The Fiery Ring (12 page)

“What?”

“I was tryin’ to get away, and somehow I ran right into her. I grabbed her around the legs and held on to her, and I started cryin’ out, ‘I love you, Mama!’ and I found out somethin’ right then about God.”

“About God? I don’t understand.”

“Well, when I was tryin’ to get away, my mama had plenty of room to swing that switch, but there I was holdin’ on to her, and she couldn’t swing it with her whole arm. She could just pat me, sort of. It didn’t hurt near so bad, and then I kept tellin’ her I loved her, so she quit switchin’ me. She put her arms around me, and I remember she cried that day—and my mama wasn’t a cryin’ woman.” The distant memory caused Sister Hannah’s face to grow soft. “Not long after that, I run across a verse in the Bible. It said, ‘Kiss the Son, lest he be angry.’ So I learned somethin’. When God’s whippin’ us, we don’t need to be tryin’ to run away. We need to turn to Him and throw our arms around Him and tell Him we love Him.”

The kitchen was silent then, and Joy Winslow felt tears rise in her eyes. The story had touched her, and she could say nothing. Her throat grew thick, and she turned away and began fumbling with the pieces of chicken. “Do you want me to fry these?”

“We’ll wait a spell, so they’ll be hot for supper.” Hannah’s hand fell on Joy’s shoulder. She said nothing, but there was a warmth to her touch that made Joy feel even more vulnerable. After a moment Hannah changed the mood, saying, “Can you make biscuits?”

****

“What are you doing up?” Joy asked with surprise a few
days later. She stepped into the kitchen to find Chase fully dressed and sitting at the kitchen table. Sister Hannah had gone to visit a sick member of her congregation, and Joy had just come inside after feeding the livestock.

“I couldn’t stand that bed anymore,” Chase said. “I had to get up and stretch my legs.”

Chase had been getting out of bed more each day, but he usually just sat in a rocker in his bedroom. Now he had more color in his cheeks, and Joy said, “You look better.”

“I feel better.” Chase carefully took a deep breath and shook his head. “That feels good. I feel like I can get some air down in my lungs.”

“Well, what do you want for breakfast?”

“Anything!”

“I doubt that. I think I’ll fix pancakes.”

She began pulling the ingredients out of the cabinets. During the five days they had stayed at Sister Hannah’s, Joy had learned everything about the house. She rose early, washed, cleaned, ironed, took care of the animals, and worked in the kitchen. Sister Hannah had shaken her head. “You are a working machine. Slow down, girl!”

It pleased Joy to work hard. She had tried once to express her thanks to Sister Hannah, but the silver-haired woman had said, “Just pass it on, child. You’ll find somebody that needs help. As a matter of fact, you already did—with Chase in there. That’s what we live for. To love God and to love each other.”

Now as she poured the batter into the large black frying pan, Joy thought back to the day she had met Chase. She asked him, “Do you miss drinking, Chase?”

“I haven’t even thought about it. That surprises me too. I haven’t gone this long without drinking in ages.”

“I’m glad.”

“Pretty hard way to stop drinking.”

Joy was hesitant. “Have you been drinking a long time?”

“Couple years.”

It was on the tip of Joy’s tongue to ask him why he had started drinking, but she knew that would not be right. She gave Chase the first two pancakes, then said, “You start on these while I fix some more.”

Chase looked at the golden brown pancakes and shook his head. “You are a fine cook, Joy.”

“My mother taught me.”

The two ate breakfast slowly, coating the pancakes with rich, fresh butter and dousing them with cane ribbon syrup. The fried ham not only tasted good but also left a delicious aroma in the air.

“I haven’t eaten this good in a long time,” Chase murmured.

“Neither have I. I’ll be fat as a hog if I don’t slow down.”

“I doubt that.”

Joy was wearing another of Lucy’s dresses that had been hanging in the closet. It was pale blue with a white collar and nipped in at her waist. Chase noticed that the dress fit her perfectly, and he admired the easy way she moved about the kitchen. When she refilled his coffee cup, he said, “We can’t stay here forever.”

“No, but it’s sure been nice compared to the caboose.”

****

The next day as Sister Hannah was returning from another one of her visits to a sick church member, she pulled the buggy into the driveway, then stopped abruptly and stared at Chase. He was sitting on an empty apple crate in front of Jake. The dog was staring at him, his lips drawn back from his teeth. Hannah wanted to tell the man to get away from the dog, but she was afraid she would startle the animal. Quietly she went inside the house and found Joy mopping the kitchen floor. “You know what that fool Chase is doing?”

Joy looked up, wiped her hands on a towel, and said, “What?”

“He’s out there tryin’ to make friends with Jake. Might as well make friends with the devil himself!”

Joy went to the front room and looked out the window. “He shouldn’t be doing that,” she whispered. “That dog could tear him to pieces.”

“I guess he knows that. Kinda funny, ain’t it? He’s the first one I ever seen come anywhere close to that dog.”

“I thought he’d gone back to his room. He must’ve been out there the whole time you were gone.”

The two women were puzzled by this, and when Chase came in thirty minutes later, Sister Hannah said, “Chase, you stay away from that dog.”

“Why? He’s a fine dog.”

“Fine? He’ll bite your head off!”

“No, he won’t do that.”

“What were you doing out there with him, Chase?” Joy demanded.

“Just getting to know him—and letting him get to know me. There’s a good dog down in that animal somewhere. He just has to find out about it himself.” He smiled, and there was a winsome look about him. His olive skin and black hair went well together, and even in the few days he had been at Sister Hannah’s, he had put on enough weight that his cheeks were no longer sunken. His eyebrows were dark and arched in an unusual fashion.

“You’re gonna get dog bit,” Sister Hannah warned.

“Why, Sister, don’t you think God can take care of me?”

“If Jesus told you to do it, it’s fine. But if it’s jest somethin’ you thunk up, you’ll get bit. The Bible says, ‘Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God.’ ”

“Yes, that’s in Matthew 4:7.”

Hannah was surprised at Chase, and a look of grudging admiration flickered in her eyes. “Well, you ain’t got completely away from your raisin’, have you, boy?”

“I’ve gone pretty far.”

“Well then, you’re goin’ to church tomorrow, so make up
your mind to that. If you’re strong enough to sit out by that worthless dog, you’re strong enough to sit through a sermon!”

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Woman at the Well

As Sister Hannah halted the buggy beside a grove of pin oak trees that bordered a plain white church, Joy felt strange. She glanced at Chase, who was clean-shaven and wore the same clothes she had always seen him in, only freshly washed and pressed. She was wearing the blue dress that had belonged to Sister Hannah’s daughter. She felt strange about coming to church and wondered if Chase felt the same. He said nothing, however, as he braced himself against the jolts of the buggy and the dirt road.

“Well, good morning, Sister Hannah.” The speaker was a tall, broad man with bushy brown hair and cheerful brown eyes. He smiled and reached out to help Hannah to the ground.

“Good morning, Brother Felix. We’ve got some visitors this mornin’. This is Chase Hardin and Joy Smith. This here is Elder Felix Bone.”

“Kinfolk of yours?” Elder Bone asked.

“No, not a bit of it,” Sister Hannah replied. She scanned the churchyard, which was covered with wagons, cars, and trucks. She looked at the church building and said, “The church house looks plum good. That coat of white paint shore makes it stand out. I like to see the Lord’s house lookin’ sprite.”

“It does look good, don’t it? Well, I hope you got a good sermon for us this mornin’, Sister. I think the congregation needs a little brimstone.”

Hannah smiled and shook her head. “A little fire and
brimstone goes a long way, Brother Felix. What folks need to know is the love of Jesus.”

“Amen! Hallelujah! Praise God, you’re right.” Elder Bone nodded his head with each word and then said, “I’ll go in and prime the pump, get the singin’ started.”

Hannah turned back to Chase and Joy. “A good man, Felix Bone. Used to be a bootlegger. He got saved by the grace of God and now leads our singin’. C’mon, I’ll see you get good seats right down in front.”

Joy thought,
I’d rather have one in the back,
but she did not argue. She and Chase followed Sister Hannah as she made her way into the church. Joy took in the simple meeting place in a glance. The ceiling was high and formed of rough pine, and bare light bulbs hung from naked wires. The walls were whitewashed, and the smell of pine filled the building. Hannah directed them into the second pew, and when Joy sat down she found it impossible to assume any position except one—bolt upright. The seat was so narrow she could not possibly slump, and the back went up at an uncomfortable right angle.

Chase was more interested in the people than he was in the architecture. The women all wore long-sleeved dresses, buttoned down to the wrists, and their skirts brushed their shoe tops. None of them, he noted, wore jewelry, and most of them had their hair plaited and bound up in a roll. One woman’s hair was done so tightly it pulled her eyes into a slanting position. None of them, of course, wore makeup.

The men, for the most part, wore overalls or jeans, but all of them wore white shirts and ties. It appeared to be a poor congregation, Chase noted. He leaned over and whispered to Joy, “This reminds me of some of the churches my dad pastored—everybody wearing their Sunday best, even if their Sunday best wasn’t much different from their everyday clothes.”

Joy had no chance to answer because Brother Felix had loosed a booming greeting on the congregation. “Well now,
we’re mighty glad you’re here in the house of God this morning. I want you to let God know how much you love Him and appreciate Him. We’ll start by singin’ ‘When I See the Blood.’ ”

The congregation all stood without being urged and sang vigorously to the accompaniment of an out-of-tune piano. As Joy glanced around she saw that most of the worshipers were enthusiastic. Some of them clapped their hands, and more than once someone would lift his hands and shout, “Glory to God!” or “Praise be to God forever!”

Joy was not accustomed to such enthusiasm in church. Her experience had been with more sedate churches and sour-faced participants. These worshipers actually looked like they were happy to be here. She glanced over at Chase and saw that he looked as uncomfortable as she felt. He was not singing, for like her, he probably did not know the words to any of the songs. His whole body looked tense, and he clasped the seat in front of him with splayed fingers and white knuckles.

I wonder what’s wrong with Chase. He grew up in church. This is not like anything I’ve ever seen myself—but I don’t know why it’s affecting him so. . . .

The singing went on for some time, much longer than Joy was accustomed to. There was a pause while the ushers took an offering, and then Sister Hannah said, “Now the Scripture tells us that if any of you are sick, you should call for the elders of the church. The elders shall anoint the sick with oil, and the prayer of faith shall save the sick. Any of you who have a sickness in your body, I want you to come down to the altar, and we’re going to see miracles.”

This was certainly outside of Joy’s experience, and she watched with astonishment as an older woman walked down the aisle and knelt at the front rail. Several other people came forward—the elders, Joy assumed—and laid their hands on the woman’s shoulders. Sister Hannah put one hand behind the woman’s head and with the other hand rubbed oil on the woman’s forehead. She then clasped the woman’s head
firmly with both hands and began to pray in a loud, piercing voice, “O God, this here is your daughter, and she is sick in her body. I pray, Lord Jesus, that you would heal her as you healed blind Bartimaeus, as you healed Naaman the leper. . . .” The prayer continued on, and with each phrase Sister Hannah would firmly shake the old woman until she almost reeled back and forth. Finally Sister Hannah opened her eyes and said, “Do you feel the power, Sister Irene?”

“I feel it! Praise God, He done healed my body.”

A chorus of amens and shouts went up, and then Sister Hannah turned to a bulky man who said, “I got me an ailin’ in my stomach, Sister, but I believe in the power of God.”

The healing prayers went on for half an hour, and all the time the congregation remained standing. Finally, however, everyone who went forward was prayed for, and Sister Hannah cried out, “Let’s everybody lift our hands and shout glory to God!”

As the congregation lustily shouted and raised their hands, Joy felt completely out of place. She did not know whether to imitate the worshipers—which would have been hypocritical in her mind—or simply keep her hands down and feel like a total alien. She saw that Chase simply stood there, neither lifting his hands nor saying a word, but his face was still full of tension.

Finally Sister Hannah said, “All right, you can sit now.” She waited until the congregation sat down and then picked up a black leather-covered Bible and said, “I intend to preach the Gospel to you this mornin’, and we’re goin’ to take our text from the fourth chapter of the Gospel of John. Find your Bibles now, and you follow along as I read.”

Chase pulled the New Testament from his pocket, opened it, and leaned forward, holding it so Joy could see it. They both followed along as Sister Hannah read a large portion of the chapter. It was a familiar enough story to Joy, and she assumed that Chase knew it well too. She had heard more than one sermon preached from this chapter, and when
Sister Hannah finished reading, she prayed loudly, “O God, let your spirit rest on me. Anoint me with the power of the spirit of God, and may every sinner in this house see himself as condemned and lost, held over the pits of hell! And then may he see the Lord Jesus as the only hope he’s got in this world. In the name of Jesus. Amen.”