The Fiery Ring (32 page)

Sister Smith peered at him with alert eyes. “So you’re gonna be a preacher, Joy tells me.”

“That’s right. Don’t guess I’ll be as good a preacher as you, from what Joy says.”

“I reckon you will be. I feel the Spirit of God in you, young man. Now”—she leaned back and took a sip of the sassafras tea she had chosen over the coffee that the other two drank—“you tell me everything you’ve done. Letters are nice, but there ain’t nothin’ like a real live conversation.”

Sister Hannah listened eagerly as Joy spoke of what had happened since they’d left. She knew much of it, for Chase wrote to her regularly and kept her posted. She interrupted once in a while to exclaim, “Well, landsakes alive, I’d love to see you on top of that elephant—or in that cage with that tiger!”

“I love the circus,” Joy said, “but that’s enough about me. Tell me all about yourself, Sister Hannah.”

“Oh, there ain’t nothin’ to tell. I keep preachin’ the Word. What are you two doing way up here in the middle of winter almost?”

“We have to take this truck back to Florida for the winter. Chase is going to train a lot of new lions and tigers, and I’ve got to help him. But right now Travis and I are on our way to our old home.”

“Oh, you’re gonna see your people?”

“No, we’re not!” A frown leaped across Joy’s features. “We’re going back to get what’s ours.”

“How’s that?” Sister Smith asked carefully, glancing over at Travis. She saw something in his expression that warned her of family problems, and she listened as Joy explained angrily how her uncle had robbed the two of them of their inheritance and how determined she was to get some of their things.

This was the first time Joy had ever shared all of this with Sister Hannah, and the older woman said little, just quietly listened while Joy let it all spill out. When Joy was finished, Hannah said simply, “Well, it’s a shame when families have trouble. Let’s wash these here dishes, and young man, you go out there and chop some wood.”

The two women began to clear the table while Travis went out back, and as soon as they heard the sound of the splitting maul hitting the white oak, Sister Hannah said, “I’m a mite worried about you.”

“Why, I’m fine, Sister Hannah.”

“No, you ain’t. You got hard, hard feelin’s agin that uncle of yours and his young’uns. I know they done you wrong, but bitterness will kill you dead.”

Joy’s face flushed, for she knew that with her usual discernment, Sister Hannah Smith had seen right into the heart of what she had been feeling. “I can’t help it, Sister,” she said, her lips drawn in a tight line. “They stole my father and mother’s place, and they made slaves out of us. Travis wouldn’t have been in jail if it hadn’t been for them. I’m going to get back at them—you see if I don’t!”

A sorrowful expression crossed Hannah’s face, and she fell silent. She tried to think of something to say, but she had seen far too many people looking for revenge. She knew that bitterness would not kill someone as quick as a bullet, but it could be far more painful. She had seen so many lives wrecked by those who were unwilling to give up their hard feelings. Now she said simply, “I’ll be prayin’ for you, Joy. There ain’t no happiness for you until you let the Lord Jesus get this thing out of your heart.”

****

“It looks about the same,” Travis said mildly as he pulled the truck up in front of the two-story farmhouse. “They’ll be pretty shocked to see us, I guess.”

Joy’s face was set. Usually she had a pleasant smile, but
now anger flickered in her eyes. “They should be! If I had my way, we’d have the sheriff here to arrest them!”

“Ah, come on, Joy, let’s just be nice and get the things out of the attic.”

“I’m going to take some of the furniture too. We’ve got room for that!”

Joy got out and slammed the door of the truck with unnecessary force, and Travis followed. He was worried about this visit and had prayed much, but his prayers had not seemed to affect Joy. As the two mounted the porch, he said again, “Remember, if you want to gather honey, don’t kick over the beehive.”

Joy did not answer. Her face was pale and not just with cold. She rapped violently on the door with her knuckles, and when it opened she saw her aunt. “Hello, Aunt Opal,” she said coldly.

Opal Tatum blinked with surprise, and her hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh, my stars, it’s you, Joy—and Travis!” She stepped forward and put her arms around Joy. The young woman endured the embrace but said nothing. Travis, however, put his arms around Opal and hugged her, saying warmly, “It’s good to see you, Aunt Opal.”

“Come in out of the cold. Where did you two come from?” She looked at the truck that had the name of the circus emblazoned across it and said, “Are you in that thing?”

“Yes, we are. Is Albert here?” Joy asked.

Opal couldn’t miss the coldness in Joy’s tone. She gave Travis a look, and he only shook his head slightly. Not knowing how to interpret this, Opal said, “He’s in the living room with the kids. Come on in.”

Joy had looked forward to this moment of confrontation with Albert Tatum for a year and a half, and when she stepped into the living room, it gave her a fleeting pleasure to see shock run across his face. He leaped to his feet but was speechless. Olean and Witt were there also, and Olean cried out, “What are you two doing here?”

Albert seemed to have been freed from the silence that gripped him. “Well, you’ve come back,” he said. “I’m surprised you had the nerve after runnin’ away the way you did.”

“I’m surprised you have the nerve to even speak to me, Albert Tatum, after the way you treated us!”

“Treated you! You’re the one that run off!”

“What are you doing here?” Witt demanded. But then he seemed to remember how Travis had once soundly thrashed him, and he changed his tone of voice and said nervously, “We don’t want any trouble, Travis.”

“Of course not,” Travis said. He strolled forward and put his hand out to Albert. “I’m glad to see you again, Uncle.”

Albert Tatum flinched as if he expected a blow. He took the hand and then glanced across at Opal, who had come to stand beside him. Travis shook hands with Witt and said, “You’re all looking pretty well. I’m glad to see it.”

Somewhat relieved by Travis’s attitude, Albert said, “Well, I didn’t expect to see you two.”

“I don’t expect you did,” Joy said, “and you won’t see us long. We’ve just come to get what’s ours.”

Albert Tatum’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean what’s yours? There’s nothin’ here that’s yours.”

“Yes there is,” Joy said. “All this antique furniture is ours. It belonged to our parents.”

“You’re not getting any of this furniture,” Olean hissed. “It’s ours now. You ran away and left it.”

“I ran away to keep Witt’s hands off of me and nearly got killed doing it.” She turned to face Albert and said, “We’re taking everything that’s in the attic, and we’re taking what furniture we can haul too.”

Albert shouted, his face red, “You’re not taking anything! Get out of this house!”

Joy’s eyes blazed. Travis had never seen her like this. She took a step as if to attack Albert, and he quickly reached forward and caught her arm. “Hold it, sis.”

“You’d better hold it!” Tatum yelled. “I’ll have the law on
you if you try to take one thing! Now get out of here, and don’t you ever come back!”

“Look, Uncle Albert, never mind the furniture, but we—”

“Don’t beg, Travis!” Joy shouted. She stood there, her back straight, anger in every line of her face. “You won’t even give us our folks’ things in the attic?”

“I’ll give you nothin’! Now get out of here!”

Joy stared at him and for a moment Travis felt her body tense. Then she said in a voice as cold as polar ice, “All right, we’ll leave, but one day I’m going to find out what happened to the money that came out of the sale of our farm. And one day I’m going to have every stick of this furniture. And one day I’ll see you put in jail for the thief that you are! Come on, Travis.”

Travis shook his head, knowing it was no use to say any more. He followed Joy outside, and when the two were in the truck, he started the engine. He pulled away and looked back to see Albert standing on the porch, shaking his fist at them. His wife was trying to speak to him, but he simply shoved her back. Travis shook his head. “That’s one unhappy man,” he said. “I feel sorry for his wife.”

Joy did not say a word for the next hour. She sat bolt upright in the truck, her face pale, until finally she turned to Travis and said bitterly, “He’ll be sorry one day, Travis. You’ll see. I’ll
make
him sorry.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

The Strange Woman

As soon as Travis put the brakes on and brought the truck to a grinding halt, he turned to Joy and said wearily, “Well, it was sure a long drive, but we’re here finally.”

Joy looked around at the setting and found it quite different from a circus. There were heavy wire cages all around, where she could see the animals were feeding. The elephants seemed to be enjoying spraying each other with water out of a pond, and the trailers were all parked in one area. “It looks nice,” she said. She opened the door and got out, and Travis came around and joined her. He stretched his back and said, “I’m glad to be here.”

“But you’ll be leaving soon for Bible school.”

Travis put his arm around her and smiled. “Yes, I will. You understand that I’ve got to go, don’t you?”

“Of course.” She hugged him and then hesitated for a moment before saying, “I’m sorry I was such a beast at the Tatums and then all the way back. I’ve got a vile temper.”

“No you don’t, sis.” Travis shook his head. “You’ve just let your bitterness get a hold of your heart, and I’m praying that you will be able to get rid of it.”

Joy did not have time to answer, for Oz came barreling up, rolling as he walked, as always. He reached up to shake Travis’s hand, and as soon as he had greeted them, he said, “Did you hear about Colonel House?”

“No, we haven’t heard anything.”

Oz pulled his hat off, and his face reflected genuine sorrow.
“I hate to be the one to tell ya,” he said with some hesitation, “but we lost the colonel.”

Neither Travis nor Joy were shocked, as the colonel hadn’t been well in quite some time. “Was it his heart?” Joy asked.

“Yes, it was. He went to bed one night, and the next morning when Stella tried to wake him up, he was gone. Not a bad way to go,” he said regretfully.

“What’s going to happen with the circus?” Joy said.

“Stella’s taken over. She’d been doing most of the work anyway. We’ll need a new ringmaster for next season. They’re pretty hard to find, but I’m sure she’ll find somebody.”

“Is Chase all right?”

“Working night and day. He’s got a whole bunch of new cats he’s training, and he hardly takes time to eat or sleep. I’m glad you’re here. Maybe you can take some of the load off him, Joy.” He hesitated, then said, “You got back just in time. The funeral’s this afternoon at three o’clock.”

****

The funeral of Colonel Maurice House was simple. The chapel of the funeral home was crowded with circus performers, workers, and House’s many friends and acquaintances. Some had traveled long distances to be there. House had been in the circus business a long time and knew people from all over the country in both the circus and business worlds.

Joy sat beside Travis and whispered, “I wonder where Chase is. I thought he’d be here.”

“He’s coming. He told me he was,” replied Travis.

Oz, sitting on the other side of Joy, said, “Look, there he is.”

Joy looked up to see Stella coming in through a side door, escorted by the funeral home director, a tall man dressed in a black suit. Close by her side was Chase. Stella was dressed in black and wore a hat with a black veil, and she clung to Chase’s arm as she took her seat in the front row. Everyone had stood when they came in. Joy was disturbed at the sight
of Stella holding on to Chase like that. She had expected Chase to comfort her, but her action seemed much too possessive to Joy.

As they sat down again Oz whispered, “Stella’s been leanin’ on Chase pretty heavy since the colonel died. She doesn’t have many real friends, you know. I guess she depends on Chase more than anyone. Good thing he’s here to help her through it.”

Travis heard this whisper and cast a covert glance at his sister. He saw that her face was tense, but she said nothing. Leaning back, he thought,
I hate to see her like this. She’s not herself.

The funeral was mercifully brief. The pastor of a local church read the eulogy and a group of Scripture passages, then preached the sermon. Afterward he announced that there would be a graveside ceremony for those who cared to attend immediately following the service.

“I guess we’d better go,” Travis whispered.

“All right.” Joy really had no desire to go, but she accompanied Travis anyway. They joined the long parade of cars, which all turned their lights on and followed the police escort. The country was flat as far as Joy could see, with flowers blooming everywhere. After being in the frozen north, it was strange to see such an abundance of gorgeous plants waving in the breeze along the road as they passed by in the funeral procession.

When they got to the cemetery, she took Travis’s arm, and Oz accompanied them as they made their way to the green tent that swayed slightly in the breeze. They waited until Stella got out of the long black limousine and took Chase’s arm. The two followed the minister to the tent, where they sat down together, and then the minister waved the rest of the crowd in.

Joy led Travis and Oz to the front row. She heard little that was said, for she was watching Chase and Stella closely. She could barely see Stella’s face because of the black veil, but
she noticed that even as they sat there, she kept her hand on Chase’s arm the whole time, as if for an anchor.

Finally she lifted her veil. Her face seemed pale, but she displayed little emotion as the minister read the Scriptures.

Chase looks worse than she does,
Joy thought, noticing that his olive complexion was weathered, and he looked thinner than usual. His coal black hair made a striking contrast, and sorrow reflected in his eyes as he listened to the readings.