Read Bound by Blood and Brimstone for Free Online Page B

and pinched me, her signal to sit up
    and stop squirming. On the stage, a couple of elders were strapping on their guitars, a sure sign
    service was about to start.
    The music was deafening and off-key, but feet stomped and hands clapped, reaching
    upward. Heads bobbed and shook. As I watched, Dancing Shirley stepped out into the aisle and
    began to spin, overcome with the Holy Ghost. Her long hair whipped and swirled, her feet
    pounding the plank floor. Shouts of “Praise the Lord” surrounded her as she worked herself into
    a frenzied sweat.
    When the music lulled, someone began to pray aloud. A multitude of others joined in,
    many of them speaking in unknown tongues. Some cried and groaned. Some jerked. Some fell to
    the floor in the Spirit.
    The noise rose and swelled about me, and I leaned over to glance at Daddy. He was
    standing, head bowed and eyes shut, his hands clasped behind his back, lips moving in private
    prayer, serene in the midst of chaos.
    The last hour was devoted to the sermon. As Reese Watkins took the stage people
    scooted to the edge of their seats, preparing to be edified. Once he revved up, Reese was like a
    caged lion pacing its perimeter. At appropriate intervals, he’d stop pacing long enough to hop up
    and down. His grumbling voice rose to a roar of fearsome volume before easing into a rhythmic
    drone.
    As he paced, he wiped sweat from his brow, slicking sandy hair back from his bland face.
    Reese was stoutly built, broad through his shoulders, with a thick neck and fleshy hands. His one
    outstanding feature was his right eye. It lacked life or light and had the unfortunate tendency to
    drift in its socket.
    “Brothers and sisters,” he intoned, his voice rising again. “The devil and his angels are
    waiting in that lake of fire that burns for all eternity, waiting to snatch those of you who stumble
    in this walk of life.” Louder and louder he roared as the packed room rebounded with
    “Hallelujahs.”
    I turned my mind inward, tuning him out. Reese’s favorite topic was hellfire and
    damnation. By the time service concluded, I didn’t feel edified at all.
    Before the church yard was cleared, Momma had shoved us to the jeep in a mad dash to
    get home so she could help Wonnie finish dinner preparations. The preacher had been invited.
    To be more precise, he’d invited himself. An important matter was to be discussed, and I wasn’t
    looking forward to an afternoon spent indoors in my starched dress, listening to adults.
    Back home in the kitchen I asked Momma if she and Wonnie needed help getting dinner
    on the table. Wonnie was making her venison stew with fresh herbs and gritted cornbread. She
    stood at the stove over a steaming pot, her thick hair slung over one shoulder in a single braid of
    black and white.
    Even after nearly a century of living, she moved with an easy grace. The skin of her face
    and hands was brown and sun-weathered, but not shriveled. Her vision was still clear, her mind,
    sharp and full. She wore a strand of beads at her throat and a blouse as blue as the October sky. I
    walked over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
    “Umm, that smells so good, Grandma,” I said, inhaling appreciatively. “I’m starving.”
    She turned from the bubbling pot, favoring me with her steady gaze. “Running Deer,” she
    said softly, a reference to the childhood nickname she’d given me. “Set the table, child.” Then,
    giving my arm a gentle squeeze, she turned her attention once again to the stove.
    When Reese finally got around to the point of his visit, we were on second helpings.
    “You know, William, I’ve been around these parts for quite a while now. Long enough to
    understand the natives, you might say.” This ended with an attempt at a smile which didn’t quite
    make it. The corners of his mouth jerked up, but none of it reached his eyes.
    He cleared his throat. “One thing I’ve learned...” He trailed off, casting an uneasy glance
    in Momma’s