Summer of the Redeemers (22 page)

I was about to race through the kitchen and out the door when Mama Betts stopped me. “Here.” She handed me a brown paper sack. “Take something to eat. You haven’t even had any breakfast.”

“Thanks.” I kissed her cheek, breathing in the smell of lemon and vanilla. The sunlight through the kitchen window made her white hair silvery. Even when she was mad at me she couldn’t stand the thought that I might be hungry.

“I put enough in there for you to share. You know it’s rude to eat in front of others.”

“Thanks, Mama Betts.” I kissed her again, meaning it even more. Mama Betts didn’t like Nadine a bit, but she would send her food so I could have some. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Emily Welford called this morning and asked that you stop by to see her on your way home.”

I balked. It was as if my feet refused to step forward, and I almost crashed into the kitchen table. “Why?”

“She didn’t say. But you used to like to stop by and visit Emily and Gus.”

Out the kitchen window I could see Nadine sitting in the truck with the engine idling. Ugly black smoke chugged out of the muffler. “That was before the jail.” That day in Jexville had soured me on the Welfords. They’d said things about Effie that couldn’t be taken back. I knew Emily Welford had been afraid. Afraid for Effie, and afraid of what she was doing. Like most of the other mamas on Kali Oka and around Chickasaw County, Emily left those kinds of issues to the men folks. And especially Mama going down to a jail cell with a Negro man. It was a shocking thing to Emily. But Effie had been in trouble.

“Emily wrote your mother a letter. She was afraid for you, Bekkah. She knows how headstrong you can be, and how much trouble you can get into. She did her best.”

“Maybe you think so. If it had been left up to Mrs. Welford, Effie could have been hurt and bleeding to death. None of those people would do a damn thing to help.”

“Rebekah Rich! I won’t have a child cursing in my home.”

I bolted out the door, letting the screen shut behind me. I was angry with Emily Welford, that was true. But I was also leery of talking with her. She was going to ask me questions about Jamey, and I didn’t want to answer them. Most of all, I didn’t want to lie.

“You look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet,” Nadine said as I climbed into the cab.

“The day just got off on the wrong foot.”

“Looks like you didn’t get much sleep.”

“Not much.” I stared out the truck window as Nadine drove.

“Looks like maybe you’ve discovered the pleasures of the flesh,” Nadine said. She was grinning to herself as she drove the old pickup with no attempt to avoid the washboard ruts.

I knew she was talking about fornicating, because she was always teasing Greg about sampling the pleasure of the flesh in regard to Jamey Louise. The idea of spending the night doing that was so far removed from what I’d been doing that I wanted to blast her with a scorching reply. “I’m not so simple-minded I have to fuck some boy to entertain myself,” I snapped. “I’m not Jamey Louise.”

“Boy-ee!” Nadine slammed the steering wheel with the butt of her hand. “Only guilt will give a girl a reaction like that. Was he good, Bekkah? Did he make your bottom wink?”

The lack of sleep and the horror of the whole night made me suddenly too tired to argue. “Have it your way, Nadine. I screwed my brains out.” I’d heard that one from Arly talking on the phone to one of his buddies. They lied all the time about what they did, and I knew for a fact Arly didn’t have any brains, so he couldn’t have ever screwed them out.

“Looks like you won’t be fit to work or ride today,” Nadine said, her foxy eyes bright with amusement. “Nope, I guess you rode a new stallion last night.”

“Right,” I answered. The day was already hot. Too hot. Black specks floated on the edge of my vision. I let out a startled cry as Nadine drove past the driveway to the old McInnis place. “Hey! Where are we going?”

“You got me so interested in that Cry Baby Creek, I thought we’d drive down there and take a look. You aren’t worth a hoot in hell for working. Maybe we’ll just have ourselves a little adventure. Go ghost hunting.”

My stomach clutched. I was glad I hadn’t eaten any of the breakfast Mama Betts had made.

“You haven’t seen any of those Redeemers coming home yet, have you?” Nadine asked.

I shook my head no. I remembered the scrap of lace in the pocket of my shorts. I could only pray Mama Betts wouldn’t decide to change the linens on my bed and find my dirty clothes. I was in enough hot water already. And I didn’t want to go back to Cry Baby Creek.

“Something wrong?” Nadine asked, slowing the truck slightly.

“Couldn’t we just go to the barn? I have a lot of work to do today, and Mama Betts has some chores for me this afternoon when I get home. She told me not to be late.”

“Jamey Louise volunteered to do all your chores for you.” Nadine hit the gas pedal again. “Wasn’t that sweet?”

“Hah! Jamey wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

“Let’s just say that I convinced her she wanted to clean your stalls.”

“I’m surprised she showed up for work at all since Greg’s out of town.” The truck rattled down the road. It hadn’t rained in over two weeks, and the red dust blew out behind us in a thick cloud. “Her mama wants me to come talk to her this afternoon.”

“What are you going to tell Mrs. Welford?” Nadine cast a quick look at me.

I couldn’t read her expression, but she knew that Emily Welford was going to ask me about what went on at Nadine’s barn. Jamey didn’t earn enough money to warrant working so hard. Over the course of the summer her arms had developed muscle and her legs were stronger. For the first time in her life she was working, and she was there everyday.

What was I going to say? “She knows that Jamey doesn’t care enough about horses to work just to be around them.”

“It took her all summer to figure that out?”

“Maybe she’s not the smartest critter upright and walking.”

Nadine laughed. “Is it your mama or grandmama who says such things about people?”

“Both.” It was true. When the tongues started wagging around the dinner table, sometimes the comments got sharp. Nobody in our family, not even The Judge, had much tolerance for stupidity. Or mediocrity. Effie was always telling me that there were two things any person could accomplish—mediocrity and marriage. She said even badness took a little more imagination. I started to tell all of this to Nadine, but then I remembered she had three marriages under her belt. She might think I was drawing some kind of comparison.

“So, what are you going to tell her?”

“That … we work real hard and don’t have a lot of time to talk.”

Nadine grinned. “Will that satisfy her?”

“I’m hoping. At least until I get off the property.”

Nadine pulled the truck over in the deep sand by the side of the road. One more curve and the bridge over Cry Baby Creek would be in sight.

“Why don’t we ride the horses down here tomorrow?” she asked.

“Can we?” The idea was the best I’d ever heard. Sometimes I dreamed about riding down the road or through the woods. I could feel the flickering pattern of sunlight and shade on my skin during the dream. I could smell the pines and the cleanness of the sun-charged air. But I’d never dared to hope that Nadine would actually let me ride Cammie down the road. She didn’t like trail riding, as she called it. She said it ruined a horse’s concentration for ring work.

“Tomorrow, if it doesn’t rain.”

I automatically looked up at a sky that heat had almost burned the blue out of. Not much chance of rain. Relief was a physical sensation. “Then let’s get back to the barn. I really have a lot to do.” Just being that close to Cry Baby Creek made me antsy.

“We’ll ride here tomorrow.” Nadine slipped the keys from the ignition. “Today we’re going to look for that ghost you’re always talking about. That little baby that was murdered by the preacherman. We won’t have another chance, Bekkah. The Redeemers are bound to be back in a day or two.”

“I don’t know …” I did know, and what I knew was that I didn’t want to set foot on the property again. I wanted to go home, to be with Mama and Mama Betts.

“You’re not afraid, are you?” Nadine asked. “You look a little pale, Bekkah.” She laughed and focused her bright eyes on me, taking in every detail. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I really want to go home.”

“Jamey Louise said you’d back out at the last minute.” Nadine jumped the keys in her hand a few times. “She said you had always been a baby, afraid of the dark. She said you were yellow through and through. I guess we can just drive back to the barn and tell her she was right.”

“Let’s go,” I said, not looking in Nadine’s eyes for fear she’d see that I was afraid.

We got out of the truck and started toward the creek. “What do you think you’re going to see?” I asked. Nadine had never shown enough interest to drive down to the creek before.

“Well, since the Redeemers are gone, I thought maybe we’d explore.”

“You mean go inside the church?” “Haven’t you ever done it before?”

“When it was abandoned, Arly and I used to come down here. And Alice too. But nobody was living here then.” Reluctance tinged my voice. It didn’t seem right to go on someone else’s property when they weren’t home. The night before, Alice and I hadn’t had a choice. But we’d stayed just in the sanctuary, and we hadn’t touched a thing. We weren’t poking around in the Redeemers’ private things. Nadine worried me. She hadn’t been raised exactly the same way Alice and I had.

“Jamey Louise said you’d be too afraid to go inside. She said you were scared of my barn.”

“I am not.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Nadine didn’t give me a chance to say no. She started toward the creek and marched right over the bridge. She didn’t even stop to look or listen before she pushed open the door of the sanctuary and went in. The door closed behind her while I stood on the bridge and watched. I had a powerful urge to walk home. Whatever Nadine was doing in that church, I didn’t want to know. She had an edge to her, something just a little bit wild. I’d sensed it before, but never to the point where it bothered me like this. Sometimes when I was riding Cammie I felt that she was putting the jumps high because I might not be able to make it. The risk excited her. It excited me, too, but it also was a little frightening. I felt the same way now, but it was worse. I wasn’t sure what Nadine was capable of doing.

Standing on the bridge wasn’t going to solve anything. I went after her. Maybe when she saw there wasn’t anything interesting in the church she’d leave.

When I pushed open the door, the stillness of the sanctuary rushed at me. The night before it had been different. At first I didn’t see Nadine. She was standing at the foot of the crucified Jesus, staring up at it.

“These people are really sick. Who would want to worship something like this?”

She didn’t really expect an answer from me, so I walked up behind
her and stood without saying a word. Up close and in the bright light, I could see the cords in Jesus’s neck as the drops of blood slipped down his face from the crown of thorns. His palms were split by heavy wooden spikes.

Sitting in the Sweet Water Methodist Church during Easter services, I’d always wondered why Jesus’ hands didn’t pull loose from the spikes when they nailed him on the cross. The weight of his body should have dragged him free.

The Blood of the Redeemers had taken care of that. Their Jesus was nailed
and
tied, his upper arms secured to the crossbar. Both feet were held with a single spike, and there was a bright red splotch of blood on the rag wrapped around his waist where the soldier had pierced him with a spear. All that was missing was the sponge filled with vinegar—a final cruelty for a dying man who had begged for water.

“How could anyone find anything of comfort or peace in this?” Nadine pointed at the crucifix. “This is barbaric. These people love blood and suffering. Redemption has nothing to do with what they crave. The real show is suffering and sacrifice.”

Nadine took a step closer, and I held my breath. I felt like an intruder, someone who’d stumbled into the middle of something extremely personal. In a way it was like watching Nadine with the rats. I knew what I was seeing was not right, yet I couldn’t look away. I was fascinated by her upturned face, the way she stared at the crucifix with what might be hatred, or maybe love.

“Nadine,” I whispered, “let’s go.” She was entranced by the crucifix. I thought she might reach up to touch it. Maybe even kiss it. Or else tear it apart.

“Nadine.” I started to touch her arm but stopped. “Let’s go home.”

“It’s odd, isn’t it? Have you ever seen a fat Jesus?” She turned around and looked at me, her foxy eyes filled with amusement. There wasn’t a glimmer of the other emotion she’d just shown. “A fat Jesus,” she repeated. “Why is it that Jesus always has a perfect body? You know, the golden blond hair, even though he was a Jew, blue eyes, perfect body.”

“Because he’s Jesus.” It was the only answer I had.

“Don’t you think niggers think Jesus is black?”

“Negroes? Do they?” I’d never stopped to consider such a thing.

Somehow it made me nervous, and I looked around to see if anyone had slipped up to the windows to stare at us.

“Well, it seems to me they’d think he looked like them.”

“Let’s go to the barn,” I urged her. The sanctuary was charged with a feeling of impending doom. Any minute the Redeemers would return. They’d find Nadine and me inside their church and they’d … the least they’d do would be to tell Effie and Mama Betts.

“We haven’t even looked to see where they live yet. Don’t you want to know where Greg sleeps? I mean, maybe they all just get in one big room and screw as the mood strikes.”

Nadine was filling my head with wild images. “We should leave. We don’t have a right to look at their private things.”

“You stay here, then,” Nadine said. “I’ve got every right.”

She went behind the piano and pushed open the door that led back to the Sunday school rooms and the hallway to the parsonage. I knew it from the days when Arly and Alice and I had spent time playing in the old church. I heard two footsteps on the linoleum, then she paused. “Keep an eye on those windows, Bekkah. The ones facing the woods. I thought I caught a glimpse of someone standing at the edge of the woods. A woman, I think.” Her footsteps echoed away.