Authors: Margaret A. Graham
Mercy Me (11 page)
Before she scored a point, I whipped out my secret weapon, the sword of the Spirit. “Mabel, âDo unto others
as you would have them do unto you.' With all due respect, you have not understood one word I have said here. Much as you and I might like the âHallelujah Chorus,' young people don't cotton to that kind of singing; it is not in their language, so to speak. We have been sitting here listening to reports from missionaries in foreign countries. Every one of them missionaries had to learn the language of the people they were sent to win. You should be thankful that you don't have to learn Chinese or this language that's foreign to us, this youth music. We all should shut up and be happy the young people are making music to Jesus. We don't have to like it. I, for one, will not split the church over it.”
Just as Clara started clapping, from across the hall came a loud and long drumroll! I wondered if those kids heard my speech and liked it.
Well, that night the women filed outside without asking one question. But Clara hugged me and Thelma murmured, “Thank you, Esmeralda.”
When I started out, I didn't know I would win, but I had won hands down! The W.W.s are good Christian women, and once they face the truth, they do what's right. Oh, we have flare-ups now and then, but there's enough of them on the side of the truth to prevent any big eruption.
Boris was safe. Thank the Lord.
As I was coming in the back door of my house, I could hear the phone ringing. It was Beatrice. I had plum forgot about her.
“What is it, Beatrice?”
“It's that man.”
“What man?”
“Carl, the one with the pigtail.”
“Oh?”
“Esmeralda, he come right out and asked me to go bowling with him. Of course, I flat out refused, but I'm afraid he'll keep pestering me, driving me up the wall.”
“He might,” I said. “Of course, you need to know more about him. Is he married?”
“No. He don't wear a wedding ring.”
“Beatrice, that don't tell you a thing! A man can slip off a wedding ring and not put it back on until he's home again.”
“Well, I don't know how to find out if he's married or not, but I tell you frankly, I don't care. I just want him to leave me alone.”
“I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give it some thought and write you a long letter. I'm too tired tonight, but maybe after I get my work done tomorrow, I can sit down andâ”
“You needn't to bother. I am not going out with him. Can't you just see me making a fool of myself trying to bowl?”
Yes, I could see thatâher throwing the ball and sliding down the alley after it on her backside.
“I told him I couldn't lift one of those bowling balls, and he said we'd use duckpins. What are duckpins?”
“They're smaller balls. You can lift them. Now, Beatrice, don't be too hasty. Remember I told you I've been praying the Lord would bring someone across your path who would be a friend. Let's find out more about Carl before we make up our minds about him.”
I don't think she heard me. “One other thing, Esmeralda. Jim and Sadie brought the plate back and said they liked the pie. They didn't sit down because they were going out to eat. They asked me if I would like to go with them, but I said no, because I already had my meal fixed.”
“Well, now, Beatrice. That wasn't so bad after all, was it?”
“No, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. Maybe I'll find the energy to make another pie and take it up to them.”
“You do that, Beatrice. I need to go to bed. It's been a busy day.”
“Okay,” she said, and we hung up.
I helped myself to a bowl of butter-pecan ice cream and took it out on the porch to get cooled off before going to bed. What a day it had been! I knew I couldn't stand many more like it.
I had lost interest in the streetwalker, but I did look to see if she was down there. She wasn't.
With the ice cream taken care of, I went inside and got ready for bed. Before turning out the light, I looked down at the streetlight again. The woman still had not shown up.
I slept pretty well, but I got up a couple of times in the night to go to the bathroom. Every time I got up, I checked the streetlight. The woman didn't show up all night long.
Maybe she's found another territory,
I thought.
12
All the next day, I thought about what I should write to Beatrice. When I had it all thought out, I sat down and did it. Here's what I wrote.
Beatrice, about that fellow Carl, forget about the pigtail for a minute. That can wait. What you need to know right up front is: Is this man a Christian? No need to ask him because whether or not he is he will say he is and you won't know anything more than you knew before. The only safe way to find out is to watch the way he lives. Check out his language. “Holy hearts make holy tongues,” Splurgeon says. If he can't say nothing good about other people his heart is not right. Does any corrupt communication come out of his mouth like off-color remarks or swear words? If so, drop him like a hot potato.
If he passes those tests, the next thing is: Is he honest? It won't do to just ask him what he would do if he found a wallet with a lot of money in it. To impress you, a liar would give the right answer. You have got to blindside him.
I scratched that last sentence; Beatrice wouldn't know what it meant.
Get him talking about high taxes and ask him what's the best way to get around paying them. Most men can give you a list of smart ways to cheat the government. If he gives a straight answer, something like, “I wouldn't know about that,” he is one in a million. Men can't stand admitting they don't know something.
If you determine that he is a Christian, the next thing may not be necessary but with things the way they are nowadays it won't hurt to check it out. You want to make sure he is not a married man. As I told you on the phone, not wearing a wedding ring is no proof whatsoever a man is not married.
The way to tell if a man is married is easy. If he has a decent haircut chances are a wife is back of it. Since Carl has that pigtail you might consider it a pretty good sign he is not married.
If a man is heavy into aftershave and wears a lot of jewelry, he is a man on the prowl, single or married.
A married man is not available at all times. If he has to pick and choose when he can see you it's because he has to find a time when his wife is too busy to noticeâshe's out of town, at a meeting, or in the hospital. A married man has to touch base at home whenever his wife expects him to so he can't always plan ahead. If he can't stay long, chances are she's on to him and he's afraid she'll catch him.
If he won't take you to public places where he is likely to be seen with you or if he never introduces you to anybody he knows, he is a married man.
A married man does not have sense enough to play hard to get. That's because he is more interested in getting you than in you getting him. He will brag about what he's got, where he's been, and the big plans he has for making his next million. As Splurgeon says, “He that is full of himself is very empty.” Such a man will do all the talking to keep you from asking questions. If you do get a word in and ask if he is married, he will lie flat out or tell you some sad story about how his wife left him for his best friend and broke his heart. Don't believe a word of it.
She's probably at home with his kids trying to pay all the bills he has run up.
Another thing. If Carl is in the termite business, don't expect him to have a lot of money to spend. If he does throw money around, look out, he has got something
on the side. No telling what, gambling maybe. Or he is head over heels in debt.
Find out if he has a neat little lunch in a lunch pail. If he does, he lives with his mama. He is not the marrying kind. Of course, marrying is not something you have in mind either, just friendship, right?
Now to help you get started, since you don't cotton to bowling, next time he asks, turn the tables on him. Invite him to go to church with you. If he is quick to accept and don't ask what church you're going to before he agrees to go, that tells you he is not one of them narrow-minded “we the only church has got the truth” kind of believers. You will feel safe with him in church and besides it will give the women something to talk about. Ha! Ha!
I read that letter over three times before I mailed it.
Over a week went by, and I had not heard a word from Beatrice. I tell you, curiosity was about to kill this cat!
And every night I looked for that prostitute to show up, but she never did. I figured Horace got word to her somehow about my corner being watched and she had staked out a place in another part of town.
I thought a lot about that woman, and I prayed for her, but I just didn't understand why she sold her body when she could be working at an honest job. Standing on a street corner in all kinds of weather, begging men to have
their way, well, to me, that would be hell on earth. Not to mention the fact that such a life was sure to lead to hell below. I knew some hookers made good money, but I'd beg before I'd do that.
Another week went by. The only important thing I got done took a giant step of faith. I saw in the want ads that somebody was selling a used tiller. I prayed about it, and since I hadn't been able to find one before, I figured this must be it.
That tiller looked brand new. I couldn't find one thing wrong with it. When I asked the owner why she was selling it, she said her husband had died and she couldn't handle it no more. I was satisfied the tiller was a good buy, so I paid down on it. The woman said she'd keep it in her garage and give me thirty days to come up with the rest of the money. Well, I'd have to ask the Lord for that.
Paying for the tiller was the easy part; finding some kind of vehicle to haul it in was the hard thing. If worse came to worse, poor Elijah would have to make a wagon he could pull himself. I hated to think we might come to that.
The rest of the week all I did was stake tomatoes, wash the car, scrub the front porch, and cut the grass. Oh yes, I peeled and canned a bushel of peaches, made a couple of jars of peach pickle, and took some to Mrs. Purdy.
Little did I know the Lord was giving me a week's rest for what lay ahead. If I had known before what the Lord had in mind for me to do, I might've gone AWOL.
13
At the crack of dawn, somebody was knocking on my back door. I opened it, and there stood Elijah!
“Elijah! What in the world? Come inside, come in here.”
He took off his cap and came in the kitchen.
“You walk all the way up here, or did somebody bring you?”
“No'm, I walked.”
I poured him a cup of coffee and put in some sugar and milk. He liked plenty of sugar and milk. “I'll fix you some breakfast.”
“No'm. We ain't got time for that.”
I was holding the frying pan in my hand and looking at him, waiting for him to tell me what was up. “What's the matter, Elijah?”
“Missy, there's something you got to help me with.”
He didn't touch the coffee.
“What is it?”
“You'll see. We got to go now.”
I put the frying pan away, took off my apron, and got my keys. “Where we going?”
“To my place.”
We got in the Chevy. I cranked her up, and we rolled down the driveway. I knew this was some kind of emergency, but when Elijah said, “We got to hurry,” I got downright alarmed. It had never been his nature to hurry. Had his house caught on fire? Was one of those children plays around his place hurt?
At that early hour, there was nobody much on the road. Although I am not one to break the speed limit, I broke it that morning. There is a straightaway beyond town, and I gunned itâthat Chevy was wide open. Elijah propped both his hands on the dash, bracing for the curve up ahead. As we rounded the bend, tires squealing, Elijah said, “Slow down.” I thought he was just scared, but as we approached what looked to be somebody's lane, he said, “See that road up a ways? Turn in there.”