The Architecture of the Arkansas Ozarks - Donald Harington [51]
Initial public reaction to Noah’s construction of the treehouse was mixed; half of the Stay Morons declared that it confirmed their suspicion that Noah was “not over-bright,” while the other half countered by saying Well as I live and breathe! and What do you know about that! and If thet aint the beatinest thang ever I seed! These people coaxed out of Noah an invitation to climb up and view the interior(s); he could admit them only one at a time; the others queued up at the base of the tree, and even some of those who had deemed Noah “not over-bright” joined the line and waited their turns to climb up and look inside his treehouse. Word quickly spread, and soon people from Parthenon and even Jasper were joining the queue, which grew longer and longer. An itinerant evangelist, or wandering “saddlebag preacher,” happened by the end of the queue, which at that point was stretched out of sight of the treehouse around a bend in Swains Creek.
There was some profane cursing going on at the end of the queue, with imprecations of “Quit shovin!” and “Git in line!” and “Keep off my toes!” and the profanity, more than the queue itself, drew the preacher’s attention. “Brethern and sistern,” he addressed them, “how come you’uns take the Lord’s Name in vain?” The people just stared at him, until one of them said, “Light down often yore goddamn horse, and take yore place in line like everybody else.” This incensed the preacher, but he got down and tethered his horse to a tree, and took his place in line. The line moved slowly, and by and by the preacher tapped the shoulder of the man ahead of him and asked, “What air we a-waitin fer, anyhow?” The man, who happened to be Jacob Ingledew, looked at him. Jacob judged from the preacher’s clothing, and from his remark about taking the Lord’s name in vain, that he might be an ignorant preacher who had just stumbled by, and he asked him, “Air ye a preacher, Reverend?”
“Some has been known to say so,” the preacher replied.
“Wal, Reverend,” Jacob said, “you’re jist in time. It’s the Jedgment Day, and up yonder God has set Hisself a booth up in a tree, and we’re all a-waitin to be jedged.”
The preacher began to sweat, and while he continued to wait patiently in the queue, he gave himself over to silent prayer. After a while his place in line had moved around the bend of Swains Creek, and he came in view of the big sycamore tree with Noah’s treehouse thirty feet off the ground, and people climbing up the ladder to it. His knees trembled and he stumbled against Jacob, who said, “Quit shovin, Reverend. God has got all day.” Jacob meanwhile had quietly passed along to the others the news of the joke that was being played on the poor preacher, and the others gave him amused looks and tried hard not to laugh. One woman said to the preacher, “You aint skairt, air ye, Reverend? Don’t the Lord place the preachers on His right hand?” “Yeah,” the preacher replied, “but there was a few sins in my past that air still a-troublin me.”
By the time the preacher reached the head of the queue at the base of the big sycamore tree, he was lathered with sweat and trembling as if with the palsy. Jacob took his turn climbing up to view the interior(s) of his brother’s treehouse, but decided against telling Noah that his next visitor would be a dumb preacher expecting to meet God. When Jacob climbed down, he had to assist the preacher in climbing the rude rungs up the tree, and to give him a final shove to propel him through the door of the treehouse, where the preacher fell down on his knees before the astonished Noah, crying, “LORD, I REPENT EVER BIT OF IT!” Noah, who had been sitting in his chair welcoming each visitor with the same mild words: “Howdy. Make yerself