Furniture than Rose had. So for whatever reason, Rose’s wrath had landed on Thom Jeff. And being no wilting flower, Thom Jeff had reciprocated the dislike word for word and action for action.
That night it looked like they might make it through the cake and ice cream and go home in peace. Thom Jeff and Rose, both inebriated, had managed to stay on opposite sides of the room. But in the blink of an eye, which is often the case in these kind of squabbles, Thom Jeff and Rose were standing toe to toe yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. Ham had no idea what they were arguing about, and later neither did the two of them. Thom Jeff was poking Rose in the chest with his finger, when all of a sudden Rose produced a pistol and began waving it around the room.
“What the hell are you doin’, Rose!?!” Thom Jeff shouted and lunged for the gun. They struggled, and the gun went off and the front window of the dining room exploded. Everybody froze.
An eternity later, a disheveled and disoriented Uncle Carl threw open the front door and surveyed the room, inhaler in hand. He saw the gun still in Rose’s hand.
“Godammit, Rose. You shot Mr. Ed!”
“Dear Jesus! Who’s Mr. Ed?” asked Edith before she passed out and crumpled to the floor. Aunt Edith always did have a flair for the dramatic.
As he rushed over to relieve Uncle Rose of his weapon Ham had two thoughts. First, the Curse of MacPherson stupidity had been narrowly avoided this time. And second, this probably wasn’t the kind of party Brother Bob or God had in mind.
Chapter 6
No charges were filed. As far as the MacPhersons were concerned, it was just another family “incident” of which there had been many and no doubt would be many more. Cornelia would arrange to have the front window replaced. Aunt Nora and Wilson spent the night with Dubya and Cornelia and went to church with them the next day. Nora was curious about how the Little Rock Baptist Church—now the Second Little Rock Baptist Church—had changed since she was a girl growing up and attending there. From what she had heard it had become one of a handful of progressive Baptist churches in North Carolina, similar to Pullen Memorial, the one she attended in Chapel Hill. It even had women deacons like Pullen! Because of family, church, and business commitments, she hadn’t been able to attend services there since Brother Bob had become co-pastor, and that had been nearly ten years. Even on holidays, she and Wilson made it a point to be back at Pullen on a Sunday morning where the two of them had taken turns rotating on and off the deacon group. But curiosity had finally gotten the best of her.
She was not disappointed in the service. There was something there for everyone, and she loved that communion was observed every week. The highlight of the service was Scotty Moore’s baptism at the end of the service.
Scotty was a cherished treasure in the community. He had been diagnosed during childhood with a hydrocephalic condition. His skull was enlarged, and shunts failed to reduce the swelling caused by an accumulation of cerebrospinal fluid in the brain. Scotty suffered from other physical and cognitive disabilities associated with hydrocephalus, including seizures and tunnel vision that left him virtually blind. Scotty was now twenty-two years old and had lived longer than any of the doctors thought he would. Most everyone concluded Scotty’s longevity correlated exactly with the will and determination of his parents, Cecil and especially Peggy, to keep Scotty alive. Inactivity had caused his weight to balloon, and it was now difficult to move him from bed to wheelchair, but Peggy and Cecil did it every day, bringing him to the garage during the week and making sure he was in church at Second Little Rock Baptist every week.
Scotty sat in his wheelchair at the front of the church, singing to himself under his breath. According to the doctors, Scotty could not see much more than outlines and shadows. Brother Bob spoke:
“Brothers and sisters, a few weeks ago we voted unanimously to accept Scotty Moore as a candidate for baptism.”
“Amen,” someone said.
“As you know, we generally practice believer’s baptism here by immersion, but the church council approved sprinkling as an appropriate mode in this case. I think they didn’t want me to drown Scotty in the baptistery!”
“I don’t wanna drown, Brother Bob,” Scotty said.
“You’re not going to Scotty,” Brother Bob reassured him. “I’m going to sprinkle the water on you. Scotty, do you accept Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior?”
“Oh yes, Brother Bob!” Scotty began to sing his second favorite song, “Jesus loves me this I know. For the Bible tells me so.” The congregation joined in. “Little ones to him belong. They are weak and he is strong. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. Yes, Jesus loves me. For the Bible tells me so.”
“Scotty, my brother in Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” Brother Bob sprinkled Scotty’s head with water, which proceeded to run down into his eyes. Scotty wiped his eyes and confessed that “the Holy Spirit done got into my eyes, Brother Bob.” Then he began to sing “Jesus Loves Me” again. When he finished, it seemed the Holy Spirit got into everybody’s eyes that day.
Ham cried, too, and marveled at what he witnessed. God has a special place in heaven for Scotty, Ham thought, and it meant a lot not just to Scotty’s family, but also to the church to be able to participate in publicly welcoming this child of God into the family. Second Little Rock Baptist Church had accepted members from other denominations “upon statement of faith” regardless of their mode of baptism ever since Brother Bob had been pastor. But folk who made a “profession of faith” in the church and “accepted Jesus into their hearts for the first time” were immersed. Ham received believer’s baptism by immersion when he was twelve years old. Scotty’s baptism was the first time anyone could remember at Second Little Rock when a new convert’s baptism was done by sprinkling. But nobody objected to the mode of Scotty’s baptism.
Nina had invited Wilson and Aunt Nora to join the MacPherson clan and Brother Bob for Sunday lunch. The family and Brother Bob were about to sit for lunch following the morning services, and Brother Bob excused himself to go to the bathroom. Everyone was horrified when Brother Bob re-entered the room, wet hands raised like a surgeon about to operate—Nina had forgotten to take the sign down!
“I didn’t want to die, so I didn’t know what to do,” Brother Bob said.
Nina looked horrified. “Ham, you didn’t take down the sign in the bathroom?”
“I forgot, Mama,” Ham said, realizing his mother’s warning, “Touch these towels and die!” written on an index card, must still be hanging on the bathroom mirror.
“I’m so sorry Brother Bob. It’s hard to keep the house clean for guests when you have four children,” she said, cutting a glance over at Thom Jeff, who had not attended services but did manage to put on a clean shirt and pair of trousers in place of his usual faded jeans.
“Don’t worry about it, Nina. Everything is fine,” Brother Bob said and smiled.
Aunt Nora was looking forward to finding out more about this unusual pastor and how he ended up back in North Wilkesboro, so while they were eating, Aunt Nora began her inquisition.
“So Brother Bob, Mama and Daddy tell me you are from around here? I wonder why I don’t remember you. Honey Ham, would you pass those green beans, suga’. They are delicious, Mama.” Ham passed the beans, and Aunt Nora dipped a few on her plate, all the while looking intently at Brother Bob.
“Well, I was a few years behind you in school, but I remember you Nora.” Nora was hard to forget. Head cheerleader. Winter Waltz Queen. And, even at fifty-two, still a good-looking woman.
“Oh that’s right, you were big buddies with the Brookshire twins, right?”
“That’s right. Jimmy and J. B., and there was Rick Sutton, too. We all went to UNC together. J. B. is the reason I ended up back here.”
“Well, you’ve all done quite well for yourselves. I believe I remember that you were a Morehead