silence. Neither Porter nor Susan seemed inclined to say more. Within twenty minutes we pulled up to a meadow just outside of Owenton, where an all too-familiar blue and white marquee-style tent was pitched. In a way I was amazed that the tent was still recognizable as blue and white. It had been patched so many times, in so many other colors, with whatever we had handy when the Fall came around. I could vividly remember spreading the tent out in our backyard, helping Susan and her mother patch another summer’s wear.
A light blue church van was parked in front of the tent. Years before, someone had hand painted “The First Free Pristine Church of God’s Unbridled Holiness” on the sides in black house paint. Impressively, most of it was still there. Behind the tent was parked their geriatric RV. The church bought it the year I was ten, and it hadn’t been
anything
like new then. Miraculous, really, that it was still running. Everything seemed normal at first glance.
I pulled my car to a stop next to the church van and waited for my passengers to get out. I didn’t shut down the motor. Susan gave me weak smile, and exited hastily. My father leaned the front seat forward and exited slowly. A crowd instantly came to greet him from in and around the tent. The crowd seemed unusually large, but I could not tell for sure from where I sat. Porter scooted over into the seat my father had occupied, only to find himself unable to get out of the car.
After a minute of silence, Porter cleared his throat. “Though you are not dressed appropriately, you should come greet everyone. Wonderful things have been happening with the Elder’s ministry. You should at least see what they are.”
It was the most he’d said to me since the police station the day before. I could not formulate an answer before my door was opened and I was swallowed in a familiar hug.
Jody Kline hugged me hard. “Sweetie, it’s so good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too,” I said, half returning her hug, as I glanced over to see if the crowd around my father was dissipating. It wasn’t. Porter was still stuck in the back seat.
“You must come see. Porter has brought so many people to the ministry with him. We have so many wonderful things happening. You’ll be so proud of your father,” said Jody, trying to draw me out of the car. When I didn’t budge she gave me a look of hurt and confusion.
“I have to get back home. I don’t have time to stop,” I said to her.
I could see that I had injured her. And I did feel bad about it. But not bad enough to get out of my car. I clung to the steering wheel as if it were a lifeline. It brought me no pleasure to hurt Jody. She’d been the closest thing I’d ever had to a mother. When her husband died, there had been speculation that she would be the perfect wife for my father. Nothing had ever came of the talk. I had often wondered why. Did she not want to be my father’s wife? Did my father not want another wife? Neither of them ever gave me any clue.
“It wouldn’t take ten minutes to look around,” said Jody.
“I agree. It would please us all very much if you would at least look around a bit,” said Porter as he put an oddly possessive hand on my shoulder.
“That won’t be possible,” I said.
Jody nodded. She knew me well enough to recognize the tone in my voice that indicated I wouldn’t be changing my mind. Slowly, she backed away from the car, leaving me room to close the driver’s side door with what I felt was a firm, but not defiant slam. Porter did not remove his hand from my shoulder as the crowd around my father moved away from the car and toward the tent.
“You are very attractive, but you would be rendered beautiful were you in possession of a contrite heart, and a lowly spirit.”
“Time for me to go,” I said with a look that I hoped said I would drag him from the car and leave him in a heap if I had to.
Porter nodded. “I’ll pray for you, Keziah,” he
A light blue church van was parked in front of the tent. Years before, someone had hand painted “The First Free Pristine Church of God’s Unbridled Holiness” on the sides in black house paint. Impressively, most of it was still there. Behind the tent was parked their geriatric RV. The church bought it the year I was ten, and it hadn’t been
anything
like new then. Miraculous, really, that it was still running. Everything seemed normal at first glance.
I pulled my car to a stop next to the church van and waited for my passengers to get out. I didn’t shut down the motor. Susan gave me weak smile, and exited hastily. My father leaned the front seat forward and exited slowly. A crowd instantly came to greet him from in and around the tent. The crowd seemed unusually large, but I could not tell for sure from where I sat. Porter scooted over into the seat my father had occupied, only to find himself unable to get out of the car.
After a minute of silence, Porter cleared his throat. “Though you are not dressed appropriately, you should come greet everyone. Wonderful things have been happening with the Elder’s ministry. You should at least see what they are.”
It was the most he’d said to me since the police station the day before. I could not formulate an answer before my door was opened and I was swallowed in a familiar hug.
Jody Kline hugged me hard. “Sweetie, it’s so good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you too,” I said, half returning her hug, as I glanced over to see if the crowd around my father was dissipating. It wasn’t. Porter was still stuck in the back seat.
“You must come see. Porter has brought so many people to the ministry with him. We have so many wonderful things happening. You’ll be so proud of your father,” said Jody, trying to draw me out of the car. When I didn’t budge she gave me a look of hurt and confusion.
“I have to get back home. I don’t have time to stop,” I said to her.
I could see that I had injured her. And I did feel bad about it. But not bad enough to get out of my car. I clung to the steering wheel as if it were a lifeline. It brought me no pleasure to hurt Jody. She’d been the closest thing I’d ever had to a mother. When her husband died, there had been speculation that she would be the perfect wife for my father. Nothing had ever came of the talk. I had often wondered why. Did she not want to be my father’s wife? Did my father not want another wife? Neither of them ever gave me any clue.
“It wouldn’t take ten minutes to look around,” said Jody.
“I agree. It would please us all very much if you would at least look around a bit,” said Porter as he put an oddly possessive hand on my shoulder.
“That won’t be possible,” I said.
Jody nodded. She knew me well enough to recognize the tone in my voice that indicated I wouldn’t be changing my mind. Slowly, she backed away from the car, leaving me room to close the driver’s side door with what I felt was a firm, but not defiant slam. Porter did not remove his hand from my shoulder as the crowd around my father moved away from the car and toward the tent.
“You are very attractive, but you would be rendered beautiful were you in possession of a contrite heart, and a lowly spirit.”
“Time for me to go,” I said with a look that I hoped said I would drag him from the car and leave him in a heap if I had to.
Porter nodded. “I’ll pray for you, Keziah,” he
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