' talked to him, I'll have you know! Law-abiding citizens got an obligation to the community. If there's trouble, we got every right to know! He told me about you, so you don't have to stand here so bold-faced. I know the shameful sort a' things you been up to—”

“Excuse me, Miss Hazel.” I tried to edge around her, toward the pastor. But she didn't let me by.

“Sin is sin, Samuel Wortham, whether it's yesterday or six years old!”

Pastor lifted his head and looked over at us with a frown. He'd told me once what a trial it was, having Hazel in his congregation. Of course, it wasn't only her today. He stood to his feet quickly and came in our direction, reaching his hand to me.

“Good morning,” he said, looking from me to Katie and back again.

“Disgraceful, ain't it?” Miss Hazel asked him.

“Are you all right?” Pastor asked me.

“Yes, sir.”

“He's been fightin'!” Hazel proclaimed. “An' he calls himself a Christian! You'll have to set him straight, Pastor! That little boy hurt on account a' him, and now him bringing this girl right in front of us like he ain't got the sense to be ashamed! We can't be havin' it! Not in God's own church!”

There was a heaviness in the pastor's face unlike anything I'd seen in him before. “I
would
like to talk to you, Samuel,” he said. “And your wife. After the service.”

“Yes,” I told him, suddenly feeling a heaviness of my own. “That would be fine.”

“This is a pretty young lady you have with you today,” he continued, taking Katie's hand.

For the first time I noticed the tears in Katie's eyes. Scary Miss Hazel. I should have known better. Even though Katie had wanted to be with me, I should have sent her straight on with Sarah so we wouldn't run the risk of such an encounter. But it was too late now.

“What's your name, child?” Pastor was asking.

She looked up at me, her little lip quivering.

“It's okay,” I told her. “The pastor is my friend.”

She sniffed. She glanced at Miss Hazel and quickly turned her eyes away. “Katie,” she said, barely a whisper.

“A lovely name,” Pastor told her. “And we're very glad to have you today. I hope you enjoy the service.”

“Pastor Jones!” Hazel exclaimed. The hat on her head was quivering, though she looked to be standing still.

“Do you see that picture over there?” the pastor asked Katie, pointing to a framed portrait of Christ. She nodded. “That's Jesus,” he told her. “A long time ago he told his disciples to allow the children to come to him so that he could bless them. And that's exactly the way he feels about you now.”

Hazel scowled, and I wondered if she didn't understand the pastor's words as the gentle rebuke they were surely meant to be. Regardless of any guilt of mine or her parents, Katie should be welcomed by all the church folks, smiled upon, loved, and blessed. I was grateful to the pastor for having that understanding.

“We can't condone sin in the church,” Hazel declared bluntly. “We'd have the whole town runnin' wild. You can plain tell he ain't one bit sorry.”

For the first time, Pastor turned his attention to the stooped old lady.

“I already said I would meet with him after the service—”

“I sure would like to hear what he has to say for himself—”

“Privately, sister. This is no more concern of yours. Let us be thankful that in a difficult time, Samuel has come to the house of God for comfort.”

“He oughta have come for repentance,” Hazel huffed.

“And we are not to judge unless we're prepared to be judged,” he added gently.

Suddenly Julia was placing her hand on my arm. I hadn't even seen her walk up to us. Pastor saw her gesture and gave her a nod.

“The thought of bein' judged don't scare me at all,” Hazel insisted.

“Perhaps it should,” Julia said quietly.

You'd have thought the old woman had been hit by a club. She staggered back a step and was suddenly breathing hard. “Pastor Jones, did you hear that?”

“Yes. I did. I think Julia means all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. We have to acknowledge that we need repentance of our own in order to safely stand before his judgment.”

Hazel shook her head at him. “You ain't speakin' to no heathen here. I've heard that all my life.”

“It always serves us well to reflect on our hearts and the extent of God's grace.”

“Yes. Of course,” she told him impatiently. “But the prophets an' Jesus hisself made plain that we can't just nod our head at sin. We're s'posed to rebuke it. Put it 'way from ourselves—”

“And love one another,” the pastor added.

I smiled.

“The Hammond boys are here,” Pastor Jones suddenly
said brightly. “Dedicated young men. I didn't know we could expect them without their father.”

He started for the door, and Juli and I followed him, leaving Miss Hazel to stand and stew by herself. Young Sam and Joe were just coming in with the little boys. It didn't look like Willy and Kirk were with them. If they'd come in George's wagon, they must have started out well before we did.

Thelma Pratt hurried to Sam, asking about Franky and taking hold of Harry before he crawled under a pew.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wortham,” she said quickly. “Are you going straight to your Sunday school room? I can hold Emmie for you if you'd like.”

“Thank you, Thelma,” Juli said. “That's very kind.”

Juli took Harry's hand, and Thelma took Emma Grace. Thelma stared for a moment at my black eye. I guess everybody was wondering, but it was Joe who asked.

“What happened, Mr. Wortham? Pa wasn't mad at you, was he? Surely he wouldn't bust ya—”

“No. It had nothing to do with him.”

“Must a' been your brother, then,” Joe decided. “Hope you cleaned his clock. I sure wouldn't blame you. I felt like bustin' him myself. They hadn't oughta let people drive who don't watch. Franky was just tryin' to be nice, cleanin' off his car for him.”

“I know. He's a good kid. I feel bad that he got hurt.”

“Weren't your fault.”