Stella by Starlight (18 page)

“I know, Hazel. But it can't hurt you. I promise. Come on out now.”

A tiny head, hair going every which way, poked out from the roots. Hazel. Oh Lord, thank you Jesus! Hazel! Hazel was crawling on her hands and knees toward her. Stella kept coaxing her forward, then pulled the girl into her arms. She'd never felt so relieved in all her life.

“Let's go find your daddy and mama,” Stella told her soothingly. “They've been looking for you.”

29

Mr. and Mrs. Spencer couldn't stop thanking Stella and exclaiming to her parents. “I thought I'd lost the world when my house went up in flames, but Lord have mercy, that didn't mean
anything
compared to when I thought I'd lost my sweet baby girl!” Mrs. Spencer went on, Hazel still clutched in her arms.

“I can rebuild a house,” Mr. Spencer added, “but our Hazel . . .” His voice broke, and he gave Stella what had to be his twentieth bear hug.

Stella's own parents couldn't stop touching her shoulders, smoothing her hair, brushing off her dress. She tried to shrug it all off, but when Tony sauntered over, simply to say, “Impressive!” before heading back to help with the final cleanup, she couldn't help but beam.

Now that Hazel was found, the fire was contained, and the house was clearly a loss, a number of folks wearily started making their way home. Some, however, stayed behind to toss one last layer of water and dirt on the smoldering remains.

“You know we're all gonna help you rebuild, Hobart,” Papa told Mr. Spencer. “Every one of us.”

“We're mighty grateful, Jonah,” Mr. Spencer replied. He looked so very tired.

Stella's father had more to say. “Since my mama passed on last year, her house has just been sittin' there empty. I want you to head on over there for tonight, for as long as you need. It's small, but it's got a solid roof.”

Mr. Spencer's face flooded with gratitude as he murmured his thanks once more.

It was after midnight by the time Stella and her family dragged into their house, bone weary and covered with soot. But when Stella finally got most of the ash and smoke off and fell into bed, her sleep was troubled. She tossed and turned, dreaming about dragons and ghosts, about fire and water, about snakes and hidey-holes.

Sunday morning came too soon, but their little church was packed. Families who usually came only for holidays filled the pews with scrubbed and subdued children. Men who usually skipped church to go fishing, and men who stayed late at the local bar and slept in on Sunday mornings, squeezed themselves in with the rest of the community.

Just before the first note of the first song rang out, the Spencer family, all fifteen of them, made their way down the center aisle. Their clothes were the same soot-stained ones of the night before, but every face was scrubbed clean, every chin held high. Hazel was wedged between her parents. As they walked past, every single person in the church stood and applauded. Once the family was seated, Mrs. Hawkins raised her arms for the choir to begin. The song she chose was, to Stella's mind, perfect. “Hush.”

“ ‘Hush, hush,' ” the bass and tenors sang first. “ ‘Somebody's callin' my name.' ”

The altos joined in. “ ‘Hush, hush, somebody's callin' my name.' ”

Finally the sopranos. “ ‘Hush, hush, somebody's callin' my name.' ”

Then everyone together: “ ‘Oh my Lord, oh my Lord, what shall I do?' ”

The next verse was sung with deep, growling passion. Stella joined in loudly.

“I'm so glad that trouble don't last always,

I'm so glad that trouble don't last always,

I'm so glad that trouble don't last always,

Oh my Lord, oh my Lord, what shall I do, what shall I do?

Hush, hush, somebody's callin' my name,

Hush, hush, somebody's callin' my name,

Hush, hush, somebody's callin' my name,

Oh my Lord, oh my Lord, what shall I do, what shall I do?”

When Pastor Patton finally came up to the pulpit, Stella could tell every single person there was wondering what he would say. He began with a prayer.

“Dear Lord, You have seen us through good times and bad, through adversity as well as triumph. We thank You that no lives were lost yesterday, that You
saved every member of the Spencer family. Houses can be rebuilt. People cannot.”

A chorus of amens moved through the church.

“Sometimes we're not sure which path to take, whether it is time to fight, or time to wait. Help us to make the right decision, Lord, and help us to stand with nobility, no matter what, and to live without fear. Amen.”

He looked across the pews. “Is it possible to be scared and brave at the same time?”

Stella scrunched up her forehead, not sure of the answer.

The pastor walked away from the pulpit, closer to the congregation. “I was fixin' to preach about David and Goliath this morning, because David was young, and brave, and faced an enemy who seemed to be impossible to defeat. But I changed my mind. This morning is too important.”

Stella picked at a hangnail, but for the first time in many Sundays, she tried to pay close attention.

The pastor continued. “We sang this morning about somebody calling our name. That song is about listening to the voice of the Lord, about being ready when we are called.”

Jojo elbowed Stella and pointed to his left foot. A thin line of brown ants was crawling across his big toe, and he was trying not to giggle. Stella clamped her hand over her mouth, stifling her own snickers.

Without warning, the pastor called out loudly, “Stella Mills, please stand up! I'm calling your name!”

“Huh? What'd I do?” Her heart thudded as every last person turned to look at her. She touched her hair, positive it was a mess, and wondered if the pastor had seen her laughing at the ants.

“Get up, Stella,” her mother urged, nudging her.

Slowly Stella stood. In the center of the fifth row of pews, she stood, nervous, wondering what was going on.

“
This
young person is going to be the subject of my sermon today,” Pastor Patton said.

Stella's knees nearly gave out. “Me?”

Her parents looked just as dumbfounded.

“Stella Mills is eleven years old,” the pastor continued. “But she represents all the children here today—her own brother, the children of the Hawkins family, the Winstons, the Bateses, the Malones. Little Claudia Odom. All the families with children—too many to mention them all. And all thirteen of Brother
Spencer's brood—which is practically a small town in itself!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Stella caught Tony and Johnsteve and Randy pointing at her and grinning. She wanted to disappear under the floor.

“Yes, this little girl represents all of us. She is youth. She is promise. She is the reason we get up each morning and go to jobs where we are underpaid or mistreated, to work in fields that are dry and parched and refuse to yield. She stands there for
all
our children.”

As Stella gaped at him, she sensed her mother sitting up a little taller, her daddy, too.

“Yesterday, in the midst of the heat and the flames, Stella Mills showed absolute bravery and courage as she ran
toward
the fire to rescue little Hazel Spencer.”

Stella blinked. She didn't think what she had done yesterday was brave or courageous at all.

“And now, Hazel Spencer, stand up,” the pastor said. “Stand up, honey. Now I'm calling
your
name.”

Stella was relieved when all eyes moved to look at Hazel, who stood up and gazed around with as confused a look as Stella imagined she herself had on her face.

“Because of Stella Mills, Hazel Spencer is with us this morning. Because of Stella Mills, we know what bravery looks like. Because of Stella Mills, we give thanks that this child is with us. Because of Stella Mills, we know why we must keep on believing in our future.”

Please stop talking about me and making me seem like something I'm not,
Stella felt like screaming.

“I want all the children to stand now,” Pastor Patton said. “All of you, get up! We value you. We honor you. We sacrifice for you. We're calling your names!”

As Jojo got up, a bright-blue marble clattered noisily to the wooden floor and rolled away. Mama shot him that
how dare you?
look, but he just grinned sheepishly and stood with the rest of the children. Stella was mighty glad to be joined by the others. They all looked from one to the other with pleased satisfaction.

“We promise to teach you, and to guide you,” Pastor Patton told them. “Each of you is a David, and you
will
face many Goliaths in life. The job of the adults is to prepare you. And we will.”

The grown-ups in the church started to clap and
cheer. Then they all began to stand as well, and hug their children, other folks' children, and even one another.

“Come to the front, children,” Pastor Patton called out above the cacophony. “Come and sing for us. Mrs. Hawkins, will you lead them in “ ‘Get on Board'?”

Stella and the others moved uncertainly to the front of the church. But Mrs. Hawkins took control right away, moving the group quickly up to the stage, placing the little ones in front and the taller ones in the back. She gave the signal to Mrs. Grayson at the piano, then lifted her arms, and the children began to sing.

“The gospel train is a-comin'

I hear it close at hand

I hear that big train movin'

And a rumblin' through the land

Get on board, little children

Get on board, little children

Get on board, little children

There's room for many a more

I hear that train a-comin',

It's comin' round the curve

It's loosened all its steam brakes,

And straining every nerve

Get on board, little children

Get on board, little children

Get on board, little children

There's room for many a more

The fare is cheap and all can go

The rich and poor are there

No second class on board this train

No difference in the fare

Get on board, little children

Get on board, little children

Get on board, little children

There's room for many a more.”

Mrs. Hawkins led them though a dozen verses, each one faster and more spirited than the first. By the time they got to the final verse, the children were
clapping in rhythm, the grown-ups were singing with them, and Stella could tell that the whole church was filled with a joy that hadn't been there when she walked in.