3. James and Chastity
Lady’s barking merged into the cough and rattle of his ancient Chevy block. He killed the engine expectantly but we two stayed seated. Chastity has learned from me the art of signaling to a man that she will brook no inconvenience on his behalf. She took a stick from the old pitch pine I had chopped up and nudged the kindling.
Saw the smoke clear down the road, said James, ambling over. Figured on behalf of the Cocke County Volunteer Fire Department I’d better check it out.
A smile spread out on his rutted face.
No, James’ repartee has not gotten any shaper since the days we took those long car rides with him to see Memphis preachers give sermons to big packed auditoriums. Nothing about James has gotten edgier or clearer and he has uttered this same one-liner about the fire department several times before. Sometimes now I have a long conversation with James and a day or so later I will see him at Donna’s store and he will proceed to initiate the exact same conversation. Sometimes I remind him: Of course, James, we spoke of this the other day, and he will say, Why, yes, I suppose we did, without seeming the slightest bit befuddled or convinced.
I fetched James a spot of that apple moonshine which I keep only for him because for my taste it is far too sweet. He talked to me and Chastity as he always does, about rainfall and fears of washed out bridges, about teachers at Chastity’s school that have long since died or retired, or retired and then died, but that will teach on in his memory forever.
When Chastity had gotten up to get him some more moonshine he started rocking again, slowly and I knew just what was coming.
How’s things with Trevor, he began uncertainly.
You mean with William? I asked back.
Trevor was two--technically three--Williams ago.
Why yes, he said. How’s things with William?
They’re fine, I said. We’re quite well. Thank you for asking.
He nodded. Chance cackled from the coup, then the little leghorn called Henry cackled too. Then a crow cawed from up in the tallest
hem-lock. Lady barked once from inside the house.
Well, he began again. He stopped his rocking and leaned his rocking chair forward, with his hand cupped to his ear.
Well hark, what’s that I hear a-ringin’? Is that wedding bells in Pilgrim Congregational?
He grinned and leaned toward me.
I don’t hear a thing, I said, except a very bad doggie and some equally misbehaving birds.
Come now, he said, we both know that you need a man ‘round here.
A man around here, I asked disingenuously. For what?
Chastity sat back down and gave James his moonshine. James took the shine but he didn’t seem to notice it or her.
For what, he repeated my question indignantly. Well, what if your septic system’s broke?
Well, then I’ll call a plumber in to fix it.
Well what if one of them big ol’ hemlocks drops a dead branch down right on top of your roof?
Hmmm, I said. Now that’s a fair question.
Chastity was listening intently. She poked the fire and it roared up in her eyes.
You see that piece of stump that Chastity is sitting on? Well I suppose I would do the same as I did to that sick old pitch pine that was drooping over the outhouse. I’d cut it down with a chainsaw and make it into firewood like this wood we’re burning, and make some pieces of it into chairs like that one that’s holding Chastity.
Chastity cackled, and Chanticleer cackled.
I never let James have the upper hand in front of Chastity.
James just shook his head. He only made that look which you gave a name to once, that Jacob look of his, like he’s grappling with something mighty.