The Fiery Ring (11 page)

Joy laughed. “My dad had a dog once named Revelation.”

It was the first time she had mentioned her family, and Chase picked up on it. “Why in the world did he call him that?”

“He said he called him that because he didn’t understand a thing about that book—and he could never understand anything about that dog either.”

Chase smiled. “I’ve known a few animals like that myself. Do you like animals?”

“Yes, we always had pets.” Joy’s face softened as she said, “Once I got to raise a wolf.”

“Is that right! Where did you get it?”

“A friend of my dad’s killed the mother, and then he found these little pups. He killed all of them but one, and my dad got it and brought it to me. It was so small. I had to feed it by hand.”

“What did you feed it?”

“Oh, at first I would just dip a cloth in some milk and let it suck the cloth.” The distant memory came back to her, and she said, “I called it Buck, like the dog in
Call of the Wild.
”

“I would guess you didn’t get to keep it, though.”

Surprise washed across Joy’s face. “How’d you know that?”

“Because wild animals don’t make good pets after they’re grown. They’re cute enough when they’re kittens and pups, but they eventually grow up. Even coons are wild animals, as cute as they are when they’re babies.”

“Why, that’s right!” Joy exclaimed. “I raised one of those too. He stayed around a long time, but finally he went back to the forest. I cried all day, I think.” She turned back to the stove, saying, “Oh no, I’m going to burn your dinner!”

Chase went back to reading the New Testament but contented himself with reading the Gospel of John instead of the mysterious book of Revelation. When Joy told him dinner was ready, he looked up with surprise. “I got caught up in the stories in the book of John,” he said. “Are you a Christian, Joy?”

Joy had been spooning out stew with one of the two spoons the station agent had given her. “I used to think I was,” she said tersely. “Now I don’t know.” She set the stew on an up-ended crate she had put beside his bunk. She returned with a piece of bread and said, “I wish we had some butter.”

“This is fine. Why don’t you sit down and join me?”

Joy got herself a bowl of the steaming stew and sat down on the box she used for a chair. She took a spoonful and tasted it cautiously. “It’s hot.”

“But good. You’re a good cook, Joy.”

“Anybody can make stew.”

“Not me. I could never cook anything.”

The two ate slowly, saying little, and just as they were finishing, Joy lifted her head. “Listen.”

Chase had caught it too. “Buggy pulling up.”

“I expect it’s Sister Hannah. She said she’d come by about noon.” She took Chase’s empty bowl and put it on the small shelf, then went to open the door. “Hello, Sister Hannah,” she said, smiling.

Hannah was getting out of the buggy. She tied the mare up to a small sapling and then nodded as she stepped up onto the rear platform. “How’s the patient?”

“Much better. Come on in and take a look at him.”

Chase greeted her with a big smile. “Hello, Sister.”

“Lemme see them stitches.” Hannah tilted Chase’s head with one hand on the top of his head and the other under his chin. Her eyes narrowed as she studied her handiwork. “Not a bad job of stitchin’ if I do say so myself. Have to take them stitches out maybe in a few days.” She started unbuttoning his shirt without asking permission.

“You don’t allow a fellow much modesty, do you?”

“When you’ve raised kids like I have and handled as many sick men, they ain’t much time for modesty.” She palpated his chest and sides, giving him instructions all the while. “Take a deep breath. Does that hurt? Can you turn thisaway?”

Finally she straightened up and said, “Good thing them ribs wasn’t broke. You’d be in bed for months. The Lord is doin’ a good work of healin’.”

“I just made some stew, Sister Hannah. Sit down and eat a bite.”

“There ain’t no time for that,” Hannah said flatly. “Get your things together.”

Joy exchanged a startled glance with Chase, then stammered, “But-but where are we going?”

“You’re going to my house, that’s what.”

Chase shook his head. “Wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Ain’t no bother about it, but it ain’t fittin’ for a man and a woman what ain’t married to stay together. So don’t argue with me none. You’re goin’, and that’s the way it is.”

Joy swallowed hard and felt her cheeks grow warm. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

“The Bible says ‘Abstain from all appearance of evil.’ ” Hannah’s voice was sharp, but then a kindly light appeared in her eyes. She reached out and ran her hand over Joy’s light hair. “I know you ain’t done nothin’ wrong, honey, but people talk, so you’re comin’ with me. Don’t worry about crowdin’ me. That big old barn of a house has got more bedrooms than you could shake a stick at. Back a few years ago I had
it full of young’uns, but then my husband went to be with the Lord, and the kids all growed up, and I’m all by myself there. So get yourself ready, because we’re a-goin’!”

****

“You’ve gotta take it easy, Chase. Got plenty of time. Don’t move them ribs around no more than you can help.”

Chase held himself carefully upright in the seat of the buggy. Joy sat between him and Sister Hannah, and when they arrived at the house, both women got out and helped him get down. Pain shot through him as his heels hit the ground, and he took a deep breath. “Not too bad,” he said. “I think I can make it.”

“You just keep ahold of him, Joy,” Sister Hannah admonished. “Men ain’t got no sense about takin’ keer of themselves.”

As the trio moved through the gate of the picket fence, a sudden barking startled Joy. She looked over to see the German shepherd that had barked at her on her first visit hit the end of its chain, fangs bared. She asked, “Is that your watchdog, Sister Hannah?”

“He’s just a no-count dog, that’s what he is. His name’s Jake, but it might as well be Satan!”

“He looks like he could eat somebody up.”

“I reckon you got that right. My grandson Caleb, he had the crazy idea that I needed protection and brought that dog here a couple weeks ago. Keerful now goin’ up these steps—just take it slow and easy.” As she helped Chase up several steps to the front porch, she laughed, “That Caleb! Sometimes I think that young’un ain’t got a lick of sense! He gave me that dog to protect me, and I can’t even get close enough to feed him. If he ever gets loose, I expect he’ll half kill me.”

They reached the porch, and Hannah opened the door. “Bring ’im on in here. I got a room on the first floor. You can stay upstairs, Joy.”

Chase’s room was large, and the two high windows
admitted plenty of sunlight. A walnut bedstead with a red-and-white counterpane all turned back was waiting.

“You might as well get out of them clothes. You gotta have a bath.”

“I guess I can do that myself.”

“We’ll see about that. Who’s gonna wash your back? You answer me that.”

Chase laughed. “All right, Sister Hannah, you’re the doctor.”

“You just keep thinkin’ that, son! Come on, I’ll show you your room, Joy,” Hannah said.

Joy followed the large woman back into the hall, then up a flight of stairs. At the top she saw that there were two doors, one on each side. Hannah opened the one on the right, saying, “There ain’t no heat up here, but you can come downstairs when you get cold. We got plenty of blankets for the night-time.”

“Oh, it’s a beautiful room!”

“It is pretty, ain’t it, now.”

The room, not as large as the one downstairs, had a sloping ceiling to follow the roof and a large window at one end. A worn blue carpet covered the floor. The bed was made up with several blankets, and the pillow was fluffy and thick.

“One of my granddaughters, Lucy, she lived here with me a spell afore she went off to college in St. Louis. She left some of her clothes here. I reckon they’ll jist about fit you. They’re in that closet over there.” She gestured toward the closet, then added, “Reckon you’d like to have a nice hot bath, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh yes!” Joy said fervently. She felt gritty and grimy, and just the thought of a good bath warmed her heart.

“Let’s let Chase get cleaned up first, then you can take your turn in the tub. Go ahead and pick out some of them clothes. There’s some underwear over in the drawer of that bureau. Good thing Lucy’s about yore size.”

“But . . . I can’t take her clothes!”

“Them clothes is goin’ to waste. Pick somethin’ out, and I’ll start heatin’ the water for Chase.”

****

Joy sank down in the tub and luxuriated in the hot water—as hot as she could stand it. Her knees stuck out, and she closed her eyes and laid her head back.

“Might as well wash your hair while you’re in there. The well water here is pretty soft. ‘Course I use rain water sometimes, but I ain’t catched any lately.”

“Oh, that would be good! My hair is so dirty and grimy.”

“I got some store-bought hair soap from the Sears ’n Roebuck catalog. Ain’t even out of the box.” Sister Hannah rummaged in a cabinet, located the soap, and handed it to Joy. “You just enjoy a nice bath. I’ll lock the door so cain’t nobody get in. Not that I’m expectin’ anybody.”

Joy soaked until she felt like a prune, then scrubbed herself with a washcloth and washed her hair. Finally she got out of the tub and dried off with the fluffy white towel Sister Hannah had left her. She slipped into the underwear she had found in the drawer. The clean garments delighted her, and the dress was a perfect fit, better than any of her old dresses had fit her. It was light green with small white flowers. She slipped on a pair of stockings and a pair of black shoes that were a little large, but not by much. She unlocked the door and sat down beside the kitchen stove, drying her hair with a towel. She was trying to comb it with her fingers when Hannah returned.

“Land sakes, you can’t comb your hair like that! Let me get you a comb.”

Hannah disappeared and was back almost at once. “You set still whilst I comb it out.”

Joy sat upright, and an unfamiliar feeling of luxury swept over her. No one had helped her with her hair since her mother had died, and a lump rose in her throat as Hannah gently pulled the comb through her hair. It always made her drowsy
when someone combed or brushed her hair, but it was a comforting drowsiness. Finally she said, “Thank you, Sister Hannah. I’ll just tie it back.”

“You got right pretty hair. Always was partial to blond hair. Ain’t none of my children exactly blond. My youngest—her name was Fairy—she had kinda reddish hair with a light streak, but yours now is a real pure blond color.”

“What can I do to help with chores, Hannah?”

“Well, be time pretty soon to be thinkin’ about supper. You know how to kill a chicken and cut it up?”

“Oh yes.”

“Well, go pick out a nice one, and while you get it ready I’ll do the rest.”

Joy started out the door, but Sister Hannah said, “Put on a coat, young lady! It’s cold out there—always is in March. And put that sweater on first.” She pointed to a sweater draped over the back of a chair.

Joy put on the blue sweater, then the coat Hannah handed her, and went outside. She heard the clucking of the chickens and followed the sound around to the back of the house, where she found a large area fenced in with chicken wire. She chose a fine young chicken that came trustingly up to her. She reached down, stroked the hen for a moment, then said regretfully, “I’m sorry, but we’ve got to have something to eat.” Expertly she reached down, grasped the chicken around the neck firmly, and with one practiced motion, swung it upward in a wide circle. The head separated, and the headless body hit the ground. As she knew it would, the hen got to her feet and began running around wildly. It fell twice, kicking and bloodying the ground with bright red blood. Finally it lay still, and Joy went over and picked up the body. It always troubled her to have to kill chickens—but she’d learned that such things were a part of life. She sat on a stump in the yard and plucked the chicken, and then finally she went back into the warmth of the kitchen.

Sister Hannah nodded. “I watched you take care of that
hen. Ain’t it a caution the way they run around after they have their necks wrung?”

“I never could understand it,” Joy said, laying the chicken on the cutting board. “If you’ve got a sharp knife, I’ll gut it and cut it up.”

“Right there in that drawer.” Hannah studied the hen and then laughed aloud. “Reminds me of some church members. Some of the most active ones ain’t worth nothin’. I always say the most active chicken in the barnyard is the one that just had its neck wrung—and some church members that make the most commotion ain’t got nothin’ in ’em.”

Joy had a good laugh, and it was the first time Sister Hannah had seen the girl release the tension that had bound her. As Joy expertly prepared the chicken, Hannah said, “You remind me of my middle girl, Susie. She’s the one who went to be with Jesus two years ago.”

Joy looked up. “That must have been very difficult.”

“She was never healthy. Had a lot of sickness, but I loved her. She was always my favorite, but I tried not to show it.” She came over and stood beside Joy and stared out the window. The big dog, Jake, had come to the end of his chain, and was filling the air with savage snarls directed at a man who was walking down the road. “That’s a bad dog. I’m gonna have to get rid of him.” She turned then and said quietly, “You know, Joy, I got mad at God when He took my daughter Susie. I wouldn’t even speak to Him for nearly a year.”

Startled by this revelation, Joy stared at the older woman. There was strength and character in every line of the old face, and she thought,
That’s what I’m doing. I’m mad at God because He took my parents and my sister. . . .

“But then, you know, that all changed one day. I was poutin’ and wouldn’t read the Bible and wouldn’t do what God told me to do. I was just downright mad. And then I remembered somethin’. I remembered when I was just a little girl, no more than five or six years old, I pulled up some of my mama’s prize flowers. Well, she cut a switch from the apple tree and
took me by the arm and started switchin’ my legs.” A smile touched the older woman’s lips as she said softly, “I tried to get away, and the further I got, the more room she had to swing that switch—and the more it hurt. And you know what happened then, Joy?”