Wiley Cash - A Land More Kind Than Home

“Nunya,” Daddy said. I knew what joke he was playing, but I went along with it anyway.

“Nunya who?” I said.

“Nunya Business,” Daddy said. I walked to the sink and poured a little water into my cup, and then I turned around and leaned against the counter and took a long drink. Mama rolled her eyes and walked past Daddy down the hallway to the bathroom. I heard the door shut, and then I heard it lock. Daddy looked over at me.

“Where’s your brother at?” he asked.

“He’s with Nunya,” I said. Daddy smiled and reached out and floated a soft, fake punch onto my jaw and wiggled his fist against my face. I felt his wedding ring on my cheek when he did it.

“That’s a good one,” Daddy said. He smiled. “With Nunya.”

MAMA SAT A PLATE FULL OF SLICES OF COLD HAM IN THE CENTER OF the table, and she’d made pintos and coleslaw with corn bread. I took my fork and picked up a slice of ham and dropped it on my plate, and then I mixed my beans and my coleslaw together and crumbled my corn bread over it, just like Daddy did. It was quiet except for the sound of the silverware hitting on the plates while we ate.

“Where’d you find that snake?” I asked Daddy. He cut himself a piece of ham and stabbed it with his fork.

“I just found him inside the barn door,” he said. “It’s like he was sitting there waiting on me.” He put the ham in his mouth and chewed on it. “Mmm!” he said. “This is just about the best ham I’ve ever had.” Mama looked up and stared across the table at Daddy like she was a little bit mad at him, but when I looked back at him I saw he was crumbling his corn bread over his beans like he didn’t even know she was thinking about him.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I looked down and saw a big old snake waiting on me,” I said. “It makes me think I probably should have a BB gun.”

“What do you think a BB gun’s going to do against a snake like that?” Daddy asked me.

“I’d shoot it,” I said. “I’d shoot it before it bit me.”

“There ain’t no way you’re getting a gun,” Mama said.

“That thing would’ve had you by the thigh before you could even give that gun a pump,” Daddy said. He reached under the table and grabbed my leg, and I jumped when he did it because it surprised me.

“I just think I need a BB gun,” I said.

“There ain’t no way,” Mama said. “One gun’s one too many in this house.” She stood up and walked over to the refrigerator and opened it and leaned inside and took the butter out of the door. When she did, Daddy dropped his fork and acted like he was pumping a shotgun and he aimed it at her backside. I laughed, and when she turned around we both went back to eating our lunch. Mama came back to the table and sat down and sat the butter by the corn bread.

“Jess,” she said, “me and your brother are going to the prayer meeting tonight after supper, and you’re going to have to come with us.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because your daddy’s got plans this evening,” she said. “He’s having company over.” She looked at Daddy, and then she took her knife and carved out a slice of butter and dropped it on Stump’s corn bread. Stump picked it up and took a bite, and the butter ran down off his chin. He picked up his napkin and wiped it off.

“I don’t need nobody watching me,” I said. “It ain’t like I’m a baby.” I looked over at Daddy. “I bet Stump don’t even want to go back to church tonight anyway. Me and him could just stay here.” Daddy crumbled more corn bread over his pintos and then reached across the table for the bowl of coleslaw. He spooned a helping onto his plate and sat it back down.

“Listen to your mother,” he said.

“Christopher,” Mama said. “Do you want some coleslaw?” Mama picked up the bowl and held it over Stump’s plate. She waited, and I knew she was hoping he might say something. Daddy sat his fork down and chewed his food and looked across the table at her. “Christopher,” she said again. She waited another second, and then she sat the bowl down on the table and picked up her fork.

DADDY WAS STANDING ON THE PORCH AND SIPPING A GLASS OF WATER when we left for the evening service. The sun was on its way down, and even though it was September and I knew the leaves would start dying soon, it was still awfully hot outside. I rolled the window down in the truck and leaned out and waved at Daddy. He waved back and stood there and watched us until we went around the corner of the driveway.

“I need to tell you boys something,” Mama said. She looked over at me and Stump. “Your grandpa’s coming to see Daddy this evening, and he might still be here when we get home.” She looked back at the road, and I stared at the side of her face. I hadn’t seen him since I was real little, back when he used to live out in Shelton where my daddy grew up. Mama’d told me I should call him Grandpa if I ever saw him again because it would make Daddy feel good.

“Where’s he been?” I asked.

“Lots of places,” she said.

“Why’d he come back?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is Daddy mad at him?”

“Not anymore,” she said.

“But he used to be mad at him?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t used to be a good person.”

“But he’s good now?”

“He wants to be,” she said.

MAMA PULLED INTO THE PARKING LOT AND PARKED THE TRUCK IN one of the spaces along the side of the church. Around to the right of the truck I could see people lining up and talking. I couldn’t see Pastor Chambliss, but I knew he was standing there in the door and greeting folks and shaking their hands as they went inside. Mama had brought some pens and pencils and some drawing paper with her in a little folder, and she picked it up off the dash and handed it to me.

“Here you go,” she said. “I want you to stay in the truck, and make sure to keep the windows down so you don’t get too hot. You can open the door if you need to, but I want you to stay inside here.”

“Is Stump staying out here too?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “He’s coming inside for the service.” She opened her door and stepped down from the truck. She waved her hand at Stump, and he climbed down too.

“I want to go with y’all,” I said. “I don’t want to wait out here.”

“Well, you’re going to have to tonight. Maybe you can go with us next Sunday morning.”

“But I want to go tonight,” I said. I tried to stop my voice from sounding scared. I can stop this , I thought. I can stop it from happening again. What happened this morning . I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and I knew my voice probably sounded like I might start crying, no matter how hard I was trying not to. I couldn’t keep my mind from picturing what I’d seen them doing to Stump that morning. Mama just stood there with the truck door open, and she looked over the hood toward the front of the church like she was thinking about whether or not she should let me go with them.

“I don’t think so,” she finally said. “Not tonight, but maybe next Sunday.” She slammed the door shut and took Stump’s hand. They walked around the back of the truck to the other side. Mama looked into my window. It was open about halfway. “Stay inside the truck,” she said. “Service shouldn’t last too long.”

“Please let me go too,” I said.

“No,” she said. “Come on, Christopher.” They turned and walked toward the front of the building. I watched them go, and then I rolled my window all the way down and got up on my knees and hollered after them.

“Wait!” I yelled. Mama stopped and turned around and looked at me. She held on to Stump’s hand and he stood right behind her, and behind him I could see across the road where the path began that led down to the river. I looked at Mama and thought about what all I could tell her that would keep Stump from having to go in there again: that me and Joe Bill had seen what they’d already done to him that morning, that it was me and not Stump who’d hollered out her name when those men started piling on top of him, that Stump hadn’t ever said a single word in his life and probably never would. I knew that earlier that morning in church Stump would’ve screamed for them to stop if he’d been able to, and I knew that if I would just open my mouth and say what all I’d seen I could make sure nobody would try to hurt him again.