Benediction

He looked at them for a moment longer. Then he turned from the pulpit and crossed the dais to the side door and was gone. The congregation glanced around at one another. Finally an old lame woman stood up and came out of her pew and started toward the back. They watched her. She stopped midway. That’s it, she said. Don’t you see? It’s no point to sit in here waiting for nothing. The rest of you can sit here all you want. I never expected to see such a thing in church in my life. I never hope to see it again. She hobbled slowly back up the aisle past the usher standing at the back and went out.

Then it was just quiet again. Then Lyle’s wife rose from her pew and walked down to the front of the church and turned at the communion rail to face the congregation. She looked tired but still attractive in a nicely tailored summer dress. I came down here to say something, she said. I felt I should make some kind of amends here this morning. After what my husband said last week and what he did just now. She stopped. Except I don’t know what to say. Why it should be me to say some conciliatory apologetic thing, I don’t know. I haven’t done anything wrong. It wasn’t me. She stopped again, turning slowly to look at them. I only know I’ve had enough. I’m saying this publicly, I’m worn out. This is very similar to what happened in Denver. People thought he was wrong then too. Now he’s wrong again and people have turned against him once more and it’s no surprise that they have. So I’m going to leave. That’s what I see I will have to do. I must save myself at least, and my son.

No. You should support him, Willa Johnson said. She and Alene were sitting not far from her.

What did you say? Are you talking to me?

You should stay here and help him. This is your place. I thought that was what you came forward to tell us. I was thinking, good for you, I was thinking that you were brave, more than I knew.

No. Don’t you see? That’s not it. What can you know? How can you understand what it’s been like for me?

I don’t care what it’s been like for you. You’re his wife. Your place is with him.

Have you ever been married?

Yes, of course. I was married for a long time. This is my daughter here with me.

All right, Lyle’s wife said. I will admit that he has principles. I am aware of that. I used to admire him for his principles and his generous intentions. But what good are they, finally? You can’t eat them. You can’t depend on them. There’s no security in principles.

You should be proud of him, Willa said. So few of us have the beliefs he has. And fewer still act on them.

Then the boy John Wesley stood up in the middle of the sanctuary, where he’d been sitting in embarrassment staring at the floor, his face in his hands. Now he was angry. Shut up! he shouted. Shut up! You don’t know anything, you stupid old woman! Be quiet! Leave my mother alone.

Then, as on the previous Sunday, the usher came hurrying down the aisle. Stop it! We won’t have this again! We had it once, but we won’t again. This is the church.

You shut up too! the boy cried. All of you! Everyone stop talking! Leave us alone! And he turned out of the pew and ran back up the aisle and out the big doors.

They watched him, in shock and amazement, and then they turned once more to look at Lyle’s wife. She appeared to be crying now—her hands over her face. She started to move slowly, gropingly up the aisle, her head lowered, following her son, then near the back of the church she dropped her hands and began to hurry and she rushed out. The usher came all the way down to the front. He looked all around. What should I do with these? He held up the church bulletins.

Never mind, Willa said. We don’t need them anymore, Wayne.

We got so many, he said.

Yes, she said. Thank you for taking care of them. Maybe you’d better shut up the church now.

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