Free Nazareth's Song by Patricia Hickman

into the yard between the parsonage and church. Jeb could not tell by Gracie’s stride if he came bearing good news or bad. Before reaching the back door of the church, Gracie caught his eye and gestured for Jeb to meet them all outside. He excused himself through the clusters of restless women.
    Gracie smiled at Jeb. “They agreed to consider you as their minister.”
    Jeb repeated the words “agreed to consider” and then read the worst into its context.
    Horace Mills’s fingers came to his lips as though accustomed to nursing a cigar. He never made eye contact with Jeb.
    “Can you tell if they want me or not?” asked Jeb.
    “Trust in God,” said Will Honeysack. He looked more worried about Gracie than Jeb right now.
    While the men disbursed to collect their kith and kin, Horace said so no one else could hear, “I hope you know I keep close tabs on these matters. I don’t throw my money away on lost causes.”
    Jeb watched him meet up with his wife and Winona. Winona smiled better than her daddy.

6
    T he old Long house had a strange kind of Saturday pall. The week had flown past, each day another day closer to Gracie’s eventual departure. While the minister still fluctuated on his departure date, he reminded Jeb daily of his pending obligation.
    Jeb studied for the sermon he would preach the Sunday after tomorrow. The week had passed without too much gossip reaching his ears. But even as he felt the calm tide of his coming responsibility settling into place, Angel had not stopped rattling his cage over how everyone in town knew him to be something other than a man of the cloth. Her words followed on his heels like the scent of skunk.
    With only one more week left to prepare, the afternoon crept over him like an invasion of grasshoppers silently eating away the day. Tomorrow afternoon, he and Gracie would pore over his message and remove the weak spots. But it seemed to Jeb the whole sermon buckled in the middle like the old bridge over Millwood Creek. He gave up and went inside.
    The Foley bunch had invited Willie to a picture show downtown, leaving Ida May to pout alone on the front porch. Angel waited at the kitchen entry, holding her most recent letter from Little Rock. Jeb finally said, “Letter from Aunt Kate?”
    “Momma’s not well.”
    “At least she finally told you, Angel.”
    “She’s in the nervous hospital. Wonder why they call it that. Like we’s all going to believe they’s all these nervous people sitting around waiting to do somethin’ like get called up to sing in church or some such. Instead, that’s where they put a body whose house don’t go all the way to the roof, if you catch my drift. Aunt Kate says Momma mentioned my name not long ago and that
encouraged
her. Mentioned my name? What’s that supposed to mean anyway, like she just happened to think about me? Besides, this just proves Aunt Kate’s not been telling me everything. If I was there, I’d give her a piece of my mind.”
    “That’d be punishment enough.” Jeb escaped to his room, only to have Angel follow.
    “Who are you to poke fun, anyway? Somebody’s got to get sick or die to make space for you.”
    “You act like I don’t have plans for the future, Angel, like I’m still drifting around. But I got big plans. Jeb Nubey’s moving up in the world. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re jealous.”
    “Jealous? That’s a big laugh. You’re still nothing but a stray cat hanging on the screen door of life, Jeb Nubey! Last time I checked, nobody’s jealous of strays.”
    Anxious to change the subject, Jeb splashed some cologne he’d splurged on at the Woolworth’s onto his hands and then his neck. “You’re not dragging me into another of your fights, Biggest. I got better fish to fry.”
    She sniffed. “That would explain the smell. I’ve smelt cow patties less potent. What’s that you’re slapping on, anyway?”
    “I’ll have you know this men’s smellum is sold even in Hot Springs. You