Written with the Wind for Windier Readers!
Baptizing Water
by Kathy Warnes
My Ma wanted to keep me on the straight and narrow bridle path, so she made me ride to Epworth League. In our small Texas town, Union Grove by name, Epworth happens on Sunday evenings at 7:00 at Union Grove Methodist Church, Carmody Charles Collins, pastor.
Ma didn’t know that a few Sundays when I was supposedly at Epworth I was really down at the race track behind Grearson’s Livery Stable racing my shaggy pony Oscar against Black Bart, the fastest horse in town. Black Bart belonged to Jack Harris, the fastest man in town. Jack was the fastest talker, the fastest runner ( on foot) and the faster spitter. He could even out spit me, which was a stretch. At 12, I could spit across Arkansas Creek, the one that runs right next to the church. No one has ever been able to do that, except me and Jack.
My fast spitting got me in trouble last Sunday night, though. I was spitting in the direction of the creek just for practice when Reverend Collins walked right into my bulls eyes. His price for silence? I had to come back to Epworth for the next two months or he’d tell mother. The Reverend told me this with a smile, pulling on his gray beard. Oscar agreed with me that we’d better lay low for a few months until the spit had evaporated from Reverend Collin’s beard and his memory.
So one Sunday night around seven, Oscar and me headed through the scrub pine woods behind our house on the way to town and Epworth. We stopped at the end of a dusty dirt road at a ramshackle wooden shack. I gave our special whistle and Aubrey, my best friend, came running out. He scrambled up behind me on Oscar, digging in with his knees.
“You gonna wait outside the church for me, Aubrey? We can go fishing. Or we can get baptized to make us blood brothers. Or Jack’s gonna race Black Bart again tonight.”
“I’ll wait for you, Tom. But if my Mama catches me I’ll get whomped for sure. She’s saying to me that I can’t be seen around with you anymore.”
I stared at him. “Why not, Aubrey?”
He didn’t answer for so long I thought he fell asleep. He was scowling. “You know,” he said. He wouldn’t look at me. The sun rested low in the sky and sent faint gleams of light across his chocolate brown skin.
“I don’t know, Aubrey. She didn’t find out about my spitting on the Reverend, did she?”
“Naw, she didn’t find out about that.”
“Then what?”
“We ain’t the same, Tom.”
I scowled over my shoulder at him. “Gee Aubrey, I thought we were both boys.”
“Our skin color ain’t the same, Tom.”
“So what? Didn’t we cut our wrists and get to be blood brothers when we wuz just nine? Aren’t we gonna get baptized together tonight to make it real official? What more does she want, Aubrey?”
”She wants me to be white or you to be brown.”
“Come off it Aubrey!”
“Tonight’s our last riding nit, Tom.”
“Not unless I say so.”
“They’ll hurt us if we don’t stop riding together.”
“Who?”
“The Night Riders.”
“Aubrey, Pa’s a judge! He won’t let anybody hurt us. And your Ma takes care of our house and cooks for us. He ain’t gonna let anything happen to her either.”
Aubrey didn’t say anything. He just looked at me with eyes as softly brown as his skin. But when I looked into them I saw a gleam of something I didn’t understand. Aubrey got into the world more than I did then. All I wanted to do was race Oscar, spit, and stare at Mary Alice Gordon coming out of the candy store. I still wasn’t sure if I liked her or the gumdrops she always carried.
“What have the Night Riders got to do with me and you having fun?”
“You’ll see,” he said. “Word says they’ll be out tonight.”
“Who’s word, Aubrey?”
“Folks.” Aubrey wouldn’t look at me. He just stared at his bare feet slapping against Oscar’s sides. “Tom, let’s go fishing.”
“We can’t go fishing now, Aubrey. We gotta go get baptized. Then I’m gonna go to Epworth.”
“I already got my church going in for today. Mama didn’t want to go out of the house tonight. Says the Night Riders are comin.”
“How does she know, Aubrey?”
“Don’t know how she knows. Ask her.”
I dug my knees into Oscar’s ribs and turned him around. Aubrey didn’t say nothing. He knew where I was going. We came up to his house in a cloud of dust and I was off Oscar’s back before Aubrey could sneeze. I ran up the dirt path that led to his door. It hung on rusty hinges and squeaked as I pushed it open.
“Hilda!” I shouted. “Hilda, I got to ask you a question.”
She came rushing out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her flour sack apron. “What’s wrong, Tom? “ She looked terrified. “Something’s happen to Aubrey. Lord, protect my baby!”
Aubrey’s out front getting’ off of Oscar. I got to ask you a question, Hilda.”
“What you want to ask me?”
“How do you know the Night Riders are coming?”
“I know. Now get along. You and Aubrey get along to wherever you were going. And pray.”
“We got some important business. Then I gotta go to Epworth. Can Aubrey come with me?”
She flapped her apron at us. “Get outta here, both of you.”
We got. I grabbed Aubrey and shoved him ahead of me back onto Oscar. We lit out of there, Oscar at a gallop. We didn’t slow down until we got to Culligan’s woods. That’s a piece of timber that stretches behind the church for a good three miles or so. There’s scrub pines in there and some oak and lots of brush. Ever so often I go in and cut the brush from the paths so I can ride Oscar in there. I headed him down one of my favorite paths now. It started out wide on a flat stretch of ground with tall grass. Then it started to climb the hill and narrowed down to barely passing room. Aubrey and me could see the steeple of the Union Grove Methodist Church at the top of the hill as we climbed up the path. Then the tree frogs stopped peeping and the birds cut off their songs. Somebody or something was coming.
“Listen,” I hissed at Aubrey.
I stopped Oscar in his tracks and all three of us listened. We heard twigs cracking and the jingle of spurs. Some riders were coming. I didn’t sit there in the middle of the path waiting for them. I eased Oscar behind a flowering gush and Aubrey and me hunched down as low as we could on his back.
Right in front of us, so close we could have shaken hands with them, paraded a line of figures on horses. They had on sheets with holes cut for eyes, but on most of them cowboy boots with scuffed toes stuck out from under the sheets. I didn’t even look at all of those men in sheets. I knew they wuz men because they didn’t smell like women. I just looked at their horses. It was like a road map to the town telephone book. That horse belongs to Amos J.____, the undertaker. That one belongs to George____, the banker. There’s Jack the horse who belongs to Charley from Charley’s groceries, and that horse belongs to Leo___, a teacher at the high school.
Then I spotted two more and I didn’t care if the riders heard me or not. I dug Oscar in the ribs and we galloped out of there. We galloped all of the way back to Aubrey’s house.
“I gotta see Mam. Gotta see Mam,” Aubrey said over and over like a prayer.
His Mam knelt praying in front of the smoldering ashes that had been their home. Aubrey slid off Oscar and ran over to his Mama. He hugged her and they cried together.
I said a prayer too, because I had seen a gray beard when the wind moved the sheet from the face of one of the riders. I watched that rider shave in the bathroom mirror every morning.
I cried. Then I rode Oscar right into them ashes and pulled Aubrey and his Mama up on his back. Oscar headed us back to my horse and the Union Grove Methodist Church.
Next night, the night after the night riders, me and Aubrey got baptized together in the creek. We hurried it up a little because his Mama was waiting back at the burnt house for us. I hauled up the bucket of creek water, baptizing water now, and we headed back to Aubrey’s house. We’re gonna baptize the house with the water too. Then we’re gonna start rebuilding it.
My Ma wanted to keep me on the straight and narrow bridle path, so she made me ride to Epworth League. In our small Texas town, Union Grove by name, Epworth happens on Sunday evenings at 7:00 at Union Grove Methodist Church, Carmody Charles Collins, pastor.
Ma didn’t know that a few Sundays when I was supposedly at Epworth I was really down at the race track behind Grearson’s Livery Stable racing my shaggy pony Oscar against Black Bart, the fastest horse in town. Black Bart belonged to Jack Harris, the fastest man in town. Jack was the fastest talker, the fastest runner ( on foot) and the faster spitter. He could even out spit me, which was a stretch. At 12, I could spit across Arkansas Creek, the one that runs right next to the church. No one has ever been able to do that, except me and Jack.
My fast spitting got me in trouble last Sunday night, though. I was spitting in the direction of the creek just for practice when Reverend Collins walked right into my bulls eyes. His price for silence? I had to come back to Epworth for the next two months or he’d tell mother. The Reverend told me this with a smile, pulling on his gray beard. Oscar agreed with me that we’d better lay low for a few months until the spit had evaporated from Reverend Collin’s beard and his memory.
So one Sunday night around seven, Oscar and me headed through the scrub pine woods behind our house on the way to town and Epworth. We stopped at the end of a dusty dirt road at a ramshackle wooden shack. I gave our special whistle and Aubrey, my best friend, came running out. He scrambled up behind me on Oscar, digging in with his knees.
“You gonna wait outside the church for me, Aubrey? We can go fishing. Or we can get baptized to make us blood brothers. Or Jack’s gonna race Black Bart again tonight.”
“I’ll wait for you, Tom. But if my Mama catches me I’ll get whomped for sure. She’s saying to me that I can’t be seen around with you anymore.”
I stared at him. “Why not, Aubrey?”
He didn’t answer for so long I thought he fell asleep. He was scowling. “You know,” he said. He wouldn’t look at me. The sun rested low in the sky and sent faint gleams of light across his chocolate brown skin.
“I don’t know, Aubrey. She didn’t find out about my spitting on the Reverend, did she?”
“Naw, she didn’t find out about that.”
“Then what?”
“We ain’t the same, Tom.”
I scowled over my shoulder at him. “Gee Aubrey, I thought we were both boys.”
“Our skin color ain’t the same, Tom.”
“So what? Didn’t we cut our wrists and get to be blood brothers when we wuz just nine? Aren’t we gonna get baptized together tonight to make it real official? What more does she want, Aubrey?”
”She wants me to be white or you to be brown.”
“Come off it Aubrey!”
“Tonight’s our last riding nit, Tom.”
“Not unless I say so.”
“They’ll hurt us if we don’t stop riding together.”
“Who?”
“The Night Riders.”
“Aubrey, Pa’s a judge! He won’t let anybody hurt us. And your Ma takes care of our house and cooks for us. He ain’t gonna let anything happen to her either.”
Aubrey didn’t say anything. He just looked at me with eyes as softly brown as his skin. But when I looked into them I saw a gleam of something I didn’t understand. Aubrey got into the world more than I did then. All I wanted to do was race Oscar, spit, and stare at Mary Alice Gordon coming out of the candy store. I still wasn’t sure if I liked her or the gumdrops she always carried.
“What have the Night Riders got to do with me and you having fun?”
“You’ll see,” he said. “Word says they’ll be out tonight.”
“Who’s word, Aubrey?”
“Folks.” Aubrey wouldn’t look at me. He just stared at his bare feet slapping against Oscar’s sides. “Tom, let’s go fishing.”
“We can’t go fishing now, Aubrey. We gotta go get baptized. Then I’m gonna go to Epworth.”
“I already got my church going in for today. Mama didn’t want to go out of the house tonight. Says the Night Riders are comin.”
“How does she know, Aubrey?”
“Don’t know how she knows. Ask her.”
I dug my knees into Oscar’s ribs and turned him around. Aubrey didn’t say nothing. He knew where I was going. We came up to his house in a cloud of dust and I was off Oscar’s back before Aubrey could sneeze. I ran up the dirt path that led to his door. It hung on rusty hinges and squeaked as I pushed it open.
“Hilda!” I shouted. “Hilda, I got to ask you a question.”
She came rushing out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her flour sack apron. “What’s wrong, Tom? “ She looked terrified. “Something’s happen to Aubrey. Lord, protect my baby!”
Aubrey’s out front getting’ off of Oscar. I got to ask you a question, Hilda.”
“What you want to ask me?”
“How do you know the Night Riders are coming?”
“I know. Now get along. You and Aubrey get along to wherever you were going. And pray.”
“We got some important business. Then I gotta go to Epworth. Can Aubrey come with me?”
She flapped her apron at us. “Get outta here, both of you.”
We got. I grabbed Aubrey and shoved him ahead of me back onto Oscar. We lit out of there, Oscar at a gallop. We didn’t slow down until we got to Culligan’s woods. That’s a piece of timber that stretches behind the church for a good three miles or so. There’s scrub pines in there and some oak and lots of brush. Ever so often I go in and cut the brush from the paths so I can ride Oscar in there. I headed him down one of my favorite paths now. It started out wide on a flat stretch of ground with tall grass. Then it started to climb the hill and narrowed down to barely passing room. Aubrey and me could see the steeple of the Union Grove Methodist Church at the top of the hill as we climbed up the path. Then the tree frogs stopped peeping and the birds cut off their songs. Somebody or something was coming.
“Listen,” I hissed at Aubrey.
I stopped Oscar in his tracks and all three of us listened. We heard twigs cracking and the jingle of spurs. Some riders were coming. I didn’t sit there in the middle of the path waiting for them. I eased Oscar behind a flowering gush and Aubrey and me hunched down as low as we could on his back.
Right in front of us, so close we could have shaken hands with them, paraded a line of figures on horses. They had on sheets with holes cut for eyes, but on most of them cowboy boots with scuffed toes stuck out from under the sheets. I didn’t even look at all of those men in sheets. I knew they wuz men because they didn’t smell like women. I just looked at their horses. It was like a road map to the town telephone book. That horse belongs to Amos J.____, the undertaker. That one belongs to George____, the banker. There’s Jack the horse who belongs to Charley from Charley’s groceries, and that horse belongs to Leo___, a teacher at the high school.
Then I spotted two more and I didn’t care if the riders heard me or not. I dug Oscar in the ribs and we galloped out of there. We galloped all of the way back to Aubrey’s house.
“I gotta see Mam. Gotta see Mam,” Aubrey said over and over like a prayer.
His Mam knelt praying in front of the smoldering ashes that had been their home. Aubrey slid off Oscar and ran over to his Mama. He hugged her and they cried together.
I said a prayer too, because I had seen a gray beard when the wind moved the sheet from the face of one of the riders. I watched that rider shave in the bathroom mirror every morning.
I cried. Then I rode Oscar right into them ashes and pulled Aubrey and his Mama up on his back. Oscar headed us back to my horse and the Union Grove Methodist Church.
Next night, the night after the night riders, me and Aubrey got baptized together in the creek. We hurried it up a little because his Mama was waiting back at the burnt house for us. I hauled up the bucket of creek water, baptizing water now, and we headed back to Aubrey’s house. We’re gonna baptize the house with the water too. Then we’re gonna start rebuilding it.