Thinking about differences also made Goose think about Captain Cal Remington. He didn’t like the thoughts that came to his mind or the knowledge that whatever was going on in Sanliurfa was pulling them apart.
EPILOGUE
Church of the Word
Marbury, Alabama
Local Time 1847 Hours
Delroy Harte drove the tractor through the dense undergrowth that had filled the acreage behind the Church of the Word. A small stream still ran through it, and he’d uncovered most of it with the brush-hog attachment. Here and there, lines in the earth showed where it had once been tilled. He remembered picking snap beans and sugar peas with his mother, waiting till the strawberries ripened in May and June, digging potatoes and sweet potatoes and onions with his daddy to put into the root cellar.
He found the frayed gray rope of what might have been a tire swing. He’d even found the pitcher’s mound his daddy had made almost fifty years ago when he’d taught Delroy how to throw and catch and bat.
While mowing, Delroy imagined the voices and laughter of dozens, maybe even hundreds, of baseball games played in the back of the field as part of the church functions, and—a lot of times—just when a bunch of kids had gathered with their bats and gloves. When someone had gotten a new baseball, all shiny and white, that usually guaranteed a game that day.
Delroy guessed there were at least a million memories of his family and growing up here, and as he mowed, he also mined them. He’d even brought Terrence out to this field a few times to pitch and hit, but it just hadn’t been the same. Delroy had kept looking for his daddy, thinking how grand it would have been if they could have all played baseball together.
Maybe some other time, he thought. God willing, there will be a time when we can all play together.
He took out more of the undergrowth, pleased with the ripsaw sound of the brush hog as it brought civilization back into the neighborhood. Other members of the congregation had offered to do the work, but Delroy wanted to do it himself, wanted to feel how it was to work the land again. He had accepted the loan of a pair of bib overalls because he didn’t have any.
Several members of the congregation still labored on the church, cleaning and painting and retooling woodwork that hadn’t been touched in years. A group of them had even started sanding the pews down one by one, then putting new lacquer on them.
As he backed the tractor up, Delroy saw Glenda standing only a short distance away. She carried a big picnic basket under her arm.
Delroy had to smile. The wooden picnic basket had been one of their first extravagances as a married couple.
He switched off the engine, sat with his arms wrapped around the steering wheel, and looked at her. She still had the power to take his breath away.
Glenda shaded her eyes. “Hey, sailor. Looking for a good time?”
“Oh, and listen to you,” Delroy said with a grin. “All that brave talk from way over there.”
“I’m not walking out there in all those brambles. I don’t have to.”
“And why not?”
“Because I’ve got fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, green beans, and buttermilk rolls in this basket.”
“It’s tempting,” Delroy said.
“Better than that,” Glenda said. “It’s homemade. So is the deepdish apple pie I made for dessert. I also made a jug of tea, sweet and dark, with some fresh lemon.”
“That’ll close the deal.” Delroy climbed down from the tractor, surprised at how stiff he’d gotten from just a few hours of work. He crossed over to her and gave her a brief hug.
Even though she’d come to the revival yesterday and stayed late at the church, Delroy spent the night again at the Purcell home. After nearly five years of absence, more than the times they’d been apart while he’d been at sea, Delroy knew they were going to have to move slowly to rekindle everything they’d once had.
If that was even possible.
After five years of being more or less alone, both of them had changed in some ways, grown more independent.
Phyllis, however, had been willing to bet they’d be back together before another six months were gone. But she didn’t know that what Delroy planned would put even more strain on an already strained relationship.
“Where do you want to sit?” Glenda asked.
“I found the old stream again,” Delroy said.
Together, they walked toward it and found a comfortable shaded spot. Evening was starting to stretch the shadows long and thin.
Glenda wore slacks and a blouse, but she’d brought a sweater against the evening’s chill.
Delroy helped her spread out the red-and-white-checked blanket, then put out the food. They ate and talked about the memories they shared, about Terrence, and even a little about the things that had happened in the past five years.
But they stayed away from the topic of the future. That subject was still too unsettling, and that was before any of the threats of the Tribulation were thrown in.
Until Glenda looked at Delroy, while he was taking his time with the deep-dish apple pie, and said, “You’re not staying, are you?”
Delroy finished chewing the bite he had, giving himself a little more time to think about how handle that question.
“You don’t have to beat around the bush, Delroy,” Glenda said. “I knew that you couldn’t stay here. Not yet anyway.”
“No, ma’am,” Delroy said. “I’ve still got a ship out there that’s wrapped up in a war.” He hesitated. “I’ve got to wrap up some things before I try taking on anything new.”
Glenda drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “I’m not going to act like I’m not disappointed.”
“I figured you’d be more relieved to find out,” Delroy said.
Glenda laughed. “Maybe there’s a little of that too.” She looked sad. “It’s been such a long time since it’s been just you and me.”
“I know.”
