Robert Whitlow - Deeper Water

"I'll notify Mr. Carpenter. Any questions about the terms of the offer?"

"No ma'am."

"Then sign it and mail it to my attention. Will you need help finding a place to stay?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Would you like to live alone or with a roommate?"

I hesitated. Alone would be expensive, and I needed to save as much money as possible. But a roommate could be risky. In college, I shared a dorm room with a teammate from my high school basketball team. We were different, but she respected my beliefs. She wore headphones while listening to her music and never brought a boy into the room while I was there. I kept the room immaculate and helped her pass freshman English and chemistry for nonscience majors.

"A roommate would be fine if we have a chance to talk before making a decision," I replied.

"One of the summer clerks is a girl from Atlanta. Do you want her name and number?"

"Yes ma'am." I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from Mamas nightstand.

"Here it is," Ms. Patrick said in a few moments. "Julie Feldman. She's finishing her second year at Emory."

I swallowed. Feldman sounded Jewish. Our church believed the Jews were God's chosen people, but I'd never had to choose one myself. Ms. Patrick rattled off a phone number and e-mail address that I scribbled on the sheet of paper.

"Give Julie a call or send her an e-mail. She's already been down to look for a place to stay."

"Are there any other summer clerks?"

"Yes, a young man who grew up in Charleston. He's attending Yale."

My eyes opened wider. The thought that my neophyte legal work would be compared to that of an Ivy League law student was instantly intimidating.

"Okay. I'll get in touch with Julie."

Ms. Patrick spoke in a more pleasant tone of voice. "Call if you need help or have other questions. You'll have a great time in our program. Summer associates get to sample everything Savannah has to offer."

"Yes ma'am."

I hung up the phone. Ms. Patrick might be upbeat about everything Savannah had to offer, but it sounded ominous to me. Social pressures to conform were constant, but never welcome. I didn't relish the prospect of a future laden with the smorgasbord of sin. Not that I feared temptation. Doing the right thing was easy compared to defending my conduct to skeptics. I glanced at the slip of paper in my hand and decided not to contact Julie Feldman until I returned to school where I had constant Internet access. I'd made enough quick decisions about my future in the past twenty-four hours.

Mama and the twins were in the front room. I quietly watched them for a minute from the doorway. Emma and Ellie had their heads close together as they shared a science book. The sock dispute had vanished like the morning mist above the ground outside. Mama was sitting in a rocking chair reading a devotional book.

I'd loved my homeschool years with Mama. I wasn't naive about turning back the clock, but the refuge of home always seemed more precious when thinking about the hostile world at the end of the dirt driveway.

I spent the rest of the morning with Mama and the twins. The routine of the day restored my equilibrium. After helping fix bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches for lunch, I mailed the summer clerkship agreement to Savannah. Turning toward the house, I absorbed every detail of the scene. I hoped my anchor in the hills of Powell Station was strong enough to hold me fast in the murky waters of Savannah.

LATE THAT AFTERNOON, I took two pillows to the front porch and positioned them on the swing so I could lie down comfortably.

The swing creaked as I shifted my weight. Flip and Ginger, hearing the sound of the swing, ambled around the corner of the house and took up their customary positions in the dirt beneath the porch.

I studied the massive poplar tree in our front yard. The new leaves showed no sign of the stress that would come with the onslaught of summer's heat. I wiggled my toes, which appeared as large as the trees on a distant hill. Before I realized it, Emma was tapping me on the shoulder.

"Wake up!"

I blinked. "Was I asleep?"

"Don't pretend you were praying," Emma said. "Is Mama going to let you live in Savannah this summer?"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ellie standing just inside the house.

"Ask her," I responded.

The twins ran toward the kitchen. I got out of the swing and followed.

Emma and Ellie were firing questions at Mama when I entered the kitchen. They knew that if they could persuade Mama to change her mind, it would negate my plans. Arguing with me would be a waste of time.

"Fix the spaghetti sauce for supper while I talk to your sisters," Mama said to me.

She took the girls onto the back steps. In a few seconds it was quiet. I opened two jars of canned tomatoes, added other ingredients from the spice pantry, and placed the pot of chunky sauce on the stove to simmer. Mama and the twins returned. She looked at me.

"Did you promise Ellie that she and Emma could visit you in Savannah this summer?"

"No ma'am," I said, and then continued quickly when I saw Ellie about to explode. "I told her a trip might be arranged if you and Daddy gave permission. I don't even know where I'm going to stay."

Mama turned to Ellie. "Is that what she said?"

"I'm not sure. I was sleepy."

A trip to Savannah isn't like a drive for a picnic at the park. And I don't want to be like Jacob and have all my children leave and go down to Egypt. Unlike Canaan during the time of Joseph, there isn't a famine in Powell Station."

"But it meant the whole family got to be together," Emma said.

"Go upstairs and straighten up your room," Mama told the girls.

"I'm sorry if I caused a problem with my mention of a visit," I said when they left the room.

"It was a helpful diversion," she replied. "They love you so much the thought of your absence hurts. A trip to see you gives them something else to think about."

I stirred the sauce. "Do you think the whole family could visit? It would be a chance for the twins to see the ocean for the first time."

Mama lifted a huge pot of water for the noodles onto the stove. "Goodness. That would be a big undertaking. You know how busy summer is around here."

THE JOB IN SAVANNAH was the major topic of conversation at the supper table. My role in the decision didn't come out, but I saw Kyle and Bobby give each other a knowing look. It made me wonder what secret dreams they held about the future. A wave of fear washed over me that they might not be seeking God's will. It would crush me if a member of our family became a prodigal.

"I've sought the mind of the Lord about this," I said as a quick lesson to my siblings. "It's not an act of selfish independence or rebellion. Daddy and Mama are going to give me their blessing."

"And I'll be blessed if I can take your spot at the plant," Bobby added with a hopeful glance at Daddy.

"I'll mention it to Mr. Waldrup," Daddy said. "But are you sure you want to work inside on the line? I could try to find a place for you as a catcher."

The catchers went into the chicken houses, grabbed the birds, and crammed them into cages for transport to the processing plant. It was hot, nasty, physical labor.

"Did working on the line bother you?" Bobby asked me.

The days standing in the chill of the plant with razor-sharp scissors in one hand and chicken guts in the other were a numbing blur.

"The language of some of the women is bad," I replied. "But the chickens don't have much to say, and the smell is better than what you'd face as a catcher."

"What do the women say?" Emma asked.

Mama shook her head, and Emma plunged her fork into her spaghetti.

SUNDAY MORNING, OF COURSE, WE WENT TO CHURCH. I PUT MY hair in a tight bun and helped the twins get ready in their long dresses that reached to their ankles. Everyone in our van had assigned seats. I occupied the referee position between Ellie and Emma. It was about three miles to the church. The sanctuary was a large redbrick building with opaque white windows. Families similar to our own streamed into the parking lot. It was the one day during the week when normal looked like us. We took our usual seats about a third of the way from the front on the left side of the sanctuary.