The Widow's Choice (3 page)

“Well, it won’t be. Back to work tomorrow for me.” Truman laughed and ruffled Zac’s hair.

As usual, after the boys were in bed and had quieted down, Truman and Alona lay side by side in their own bed, discussing the events of the day. The windows were open, admitting what little hot breeze there was.

“I think the boys are right,” Truman said. “It’d be nice if every day was a vacation day like this, but tomorrow it’s back to work.”

Alona wanted to beg him to forget about the higher-paying explosives job, to tell him that they could do without the money, but she knew he took great pride in providing for
his family, so she held her tongue. Nonetheless, she couldn’t shake her fears for his safety.

For a long time they lay there talking quietly, and finally he rolled over and asked, “What about that reward you promised me this morning?” He reached over and pulled her against him.

She felt the strength of his long, lean body. “That was if you won,” she teased, playfully pushing him away.

But Truman Jennings held her tightly. “Come on, now. Don’t be mean.”

“Well, all right. I suppose you deserve a consolation prize at least.” She put her arms around his neck and kissed him firmly on the lips. His arms closed strongly around her, and she clung to him tightly, praying that he’d be with her forever.

CHAPTER TWO

Wish on a Star

The glow of the Fourth of July celebration was still on the Jennings family as they arrived at church the following Sunday. True enough, although Truman’s team had lost the game, the boys had been thrilled and never ceased talking about how easily their dad had disposed of the big man with the obnoxious boy. Zachary had told the story multiple times, each retelling more dramatic than the last. Even now as they approached the entrance to the church, he was telling his friend Dave the story. “ . . . and
bam!
My dad popped that big sucker right in the bread basket! You should’ve seen him, Dave! His mouth opened up and he fell over backward and laid there like an ol’ whale rollin’ around!”

“That’s enough of that, Zac,” Alona said. “I don’t want to hear any more about that fight.”

“Fight!” Truman said with mock surprise. “Why, that wasn’t no fight, sweetheart. If it had been a fight, he’d still be there on the ground. I just gave him a little love tap. And you seen me help him up.”

“Yeah, and you heard what he said, Mom,” Zac said, his eyes shining. “I bet it’ll be a long time before he sticks his big nose into somebody else’s business.”

“That’s enough. Go with your dad now and behave yourself in Sunday school.”

“Don’t I always?” Zac said with a hurt look.

“No, you don’t,” Tim said. “You’re always askin’ fool questions.”

“I don’t either ask fool questions! If I ask a question about the Bible, it’s important.”

“Important! The last time Dad was teaching about Jonah and the whale you asked how much the whale weighed.”

“Well, that’s important!” Zac said stubbornly. “If he’s big enough to swallow ol’ Jonah, he’d have to weigh a heap.”

“Come on, boys. We can fight about Jonah and the whale later.” Truman grinned and winked at Alona. “I don’t know if I ever teach these boys anything. They spend most of their time arguing.”

“They learn a lot, Truman.” Alona smiled. “Don’t let them dominate the class—especially Zac.”

Truman pulled Zac away as he tried to launch into an argument with his mother on that issue. Truman taught the elementary-age boys, and though Carl was younger than the other children in the class, he had convinced his dad that he was not about to be in any “baby” class when he could be with him.

Alona went at once to the nursery, where she found the pastor’s wife already busy changing diapers. “Let me help you with that, Betty.”

Betty Hodges, a slight brunette with two boys of her own, shook her head. “We’re going to have to have help. We have every crib full this morning.”

“Well, that’s good. We’ll put them two to a crib if we have to.”

As the two women worked together efficiently, Betty remarked, “I can’t tell you, Alona, how much my husband and I appreciate you and your family.”

Alona looked up with surprise. She had just finished pinning a diaper on a chubby baby, and she picked him up and held him over her shoulder after guarding it first with a diaper. “Why, it’s been our blessing to be here, your husband such a fine preacher and all. I wish he was preaching at the revival next month.”

“Charles thinks that since our congregation hears him all the time, it’s good to have an evangelist in.”

“He won’t preach as good as Brother Charles, that’s for sure.”

Betty laughed. “I wish everybody was as supportive of my husband as you are.”

“Well, they should be!”

Alona served her time in the nursery during the Sunday school hour, then was relieved by Elaine Simmons, who insisted, “You’ve missed every sermon the past three Sundays. Now, you go listen to it.”

“Well, I probably need it, Elaine.”

She left the nursery and made her way to her family in the church. The service had already started, but she spotted them midway down on the center aisle. She stepped in the pew next to her husband, picked up the hymnal, and began singing “The Old Rugged Cross.” She had a beautiful voice and had been urged to sing in the choir, which she had done for a time, but now she divided her time between serving in the nursery and singing in the choir.

She loved the old hymns, and as they sang, she felt her heart lifted up with thanksgiving. Glancing at her boys and her husband, she breathed a prayer. “Lord, I thank you for giving me such a fine family.”

After the offering and the choir anthem, Brother Charles got up and preached for half an hour. As good a preacher as he was, there were some folks who got nervous if the sermon went past noon, so the minister always did his best to finish on time. When he gave the invitation, no one came forward to give their lives to Christ. Brother Charles looked disappointed as always, and after he’d dismissed the congregation, he moved to the back to shake hands with people as they filed out the door.

“That was a pretty good sermon, Preacher,” Truman said. “Why don’t you give me next Sunday’s sermon, and I’ll polish it up for you and improve on it.”

Brother Charles laughed, for Truman always said something like this. “I’m sure you could, Truman, but I guess I’ll have to struggle along on my own.”

As the Jennings family headed down the church steps, Truman said, “I came to a decision during that sermon.”

“Was it something about the sermon?” Alona asked.

“Yes, I guess it was. He was talking about making decisions, so I decided we ought to go on a picnic today.”

“Truman, you’re crazy!” she said. “What a thing to say!”

“What’s wrong with that? A man’s supposed to take care of his family, so I’ve decided to take us all on a picnic. Let’s stop at home and get some sandwich fixin’s and our swimsuits, and then maybe we can swing by the grocery store and get a watermelon.”

“Well, I don’t think you heard a word of the sermon,” Alona said, not able to restrain a smile. “But a picnic would be nice.”

****

The boys splashed in the cool river, yelling like wild animals. They were wearing shorts, and Alona watched as Truman joined them wearing a two-piece swimming suit. Their collie, Buddy, sat close beside her. He had worn himself out chasing squirrels, and now she reached over and hugged him. “Buddy, won’t you ever learn you can’t catch a squirrel?”

The dog barked and licked her ear.

Alona watched with a smile on her face as Truman picked the boys up one at a time and threw them high into the air, letting them splash back into the river. After they grew tired of that game, Truman led them to a tree with a long vine that hung over the river, and they swung on it like monkeys. When Truman’s turn came again, instead of swinging on the vine, he climbed into the tree and dove into the river. It was a familiar sight, but it still made Alona nervous. She knew Truman would dive from the top of the Washington Monument if he had a chance, but now the boys were copying
him and climbing the tree to dive off from higher and higher branches. Zac, like his father, would probably have gone to the top, but Truman told the boy to stay a little lower. Tim was more cautious. He was not the daring type, and Truman had to urge him to climb a little higher.

Carl took just one dive and then trudged through the water to sit on the shore beside Alona. He threw his arm around the dog and gave him a squeeze.

“Don’t you want to swim anymore, Carl?” Alona asked.

“Hootie doesn’t want to swim.”

“Well, why don’t you leave Hootie with me, and you go swim with your brothers.”

“He likes to be with me all the time.”

Alona merely smiled at this. Carl’s imaginary friend troubled Truman, but it did not bother Alona in the least. When she was Carl’s age, she’d had an imaginary friend named Delores, but she’d grown out of it, as she knew Carl certainly would too.

Carl watched as his dad and brothers switched from diving to seeing who could make the biggest splash with a cannonball. “Hootie, you stay here,” Carl instructed. “I’m gonna go make a huge splash off that third limb.”

“Be careful, Carl.”

“I’m always careful, Mom. You look out for Hootie.”

“Oh, I’ll take good care of Hootie.”

****

That night Alona fixed what she called a Depression supper. The main dish was a chicken potpie, and the dessert was something she called Depression pudding. She mixed up butter, sugar, jam, flour, and milk with a few other ingredients and then baked it. When it was done, she heated up a sauce of brown sugar, water, and cinnamon and served it over the pudding.

One good thing about having hungry boys and a hungry husband was no matter what you fed them, they devoured it
as if it were the best food in the world. Alona enjoyed their time together at the supper table, where it was always lively. Her boys were so different from one another. Sometimes they seemed to have been born to different parents. Ten-year-old Tim was very sensitive and interested in artistic things; Zac was fearless, tough, and determined to be a great athlete like his father; and Carl was inquisitive and good at taking things apart, even at the age of six. The kitchen seemed to resound with their arguments and laughter, and afterward they all pitched in to wash the dishes and straighten up the kitchen.

“Let’s go listen to the radio,” Tim said after the last dish was put away.

“Yes, I want to listen to the
Hit Parade,
” Alona said.

“Shoot, Mom.
Jack Armstrong
is gonna be on and after that
The Shadow!
” Tim exclaimed.

The radio was always a matter of argument. Carl liked
Little Orphan Annie,
which the older boys disdained. They preferred
The Shadow,
and they went around imitating the program. “ ‘Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?’“ they would say slowly in their most sinister voices. “ ‘The Shadow knows,’“ they would answer and then imitate the ghostly laughter that emanated from the radio.

Everyone settled in to listen to the programs and then Truman turned the radio off. “Okay, we’re gonna have our devotional time.” The boys at once ran to get their Bibles. Truman and Alona had given each of the boys a Bible for their fifth birthday, complete with his name engraved on the front. It gave Alona a sense of pride as she saw her boys settle down around her husband on the rather dilapidated couch. Truman opened his Bible and said, “We’re going to read one of the psalms tonight. This is about the time that David was running away from his son Absalom. It was about the worst time in his life. You fellows find the third psalm.”

He waited through all the page turning, and finally he said, “You remember that Sunday school lesson a while back when we learned about how David’s own son rose up against him?
Well, this is that time when he was running from Absalom. Let’s read it. ‘Lord, how are they increased that trouble me! many are they that rise up against me. Many there be which say of my soul, There is no help for him in God. Selah.’ ”

“Dad, what does
Selah
mean?” Tim asked.

“I don’t know. It must be important, though. It’s in the Bible.” Truman shrugged. “So, never mind that. The next verse says, ‘But thou, O Lord, art a shield for me; my glory, and the lifter up of mine head. I cried unto the Lord with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill. Selah.’

“Now what do you reckon that poor David felt like? He had been a king, but now his own son was trying to kill him, and he’s on the run. What do you reckon he did?”

“I guess he ran some more, didn’t he, after he said this prayer?” Carl offered.

“No, wrong guess. Look at the next verse. He says, ‘I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the Lord sustained me.’ ”

Truman looked up and shook his head with admiration. “There’s a fellow that’s facing death, and what did he do? Why, he prayed, and he asked the Lord to help him, and then he just laid down and went to sleep. Now, that’s what I call faith. And that’s the kind of faith I want you boys to have. Faith like your mama’s got.”

“What about the raincrow summer, Dad?” Carl asked. “Me and Hootie heard you talking about how bad stuff was coming when all the crows come.”

“Ah, there’s nothing to that! Ask your mom. She’s like David—not afraid of anything.”

“Well, I don’t quite have David’s faith,” Alona said quickly.

“Don’t pay any attention to her. Your mama’s got more faith than any ten men I know of.” Truman held out his hands and the boys put their hands in his. Alona pulled her chair closer to add her hands to the mix. “We’re gonna pray that you boys will always believe in God no matter what happens.”

The prayer that followed was simple, but Alona’s eyes were wet with tears as she heard her husband praying words of
praise for her. She hugged each one of the boys after the prayer, and they went off to bed. As soon as they were gone, Truman said, “Let’s go sit on the porch awhile. I’m not sleepy.”

“I’m not either.”

“Good. I want to sit beside a good-lookin’ woman for a while and look up at the stars.”