paused.
“Except for Luke. It’s not like he has any ties to Maggody.” She looked at Bopeep. “Unless, of course, you two are aiming to tie the knot sometime in the future. I mean, this could be the guy for you. I never meant to imply that y’all are…”
“Living in sin? No, we’re just living in a double-wide for the time being.” Bopeep popped her gum to express her disdain. “I couldn’t care less if he gets a load of buckshot in his backside or strung up from a sycamore tree. Besides, he doesn’t have a car. No way he could take off with the boat.”
“So you think he might take off?” asked Joyce.
“Probably afore too long. He’s waiting for a disability check from the army. Something about a foot injury, but he moves real fine. It’s not like I’d bring home a cripple.”
This prompted Crystal to talk about her bigamist cousin, which led to Cora’s demented grandmother, which was drowned out by Lucille’s complaints about her years of slavery when Big Dick’s mother was alive. The stories grew downright gruesome as the pitcher of iced tea and plates of brownies were passed from martyr to martyr.
Mrs. Jim Bob came to a decision, although she wasn’t sure how it would be received. She tapped a teaspoon on the sugar bowl.
“We all agree that this ten-against-one is unfair. We have to take action. I propose that we sign a paper that says if any one of us wins the boat, then she’ll donate it to the town to pay for a park. We can build it next to the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall, with swings and sand boxes and picnic tables. A memorial park, I think, dedicated to deceased golf widows. The donor can have her own name on a brass plaque.”
Eyes flickered and lower lips were nibbled as they pondered her words. Finally, Eileen said, “I was thinking of selling the boat and using the money for myself.”
“The Almighty Lord does not look kindly on displays of greed and self-indulgence,” Mrs. Jim Bob countered coldly. “He blesses gestures of Christian generosity and humility. Besides, you get your name on the plaque. Your grandchildren and their grandchildren will have a reminder of your contribution to the community.”
“Do we have to donate all of it?” asked Crystal, who had already talked to a used car salesman in Starley City.
“How about ten percent?” Millicent suggested. “That’s what the Bible says to tithe.”
Brother Verber, who’d materialized toward the end of the lesson, perked up at the mention of the Assembly Hall. He swallowed a mouthful of brownie and said, “The fourteenth chapter of Deuteronomy instructs us to tithe corn, wine, oil, and firstlings of your herds and of your flocks. With inflation shooting up these days, it’d come to at least twenty percent, or even twenty-five.”
Mrs. Jim Bob knew she was on thin ice. “I’ll amend my proposal to fifty percent. Think of the shame of having your name on a park with cheap swing sets and rickety picnic tables. You’d be embarrassed to hold up your head when you drove by it. Why, you might even be sued if some poor child got hurt. As for the chances of eternal damnation… I shudder to think about it.”
She faked a small shudder. “Do I hear a second on the proposal?”
“Second,” Joyce said in a sulky voice.
“All in favor?”
No one dared vote against the proposal. Mrs. Jim Bob rewarded them with a tight smile. “I’ll write out our agreement and everybody can sign it before they leave.”
“And may the Almighty be watching over you,” Brother Verber said. “As we’re told in Psalm Seventy-two, verse seven, ‘In his days the righteous will flourish; prosperity will abound ’til the moon is no more.’ And if you Christian servants aren’t righteous, well, nobody is. Hallelujah!” He tried to look humble, but he couldn’t stop thinking how well his mail-order seminary had done by providing a verse for any situation. Marriages, funerals, confessions of the wickedest
“Except for Luke. It’s not like he has any ties to Maggody.” She looked at Bopeep. “Unless, of course, you two are aiming to tie the knot sometime in the future. I mean, this could be the guy for you. I never meant to imply that y’all are…”
“Living in sin? No, we’re just living in a double-wide for the time being.” Bopeep popped her gum to express her disdain. “I couldn’t care less if he gets a load of buckshot in his backside or strung up from a sycamore tree. Besides, he doesn’t have a car. No way he could take off with the boat.”
“So you think he might take off?” asked Joyce.
“Probably afore too long. He’s waiting for a disability check from the army. Something about a foot injury, but he moves real fine. It’s not like I’d bring home a cripple.”
This prompted Crystal to talk about her bigamist cousin, which led to Cora’s demented grandmother, which was drowned out by Lucille’s complaints about her years of slavery when Big Dick’s mother was alive. The stories grew downright gruesome as the pitcher of iced tea and plates of brownies were passed from martyr to martyr.
Mrs. Jim Bob came to a decision, although she wasn’t sure how it would be received. She tapped a teaspoon on the sugar bowl.
“We all agree that this ten-against-one is unfair. We have to take action. I propose that we sign a paper that says if any one of us wins the boat, then she’ll donate it to the town to pay for a park. We can build it next to the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall, with swings and sand boxes and picnic tables. A memorial park, I think, dedicated to deceased golf widows. The donor can have her own name on a brass plaque.”
Eyes flickered and lower lips were nibbled as they pondered her words. Finally, Eileen said, “I was thinking of selling the boat and using the money for myself.”
“The Almighty Lord does not look kindly on displays of greed and self-indulgence,” Mrs. Jim Bob countered coldly. “He blesses gestures of Christian generosity and humility. Besides, you get your name on the plaque. Your grandchildren and their grandchildren will have a reminder of your contribution to the community.”
“Do we have to donate all of it?” asked Crystal, who had already talked to a used car salesman in Starley City.
“How about ten percent?” Millicent suggested. “That’s what the Bible says to tithe.”
Brother Verber, who’d materialized toward the end of the lesson, perked up at the mention of the Assembly Hall. He swallowed a mouthful of brownie and said, “The fourteenth chapter of Deuteronomy instructs us to tithe corn, wine, oil, and firstlings of your herds and of your flocks. With inflation shooting up these days, it’d come to at least twenty percent, or even twenty-five.”
Mrs. Jim Bob knew she was on thin ice. “I’ll amend my proposal to fifty percent. Think of the shame of having your name on a park with cheap swing sets and rickety picnic tables. You’d be embarrassed to hold up your head when you drove by it. Why, you might even be sued if some poor child got hurt. As for the chances of eternal damnation… I shudder to think about it.”
She faked a small shudder. “Do I hear a second on the proposal?”
“Second,” Joyce said in a sulky voice.
“All in favor?”
No one dared vote against the proposal. Mrs. Jim Bob rewarded them with a tight smile. “I’ll write out our agreement and everybody can sign it before they leave.”
“And may the Almighty be watching over you,” Brother Verber said. “As we’re told in Psalm Seventy-two, verse seven, ‘In his days the righteous will flourish; prosperity will abound ’til the moon is no more.’ And if you Christian servants aren’t righteous, well, nobody is. Hallelujah!” He tried to look humble, but he couldn’t stop thinking how well his mail-order seminary had done by providing a verse for any situation. Marriages, funerals, confessions of the wickedest
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