Prayers of Agnes Sparrow (41 page)

“Yes, I’m sure,” Agnes said. “It's been a long time coming, and I finally decided the time was right. Remember how I used to tell folks who came in for prayer that sometimes a miracle had to do with timing—the fullness of time?”

Ruth swiped tears from her eyes and grabbed a fist of Kleenex. “I remember.”

“Well, my time can’t get much fuller.”

The doorbell chimed, and Studebaker and Boris came in followed by Doc carrying his bag with his stethoscope around his neck.

After a few minutes of small talk Doc said, “I guess we should get going. We’ll have to put Agnes in the truck.”

“Truck?” Stu said. “That's not going to work.”

“But why?” Agnes asked. “I always rode in the back before.”

“Yeah,” Ruth said, “she got cold sometimes in the winter, and once it rained on her but—”

Stu cracked his neck. “No offense Agnes, dear, but you’ve gotten a bit heavier and wider in the last few years. I just don’t see how we’re going to get you in Griselda's truck.”

Doc said, “Stu's right, Agnes. It could be dangerous.”

Agnes laughed. “Yep, could be. Don’t want me falling on anyone.”

“You laugh, Agnes,” Doc said. “But it could happen.”

“Well how are we supposed to move her?” I asked.

Ruth chimed in. “Maybe Farmer Higgins will bring that big old cattle ramp.” Then she smiled at Agnes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make it sound like you’re a c—”

“It's all right, Ruth,” Agnes said. “Now's not the time for politeness.”

“Ramp's too dangerous,” Stu said.

“Then how?” Boris asked. “There must be some way.”

Stu twisted his mouth. “Well, once we get her outside we could … “Then he trailed off. “I haven’t got a clue.”

“It's going to take a feat of engineering,” Doc said.

“Ah, come on, Doc,” Agnes said. “I’m big but I’m not the Brooklyn Bridge.”

“Maybe Fred would have an idea,” I said. “He's smart about these things.”

“Good idea,” Stu said. “You all wait here. I’ll go get Fred.”

Agnes looked at me. “Did you tell them?”

“What?” Stu asked.

“Agnes needs to go to the church first and take care of some unfinished business.”

All three men opened their mouths to speak, but I believe God closed them.

“Now how are you going to get across the street?” Doc asked.

“On my knees if I have to.”

“Look, Agnes,” I said. “Let's have Pastor come here. He can administer the sacraments right in the viewing room. No need to go inside the church. Church is wherever God is.”

Agnes shook her head and started to turn red. “No. I need to go inside the church, into the sanctuary, and finish my business.”

I swallowed hard, thinking this could kill her. “Okay, Stu, you go get Fred. Doc and me and Boris will start Agnes across the street.”

Stu took off while we helped Agnes make her way to the front door. It was a tight squeeze through the entryway with her hips banging the walls with each waddling step. When Ruth opened the two front doors Agnes lit up like a birthday cake.

“Oh, my goodness,” she said. “I haven’t been this close to the outside in so long I forgot the beauty. Look at those mountains, Griselda. Smell that air.”

We walked her onto the porch and rested. Doc listened to her chest. “Clear as a bell,” he said. “They shouldn’t be, but her lungs are clearer than I’ve heard them in years.”

We all exchanged glances.

“Of course they are,” Agnes said. “God knows I’ve got business to tend to.”

The steps down were the hardest part. Three times I thought she was going to fall, but each time it was like unseen hands reached down and steadied her.

By the time we reached solid ground again, a full half hour had ticked past since Agnes started her journey. Janeen and
Hazel were walking down the street, clutching their grocery bags and yakking. They stopped when Janeen walked into a tree.

“Let's go,” Agnes said.

So off we went, one wobbly step after the other. Janeen and Hazel watched. Soon Stu returned with Fred Haskell, and Dot Handy was there. Sylvia Spiney came out of her house, screamed, and then went running down the street in the opposite direction. I think she went through town like Paul Revere telling the people because within a few minutes a full-scale army had gathered. “Agnes is coming. Agnes is coming.”

I heard whispers and remarks. Nothing you wouldn’t expect given the circumstances. It was mass confusion. When Tohilda showed up, she asked the obvious question.

“Where's she going?” Tohilda called.

Agnes kept her eyes fixed on the church and kept putting one foot in front of the other. Her breathing was getting a little shallower, but she kept going until about three-quarters of the way there, she had to stop.

Pastor Speedwell appeared at the church door with his Bible clutched to his chest.

“She's on her way to church,” Janeen blurted. “Agnes is going to church.”

“Yeah,” Frank said, “look at her go. I’ve seen tortoises at the zoo move faster.”

Zeb came out from behind a tree and grabbed Frank's arm. “Stop it, you bully!”

For a second I worried Zeb might pop him in the mouth. Frank slinked away and stood next to Janeen.

“Maybe she's going to ask forgiveness for bringing Hezekiah to town,” Hazel said.

Agnes signaled she was ready to take some more steps, but before we completed two, Eugene Shrapnel arrived and started slinging his hot, venomous coals at us.

“It's about time she repented. Look away all of you. Look away and be healed of this woman's influence. Turn from the devil.”

Janeen stupidly turned her back, followed by her husband and several others. I felt a kind of wrath bubble up inside of me that I couldn’t contain. I handed Agnes over to Doc and Ruth, while Stu and Fred worked from the front.

I stood on the church steps. The Jesus pie tin twinkled in the late afternoon sun. Jack Cooper stood near it, silently watching.

“Go home,” I hollered. “Go home if you can’t show respect. You’re no better than you were when we were children. A bunch of bullies. You have no idea what Agnes did for you, how she dedicated her life to you—you bunch of ungrateful, selfish bullies.” Some gasps and a few loud protests erupted, but they were short-lived. “When did you care for Agnes? When did you pray for her?”

Pastor touched my shoulder. “It's okay, Griselda. Help your sister.”

We took Agnes into the dark church lobby. Pastor flipped on the light as Agnes started to wobble.

“She needs to sit,” I said. “Where can she sit?”

Pastor grabbed Stu's elbow. “I know.”

“Steady, Agnes,” Doc said. “Try and stand still until they get back.”

“No,” Agnes said. “Can I get to the sanctuary … please?”

We exchanged concerned looks but walked Agnes into the sanctuary. That's when we heard a ruckus coming from the church basement steps.

“Here they come,” Doc said.

“No, you have to stand it on it's end,” I heard Stu say.

“I’m sorry,” Pastor said. “I am not a moving man.”

Doc was hesitant to leave us at first, but he went and helped them carry a regular-sized bright red sofa into the lobby.

“Look at that,” Agnes huffed. “They got a couch.”

The men carried it to the front of the church and set it down right behind Agnes so all she had to do was fall back. “It's Brother Jack Cooper's,” Pastor said. “He takes his coffee breaks on it.”

“I don’t mind if Agnes sets on my couch,” Jack said. “It's the least I can do. Why I’d give her the moon and the stars if it were in my power.” Pastor raised his eyebrows at Jack, and he slinked away into the shadows.

Agnes fell into the grungy sofa with a tremendous thud. It buckled under the weight. “That's better,” she said.

Doc listened to her chest. “Still good. A little wheezy but I’m not worried.”

Pastor Speedwell crouched in front of Agnes and looked into her eyes. “Are you ready, Sister Agnes?”

“Yes.”

Pastor Speedwell gathered the sacraments and led Agnes through Holy Communion. Tears flowed as she chewed and swallowed the cracker. I stood there and cried. Joy returned to her eyes as she drank the juice and made peace with her past.

“Thank you, Jesus,” she said with both eyes on the large wooden cross that hung above the baptistery. “Thank you.”

The sanctuary doors swung open. A wide swath of sunlight burst through as Janeen, then Zeb and Hazel and Tohilda Best walked inside, followed by Boris and Fred.

“We came to help, Agnes,” they said.

Pastor Speedwell prayed a short prayer about nothing much in particular. It was like he didn’t know what to say until he
got near the end. “And Heavenly Father,” he said. “We thank thee for thy mighty hand at work here among us this day, for lifting our dear sweet, sweet sister Agnes up out of her bed and carrying her across the street into this, thy sanctuary.”

It was decided that Agnes should rest awhile right there on Jack's couch, before attempting the other half of her journey that day. The town rallied in a way I had never seen them. They brought her a lunch of pork chops, applesauce, mashed potatoes, broccoli, a large glass of chocolate milk, and Full Moon pie for dessert. Ruth even ran home and whipped up a batch of Cora Nebbish's lemon squares for her to eat at the nursing home.

After lunch Stu spoke up. “This is all fine and dandy. But we still haven’t figured out how we’re going to get her to Greenbrier. It's a nine-mile trip from here.”

I turned to Fred. “Have you come up with a plan?” I asked.

He chewed his bottom lip and shook his head. “Nope. Nope, I can’t say that I have, Griselda.”

All of sudden Ruth piped up and chirped like her parakeet. “Oh! Oh! Oh, my goodness. Nate Kincaid can help us. I mean, how does he move them extra large pumpkins of his around? Don’t he carry three or four of them giant pumpkins all the way to Shoops every year for the weigh-in.”

“Weigh-off,” Pastor Speedwell corrected.

“Don’t matter,” Ruth said. “Off or in he can still help, don’t you think.”

“That's right,” Stu said, and he and Fred took off like bullets. “We’ll go get Nate.”

“Now how in tarnation is a pumpkin grower going to get Agnes to Greenbrier?” Doc asked.

“Well, you got to admit he's used to moving big things,” Boris said. “Let's give him an opportunity.”

Agnes sat quiet the whole time like she didn’t have a care in the world, or more likely she knew that the Almighty already had her in his hands. We just had to provide a little support.

Several anxious minutes later Jack Cooper came running into the church. “He's here. Nate's here with his forklift.”

Sure enough, there he was sitting in the driver's seat of a yellow Caterpillar forklift.

“Hey, Griselda,” he called. “This baby will do the trick.”

“Nate,” I said. “You just aren’t planning on picking her up with that thing, are you?”

“Nah, we’ll need to think it through.” Then he climbed down and headed into the church with the rest of us.

“Well, how do you move them pumpkins?” Boris asked.

“Simple. We just roll them onto a pallet and then raise the pallet with the fork and off we go to Shoops.”

I watched Agnes turn white. “Now how in jumpin’ blue heck do you expect to roll me onto a pallet, Nate? I am not a pumpkin.”

Nate scratched his head.

“Can you lift her on the couch she's sitting on?” I asked.

The men all looked at each other and then wandered away a few feet to discuss the possibility.

“That I think we can do,” Nate said. “‘Course we’ll have to strap you in there, Agnes. Wouldn’t want you falling onto the street or nothing.”

“Oh, my goodness gracious,” Ruth said. “It sounds too dangerous. Maybe you better just go on back home, dear.”

Agnes shook her head. “Nope, can’t and won’t do that. Now you boys think on it a minute. I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

“Well,” Fred said. “I reckon we could make it work, but we’ll have to get Agnes up first, move the couch outside, and then bring Agnes out and let her sit again. Yep, that's the only way.”

Agnes heaved a huge sigh. “Oh, my, that sounds like a lot of work.”

“Hold on a second,” I said. “You mean you want to forklift Agnes all the way to Greenbrier?”

“Yep,” Nate said. “It's how I move my pumpkins, about fifteen hundred pounds worth, and Agnes don’t weigh near—”

“But she is not a pumpkin.”

Nate smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. “She’ll be perfectly safe once we figure a way to strap her into the couch.”

Doc took another listen to Agnes's heart while the discussion continued. “You’re sounding good, Agnes. Keep up the good work. We’ll get you settled somehow. I called, and they’re waiting for you.”

“It would be a lot easier to remove that wall over there,” Nate said. “Wouldn’t take much. Not much more than some wood and plaster.”

“You saying you want to dismantle the house of the Lord?” Pastor said. “Why that can’t be right. Not right at all.”

“We’ll rebuild it,” Stu said. “Won’t take more than a day with all us working together.”

“But it's the house of the Lord,” Ruth said. “Don’t we need to say some special prayers or anoint something before we can knock it down?”

“What are you asking, Ruth, that the Pastor here should bless our hammers and chainsaws?”

Ruth stood closer to Agnes. “I’m just asking a question. Don’t go getting all twitterpated over it.”

“I suppose it will be all right,” Pastor said after a moment. “If the good Lord can cause the walls of Jericho to fall, then he can cause the walls of this church to crumble.”

“Now don’t go writing a sermon about it,” Stu said. “It's just one wall. There won’t be any trumpet blasts.”

The next thing we knew the men were outside making a tremendous racket. The church was little more than wood and plaster, which would account for how cold it got in the winter months, so it didn’t take long before they had torn a hole big enough for Agnes and the couch to fit through.

On the other side of the hole we could see pretty much everyone in town standing around with the same shocked expressions on their faces. But the men continued working and tied Agnes to the couch with a rope around her body and knotted onto the couch legs.