“Oh well, ain’t no surprise there, on either account. She was always horrible ta Ray when he was alive. Never liked yer mom none either. Course, didn’t help that her late husband, Vern, would git tagether with yer mom from time ta time ’fore he died.”
“Oh.” The too-familiar shame in the mother-shaped hole in my chest flooded. I couldn’t help but feel a little less resentful of Iris at Maudra’s words. No wonder she didn’t like us.
Maudra continued, “Don’t judge her too harshly. She’s had a rough go of it, even more ’n Vern cheatin’ and dyin’ on her.” She looked over at me. “You ’member Jack and Dean, don’tcha? They was a few years younger ’n you.”
I thought for a second. “I don’t think so. I’m so bad with names, though. Maybe if I saw a picture.”
“Well, it don’t matter none anyway.” She sighed. “It’s jist horrible. I doubt I’d be able to manage as well as Iris if I’d been in the same situation. If I was a differ’nt person, I’d say she deserved what she got fer all the grief she caused Ray, but don’t nobody deserve what she been through.”
Jed looked at her, wide-eyed. “What happened?”
“Well, ’course you don’t know any a these people, Jed, but Brooke does, if he could get that brain ta remember.” She set her fork down, preparing for a longstory. “Vern died when Brooke was prob’ly twelve or thirteen. Don’t ’member at the moment what it was that killed ’im. Some sickness or other. Either way, left her with those two boys. The oldest, Jack, had ta be close ta Brooke’s age, and Dean was prob’ly six or so years younger ’n him.”
She took a drink, then continued. “Well, it was a couple years after you left, Brooke. Dean had ta have jist turned sixteen. He was always a sweet, sweet boy. I always suspected he’d turn out ta be gay too. He was always nice ta me. Now, Jack, on the other hand, was nothin’ but trouble. Couldn’t ask fer more differ’nt boys. Even so, they was best a friends, those two. Dean had tagged along after Jack since he could walk. Never figgered out how he spent so much time with that waste of a brother a his and still stayed so sweet.
“Anyway, one night, Jack, being the idiot he was, thought it’d be a good idea fer them to race their cars. Well, somehow during the race, little Dean got pretty far ahead a Jack. By the time Jack caught up with ’im, little Dean was pulled over on the side a the road, an’ a policeman, Rick Anderson from Black Jack, had ’im out and handcuffed. The boy was probably going close ta a hundred.
“Jack got scared when he saw Dean in cuffs. He rilly did love the boy, so I ’magine he felt guilty too. Didn’t want the boy ta get in trouble. Before little Dean even knew what was goin’ on, Jack had hit his gas, aimed his truck, and ran over poor Rick Anderson. Killed him instantly. They had ta have a closed casket, matter-a-fact.”
Jed and I had both quit eating and were staring at Maudra with open mouths.
“Long story short, it shook up the town, a’course. Jack went to the state pen, where he shoulda been yearsbefore. Iris was a wreck, as you kin imagine. So was Dean. Jack was probably only in jail a couple months before Dean hung hisself in Iris’s backyard one afternoon when he got home from school. Iris got home from workin’ at the flower shop and couldn’t find him inside. She figgered he was out with some friends. It wasn’t till the next mornin’ when she still couldn’t get ahold a ’im that she found his body a hanging in the backyard. Lord, she went crazy. As would any good mother.
“I heard later that Jack got killed in a jail fight. Iris said she figgered he heard about Dean and started somethin’ so he’d get killed and could join his brother. ’Course, I doubt they ended up in the same place, but who am I ta figure what God’ll do. I hope He showed ’em both mercy.”
We were silent as Maudra finished telling us about Iris’s lot. Any hard feelings I had for her had vanished. I wanted to rush to her and take her in my arms, as if that would have made anything better.
“Well.” Maudra stood and picked up our plates. “I made blackberry cobbler. ’Course, they aren’t in season, but I had some frozen ones. Won’t be quite as good, but still be better ’n any other blackberry cobbler you ever had. You want two er three scoops a ice cream on top?”
Twenty-Two
I hadtold Maudra I wanted to sleep in, that I didn’t feel up to getting ready for the church’s morning service, but promised we would go that evening. That was true, in part. I really didn’t want to face everyone in church with Jed for the first time all at once. I thought there would be fewer people at the evening service. Plus, we hadn’t had the house to ourselves since Wednesday. Jed had been excited to go, but when I reminded him no one would be in the house for a couple of hours, he quickly gave his support to my plan.
It had been a beautiful morning. We opened the curtains in our room. During the night, it had begun to snow; the storm seemed to only be getting stronger. Jed lived for Christmas, so he was immediately excited from the moment he looked out the window, instantly hoping we would have a white Christmas this year. Our little room was drafty and had gotten cold during the night. By the time we decided to get out of bed and get ready before Maudra came home for lunch, we were both breathing hard and covered in sweat, the windows streaked with dripping condensation.
I began to regret my decision as I tried to keep my eyes open during Pastor Thomas’s sermon that evening. We could have gone to the morning service and waited until this evening to have the house to ourselves. It would have been much more enjoyable to listen to Tyler teach than hear Pastor Thomas drone on and on. The weather had continued to worsen during the day. I’d forgotten how much harsher Midwest winterswere than those in the Rocky Mountains. The humidity made the cold biting and everything so much icier.
When the time arrived to go to the evening service, several feet of snow had fallen, and the roads were completely iced over. Maudra had called Donnie to come pick us up in his truck, so the four of us crammed into the front of his cab and held on as even his massive ton of steel slid over the roads. Donnie and Jed laughed and hollered the entire way, seemingly reverting back to childhood. Maudra and I were silent as we prayed to survive. I must admit she handled it more like a man than I did. There was more than one instance where I yelped and squealed with fright as the truck fishtailed around a corner. This always sent Jed and Donnie into hysterics. More than once, my terror prompted Donnie to steer into the curve and send the truck into complete circles. I had forgotten how much Donnie loved to drive in the snow. He would come get me before I was old enough to have a license and take me out four-wheeling in the snow. I was always surprised when he brought me back home alive. This evening was no different.
Due to the road conditions, we arrived at church about fifteen minutes late. Part of my plan was successful; most of the church was empty, as only the truly determined were willing to chance the storm. Even though we were late, Donnie made us traipse through the sanctuary to join Mandy in the second-to-front row.
We missed the singing, which was always my favorite part.
Pastor Thomas was speaking about how Christians of the world needed to be separate from the world—a theme I had heard him preach no less than thirty or forty times. Not to dress in the same fashion as the world. Not to listen to secular music. Pastor Thomas even preached against country music, which had always made several ofthe church people upset. Despite myself, I was somewhat impressed by his willingness to continue to give messages that were guaranteed to anger many of his parishioners.
Tonight he seemed to be more fixated on Christians challenging each other to live purer, more separate lives. Not to only focus on remaining different from the nonbelievers who didn’t go to church, but also separating ourselves from those within the church family who claimed to have a relationship with Christ but yet live their lives no differently than the rest of the secular world. Tonight he branched off onto topics varying from the dangers of allowing your children to own iPods and other personal devices that made it harder for a parent to monitor what they were listening to and watching, to the hazards of interracial dating and marriage. He said he didn’t feel like it was a sin as many preachers of the past had taught, but it was fraught with complications that would make it hard for a marriage to last. That it would rain down struggles for the children of such unions, truly belonging to neither race, and set them up to be victims and targets of racism and discrimination. No matter what his belief, I wondered why he would even bring it up. Over 95 percent of the three thousand people who lived in town were white. How was it an issue?
To be fair, it wasn’t his typical sermon, at least from what I remembered before I moved away. I wondered if he was feeling the pressure of turning his power over to Pastor Bron and was trying to fit in every warning and admonition he could before he stepped down. His sermon was disjointed and jumped from point to point with no cohesion.
More than once, Jed looked at me with wide eyes, unable to believe what he was hearing. I’d visited hischurch in Seattle when we went to see his family and was blown away by the difference. “Told you,” I mouthed.
I even noticed Donnie and Mandy give each other odd glances from time to time. Apparently, this sermon was different than even the ones he had been giving lately. Occasionally, I would hear Maudra click her tongue or whisper a “Well, for Pete’s sake,” under her breath.
After what seemed like hours later, I realized I had stopped listening long ago. I was lost in thoughts of what to do with Mom on Christmas when I realized Pastor Bron now stood in front of the church and was speaking. Jed elbowed me in the arm. “He’s beautiful!”
“I told you.”
“He’s Mandy’s dad?”
