A Land More Kind Than Home Read Free

Chambliss must’ve had some kind of premonition about my business because when he saw me he stopped what he was doing and looked at me, and then he handed his crate over to Ponder.
    â€œWould you carry this inside for me, Phil?” he asked. “I’m going to stay out here and visit with Sister Adelaide for a bit.” He slammed the gate on the truck bed, and Ponder nodded his head and smiled at me and walked on inside the church. Chambliss dusted off his hands and walked over to where I was standing by my car. “You’re here awfully early,” he said. His eyes narrowed to keep out the sun, and then he lifted his good hand to shield them from the light. His face was ruddy and weathered like most men’s faces up here who’ve spent too much time working in the sun or smoking too many cigarettes, or maybe both.
    â€œI wanted to get here early because I need to talk to you about some things,” I said.
    â€œWhat things?”
    â€œAbout what all has happened,” I said. My voice was shaking, but I tried my best to hide it because I didn’t want him knowing I was scared of crossing him. “I want to talk to you about what happened to Molly last Sunday.”
    â€œWhat do you need to talk about?” he asked me. “You were there. You saw it. She stepped out in faith, and the Lord took her home.”
    â€œBut it ain’t right,” I said. “It ain’t right what y’all did to her.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘It ain’t right’?”
    â€œIt ain’t right what you done with her after church,” I said. “Taking her home and laying her out there in the yard and just leaving her, hoping somebody would find her before the animals started eating at her. People got a right to know about these things.”
    â€œWhat people?” he said. “Everybody who really loved her, everybody she loved, they all know what happened.” He pointed at the church. “They were all right inside this church when it happened. Nobody else deserves to know anything more than that. Besides us, nobody in this world needs to know anything at all. It ain’t going to do her a lick of good, and trouble is all it’s going to bring us.” He dropped his hand from his eyes and squinted against the sun.
    â€œFolks talk,” I said. “Especially in a town like Marshall, especially about a church like this. Putting up newspaper so they can’t see inside ain’t going to keep them from talking.”
    â€œWell,” he said, “I trust the folks of my congregation to know who needs talking to and who don’t. But if you got any ideas about taking our business outside this church, then I think you’d better tell me now. I need to know that I can trust members of my congregation with the Lord’s work.”
    â€œThat’s fine,” I said, “because I can’t be a part of this no more.”
    â€œWhat do you plan on doing?” he asked.
    â€œI can’t be a part of this no more,” I said again. “I’m leaving the church, and I want to take the children with me.”
    He smiled and just stood there looking at me like he was going to laugh in my face.
    â€œIs that right,” he said. “You’re just going to take the children out of my church and teach them in your own way, teach them your own beliefs. What do you think gives you the right to do that?”
    â€œBefore the hospital got built I delivered just about every child that ever stepped foot inside this church,” I said. “And I delivered just about all their mamas and daddies, too. I ain’t claiming to be in charge of their spirits, but I have a job to see them safely through this world after bringing them into it. And I can tell you this ain’t no place for children to be,” I said. “It just ain’t safe.”
    â€œSister Adelaide,” he said, “I’ve been pastoring