'Can you stay on the line while I see if he's in the office?' she asked.
'Yes ma'am.'
While I waited on hold, I listened to classical music. It was a Bach organ concerto, composed to the glory of the God, whose laws the world now tried to ignore. It was a moment of musical irony. Ms. Patrick returned.
'I mentioned your dilemma to Zach. He thinks you should definitely be at the luncheon on Monday and offered to solve your religious objection by meeting you at Mrs. Fairmont's house on Sunday to unload the furniture for you. He also suggested that you read a verse from the New Testament about an ox falling in a ditch on the Sabbath and the owner pulling it out. I wrote down the reference-Luke 14:5.'
'Is he also willing to load the truck in Athens?' I asked, chafing at the young lawyer's advice. 'My ox is in two ditches at once.'
'He didn't mention it. Do you want me to connect you to him?'
'No ma'am. I'm sorry. It's nice of him to offer to help.'
'Zach is a fine young man and an excellent lawyer. There's no pretense with him.'
'I'll call my father and get his advice. He's the one who will be helping me move. Oh, and please don't mention this to Mr. Carpenter. I wouldn't want to trouble him.'
'I can't promise confidentiality,' Ms. Patrick responded stiffly. 'Everything related to personnel issues is an open topic for the partners. That's a part of my job.'
'Yes ma'am. I understand. I'll call back later today.'
I ended the call. People who didn't want to honor the Sabbath used Luke 14:5 as an excuse for just about any activity. I phoned home. Mama answered.
'Is Daddy still there?' I asked.
'Yes, I'll get him.'
'We're both here,' Mama said after a few moments.
I told them about my conversation with Ms. Patrick, leaving out Zach Mays. Daddy spoke.
'We prayed about the situation last night and this morning,' he said. 'Your mother and I both agree that this is a Luke 14:5 situation. The ox represents your livelihood, and now that you tell us about the Monday luncheon, it's clear you need to be there. If the only way to make sure that happens is for us to move your things on Sunday, then that's what we'll do. I'll be at your apartment by ten in the morning. Try to have all your boxes ready by sundown on Saturday.'
'Yes sir,' I mumbled.
'What?' Mama asked.
'Thank you,' I said. 'See you then.'
10
WHEN DADDY ARRIVED, I THREW OPEN THE DOOR OF THE apartment and ran out to greet him before he turned off the motor. I threw my arms around his neck as soon as his feet touched the asphalt.
'Well, that's a nice welcome,' he said.
'It's good to see you, Daddy,' I said. 'Sorry about what I'm putting you through.'
He kissed the top of my head in the usual spot.
'Don't mention it again. Let's get your ox out of the ditch and load him on the truck.'
All the stuff going to Powell Station was loaded in the front of the truck. To the rear was the furniture I would use in Mrs. Fairmont's basement apartment, my summer clothes, pots, pans, and dishes, toiletries, and books to occupy my free time in the evenings. Daddy's foot was bothering him, so I jumped in and out of the truck to arrange the load. When we finished, Daddy tied a blue tarp over the top of the pile and lashed it down.
'There's a chance of rain this afternoon as we get near the coast,' he said.
WE LEFT TOWN and followed the same route I'd taken to Savannah. Being with Daddy, my spirits lifted. I liked riding with him in Kyle's truck ten times better than driving an expensive convertible with the top down. As we rolled along, I asked question after question about the family.
'Bobby starts at the chicken plant tomorrow,' Daddy said.
'Is he going to be an eviscerator?'
'No, it wouldn't be good to throw him in with all those ladies. He's going to work on the loading dock.'
'Coming in or going out?'
Dealing with frozen dead birds in cardboard cartons was much easier than the noise and stench of the live ones in wire-mesh crates.
'Coming in,' Daddy replied.
Kyle's truck didn't have air-conditioning, and the late spring air blowing through the window was warm. I brushed a strand of hair from my face and returned it to the ponytail behind my head. I looked at Daddy. He was a relaxed driver, not stressed by the responsibilities of being on the road. Before he met Mama, he worked for a couple of years as a long-distance truck driver.
'What was it like driving across the country?' I asked.
'I liked it. But once I got married, I didn't want to be away from your mama for weeks at a time. Then when you came along, I had to come home every night and plant a new kiss on top of your head.'
'What did you do about driving on Sunday?'
'My partner did it. He was a Seventh-Day Adventist. I drove on Saturday; he drove on Sunday. It worked out good for both of us.'
'Did you ever go to California?'
'Los Angeles.'
'What was it like?'
'Oh, the land out there is dry but green where they irrigate. It made me think about the verses in the Bible where the desert blooms like a rose. It's a fragile place. Unless people pipe in water, not much can live there. There are trees up in the mountains, but no forests on the flats.'
'What about the city?'
He shrugged. 'Every truck terminal is the same whether it's in Omaha or L.A. I couldn't tell you much about Los Angeles except that once it started it never seemed to stop. I never made it all the way to the Pacific. We'd drop a load, eat a steak at a truck stop, and head back.'
I stared out the window. Trees had always been part of the landscape of my world. I wondered if there were trees where Zach Mays' family lived.
'One of the attorneys at the firm in Savannah is from Los Angeles,' I said.
'How did he get to Georgia?'
'I'm not sure.'
We stopped for gas.
'Do you want me to drive?' I asked.
Daddy stretched and rubbed the back of his neck. 'That would be nice. I talk about being a long-distance truck driver, but those days are long gone.'
The gears on Kyle's truck grated when I started off. Once I reached highway speed, Daddy leaned against the door frame and went to sleep. His ability to catch a nap at a moment's notice amazed me. He could stretch out on a blanket beneath the poplar tree in front of the house and doze off within seconds. Flip and Ginger would see him and curl up at his feet.
A small convoy of large trucks passed us, and I thought about Daddy driving across the country. I wondered what other dreams he'd sacrificed to be home at night to kiss me on the top of the head. Like Daddy's truck-driving career, my summer job at the law firm in Savannah might be no more than a detour through Los Angeles on the way to a greater good.
Daddy didn't wake up until we were close to the coast. He sat up and blinked his eyes as we passed a mileage marker.
'Did that say twenty miles to Savannah?' he asked.
