Cannot Wait to Get to Heaven - Fannie Flagg [38]
“I sure hope I find out life’s mysteries. I’ve been just itching to know what they are. Can’t you give me a little hint?”
“I’m sorry,” said Ida, “but no.”
“Well, if you can’t tell me any mysteries or revelations, you can at least tell me what God looks like, can’t you?”
Ida said nothing and kept walking.
Elner scurried to keep up with her. “Let me ask you this then—does he look like his picture? I’m not going to be scared, am I?”
Ida said nothing again but did shake her head no, to let Elner know she had nothing to be afraid of.
“Well, to tell you the truth, Ida, I’m a little worried. I’ve done a couple of things he might not be too happy about. One thing for sure, I should never have given little Luther Griggs that Ex-Lax and told him it was chocolate candy. I must have been out of my mind at the time. Can you plead temporary insanity? What do you think?”
“I think you are in for the surprise of your life.”
“Ahhh,” she said. “Am I going to be surprised a little, or a lot? Will it be a good surprise or a bad surprise?”
“All I can say, Elner, and then I will say no more, is I suspect that you are going to be very pleasantly surprised.”
Elner was somewhat relieved. “Well, good,” she said, and thought, “If he doesn’t bring anything up, I’m certainly not going to say anything.” But after they had walked a few more feet, she had still another inquiry.
“Can I ask him questions or am I just supposed to stand at attention and listen?”
No answer.
“Should I curtsy, kneel down, or what?” Elner wanted to do the right thing, but Ida was still not forthcoming and no help whatsoever.
“Well, at least tell me one thing. Do you think he’s going to be mad at me?”
Ida, true to her word, would say no more, and it irritated Elner no end. “She knows,” she thought, “she’s just not telling me. Typical.”
As they strolled along the path, Elner suddenly thought of something. “Hey, Ida, whatever happened to the Knott family Bible? The last time I saw it, Gerta had it, but then after you died nobody could find it.”
“I buried it.”
“Where?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Why did you bury it?”
“I thought it was for the best.”
“Why?”
“Because, Elner, there is personal family information in there that doesn’t need to get out in public, that’s why. You don’t want just anybody knowing your business, do you? And why do you care?”
“Because I would like to know how old I am, or was. I must be close to ninety right now, don’t you think?”
“Oh, Elner,” she scoffed. “I don’t pay any attention to those things, and what difference does age make anyway. You’re as old as you feel, I always said.”
Elner knew Ida was holding back information. Ida knew exactly where she had buried that Bible and how old they both were. “Plus,” thought Elner, “Ida was no more fifty-nine when she died than the man in the moon, and any person who would still lie about her age even after she’s dead is pretty vain, if you ask me.”
As they continued on, Ida thought back on the day their other sister, Gerta, had died. It had been a cold gray freezing day and she was wearing a big fur coat and had been able to stick the rather large Bible under her arm and get out the door with it. She knew, of course, she could not burn a Holy Bible, or throw it in the river or rip out the offending pages or anything blasphemous like that, so she hid it until spring, then wrapped it in cotton, put it in a large airtight Tupperware container, and buried it in her rose garden. She had no regrets or guilt about it. She had always lied about her age, and she saw no reason to stop now. Besides, shaving a few years off here and there was not really lying, it was a matter of survival.
Had the Jenkins family known that the girl their son Herbert wanted to marry was at least eight years older than he, they might have frowned upon the marriage. She had barely managed to snag a good husband as it was. Herbert’s father had owned several banks around the state and was quite prominent. Herbert had not been much, but he had been her last chance to move up in the world, and she had made