CHAPTER 1
JAMIE AND THE PREACHER
I felt excited, as though something important was going to happen. I looked up the road hoping to see Lucy Ives and Rick Danforth drive by. Lucy is my best friend, and Rick, her boyfriend, is the spoiled son of the leading family in our little wide space in the road, Somerset. Being leading family in our little stretch of the road isn’t saying much, but they have money and that’s the reason Rick has a new ‘98 Chevy.
The thought occurred to me that we might skip the church picnic and go riding in the country and let the wind blow our hair. Might even see one of my boyfriends. Then Mama yelled at me through her bedroom window. “Jamey, pluck me one of those gardenias. I’m all out of cologne.”
I don’t think Mama’s out of cologne. She just wants an excuse to wear a flower in her hair. She’s a pretty woman, when she isn’t yelling, and she always wants to smell real good. I bent over to pluck an especially pretty bud for her.
That’s when she came to the front door. “Jamie Marie Perkins,” she screeched, “I declare if those shorts aren’t trashy. Looks like you don’t have a thing on underneath. Go change. Put on a dress to meet the new preacher.”
“Mama, it’s a picnic. Nothing wrong with shorts at a picnic. Besides, I‘d feel silly wearing a dress.”
“For pity sakes, wouldn’t have to be fancy with all those petticoats. Just something simple and decent.”
Mama emphasized something decent. I had known that she wouldn’t like my shorts, ‘cause she goes to church all the time, and they don’t allow pants on women. Besides, the picnic isn’t in the church. It’s outside under the trees. I didn’t care what they all thought of me. I think they’re a bunch of hypocrites anyway. Always gossiping, saying one thing and doing another. She could just go to the picnic alone, if she didn’t like what I had on.
Mama burst out the screen door fanning with her church fan, the one with a picture of Jesus getting baptized and a dove flying around. She lugged her heavy Mexican leather purse, big as a suitcase, on her shoulder. “It’s hot,” she said, “but if we walk slow, maybe we can cool off before we get there.” She stared at me. “Well, you little tramp. I told you to change clothes, and for God’s sakes, wipe that red lipstick off your mouth before we set foot any further.”
“Mama, I’m fifteen. I oughta be allowed to wear what I want. I like red lipstick.”
She shoved a bowl of green beans wrapped in a dishtowel at me and said, “Here, hold this.” Then she shifted her purse around to her back, grabbed my chin and wiped off my lipstick with her handkerchief. “I asked you to look nice, seeing how we’ll meet the new preacher tonight. Least you could have done is wear a skirt and blouse. And dammit, pull your shirt out so it’ll cover your crotch.”
I never look right to Mama. I touched the hurt where she grabbed my chin. “Leave me alone, or I’m not going. Besides, pulling my shirt out will look trashy, worsen my lipstick.”
Mama, wearing high heel sandals, trudged ahead of me down the path toward the church. Sweat already circled under the arms of her polyester silk dress. She ranted on. “You’ll make me an old woman before my time. Can’t you be pleasant and do what I ask you once-in-awhile?”
I didn’t answer and we walked on without saying anything for a minute. Finally I said, ”I heard tell he was young.”
“You mean The Reverend James T. Newton? Well, I hope he’s not too young. I want someone that’s got something between the ears besides wavy hair.”
When we arrived, the church yard was crowded with people lined up under the oak trees waiting to fill their plates. I got in line while Mama set the green beans down with the other vegetables people had brought to the picnic. When we got to the food table, I piled potatoes and fried chicken onto my plate. I was hungry and wanted to finish eating before I met this Reverend Brother James T. Newton.
“Mama, I can't imagine any preacher other than the one that you said had been at our church before I was born.”
“Shh, Jamie. Watch what you say.”
“Well,” I whispered, “I don’t know whether to like him or not.”
All my years there had been just one preacher, except for those traveling ones who showed up for revival meetings. They’d yell and preach hell and damnation, making me feel like a condemned sinner, and I hadn’t even lived yet, except a little bit.
Mama said, "Twenty years is too long to have just one minister. They stop visiting people except the sick ones and the ones that can't go to church ‘cause they’re homebound."
I tried tuning her out while she repeated the same sermon I'd heard before. She wouldn’t miss a Sunday in church, but sometimes I wondered if it was to see what she could complain about.
I saw Lucy and Rick drive up and waved at them. I headed toward them so we could sit in the same group, but Mama called me back and said, “I want us to sit together, Jamie, because then we can meet the preacher as a family.”
I wanted to remind her that we’re not a whole family. Papa, or Roy as I call him since he’s really my stepdad, made excuses for not coming to the church whether it was Sundays or fellowships suppers. Mama always fixed him a plate to take home though. I figured he could just do without if he couldn't come to the suppers.
Mama kept talking about the old preacher. "I always say a preacher ought to call on all the members at least once a year. But they just stop coming when they've been there too long."
"They did come to see you in the hospital and say a prayer. Remember that time you almost died with a perforated colon? The preacher and his wife came then."
“Like I said, they visit when a person’s so ill in bed she can’t raise her head and talk.” She took a look at my plate and said, “My Lord, Jamie, did you leave any food on the table for the other folks? That’s no way to impress the new preacher.”
“Mama! Leave me alone.” I had just taken a big bite of potatoes chased down by a greasy hunk of fried chicken and couldn't have said a word if the good Lord himself had sat down beside me, when I heard a commotion over by the volley ball court. A man in blue jeans and striped knit golf shirt spiked a ball over the net, but someone on the other team saved it and scored. They all laughed and headed for the shade.
I was wondering who the new guy was when he came straight to our table. He spoke with a deep voice and said, "Hello, I'm Jim Newton."
Mama wiped her hands on a paper napkin and said, "Preacher, I'm Willie Jo Perkins. This here's my daughter, Jamey. She's in the ninth grade and makes real good grades."
I could have crawled under the table. Mama is always bragging to other people about my age and grades.
He shook Mama's hand and reached for mine. I froze for a minute. Then the strangest feeling came over me. Something about his voice and the way he looked at me curled the hair on my arms. He had the sweetest smile. He looked right into my eyes, like he'd known me all my life and knew all the bad things I had ever done or thought of doing. Like French kissing Robert Freeley in the church parking lot one night after church. Or letting Jace Dulaney feel me up that time we went riding in his dad's car. He had his arm around me as I helped steer the car. It was so much fun, since I’d never driven before. The wind blew my hair, and I was laughing with the thrill of adventure. All of a sudden his hand dropped and stayed on my breast. We didn’t do anything bad, but I remembered the feeling.
I couldn't say anything to the new preacher because I was chewing on the chicken. Hoping I didn’t have any caught between my teeth or potatoes in the corners of my mouth. I looked into his clear blue eyes and I think I grinned like a possum. But I hoped he could see a little something of the good in me.
Lucy ran over to our table and started talking to him, pushing her long red hair away from her face and batting her dark brown eyes. The preacher acted just as nice to her as he did to me. I wished she hadn’t come over ‘cause she’s prettier than me, and I had fallen in love instantly.
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