cough, or a fever; Theo who taught her to tie her shoes; Theo who taught her to ride a bike; and Theo who did just about everything else a parent could and should and ought to want to do. This included taking her to visit her grandparents, which meant going to see the Cormiers, since his own parents were deceased by then. Adelaide was all too happy to stay behind in Bayou Cymbaline with her indoor toilet and her linoleum floors, comforts she’d never had on Bayou Deception Island. And she loved not having to cook dinner for her husband or having to mind her child.
Dancy didn’t miss Adelaide on those trips. By the time she was eight years old, she’d already decided that she would not be like her mother when she grew up. She wouldn’t ever yank on her daughter’s arm, or call her stupid, or take away her dinner as punishment.
All throughout her childhood, Dancy fantasized that Adelaide would run off for New York City. Then it would be just Dancy and her daddy, who never said he wished she was prettier and never called her disgusting. Never.
This dislike of her mother remained as Dancy grew up. She supposed she had some feeling for Adelaide, in a detached sort of way and only because of their blood tie. But that was all. Any hints of warmth or trust were missing from their relationship.
If you’d asked for advice on raising a daughter, Adelaide Roman’s response would have been to fall to your knees and pray for the strength to know the devil when you saw him. Although she’d never outright proclaimed that a demon had hold of Dancy, there’d been plenty of times when Adelaide had said, “Get thee behind me, Satan,” the minute the girl walked out of the room. As a congregant of the International Church of the Elevated Forthright Gospel, Adelaide Roman was an expert on Satan.
She’d had a reason for joining the Forthright, but that reason had nothing to do with God. It was a reason that had come to her at her place of employment. Adelaide worked at the Bayou Cymbaline Branch of the United States Post Office on Pepperdine Street in Bayou Cymbaline. It was there, in August of 1946, that a handsome stranger with the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen walked in to stand directly in front of her. The man introduced himself as Brother Harley John Eacomb and asked if he might post a notice on the corkboard that hung in the post office vestibule. Adelaide said she didn’t see why not.
The handsome stranger tipped his head in a graceful bow before going out the way he’d come in. When he was gone, Adelaide just about fell over herself getting out to the corkboard to see what he’d posted. She believed it was the first time in her life she actually felt blessed by God to be in the right place at the right time. The notice stated that a special Meeting of the Righteous was to be held down by the river the following Sunday at six in the evening. Presiding over the meeting would be Brother Harley John Eacomb, pastor of the International Church of the Elevated Forthright Gospel.
Adelaide spent all of Saturday getting herself ready. She bought a new dress, and shoes to go with it, and splurged on a white silk hat with peek-a-boo netting that came down over her eyes, and white gloves with a mother-of-pearl button at the wrist bone. Dancy was only sixteen at the time and not yet a cosmetologist, so Adelaide went to the beauty parlor for a professional wash and set, and had her nails painted in a color called Happy Heart Red.
When her husband asked her where she was going, she said, “Some of us care about the welfare of our eternal souls, Theo. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to church like I always do.”
“In the evening? And dressed like that? You don’t usually get so dolled up. I thought maybe you were headed for Bourbon Street,” he teased.
To which Adelaide insisted on knowing if she was entitled to look her best when she praised God Almighty or not.
The Meeting that night was still going on past
Dancy didn’t miss Adelaide on those trips. By the time she was eight years old, she’d already decided that she would not be like her mother when she grew up. She wouldn’t ever yank on her daughter’s arm, or call her stupid, or take away her dinner as punishment.
All throughout her childhood, Dancy fantasized that Adelaide would run off for New York City. Then it would be just Dancy and her daddy, who never said he wished she was prettier and never called her disgusting. Never.
This dislike of her mother remained as Dancy grew up. She supposed she had some feeling for Adelaide, in a detached sort of way and only because of their blood tie. But that was all. Any hints of warmth or trust were missing from their relationship.
If you’d asked for advice on raising a daughter, Adelaide Roman’s response would have been to fall to your knees and pray for the strength to know the devil when you saw him. Although she’d never outright proclaimed that a demon had hold of Dancy, there’d been plenty of times when Adelaide had said, “Get thee behind me, Satan,” the minute the girl walked out of the room. As a congregant of the International Church of the Elevated Forthright Gospel, Adelaide Roman was an expert on Satan.
She’d had a reason for joining the Forthright, but that reason had nothing to do with God. It was a reason that had come to her at her place of employment. Adelaide worked at the Bayou Cymbaline Branch of the United States Post Office on Pepperdine Street in Bayou Cymbaline. It was there, in August of 1946, that a handsome stranger with the most gorgeous blue eyes she’d ever seen walked in to stand directly in front of her. The man introduced himself as Brother Harley John Eacomb and asked if he might post a notice on the corkboard that hung in the post office vestibule. Adelaide said she didn’t see why not.
The handsome stranger tipped his head in a graceful bow before going out the way he’d come in. When he was gone, Adelaide just about fell over herself getting out to the corkboard to see what he’d posted. She believed it was the first time in her life she actually felt blessed by God to be in the right place at the right time. The notice stated that a special Meeting of the Righteous was to be held down by the river the following Sunday at six in the evening. Presiding over the meeting would be Brother Harley John Eacomb, pastor of the International Church of the Elevated Forthright Gospel.
Adelaide spent all of Saturday getting herself ready. She bought a new dress, and shoes to go with it, and splurged on a white silk hat with peek-a-boo netting that came down over her eyes, and white gloves with a mother-of-pearl button at the wrist bone. Dancy was only sixteen at the time and not yet a cosmetologist, so Adelaide went to the beauty parlor for a professional wash and set, and had her nails painted in a color called Happy Heart Red.
When her husband asked her where she was going, she said, “Some of us care about the welfare of our eternal souls, Theo. So if you don’t mind, I’m going to church like I always do.”
“In the evening? And dressed like that? You don’t usually get so dolled up. I thought maybe you were headed for Bourbon Street,” he teased.
To which Adelaide insisted on knowing if she was entitled to look her best when she praised God Almighty or not.
The Meeting that night was still going on past
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