Katie's Dream (29 page)

Hearing those words, Pastor turned to me again. “Barrett said he'd take me up to see Franky this afternoon. Would you like to come along, Samuel?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

Thelma took Emmie to a seat next to Delores Pratt, her mother. Julia took Harry, Berty, and Katie with her to a
Sunday school room. Joe went to find Robert and the older class. And I found a seat with Sam Hammond, behind Thelma Pratt. Sometimes Julia sat with Hazel and stayed in the sanctuary for the opening hymn before taking the little ones to class. But not today.

For adult Sunday school, Clarence Cole got up at the sound of a bell and talked on and on about sin and repentance, looking most of the time at me. I was glad Katie wasn't in here. I was glad Juli taught the Sunday school for her age. At least the child wouldn't have to be uncomfortable in her classroom.

I was feeling more and more uneasy. Sore. And closed in, as if the sanctuary were full of nothing but stagnant, dead air, though the windows and door were wide open. I bowed my head, feeling awfully heavy. But then, before Hazel Sharpe got up to play more hymns on the piano, Ralph Gray moved from his usual place to sit beside me. He didn't say anything. He didn't even look at me. He just sat there. And the world seemed better for it.

By the time the kids came back in, most of the heaviness was gone. Ralph's wife, the other Sunday school teacher, was ahead of Julia and sat down next to her husband. Their daughter, Rachel, my son, Robert, and Joe Hammond filled the rest of the pew. And just as Hazel Sharpe was sitting back down, Julia, with Sarah, Katie, Rorey, Harry, and Bert, moved quickly to join her. Most Sundays, Hazel tolerated Juli's presence, ignoring her for the most part. I would sit with them sometimes, and we would get a sideways glance or two and a pat on the back and a chuckle from some of the other church family who thought the whole thing funny. Worthams sitting with Hazel Sharpe. And nothing she could do about it! After all, she wouldn't get up and move. It was
her
pew.

But today, Hazel was particularly incensed. She tried to scoot over so there'd be less room for all the kids, but that didn't bother Harry at all. He only clambered around
to the other side of her. She plunked her shawl down on the seat, but he promptly sat on top of it. Juli didn't even seem to notice. She was sitting between Sarah and Katie, with Berty trying hard to climb up on her lap.

“Let us turn to the book of Luke,” Pastor was saying.

Hazel pulled her shawl out from under the boy, sliding him noiselessly on to the hard seat. He stared up at the feather in her hat, and she turned her eyes to the front, looking sour indeed.

“Judge not, and ye shall not be judged: condemn not, and ye shall not be condemned. Forgive, and ye shall be forgiven . . .”

Harry's hand was slipping up, while he watched Hazel's face to see if she was noticing. I was too far away to stop him. Juli didn't see. And Vivian Day, sitting directly behind them, didn't pay the slightest bit of attention.

“Harry, no,” I whispered. But of course he didn't hear me. I was hoping someone closer to him would. Maybe they would stop him. But quick as a wink, Harry's little hand shot the rest of the way up, yanked that bright yellow feather from its place, and then jerked back down again. And he sat up straight, looking at the preacher as if nothing had happened.

Hazel's hat fell off her head. I could see her turning crimson, whether from embarrassment or rage, I wasn't sure. And Harry, the little rascal, just sat there snickering.

“. . . with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again . . .”

I saw the pastor smile, turn his eyes toward Harry, and gently shake his head. Only then did I see that Harry was waving the feather in circles, down low where he wouldn't create too much of a scene. Hazel reached and grabbed the feather away from him. Juli finally noticed, but there was little she could do about Harry now.

Harry fidgeted, raced his fingers across the back of the pew in front of him, and otherwise gave poor Hazel fits
until Pastor's wife reached back and handed him a piece of paper. He spent the rest of the service carefully tearing it in shreds. When Hazel got up to play for the closing hymn, tiny bits of paper were clinging to her skirt and falling piece by piece to the floor.

She played loud and fast—the bounciest version of “The Lily of the Valley” I'd ever heard. And I kind of liked it.

NINETEEN

Julia

“Don't
ever
allow that little heathen to sit beside me again, Juli Wortham!” Miss Hazel puffed just as soon as Pastor dismissed the service. “What in the world is his father teaching him? What are
you
teaching him?”

“Well, not to be heathen, surely,” I said. “I'm sorry. I was so busy watching for Bert and Katie that I didn't notice him slipping ahead.”

“I'd hate to see what your classroom is like! We shouldn't have teachers who can't control the children, I say!” Hazel looked scornfully down at Harry. “Apologize, young man. Right this minute!”

Harry just gazed up with a coy little smile. “I 'pologize. I like your hat.”

Hazel looked like she could burst. I thought she might yell, but she didn't. “You are not to touch a lady's hat again! Do you understand? Nor any piece of it.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He smiled all the more brightly. “Purty feather. Nicerer than our chickens' feathers, I'll say.”

Miss Sharpe held it out like it was some distasteful thing and dropped it in his direction. “You might just as well keep it then, since you bent it all up. But if your father were here, I'd insist he take you to the woodshed! Juli, I expect you to inform George Hammond of his son's outrageous behavior.”

She started brushing the remaining bits of paper off of her skirt, and I tried to help her, but she only gave me a scowl. “Better tend to your own,” she warned. “Keep an eye on that husband of yours.”

I knew what she meant. And it was a cruel taunt, inferring that Samuel was untrustworthy.

Maybe I was feeling as ornery as Harry, but I just couldn't resist turning it around. “Why, thank you, Hazel. Some folks assume that a mother and Sunday school teacher has her place just with the children. It's nice of you to understand how much a blessing it is to train my attention on my own dear husband.”

I gave her a hug. A huge hug, right in front of everybody milling about. She looked at me like I'd completely taken leave of my senses. Shaking her head, she couldn't seem to utter a word.

“Have a wonderful day,” I told her. “Won't you come out and have dinner with us sometime? Have Herman bring you, and he can stay too.”

I hardly knew what I was saying. I could scarcely imagine being able to put anything on the table good enough to suit Hazel Sharpe, we had so little of everything. But Emma would have approved. Even if Hazel never came, I was glad I'd offered. After all, she had gotten Bibles for every one of the kids at Christmastime. In memory of Emma Graham. A stunningly generous act that had shocked everyone who had heard about it.

I hugged her again. “Thank you,” I whispered. “Thank you again so much.”

“Just . . . just what do you think you're doing, Juli Wortham?” she stammered. “I never seen the like!”

“I just appreciate you so. Those Bibles that you gave the children—”

She frowned. “Did they even bring 'em to church today?”

“Robert and Sarah did. I think the Hammonds forgot without Lizbeth home to remind them.”

“Without Lizbeth!” Hazel rolled her eyes. “George couldn't no more raise his kids than the man in the moon! Why, if it weren't for you an' Lizbeth, they'd all be naked and starved by now.”

“Well, women have an important role, that's sure, but George is doing his best.”

“That ain't my point! Lizbeth ain't a woman yet! An' your husband an' George Hammond are the poorest excuses for fathers in this whole church. I declare, Juli, why you put up with it all is beyond me. Havin' a liar and a cheat! But then maybe you don't know what else to do but follow 'long on his coattails.”

It was like being slapped, and I guess she meant it that way—even after I'd tried to pay her a compliment. I just sighed. “I can't say I understand you, Miss Hazel. Or why you say the things you do. But I'll love you anyway. Nothing will change that. Not even the way you feel about my husband, the dearest soul in the world to me.”

“He's got you blind, Juli-girl.”

I was surprised at her calling me that. Nobody had but Emma. I shook my head. “It's everyone else who's blind,” I said with a confidence I hadn't known I had. “Everyone else who thinks he could do anything at all to hurt his family.”

I started to turn away. Behind me I heard her muttering something about Samuel's fighting getting Franky
hurt and teaching the children who knows what.
She's just ignorant, that's all,
I told myself.
God have mercy on poor, ignorant Hazel.

I smiled down at Sarah and Katie. And Berty, who was tugging on my skirt. Rorey and Harry had already darted outside.

Before the rest of us could go out, Juanita Jones came up and put her arm around my shoulder. I was glad. The pastor's wife was such a dear friend, and I always liked the chance to talk to her. But this time, there was pain in her eyes. “Let me take the children for you. Paxton would like to see you and Samuel.”

It made me a little anxious to think of the pastor asking special to speak to us. It just wasn't right, the lies that were spreading like wildfire. But Pastor was amiable as always as he sat beside us in the front pew and began to explain his concerns about what he'd heard.

“Your brother was very angry,” he told Samuel. “But I found it difficult to believe what he was telling me. Nothing sounded like the Sam Wortham I know.”

“It isn't,” Samuel said solemnly.

“Do you know who Katie's father is?”

“No. That's the problem. We need your prayers. We're not sure what's next for the little girl, whether we'll have to send her somewhere to family, if we can find any, or keep her here.”

“Her own mother doesn't want her?”

“Not as far as we know, from Edward and from the girl herself.”

“Why do they say you're the father?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, how did the woman know your name?”

“I don't know that either. We've been thinking there must be someone else with the same name.”

“But not anyone you know?”

Samuel was quiet. “No,” he said finally. “Not since my father died when I was twelve.”

Pastor shook his head. “The child's not old enough to be your sister.”

“I know.”

“But she does look like you.”

“Everyone has noticed. That's why Ben Law didn't believe me. Too much to look past, I guess.”

“It was your brother who hit you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He's angry, like you said. That I wouldn't admit it. He really believes I'm guilty. In a way, I'm glad. At least he's not lying to me.”

“But the rest of what he said, about you tricking Mrs. Graham and trying to fool all of us—”

“His anger talking, I guess.”

“Is he dangerous? To anyone else?”

“I don't think so. Not on purpose. It was an accident with Franky. A stupid and careless thing because we were arguing. He just wouldn't let it drop and got in my face again on the way home. I tried, Pastor, not to lose my temper, but it wasn't easy.”

Pastor didn't have much more to say. He'd only wanted confirmation, I guess, of where Samuel's heart stood. And he told me he believed there should be no secrets between a husband and his wife. That's why he'd wanted me there.

“Your mild spirit is something to be admired in all of this, Julia,” he said.

I wondered what he would think if he knew what my real thoughts had been.