Текст книги "Equal Access"

Автор книги: A. E. Branson

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

Chapter Five

See, I refine you, but not as silver; I test you in the furnace of affliction.

–Isaiah 48:10

The meeting house for the local congregation of the Society of Friends, better known to most of the world as Quakers (when they weren’t being confused with Amish or Mennonite), was a simple, white, rectangular building that stood amidst trees along the rural highway. There wasn’t any kind of signage to designate the structure’s purpose, and this was mostly because no name had ever been assigned to it. The Friends of Osage County didn’t need to differentiate themselves from any other groups of Friends in the area because there were none. In a county where the Catholics outnumbered every other variety of denomination, the Osage Friends congregation was the smallest of the small.

Comprised of never more than a dozen families, mostly farmers, they were one of the groups that continued clinging to many of the old traditions while other Friends churches across the country had changed. These people still revered silence. Naturally there had been a few changes over the years. The men and the women no longer sat on opposite sides of the room. Family and friends stopped referring to each other as “Thee” long ago. And nobody dressed like the dude on the oatmeal box, although simple, “classic” clothing was preferred.

Once upon a time the group eschewed wedding bands with all other jewelry, but Margaret Leeds had been the first to break that tradition in this congregation. Her argument was that marriage was a sacred state of union instituted by God from the beginning to bring humanity closer to Him. For a husband and a wife to make and keep a promise to each other was a reflection of the promise God makes and keeps with His people. The Church was, after all, the bride of Christ. Therefore married people should have an outward “sign of the covenant” to silently proclaim God’s promise.

Margaret Leeds showed up in the congregation shortly after war broke out between the states. She was still only a fourteen-year-old girl. Margaret was from Kentucky, the daughter of a “mixed-blood” Cherokee mother and a slave trader father. Unfortunately for her father’s profession, Margaret had become an abolitionist and even helped some slaves to escape. When her father discovered Margaret’s “treachery,” he threw her out of the house.

Margaret stayed only briefly with some Friends she had come to know while helping with their “line” of the Underground Railroad. She feared if she lingered too long, her father would cause them harm. The Friends told her they had some relatives who lived in Missouri, in a town near that state’s capital, which was surely far away enough to keep everybody safe. While en route to her destination, Margaret received divine inspiration that she should become a member of the Society of Friends. Thus convinced, she entered the congregation and eventually gained such renown locally that Margaret continued to be referred to as “Leeds” even when she got married shortly after the war ended.

Shad couldn’t imagine belonging to any other denomination, or, for that matter, to the “programmed” Friends who had preachers and sang hymns and pretty much looked like any other protestant flock. He had a little experience with other expressions of faith thanks to his participation in Boy Scouts, where Shad was exposed to ecumenical meetings and occasionally a few services at “steeple houses” where other members of his troop worshipped. He once attended a Catholic Mass when Dulsie’s Grandma Wekenheiser passed away a few months before their wedding. Although his acceptance of his family’s faith – of faith in general – hadn’t come easily, he finally embraced the quiet gathering of the unprogrammed Friends.

Even though it was only country roads between their home and the meeting house, Dulsie drove because that was their habit. She wore a light maroon dress and Shad was attired in tan chinos and the usual button-down shirt, this time teal in color. When Dulsie parked the Buick in the gravel parking lot there were eight other vehicles present, two of which belonged to her parents and Shad’s.

As they exited the car and strolled toward the building, Shad found his attention drawn to the small cemetery maintained in a clearing behind the church. With its low tombstones it was easily overlooked, but the wood fence surrounding the graveyard had been repainted in the last few days so it was a more gleaming white than usual. The cemetery was a topic of current debate among the members of the congregation.

Dulsie smiled as she shook her head. “They just had to go and get uppity.”

“The fence?” Shad turned his attention toward her. “Roscoe and his people used their own time and money to paint it. No reason for the rest of us to stand in the way.”

Although their congregation had always been small, enough members had passed away in the last one hundred fifty years plus that people realized the cemetery at its current size could accommodate only a few more graves. One group wanted to begin felling trees to enlarge the graveyard, which would also mean dismantling and rebuilding part of the fence. The fence as a whole already needed a paint job, however, but it was a task the first group decided should wait until after clearing more land for the cemetery.

The second group didn’t want a larger cemetery. They believed it should be retired and when members passed away in the future they could be interred in any of the public graveyards in the area. So they believed the fence should be painted immediately.

Of course nobody received any divine revelation about the best way to handle this matter, and true to tradition the Osage Friends didn’t simply take a vote.

“Do you think they’re gonna hold their tongues when we start dismantling the fence this fall?” Dulsie’s brow furrowed slightly.

“They did what they want and we’ll do what we want,” Shad reminded her.

“Have they forgotten that people are just dying to get in there? Promise me you’ll see to it I get buried with my ancestors.”

“You forgot I’m the one who’s going first.”

“Let’s agree to go at the same time, and that way they can just stick us in the same box,” Dulsie said as they reached the two concrete steps that led to the door.

Shad realized her statement reminded him of one of the many attorney jokes he’d memorized, so as he opened the door for her Shad responded, “But then when the tombstone reads Here lies a lawyer and an honest person, there really will be two people in the grave.”

Dulsie laughed as she stepped through the doorway.

Her laughter announced their entrance. There were roughly four clustered groups of people scattered around the large but plain room. The walls were also painted white, and except for the windows, a door on the back wall, and in one corner a bulletin board pinned with a few postings, remained unadorned. The hardwood floor was the naturally buff color of well-worn oak, and the forty seats were a mix of antique wooden folding chairs and modern steel folding chairs arranged in a circle around the room.

Several people glanced toward their direction and smiled, some nodding their heads in greeting. Shad’s and Dulsie’s parents were in a smaller group at the other end of the room, and their mothers waved but their fathers seemed too engaged in conversation with a third person to have noticed the couple’s arrival.

Dulsie seemed to chatter in endless greetings to people they passed as they walked toward their parents. Shad mostly nodded. When they reached the moms, who were standing beside each other, Shad habitually stepped out of Jill’s line of sight to stand on the other side of Mam. Jill as always ignored him while she started talking to Dulsie.

Mam smiled at Shad, exchanged a “Good morning” with Dulsie, and redirected her attention to him. Shad glanced over at Pap and Karl, who were still occupied with their conversation. Karl, as usual, was doing most of the talking, but all three men were smiling and laughing.

At five-foot-four Karl Wekenheiser was three inches shorter than his wife Jill. Although he was a bit stocky in build compared to Dulsie’s petite frame, they had the same large, dark blue eyes and sandy brown hair. Dulsie’s hair was thick and wavy like her mother’s, while Karl’s hair was straighter and short cropped. Even in his sixties he still had no gray in it, and most people would have guessed that Karl was in his forties. He claimed that the older he got, the younger he looked. Karl was wearing his “Sunday best” – clean blue jeans and a pressed, short-sleeved, button down shirt that was white with thin blue stripes.

“Ken’s got a clear path,” Shad murmured to Mam about the third fellow in the group, a middle-aged cattleman. “Why doesn’t he make a break for it?”

Mam chuckled. “He’s probably too confused by now to know which direction to run.”

Mam was an attractive woman. Her once light brown hair was now well streaked with gray and today was pinned in a braided bun. She and her sister Jill had the same green eyes, fairly tall height and slender build. True to her family’s tradition Mam wore a simple skirt and blouse to First Day meeting, and every day wore no jewelry other than her wedding band.

Dulsie looked past her mom toward the men. “What are those guys carrying on about, anyway?”

There was slyness to Jill’s smile that reminded Shad of Dulsie. “Things that go bump in the night.”

Jill appeared to be taller than she really was, and not just when she stood next to Karl. She carried herself with a dignity that prevailed through any emotion. Her brown hair was also streaked with gray and combed into a flattering upsweep. Jill was often immaculately groomed and well dressed, but she also wasn’t afraid to get dirt under her fingernails. The lavender dress she wore was simple but also complimentary. Jill also actually wore a little makeup, just enough to accentuate her already natural beauty.

Pap happened to glance toward their direction and seemed a little startled to see Shad and Dulsie. He stepped away from Karl and Ken and gave Shad a pat on the back.

“Mornin’.” He grinned at Dulsie before looking at Shad. “You two sleep in today?”

“Dulsie was putting finishing touches on a squash casserole.” Shad leaned toward Pap and lowered his voice slightly. “Are you tired of squash yet?”

Pap’s grin broadened. “Love the stuff.” He fixed his gaze on Shad. “And so do you.”

Pap had all the characteristics of a Delaney except for his lack of brawniness; his lighter build was inherited from his mother. But at six-foot-four Pap still carried the Delaney height. At sixty-five his once dark hair had lightened considerably and thinned just enough in the back to make Pap admit he was bald, while his beard was completely gray and trimmed neatly along his jaw. His brown eyes often sparkled with a mischievousness that probably explained why Pap got along so well with his brother-in-law Karl. He also wore blue jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, which was light blue.

Shad glanced over at Dulsie, who had watched their exchange. “Don’t you ever get tired of being right all the time?”

Dulsie laughed, and this time Karl heard her. He muttered something to Ken about “They’re here,” and turned toward the rest of the family.

“There’s the experts.” Karl raised his hands in the air as though surrendering to the group. “Tell me, Dulsie, Shad, what would Sadie do if an armadillo came into the yard?”

Dulsie frowned slightly. “Armadillo?”

“Your dad got a surprise when he went out to check on the turkeys last night.” Jill’s smile became amused again. “Of course he wasn’t really using the flashlight he took out with him.”

“Don’t blame me.” Karl folded his arms over his chest. “You’re the one always telling me not to waste the batteries.”

Jill shook her head and continued. “So as he was taking his memorized path down to the barns, he found an armadillo.” She looked directly at Karl. “By stepping on its tail.”

Karl’s eyes widened. “Do you know how high those things can jump?” He threw his arms back into the air. “Almost as high as I can jump!”

Dulsie chuckled with the rest of the family. “What were you so spooked about? The armadillo’s the one who got stepped on.”

“For all I knew it was gonna turn in midair and fly toward my jugular – or somewhere worse!”

“So you were wanting a big white dog for protection about then?”

“I wanted a crucifix and a silver bullet about then. But what would Sadie do with an armadillo? It’s not a predator unless you’re a bug. Would she just bark at it or try to make it into armadillo burger?”

Dulsie thoughtfully rubbed on her chin. “Hmm. Interesting question. I can tell you this for sure.” She grinned at her dad. “She’d have sense enough not to step on its tail.”

A geriatric gentleman who was one of the church elders walked to the center of the chairs and spread his arms apart as he glanced around at the scattered groups.

“Friends.” His tone was warm and solemn.

That single word was all he needed to say. The talking throughout the room quickly subsided as some of the members took their seats and a couple of adults led about half a dozen kids through the door on the back wall. It led into a smaller room that was also used as an office. As Shad approached the chairs the entire family sat in a predictable order. Dulsie took a chair to one side of him, and today it was Pap instead of Mam who sat on Shad’s other side. Karl took the chair on Dulsie’s other side and Jill sat next to her husband. It was the farthest she could sit from Shad while remaining with her family.

One of the changes initiated by the Osage Friends was they now began each meeting with about thirty minutes of discussion on a scriptural passage. Karl was usually very active in these examinations, sometimes earning a dig in the ribs from Jill’s elbow. The congregation had long ago surmised that Karl’s decision to become “convinced” as a Friend after he left the Catholic Church had more to do with Jill than with God. Only immediate family members knew the real reasons why Karl had left his church of origin in the first place.

After the discussion the children and their keepers returned to the main room, and everybody settled into worship for around an hour. This was when silence reigned, to be broken only when someone was inspired to reveal the word of God. This belief of the Society of Friends that what they spoke and wrote was as true a declaration as any part of scripture was part of what led to their persecution hundreds of years ago. Even the founder, George Fox, wound up in jail a few times for his beliefs. But there was also much about this faith that people found appealing, causing it to once be the third largest religious group in the colonies before the American Revolution began.

The original congregation that settled here less than a decade before the Civil War broke out were adherents to the teachings of Elias Hicks, a man whom many people claimed had strayed from orthodox Quakerism. His ideas were popular enough to become fairly widespread, especially among rural folk. No sooner did the congregation get established in their new location than Quaid Delaney made his appearance.

And he’d made quite an entrance. One October morning three Friends who were traveling together found an unknown man lying in the middle of the road. His spent horse was standing, barely, nearby, and Quaid had been shot five times. They hauled him to the nearest house and brought in a doctor, who dug out three bullets that were still lodged in his flesh. Next the congregation held a meeting in order to decide what to do with the stranger.

There was not a line of volunteers eager to keep Quaid while he either recuperated or expired. They suspected he was a man of violence, and the people who shot him up might come looking to finish the job without regard to anyone they thought was in their way.

But Grace Riggs offered to take him in. She was a widow whose husband had died of lockjaw while Grace was still pregnant with their daughter, who upon Quaid’s arrival was less than three years old. And because Grace had a problem, her charity was not altruistic. Her late husband’s family never liked that he became a Friend, and his brother claimed the man had borrowed money from him. In his effort to obtain repayment of a loan Grace was certain never happened, the brother-in-law was in the process of taking her farm away. Grace hoped that keeping a convalescent in her home would buy her some time, especially with winter coming on.

The brother-in-law remained obstinate. But luckily for Grace the burly Irishman under her roof decided to come to her aid. Quaid, it turned out, was a riverboat gambler and a conman’s conman. His victims were other miscreants whom Quaid felt obliged to relieve of their ill-gotten booty as he traveled up and down the Mississippi and Missouri rivers. His current predicament was the result of his latest scam not going entirely the way he’d planned, especially the part about getting shot.

Grace figured out that Quaid’s apparent hedonism had roots in more noble sentiments. He was mad at God for allowing his mother and siblings to die of starvation in Ireland. He was mad at his father for abandoning them. And Quaid was mad at himself because he questioned his decision to come over to this country when he was only thirteen in order to earn money that would bring the rest of his family out of Ireland. But the person to whom Quaid entrusted the money had instead taken off with it.

So Grace’s brother-in-law fit right into Quaid Delaney’s grudge.

For years afterward people in the community would theorize what it was Quaid did that made the brother-in-law pack up and leave town. What made their tongues wag faster, however, was the news Quaid and Grace were going to marry immediately. After all, why else would Grace burden herself with the whiskey-drinking, gun-toting, smoking and gambling Irishman? Some gossip mongers were no doubt disappointed when their first child was born more than a year after the wedding.

Quaid, who was neither a drunkard nor an addict, had given up gambling and used his gun only for hunting and dispatching varmints ... except for that one time during the war he had to take out some two-legged varmints, as his descendants liked to refer to the incident. He embraced his second chance to take care of a family, and although many in the community considered Quaid to be quarrelsome, he had one trait nobody could fault him on and it undoubtedly helped the Friends congregation tolerate him better. Quaid was a very generous man.

Pap’s Grandpa Ward confirmed to him that the rumors were true about Quaid having amassed a small fortune during his riverboat days. Quaid’s own family never directly benefited from the defiled money – Grace wouldn’t allow it – but he was quick to help anyone, known or stranger, who was in need. And Quaid was especially fond of giving support to widows and orphans.

Four generations later when a woman from the respectable Leeds family married a man from the suspect Delaney clan, the old people who remembered childhood stories told to them about the exploits of Margaret and Quaid jested it could only signify a beginning and an end to both ancestral legacies. Shad wasn’t entirely sure what that was supposed to mean, but he did know the first born child of that union was instrumental in changing his life completely. Had Erin not intervened in her unique, divinely inspired fashion, Shad was certain that if he survived childhood he would have become someone horrifying as an adult.

And that reminded Shad he still had to do something about Wally.

Shad’s gaze slid to Karl, who was sitting with a slouch that kept him propped in his chair while his arms were folded over his chest. Karl’s head was tilted back, eyes closed. The man was known to sometimes start softly snoring during a meeting, earning him another dig in the ribs from Jill’s elbow. Otherwise quite vocal, Karl was one of the few, including Shad, who was never moved to speak in these meetings. Of course, Karl liked to remind people that everybody knew how folks who claimed God talked to them had to be schizophrenic.

When Jill first started to murmur that Shad wasn’t “good enough” for Dulsie, the family was a bit baffled by her conclusion. After all, Jill herself had married Karl, who was another upright individual who unfortunately came from an unsavory past. Jill pointed out they knew what Karl’s past was, but why did Shad remain so tight-lipped about his own history? What was he hiding?

Shad suspected that Jill’s maternal instinct, which was said to run strong in her family, had tapped into that threat which once lingered in his psyche. It made sense to Shad, except there was one thing about her intuition he couldn’t understand. Jill didn’t seem to sense this threat until after it had left him.

Now why was that?