Swan Place (29 page)

And right then and there, I knew for sure that I truly liked the Sisters of the Circle of Jesus, even though I didn’t know a single one of them or understand why they all had such strange names.

So they all just enjoyed their good desserts and they talked and nodded their heads and every few minutes, somebody would say, “Well, praise the Lord!” and they would all murmur “Amen!” But then, every once in a while, they would all lower their voices and lean forward in their rocking chairs, making that circle even smaller and tighter and talk so low that I couldn’t understand a word they said. When I saw Buzzard get up and start gathering up all the dessert plates, I ran on tiptoe back down the hall, went into the kitchen, and started running water in the sink. And I wasn’t a moment too soon, either, because in only a few seconds, Buzzard came in, carrying plates, and one of the sisters was carrying some, as well. One of the women in a pink dress.

“Well, thank you, Dove!” Buzzard said. “You’ve got the wash-water all fixed. And doesn’t a single one of these plates even need scraping!”

The woman added, “That pie was so good, I wanted to lick my
plate! Awful hard for me not to do it!”

Buzzard looked so pleased at that. “You liked my pecan pie that much?”

“I sure did,” the woman murmured. Then, “And who’s your good helper here?”

“Oh, this is Dove. I told you all how her family is staying with me.” I turned from the sink and smiled at the woman. And at the same time, I was thinking that maybe they were talking about us when they had all leaned forward in such a tight circle and talked so very low.

“Dove,” Buzzard said, “This is Sister All-Forgiving.”

Sister All-Forgiving? What kind of a name was that?

The woman smiled broadly at me, showing dazzling white teeth, and before I could dry my hand and hold it out to her and say “How do you do?” she had wrapped me up in a big hug that took me completely by surprise! A hug that crushed my nose into her strong shoulder and mashed my shoulders right into the sides of my neck. When she let me go, she and Buzzard both laughed.

“Come on,” Buzzard said. “Let’s go introduce you to the rest of the sisters. Molly and Little Ellis still asleep?”

“Yes’m,” I gulped, wondering if I was going to get bear-hugged by all those other big, strong women. Such a thought even made me forget to ask how Sister All-Forgiving came by such a strange name.

When Buzzard led me out onto the porch, the women stopped talking all at once and looked at me with faces that were like whispered question marks.

“Sisters, this is Dove I told you about.” The hats bobbed as all of the women nodded their heads at me. Except for the real old child-sized sister, who had fallen asleep again, with her hat tilted down over her face. Buzzard took a deep breath. “Dove, these are the Sisters of the Circle of Jesus,” she announced in an important-sounding voice. Starting with the other woman who had on a pink dress just like Sister All-Forgiving, Buzzard said, “This is Sister Living-Word.” And I looked into the open and friendly face identical to Sister All-Forgiving’s.

Twins!

“How do you do?” I said uncertainly, hoping she wouldn’t jump up and crush-hug me. To my relief, she just smiled and said, “I’m doing just fine.” Next to Sister Living-Word was the one who wore the pretty green-and-white checked dress. “This is Sister Lamb-of-God,” Buzzard introduced her, and that time, I forgot to wonder about yet another strange name. She smiled and we nodded our heads to each other.

Next to Sister Lamb-of-God was the woman in the lavender dress, “And this is Sister Baptized-by-John.” I smiled and nodded my head, but my eyes had already moved to the sleeping, child-sized lady. Buzzard lowered her voice: “And this is our beloved Sister Blood-of-the-Lamb. She’s having a little nap right now.”

“You sure do have a pretty name,” said Sister Baptized-by-John—or maybe it was Sister Lamb-of-God. I wasn’t sure.

“Thank you,” I said, and then, for some strange reason, I told them about my
real
name, and that was something I hadn’t even told Savannah—or Crystal
:
“My full, real name is Mourning Dove,” I offered. “But most folks just know me by ‘Dove’—and at school
 . . .
” My mind briefly fluttered to Miss Madison. “I’m registered as M. Dove Johnson.”

“Why’d your mama name you that?” asked Buzzard, and I knew—but of course, I had never said anything about it—about why Buzzard’s mama gave her such a name!

“She liked mourning doves the best of any bird in the whole world,” I said. “She said that they sing the saddest, sweetest kind of song.”

“And in the Bible, it’s a dove from Heaven that says, ‘This is my beloved son, in whom I am well pleased.’” added Sister Lamb-of-God—or maybe it was Sister Baptized-by-John. “We’re glad to meet you, Dove,” she added. Then, almost as if on signal, the women started stirring around, gathering their purses, and touching cheeks as they said good-bye to each other. They awakened Sister Blood-of-the-Lamb, whose eyes blinked in a confused way just under the edge of her tilted-down hat.

“Jesus come?” she asked the same question. I figured she asked this every time she got woken up.

“Jesus always comes when we gather in His name,” Buzzard said again, and this time, Sister Blood-of-the-Lamb simply said “Oh,” but in what I thought sounded like a disappointed voice. But the little old woman wasn’t paying any attention to Buzzard. She was staring right at me.

“I’m Dove,” I volunteered, because something in her eyes made me know what she was wondering.

“Dove,” she repeated.

“Let me help you,” Sister Living-Word said. Or maybe it was Sister All-Forgiving, because I’d already forgotten which was which, they looked so much alike. So whoever she was, she reached out and lifted that little Sister Blood-of-the-Lamb out of her chair, just like she was lifting a child. The same two women who had carried her in had crossed their arms to make a sort of seat, and the other one plunked that little women right on them. They all started moving toward the back door, but then Sister Blood-of-the-Lamb said something real low, and they all stopped, turned around, and looked right at me.

“She wants to know who you are,” one of them said.

“I’m Dove,” I repeated, and the little old woman gazed at me for a long moment before she nodded her head. The women all went out into the yard, got themselves all settled in the truck, and drove away. I could hardly wait to start asking Buzzard questions! But before I could say a word, I heard Molly crying. She always got cranky if she slept too long, and of course, I’d been so caught up in the Circle of Jesus goings-on that I had not awakened her soon enough. So it took me a little while of sitting with her and rocking her in my arms before she calmed down. Little Ellis never got cranky, no matter what, and while I soothed Molly, he sat and watched us with sleep-swollen eyes in his usual solemn way. When we got down to the kitchen, Buzzard had fixed bowls of ice cream for all of us, and with the kitchen still feeling so hot, it was most welcome.

While we were eating and Buzzard was putting the remaining pecan pie in the refrigerator, I got started right in to asking about the Circle of Jesus.

“How come you all have such strange-sounding names?” was my first question.

Buzzard came and sat down with us, a big glass of iced tea in front of her.

“Well, we started the Circle close to forty years ago,” she said. “And we all took special names for the Circle—kind of like I’ve heard nuns do. Only we get to pick out our own.”

“You can have any name you like?”

“Sure. Long as it’s something out of the Bible.”

“How come you picked ‘Sister Feed-My-Sheep’?” was my next question, and the minute I asked it, I knew I had touched on something truly serious about Buzzard. She waited a long moment before she answered:

“I’d been hearing those words in my mind for years and years—ever since I was just a little thing,” she explained. “So when I picked my Circle name, that’s what I picked.”

“Where is that in the Bible?” I asked.

“The Gospel According to John,” she answered, and the way she let those words roll out so gentle and slow, it was like she kissed each word as she said it. And she continued in the same way as she told the story of the Bible: “Jesus was talking to Simon and Peter and He’d already asked him twice if Peter loved Him. And poor old Peter had answered yes twice before. But Jesus asked one more time, and when Peter had assured Him, Jesus said, ‘Feed
 . . .
my
 . . .
sheep.’ It just stuck with me all these years. Why, I’ll bet I wasn’t more than four or five years old the first time I heard that, and it was always like the words had been written just for me.” The whole time Buzzard was answering my question, I was watching her as she watched Molly and Little Ellis spooning cold ice cream into their mouths. All of a sudden, I understood why Buzzard would do such a big favor for us, taking us in when we had nowhere to run to!

“You’re feeding us!” I yelped. Molly and Little Ellis both jumped a little, at the sudden loudness of my voice. But Buzzard just studied my face and slowly nodded.

“There’s more to feeding folks than just giving them food,” she said finally. “But I sure do like the giving food part. Why, early mornings when I’m making up a pan full of biscuits, and I know how much you all enjoy them—it’s the most wonderful feeling! And speaking of food, we’ll all have us the rest of that good cold tuna salad for supper tonight. And some of my yeast rolls.”

“That sounds good,” I said, but at the same time I was wondering what name I would give myself, did I ever get to be in a group like the Circle of Jesus. And like a flash, I thought about seeing Jesus in Aunt Bett’s church, and my mama dancing along beside him. So I knew right then and there that my name would be Sister Up-from-the-Grave-He-Arose. I smiled at the thought of it.

Buzzard must have been thinking about the Sisters of the Circle of Jesus again, because she added, “We used to have a Sister In-My-Father’s-House, but she’s in her Father’s house now.” She was just as solemn-sounding as she could be, and I don’t know why on earth it struck me as so funny! Maybe it was because I was thinking of myself as Sister Up-from-the-Grave-He-Arose. Or something. I almost laughed out loud! But I stopped myself and tried to make my face as serious as Buzzard’s. Then Buzzard nodded her head up and down a few times and added, “We used to have a Sister Sweet-By-and-By
 . . .
” I waited, knowing what was probably coming and trying to prepare myself for it. “But she’s in the sweet by and by now.” I had to bite the inside of my lip to stop myself from laughing. But I sure didn’t fool Buzzard for a minute.

“You think that’s funny?” she asked in a terrible whisper.

“No,” I lied, suddenly afraid of her anger. Crystal had asked me to keep things as nice as possible, so Buzzard would let us stay, and here I had gone and maybe messed up everything for us! I looked down at the tablecloth. Buzzard was as still as a statue, and I could feel my eyes being drawn to hers. Finally, I couldn’t stop them from rising.

But what I saw in her face wasn’t anger at all. It was
 . . .
a sad kind of love, maybe.

“I’m sorry.” The words fell out of my mouth, and I didn’t even know they were there.

“And I forgive you,” she said right away. “Mostly because it’s the first time I’ve ever seen you come close to laughing. Two whole days you’ve been here
 . . .
” She paused and let her eyes sweep over Molly and Little Ellis and me. “Two whole days and not a single laugh.”

“I never thought about that,” I said. And that was the honest-to-goodness truth. “Maybe we’re just all solemn folks,” I added.

When Crystal came home,
I wanted to tell her about the Sisters of the Circle of Jesus, but somehow, I knew I couldn’t tell it the way it really was. For one thing, I couldn’t remember all those strange names, except for Sister Blood-of-the-Lamb, that tiny old lady. And too, Crystal looked to me as if she was carrying around all she could handle. All day long, while she’d been at work, cutting, shampooing, curling, and drying people’s hair, I’d been having a good time. It didn’t seem fair. So I made up my mind right then and there that I would start trying to make things as easy for Crystal as I could. And that meant not telling her about how much fun I was having.