Darkfall
Part Seven
"The lord will destroy the house of the proud. The thoughts of the wicked are an abomination to the lord." The words rang harsh and clear through the small room. "Poverty and shame shall be to him that refuseth instruction. Even in laughter the heart is sorrowful."
Wesley sat in the front row, his bible held tightly in his hands, turned to Proverbs Chapters 14 and 15. He saw that Father read only the bad parts. He didn't read the other parts of any of the proverbs, the happy good parts. Father's god wanted them all to be sad and miserable, it seemed to Wes. He decided that the other parts were happier. Wes decided to sit very quietly and think about just the parts that made him feel good inside. "A soft answer turneth away wrath, the prayer of the upright is his delight."
Father's voice boomed again, "A wise son maketh a glad father; but a foolish man despiseth his mother." Wes thought about his mother, the mother he'd never known. The only time Father had ever mentioned her, he had said simply that she was unworthy and was shunned. Wes didn't know what that meant exactly, but it sounded bad. He had heard Father in the parlor one night, talking real loud and calling Mother a hor. Was he supposed to hate his mother? He didn't ! Sometimes, he missed her so much, it hurt. He didn't care what she was if she'd just come home.
Over the years, ever since that first time he had held a new crayon in his hand, Wes had drawn... anything and everything. He had no drawing pencils, no charcoals, no sketch pads. He used fat school pencils and then #2s. He saved all his schoolwork so he could draw on the backs of the papers. Mrs. Harris saved all the bits and pieces of crayons and chalks for him. He didn't know why, but he could capture a smile, a look, a wisp of feeling with his pencil. He had never seen his mother, so he drew angels; angels holding the hands of small children.
Mercy had told Wes as much as she could remember; that their mother had been beautiful and had sung to her every night. Mercy could sing a few of the words and Wes had begged her over and over to sing them for him:
"Baby's boat's a silver moon sailing in the sky.
Hmm Hmm Hmmm and the clouds go by.
Please baby, don't forget to sail back to me."
Wes clung to those words, wishing his mother was here today to hold him and sing to him.
He jerked back from his daydream to hear Father saying the words that always finished his sermons:
"'Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. Let my words follow you. If you wish to avoid destruction in your lives, be of proud heart. Do not let the evilness of the world creep into your hearts. Our god will punish you. Do not fall."
Even at eight years old, Wes knew that Father sometimes made no sense. Didn't he just say that his god would destroy proud people's houses and then to have proud hearts?? Somehow, Wes knew that this was not his God, his comfy God with the warm light who always held his hand in the dark of the big hole. He looked around quickly at the faces in the seats to his right. No one really seemed to be listening, just nodding and muttering 'Amen'. Was he the only one who didn't believe Father?
Wes felt Mercy nudge him and together they stood up and waited for Father to walk down the aisle and out the front door. Karl Jr. wasn't here again today. Wes sighed, knowing what was coming and wishing that Karl would just sit here and let the words drift over his body like he and Mercy did. It was a lot easier that way.
The saddest thing was that Karl was, in his own way, just as harsh and restrictive as Father and, as the years went by, just as mean. Mercy said she could remember way back when Karl Jr. had been nice, but that was when Mother had still been there. Wesley had never seen his brother being nice. It made him sad.
Wesley knew that the Hewetts went to church at the big Presbyterian Church over in Franklin. Every Sunday, Cole said, they got all dressed up, went to Sunday school and church and then their daddy took them out to eat at the steakhouse. Cole would tell Wes all about the deserts and he even brought Wesley M&Ms and sprinkles in a little plastic cup.
Wesley never asked Cole or Callie about church. He worried that they would want to come visit him at his and Wesley never wanted them to meet Father. He never wanted his Cole or his Callie to ever hear Father or see him. He was afraid Father would not allow him to be their friend. Father would say they were proud because they lived in a nice house and had nice stuff. Wesley's chest hurt just thinking about Father and Cole in the same thought. It was like talking about good and evil in the same breath.
Wesley sat in the front row, his bible held tightly in his hands, turned to Proverbs Chapters 14 and 15. He saw that Father read only the bad parts. He didn't read the other parts of any of the proverbs, the happy good parts. Father's god wanted them all to be sad and miserable, it seemed to Wes. He decided that the other parts were happier. Wes decided to sit very quietly and think about just the parts that made him feel good inside. "A soft answer turneth away wrath, the prayer of the upright is his delight."
Father's voice boomed again, "A wise son maketh a glad father; but a foolish man despiseth his mother." Wes thought about his mother, the mother he'd never known. The only time Father had ever mentioned her, he had said simply that she was unworthy and was shunned. Wes didn't know what that meant exactly, but it sounded bad. He had heard Father in the parlor one night, talking real loud and calling Mother a hor. Was he supposed to hate his mother? He didn't ! Sometimes, he missed her so much, it hurt. He didn't care what she was if she'd just come home.
Over the years, ever since that first time he had held a new crayon in his hand, Wes had drawn... anything and everything. He had no drawing pencils, no charcoals, no sketch pads. He used fat school pencils and then #2s. He saved all his schoolwork so he could draw on the backs of the papers. Mrs. Harris saved all the bits and pieces of crayons and chalks for him. He didn't know why, but he could capture a smile, a look, a wisp of feeling with his pencil. He had never seen his mother, so he drew angels; angels holding the hands of small children.
Mercy had told Wes as much as she could remember; that their mother had been beautiful and had sung to her every night. Mercy could sing a few of the words and Wes had begged her over and over to sing them for him:
"Baby's boat's a silver moon sailing in the sky.
Hmm Hmm Hmmm and the clouds go by.
Please baby, don't forget to sail back to me."
Wes clung to those words, wishing his mother was here today to hold him and sing to him.
He jerked back from his daydream to hear Father saying the words that always finished his sermons:
"'Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall. Let my words follow you. If you wish to avoid destruction in your lives, be of proud heart. Do not let the evilness of the world creep into your hearts. Our god will punish you. Do not fall."
Even at eight years old, Wes knew that Father sometimes made no sense. Didn't he just say that his god would destroy proud people's houses and then to have proud hearts?? Somehow, Wes knew that this was not his God, his comfy God with the warm light who always held his hand in the dark of the big hole. He looked around quickly at the faces in the seats to his right. No one really seemed to be listening, just nodding and muttering 'Amen'. Was he the only one who didn't believe Father?
Wes felt Mercy nudge him and together they stood up and waited for Father to walk down the aisle and out the front door. Karl Jr. wasn't here again today. Wes sighed, knowing what was coming and wishing that Karl would just sit here and let the words drift over his body like he and Mercy did. It was a lot easier that way.
The saddest thing was that Karl was, in his own way, just as harsh and restrictive as Father and, as the years went by, just as mean. Mercy said she could remember way back when Karl Jr. had been nice, but that was when Mother had still been there. Wesley had never seen his brother being nice. It made him sad.
Wesley knew that the Hewetts went to church at the big Presbyterian Church over in Franklin. Every Sunday, Cole said, they got all dressed up, went to Sunday school and church and then their daddy took them out to eat at the steakhouse. Cole would tell Wes all about the deserts and he even brought Wesley M&Ms and sprinkles in a little plastic cup.
Wesley never asked Cole or Callie about church. He worried that they would want to come visit him at his and Wesley never wanted them to meet Father. He never wanted his Cole or his Callie to ever hear Father or see him. He was afraid Father would not allow him to be their friend. Father would say they were proud because they lived in a nice house and had nice stuff. Wesley's chest hurt just thinking about Father and Cole in the same thought. It was like talking about good and evil in the same breath.