Ashes (25 page)

So you got to pray to the Lord. I like to
pray in church, where there’s lots of people and the Lord has to
mind everybody at the same time. It’s probably wrong, but I get
scared when I try to pray all by myself. I used to pray with Momma
and Daddy, then just Daddy, and that’s okay because I figured
Daddy’s louder than me and probably has more to talk about. I just
get that sharp rock feeling in my belly every time I think about
the Lord looking at nobody but me, when I ain’t got nothing to hide
behind and my stick is out of reach.

But these ain’t the End Times, Daddy said,
because the gray people don’t have horns and the TV didn’t say
nothing about a dragon coming up out of the sea. But he said since
they eat human flesh they’re of the Devil, and said their bodies
may be walking around but you better believe their souls are
roasting under Hell. Especially if they got bit by the Aye-rab bug.
I told him the cattle was put up and he said the chickens would be
okay, you can’t catch a chicken even when your legs is working
right, much less when you’re wobbling around like somebody beat the
tar out of you with an ax handle.

He said to get in the truck. I made Shep jump
up in the truck bed, Daddy come out of the house with a loaf of
white bread and some cans of sardines. Had the shotgun, too. He got
in the truck and started it and I asked him where we was headed. He
said in troubled times you go get closer to the Lord.

I asked him if maybe he thought Momma would
be okay. He said it didn’t matter none, since the Devil done got
her ages ago. Said she was already a gray person before this bug
mess even started. Said to waste no prayers on her.

The dirt road was mushy from winter. The road
runs by the creek for a while, then crosses a little bridge by the
Hodges place. That’s where I always caught the school bus, with
Johnny Hodges and his sister Raylene. Smoke was coming out of their
chimney and I asked Daddy if we ought to stop and tell them about
what the TV said. Daddy said they might be gray people already. I
tried to picture Johnny with his face all slopped around, or
Raylene with bugs eating her soft places. Mister Hodges didn’t go
to church and Johnny told me he used to beat them sometimes when he
drank too much. I wondered if all the people who didn’t go to
church had turned gray and started eating human flesh.

We passed a few other houses but didn’t see
nobody, even at the preacher’s place. The church was right there
where the gravel turned to paved, set up above the road on a little
green hill. The graveyard was tucked away to one side, where barbed
wire strung off a pasture. The church was made of brick, the
windows up high so that people wouldn’t look outside during the
preaching. Seeing that white cross jabbed up into the sky made me
feel not so scared.

We parked the truck around back. Daddy had me
carry the food and he carried the shotgun. Said a Bible and a
shotgun was all a man needed. I didn’t say nothing about a man
needed food. I found a little pack of sugar in the truck’s ashtray
and I hid it in my pocket. We didn’t have no Co’-colas.

They keep the church unlocked in case people
want to come in and pray. Daddy said people in the big city lock
their churches. If they don’t, people might come in and sleep or
steal the candle holders and hymn books. But this is the mountains,
where people all know each other and get along and you don’t need
to lock everything. So we went inside. Daddy made Shep stay out,
said it would be disrespecting to the Lord. We locked the door from
the inside. I thought somebody else might want to come get close to
the Lord in these troubled times, but Daddy said they could knock
if they wanted in.

We went up to the front where the pulpit is
and Daddy said we might as well get down and give thanks for
deliverance. I didn’t feel delivered yet but Daddy was a lot
smarter about the Bible, so I went on my knees and kept my eyes
closed while Daddy said oh Lord it’s looking mighty dark but the
clouds will part and heaven will knock down them gray people and
set things right. I joined in on the amen and said I was
hungry.

Daddy opened up the sardines and they stank.
I spilled some of the fish juice on the floor. We ate some of the
bread. It was gummy and stuck to my teeth. I was tired and tried to
lay down in the front pew but it was like sleeping in a rock
coffin. I didn’t know why people in the big city would want to do
such a thing. Daddy started reading from the Bible but the light
got bad as the afternoon wore on. The church ain’t got electric
power.

I asked Daddy how long we was going to stay
holed up and he said as long as it took. I wished we had a TV so we
could see what was going on. Night finally come, and I was using
the bathroom in back when I heard Shep whimpering. I reckon he was
lonely out there. Sounded like he was scratching in the dirt out
back of the church.

I climbed up on the sink and looked out the
little window. Under the moonlight I saw the graveyard, and it
looked like somebody had took a shovel to it, tore up the dirt real
bad. Somebody was coming up out of one of the holes, and I reckon
that’s what Shep was whimpering about.

I went and told Daddy what I seen and he said
maybe it was the End Times after all. Shep started barking and I
begged Daddy to let me open the door. He said the Lord would take
care of Shep, but then I heard him bark again and I was trying to
open the door when Daddy knocked me away. Said he’d take a look,
stepped outside with the shotgun, and the gun went off and Daddy
started cussing goddamn right there on the church steps. Shep
started moaning and I ran to the door and Shep was crawling toward
the woods on his belly like his back was broke. I thought Daddy had
shot him and I started to cry but then I seen somebody coming from
the woods. Daddy racked another shell into the chamber and hollered
but the person just kept coming. Daddy told me to go in and lock
the door but I couldn’t. I was too scared to be in that big dark
church by myself.

Daddy shot high and the pellets scattered
through the tops of the trees and still the person kept coming,
walking slow with a limp. Another person came out of the trees,
then another. They was all headed in the same direction. Straight
toward the church.

One of them bent down and got Shep and I
never heard such a sound from a dog. Daddy was cussing a blue
streak and let loose both barrels and one of the people stood still
for just a second, and I could see that gray face turned up toward
the moon, the eye holes empty. Then his insides tumbled out but he
kept on coming for us and Daddy was pushing me back through the
door and we got inside and locked it.

Daddy went up front and I could hear him
crying. Except for that, the church was quiet. I thought the gray
people might try to knock the door down but maybe they got scared
away because of it being a church and all. I went up beside Daddy
and waited until he was hisself again. He said he was sorry for
showing fear in the face of the enemy and said Oh Lord, give me the
strength to do your work. I said Lord, protect Momma wherever she
is and Daddy said it was wrong to ask for selfish things.

Daddy said the End Times was a test for the
weak. Said you had to stay strong in the Lord. Said it about
fifteen hundred times in a row, over and over, in a whisper, and it
made me scared.

I was about asleep when Daddy poked me with
the gun. Said come here, son, over by the window where I can see
you good. The moon was coming through the window and I could hear
the gray people walking outside. They was going around in circles,
all headed in the same direction.

Daddy asked me if I got bit by one of them
bugs. I said don’t reckon. He said, well, you’re looking a little
gray, and I told him I didn’t feel nary bit gray. He asked me if I
was getting hungry and I said a little. He gave me the rest of the
bread and said eat it. I took a bite and he said you didn’t say
thanks to the Lord. Then he thanked the Lord for both of us.

I asked Daddy if Shep had gone to heaven. He
said it depended on whether he was dead before the gray people ate
him. Said Shep might have done turned gray hisself and might bite
me if he saw me again. I almost asked Daddy to say a prayer for
Shep but that sounded like a selfish thing.

I must have finally dozed
off because I didn’t know where I was when I opened my eyes. Daddy
was at the front of the church, in the pulpit where Preacher
Aldridge stood of a Sunday. The sun was about up and Daddy had the
Bible open and was trying to read in the bad
light
.
Somebody was
knocking on the church door.

Daddy said the word was made flesh and dwelt
among us. Daddy stopped just like Preacher Aldridge did, like he
wanted to catch his breath and make you scared at the same time.
Then Daddy got louder and said we beheld His glory, the glory as of
the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth.

I asked what did that mean and Daddy said the
Lord come down among people and nobody saw the signs. Said they
treated Him just like any normal person, except then He set off
doing miracles and people got scared and nailed Him to the cross.
Said it was probably gray people that done it. I asked Daddy if we
ought to open the church door and see who was knocking.

Daddy said gray people wasn’t fit to set foot
in the house of the Lord. I asked what if it’s the preacher or the
Hodges kids or Opalee Rominger from down the road. Daddy said
they’re all gray, everybody. Said they was all headed under Hell.
Said ever sinner is wicked and blind to their sinning ways. I
didn’t see how Opalee Rominger could eat living flesh, because she
ain’t got no teeth.

The knocking stopped and I didn’t hear no
screams so maybe whoever it was didn’t get ate up.

I listened to Daddy read the Bible. The sun
come up higher and I wondered about the cows. Did the gray people
eat them all? It wasn’t like they ain’t enough sinners to go
around. I didn’t for a minute believe that everybody was gray.
There had to be others like us. There’s a hymn that says you’ll
never walk alone. I don’t reckon the Lord breaks promises like that
but I was way too scared to ask. Daddy’s eyes were getting
bloodshot, like he hadn’t slept a wink, and he was whispering to
hisself again.

I drank water from the plate that Preacher
Aldridge passed around on Sundays. The water tasted like old
pennies. Daddy didn’t drink nothing. I asked him if he wanted the
last can of sardines but he said man can’t live by bread alone but
by the word of the Lord. I wondered what the Lord’s words tasted
like. I wondered what people tasted like. I ate the sardines by
myself.

That night was quiet, like the gray people
had done gone on to wherever they were headed. I woke up in the
morning plenty sore and I asked Daddy if we could take a peek out
the door. Daddy hadn’t moved, stood up there at the pulpit like he
was getting ready to let loose with a sermon. He had the shotgun
raised toward heaven and I don’t reckon he heard me. I asked it
louder and he said you can’t see the gray people because ever
sinner is blind. I said I ain’t no sinner but he said you’re
looking mighty gray to me.

I said I ain’t gray, and then he made me
prove it. Said get on your knees and beg the Lord to forgive you.
He pointed the shotgun at me. I didn’t know if he would use it or
not, but the way his eye twitched I wasn’t taking no chances. I got
on my knees but I was scared to close my eyes. When you close your
eyes and pray it’s just you and the Lord. You’re blind but the Lord
sees everything. I asked Daddy to pray with me.

Daddy set in to asking the Lord to forgive us
our sins and trespasses. I wondered if we was trespassing on the
church. It belonged to the Lord, and we was here so we wouldn’t get
ate up. I didn’t say nothing to Daddy about it, though. I added an
extra loud amen just so Daddy would know for sure that I wasn’t
gray.

Later I asked Daddy how come ever sinner is
gray. He said the Lord decides such things. He said Momma was a
sinner and that’s why she was gray all along and her soul was
already under Hell. I didn’t say nothing to that. Sometimes Daddy
said I took after my Momma. I wished I’d took after Daddy instead
and been able to pray all by myself.

I said it sounded like the gray people was
gone. Daddy said you can’t trust the Devil’s tricks. Said the only
way out was through the Lord. I said I was getting hungry again.
Daddy said get some sleep and pray.

I woke up lost in the dark and Daddy was
screaming his head off. He was sitting where the moon come through
the window and he said look at me, look at my skin. He held up his
hands and said I’m gray, I’m gray, I’m gray. Said he was unfit to
be in the House of the Lord. He put the shotgun barrel up to the
side of his neck and then there was a flash of light and sounded
like the world split in half and then something wet slapped against
the walls.

I crawled over to him and laid beside him
‘til all the warm had leaked out. I was scared and I wanted to pray
but without Daddy to help me the Lord would look right into me and
that was worse than anything. Then I thought if Daddy was in heaven
now, maybe I could say a prayer to him instead and he could pass
along my words to the Lord.

The sun come up finally and Daddy didn’t look
gray at all. He was white. His belly gurgled and the blood around
his neck hole turned brown. I went to the door and unlocked it.
Since it was Sunday morning, I figured people would be coming to
hear the sermon. With more people in the church, I could pray
without being so scared.

I stacked up some of the hymn books and stood
on them so I could look out the window. They was back. More gray
people were walking by, all headed in the same direction. I figured
they were going to that place under Hell, just like Daddy said, and
it made me happy that Daddy died before he turned gray.