The Architecture of the Arkansas Ozarks - Donald Harington [107]
Meanwhile, the new minister was enjoying himself at the Ingledew’s table, where he had six helpings of spit-roasted mallard with all the trimmings. Salina and her daughters held Brother Stapleton in absolute awe, not alone for his fabulous sermon but also for his appetite. It was the custom, then and for many years afterward, for the women and girls to wait until the men and boys had finished eating before serving themselves, but Salina and her daughters couldn’t help hanging around the table and watching Brother Stapleton eat. Sirena Stapleton, who usually tried not watching her brother eat, hung around too, because she was falling in love with all four of the Ingledew brothers. At the table, Brother Stapleton tried to engage Isaac in conversation, but quickly discovered that Isaac was taciturn, so he talked instead with the “boys” (even though the boys were as grown as they would ever be, Ingledew brothers would always be known as “the boys,” even in their old age). The boys did not hold Brother Stapleton in such awe as their mother and sisters did, but still they sure had enjoyed watching that show, they said, and hoped he would put on some more shows for them to watch. He replied that he wasn’t in any great hurry to move on. Denton Ingledew, the oldest brother, was brave enough to ask, “How come, durin the prayer, you crossed yore fingers at the end?”
Brother Stapleton choked on a bite of mallard wing, but composed himself and eyed Denton coolly. “How’d ye know I had my fingers crossed?”
“I was watchin,” Denton declared. He looked to his brothers, who nodded in affirmation. “We’uns all saw ye.”
“Why weren’t yore haids bowed durin the prayer?” Brother Stapleton asked.
“We don’t bow our haids,” Denton said. “Aint ary one of us believes in God, ’ceptin Maw and them gals.”
“Too bad,” said Brother Stapleton. “How kin ye believe in Jesus iffen ye don’t believe in God?”
“I reckon we’uns don’t believe in Him neither,” Denton said.
“Me neither,” said Brother Stapleton. “Which is why I crossed my fingers when His name was taken.”
Salina Ingledew was unable to restrain herself from rushing this news to the other ladies of Stay More, and her daughters passed it on to their friends, and soon the talk of the town was about the heterodox beliefs of Brother Stapleton. The deacons of the meeting house decided that he must be a Jew and ought to be hanged or better yet burned. Meanwhile, Sirena Stapleton was trying unsuccessfully to draw the attention of the four Ingledew brothers; not one of them would even look at her. Their sister Perlina took her aside and explained, “It aint no use. Ingledews is always shy toward gals.”
Salina Ingledew felt a little uncomfortable having in her house a minister who did not believe in Jesus, but since it was always customary to urge the parting guest to remain, when Salina said to Brother Stapleton, “Stay more. Stay and eat you some supper with us,” he replied, “Why, thank you,” and stayed to eat six helpings of scrambled eggs. Again, after supper, Salina was obliged to say, “Stay more. Better jist spend the night with us,” and Brother Stapleton replied, “Why, thank you.” There weren’t any spare beds, but Salina prepared a pallet on the floor of the boys’ sleeping loft for him, and one on the floor of the girls’ sleeping loft for his sister Sirena. In the middle of the night, Sirena, sleepless on the thin pallet, and very cold despite the heap of quilts covering her, and doubtless feeling frustrated over her failure to