Robert Coover - The Brunist Day of Wrath

The plan is to cut off the phones and electricity. It might have been easier to do at the old mine, where the lines come from, but there have been workers over there on the mine hill all day — a lot of digging going on — and old man Suggs probably has people guarding the machinery, which is lit up. Hard to get up there unseen. So they accepted Young Abner’s idea of sneaking into the dark side of the camp. The barbed-wire fence has been extended past where Nat entered, but there’s a gap further down through which they’ve come, crawling through the thick growth of honeysuckle and high weeds. Young Abner has spent a lot of time mapping the camp out, knows its soft points. He’d like to do something awful to the girl, whom he thinks of as having betrayed him — whip her where it hurts — but the trailer parking lot is too exposed. At least with the lights on. The Coates boys, Royboy and Aaron, pushing at each other, have got into some kind of stupid argument and can’t seem to keep their mouths shut in spite of everybody shushing them. Their father Roy gets fed up and gives Aaron such a fierce clout across the ears that he yelps out, and Young Abner has to blow his owl whistle to cover it up. Aaron mutters something and gets another blow from his father on the back of his head that sends him sprawling in the wet grass and this time he shuts up. They creep toward the creek. They can make out one or two of the post lamps through the trees. Maybe we should just knock out the bulbs, Royboy whispers, but Isaiah Blaurock shakes his head, puts his finger to his lips, and slips away into the trees, heading toward the center of the camp. Nobody moves. Dead silence. Even the Coates boys are holding their breath. Nothing happens for what seems like hours. A couple of their group have quietly backed out the way they came.

Suddenly there’s a loud pop and fizz like a firecracker going off. Then darkness. It had seemed like darkness before, but they’d actually been able to make out something of the ground at their feet, the trees beyond, and he realizes the pale light they’d had before was from the camp lamps reflected in the drizzle. They’re gone now and it’s pitch black. “I cain’t see nuthin,” Royboy Coates complains and a shot rings out. “Dad, I’m hit! Oh shit!” It’s Royboy’s brother Aaron. “Oh! Oh! Help!” He’s crying.

They all open fire. Young Abner is shooting, too, but he doesn’t know what at. Just into the night, where the streetlamps used to be. He’s blowing the whistle, as if anyone shooting will think he’s only an owl. Somebody passes him silently on the way out. Isaiah. Tugs on his sleeve. Roy Coates stumbles by, his wounded son over his shoulder like a sack of meal. “C’mon! Let’s get goin’!” he grunts. Young Abner’s already on his way, the rest following his lead as more shots crackle in the night.

No one has slept all night. Except Willie Hall, who seemed not to know what happened. When told of the overnight attack on the camp, he cried out, “Lordy lord! The enemy hath smoten our life clean down to the ground! He’s made us t’dwell in the dark like as those as has been long dead!” For some reason this recital seemed to cheer everyone up, and though somewhat shaken still by the explosive rattle and complete loss of power (the phone lines are out, too, as they’d discovered upon trying to reach the sheriff), they began to get on with the dawning day. Which is possibly the most important date in Brunist history. Or maybe not. Darren is beginning to see weak points in his calculations. Moments when he generalized or extrapolated or slid over difficulties. He was only trying to help. People expect too much. He may have made an error. He is looking for alternative interpretations of what he has collected so far, just in case.

It was what he was doing when the attack happened. Billy Don was on guard duty, so Darren could turn the lights on in the cabin, work at his table. He was listening again to the recordings of the Voice in the Ditch, and just as he leaned in close to the speakers, intent on hearing any least whisper, a sudden explosion dumped him to the floor and the lights went out. He couldn’t see a thing. His heart was pounding. Was it after midnight? Maybe it was already happening! It felt like something in a dream and for a moment he thought that he was dreaming and he tried to wake up. He was startled by a loud knock on the window, like somebody hitting the closed wooden shutter with a hammer. Were they trying to break in? He heard shouts. He recognized some of the voices, crawled over to where the door should have been, and when he found it, opened it a crack and peeked out. Total darkness, but he could see movement. People running around in their pajamas and underwear — some of the men had rifles, which they fired into the woods, toward the creek. A mad hooting of owls somewhere. Flickering light in the cabin next door: candles. He slipped over there, ducking low, found Mrs. Edwards trying to soothe a distraught Colin dressed in nothing but his limp skivvies, howling something about black fire. Darren talked to Colin to calm him down and doing that calmed him down, too. He borrowed a candle from the grateful Mrs. Edwards and returned to his cabin, staying low. Black fire: Colin knew! Billy Don returned, wide-eyed, breathing heavily. “We hit one of them,” he said. “But they got away.” They stayed up the rest of the night talking about it. They sometimes dozed only to wake again at the slightest sound. He felt, in a sense, his prophecy had already come true. Except that it was not an act of God. Just hecklers. Vandals. More like a prelude. A fanfare. There had to be more to come.

When dawn leaked through the morning gloom, Darren discovered that the awning shutter had been struck by a bullet. The loud bang he had heard. Closing the shutter last night may have saved his life. The telephone lines had been cut and the electrical system shorted out. Wayne said the problem may go all the way back to the supply. He and his crew had already begun to work, but a lot of damage had been done, and he let people know it was going to take them a full day’s work, which meant, with today’s ceremonies over at the Mount, power wouldn’t be back on until at least tomorrow. It was a setback, but they had lived without electricity until two months ago, they could live another day without it now. Ludie Belle announced that the Sunday dinner menu would be changed to include as many of the refrigerated perishables as possible. Billy Don said he knew of a pay phone in Tucker City where he could try to call the sheriff’s office, and people chipped in some coins for him to use. The sheriff turned up soon after with some of his officers and they examined the sabotage and talked with Welford and Wayne about how it might have been done. A lot of shots had been fired and they found evidence of that. Darren showed them the window shutter. The sheriff sent someone to ask at the hospital if anyone had been treated for a bullet wound. One. A young man named Aaron Coates. A hunting accident. That was all Sheriff Puller needed. He and his troops swooped down on the Baxter encampment, and according to the reports now coming back to the camp, arrested several persons, including Abner himself. Also, in West Condon: Roy Coates and his two sons. They are being charged with trespassing, destruction of private property, disturbing the peace, and attempted murder.

In spite of the intrusion, the Brunists feel that God is watching over them, and they decide to go ahead with their plans to hold the Sunday morning church services over on the Mount of Redemption, followed immediately by the cornerstone laying. The sheriff has promised police protection and Bernice has agreed to stay with Elaine at the hospital to allow Clara to attend. Afterwards, they will return to the camp to continue to work together on the repairs. It’s the Sabbath, but this is God’s work, and everyone is eager to get on with it.