Shiloh and Other Stories - Bobbie Ann Mason [60]
Even then, back in the winter, Shelby had been looking forward to the retreat, talking about it like a little boy anticipating summer camp.
—
Georgeann has been feeling disoriented. She can’t think about the packing for the retreat. She’s not finished with the choir robes for Jason and Tamara, who sing in the youth choir. On the Sunday before the retreat, Georgeann realizes that it is communion Sunday and she has forgotten to buy grape juice. She has to race into town at the last minute. It is overpriced at the Kwik-Pik, but that is the only place open on Sunday. Waiting in line, she discovers that she still has hair clips in her hair. As she stands there, she watches two teenage boys—in their everyday jeans and poplin jackets—playing an electronic video game. One boy is pressing buttons, his fingers working rapidly and a look of rapture on his face. The other boy is watching and murmuring “Gah!” Georgeann holds her hand out automatically for the change when the salesgirl rings up the grape juice. She stands by the door a few minutes, watching the boys. The machine makes tom-tom sounds, and blips fly across the TV screen. When she gets to the church, she is so nervous that she sloshes the grape juice while pouring it into the tray of tiny communion glasses. Two of the glasses are missing because she broke them last month while washing them after communion service. She has forgotten to order replacements. Shelby will notice, but she will say that it doesn’t matter, because there won’t be that many people at church anyway.
“You spilled some,” says Tamara.
“You forgot to let us have some,” Jason says, taking one of the tiny glasses and holding it out. Tamara takes one of the glasses too. This is something they do every communion Sunday.
“I’m in a hurry,” says Georgeann. “This isn’t a tea party.”
They are still holding the glasses out for her.
“Do you want one too?” Jason asks.
“No. I don’t have time.”
Both children look disappointed, but they drink the sip of grape juice, and Tamara takes the glasses to wash them.
“Hurry,” says Georgeann.
Shelby doesn’t mention the missing glasses. But over Sunday dinner, they quarrel about her going to a funeral he has to preach that afternoon. Georgeann insists that she is not going.
“Who is he?” Tamara wants to know.
Shelby says, “No one you know. Hush.”
Jason says, “I’ll go with you. I like to go to funerals.”
“I’m not going,” says Georgeann. “They give me nightmares, and I didn’t even know the guy.”
Shelby glares at her icily for talking like this in front of the children. He agrees to go alone and promises Jason he can go to the next one. Today the children are going to Georgeann’s sister’s to play with their cousins. “You don’t want to disappoint Jeff and Lisa, do you?” Shelby asks Jason.
As he is getting ready to leave, Shelby asks Georgeann, “Is there something about the way I preach funerals that bothers you?”
“No. Your preaching’s fine. I like the weddings. And the piano and everything. But just count me out when it comes to funerals.” Georgeann suddenly bangs a skillet in the sink. “Why do I have to tell you that ten times a year?”
They quarrel infrequently, but after they do, Georgeann always does something spiteful. Today, while Shelby and the kids are away, she cleans out the henhouse. It gives her pleasure to put on her jeans and shovel manure in a cart. She wheels it to the garden, not caring who sees. People drive by and she waves. There’s the preacher’s wife cleaning out her henhouse on Sunday, they are probably saying. Georgeann puts down new straw in the henhouse and gathers the eggs. She sees a hen looking droopy in a corner. “Perk up,” she says. “You look like you’ve got low blood.” After she finishes with the chore, she sits down to read the Sunday papers, feeling relieved that she is alone and can relax. She gets very sleepy, but in a few minutes she has to get up and change clothes. She is getting itchy under the waistband, probably from chicken mites.
She turns the radio on