Jenny Wingfield - The Homecoming of Samuel Lake

Jenny Wingfield

The Homecoming of Samuel Lake

Contents

John Moses couldnt have chosen a worse day, or a

This is the way it happened.

Kinfolk started pouring in early the next morning. Pulling up

The first hour was the worst. Willadees brothers kept the

Sometimes, when Geraldine Ballenger wasnt trying to think, but was

Uncle Toy had not spoken to Swan once since the

The little lane wound and twisted and tapered down to

The bed Swan slept in was so high she always

Bernice could hardly stand the way she felt the next

The way you trained a horse was, you taught it

Swan and her brothers had given up playing War Spies

Ras Ballenger had better things to do with his day

Bernice was wise enough not go on too much about

Samuel was out on the Macedonia highway, heading for the

On the first Friday in July, Odell Pritchett called from

Blade had no idea how long it would take for

Sheriff Early Meeks was born prematurely, back at the turn

In Blades dreams, he was running along the edge of

Ras knew that pretty soon, unless he could figure some

At breakfast, Samuel asked the rest of the family whether

As soon as Blade realized what was up, he lit

Willadee knew that Samuel was going to get a cool

What Swan intended to do was rescue Blade Ballenger. It

Willadee saw them coming when they topped a rise far

Swan was dead asleep. The little scuffling sounds of someone

Toy woke up around four oclock that afternoon, not because

Time rocked on.

The first thing Toy did after he got to his

Ras Ballenger didnt think much of people in general, and

Millard Hempstead and his buddy, Scotty Dumas (who lived in

The surgery was tricky and took hours. According to Doc

It wasnt so much decided that Willadee would take over

Theyd never had a fight before. Theyd never even had

How long are you intending for this revival to run?

At dawn, when Willadee dragged herself up the stairs and

February rolled around, and God still hadnt shown Samuel what

Willadee had started supper before she left to get Blade,

Swan was in a dark place. A deeply dark place,

Out in the yard, Samuel was still waving his arms

Calla grieved.

Nobody believed Swan about the mice. They didnt believe that

Columbia County, Arkansas, 1956

John Moses couldnt have chosen a worse day, or a worse way to die, if hed planned it for a lifetime. Which was possible. He was contrary as a mule. It was the weekend of the Moses family reunion, and everything was perfector at least perfectly normaluntil John went and ruined it.

The reunion was always held the first Sunday in June. It had been that way forever. It was tradition. And John Moses had a thing about tradition. Every year or so, his daughter, Willadee (who lived way off down in Louisiana), would ask him to change the reunion date to the second Sunday in June, or the first Sunday in July, but John had a stock answer.

Id rather burn in Hell.

Willadee would remind her father that he didnt believe in Hell, and John would remind her that it was God he didnt believe in, the vote was still out about Hell. Then he would throw in that the worst thing about it was, if there did happen to be a hell, Willadees husband, Samuel Lake, would land there right beside him, since he was a preacher, and everybody knew that preachers (especially Methodists, like Samuel) were the vilest bunch of bandits alive.

Willadee never argued with her daddy, but the thing was, annual conference started the first Sunday in June. That was when all the Methodist ministers in Louisiana found out from their district superintendents how satisfied or dissatisfied their congregations had been that past year, and whether they were going to get to stay in one place or have to move.

Usually, Samuel would have to move. He was the kind who ruffled a lot of feathers. Not on purpose, mind you. He just went along doing what he thought was rightwhich included driving out into the boonies on Sunday mornings, and loading up his old rattletrap car with poor people (sometimes ragged, barefoot poor people), and hauling them into town for services. It wouldnt have been so bad if hed had separate services, one for the folks from the boonies and one for fine, upright citizens whose clothes and shoes were presentable enough to get them into Heaven, no questions asked. But Samuel Lake was of the bothersome conviction that God loved everybody the same. Add this to the fact that he preached with what some considered undue fervor, frequently thumping the pulpit for emphasis and saying things like If you believe that, say AMEN! when he knew full well that Methodists were trying to give up that sort of thing, and you can see what his churches were up against.

John Moses didnt give a hoot about Samuels obligations. He wasnt about to mess with Moses tradition just because Willadee had been fool enough to marry a preacher.

Of course, Samuel wasnt a preacher when Willadee married him. He was a big, strapping country boy, strong as an ox, and dangerously good-looking. Black-haired and blue-eyedWelsh and Irish or some such mix. Several girls in Columbia County had taken to their beds for a week when Samuel married that plain, quiet Willadee Moses.

Samuel Lake was magic. He was wonderful and terrible, with an awful temper and fearsome tenderness, and when he loved, he loved with his whole heart. He had a clear tenor voice, and he could play the guitar or the fiddle or the mandolin or just about any other instrument you could think of. Folks all over the county used to talk about Samuel and his music.

Sam Lake can play anything he can pick up.

He can make strings talk.

He can make them speak in tongues.

Every year, the day after school let out for the summer, Samuel and Willadee would load up their kids and take off for south Arkansas. Willadee already had freckles everywhere the sun had ever touched, but she would always roll the window down and hang her arm out, and God would give her more. Her boisterous, sand-colored hair would fly in the breeze, tossing and tangling, and eventually she would laugh out loud, just because going home made her feel so free.

Willadee loved this ritual. This once-a-year road trip, when she was snugged into the car with her good, healthy familyall of them fairly vibrating with anticipation. This was her time for thinking about where theyd been and where they might be going and how well the kids were growing in to their namesthe names shed given them as blessings when they were born. The first boy, shed called Noble. Her clear call to the universe to infuse him with courage and honor. The younger son was Bienville. A good city, or as Willadee thought of it, a peaceful place. The girl, she had named Swan. Not because a swan is beautiful but because it is powerful. A girl needs power that she doesnt have to borrow from anyone else, Willadee had thought. So far, her blessings seemed to be working. Noble was honest to a fault, Bienville was unfailingly amicable, and Swan radiated so much strength that she wore everybody else to a frazzle.

Columbia County was located down on the tail end of Arkansas, which looked just the same as north Louisiana. When God made that part of the country, He made it all in one big piece, and He must have had a good time doing it. There were rolling hills and tall trees and clear creeks with sandy bottoms and wildflowers and blue skies and great puffy clouds that hung down so low youd almost believe you could reach up and grab a handful. That was the upside. The downside was brambles and cockleburs and a variety of other things nobody paid much attention to, since the upside outweighed the downside by a mile.