Read Online A Rhinestone Button by Gail Anderson-Dargatz - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gail Anderson-Dargatz
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strapping.”
“What for?”
“You know what for. If you’d told me about that fire you set in the field, I wouldn’t have to strap you.”
“Yeah, right.” He didn’t try to deny he’d set the fire, or give his father any more lip. He slid from the table and went to his room, slammed the door behind him.
Grace sat on Job’s feet, hoping for a handout. “I got a letter from that girl who phoned into the radio show,” said Job. “Debbie? She sent her photo.” Job slid the photograph across the table to Jacob.
“That’s no way to meet a girl,” said Lilith. “It’s embarrassing. What are you going to tell people when they ask how you met? ‘I was so desperate I bought an ad to find a wife’?”
“It wasn’t an ad.”
“Why don’t you go to Bible school?” said Lilith. “Find yourself a girl there.”
“
Bridal
school,” said Job. “I don’t see how that’s any better than meeting a girl through ‘Loveline.’ The only reason girls go is to find a husband.”
“Worked for me,” said Jacob. He winked at Lilith, but she turned and stood to clear away the cups and plates.
“Anyway, I’m too old for Bible school,” said Job.
“Now what’s the matter with that cat?” said Lilith, pointing at Job’s feet. “She been into some catnip?”
Job looked down at Grace rubbing her chops over his feet. He had in fact sprinkled a little dry catnip into his socks earlier in the day, afraid of losing the cat’s affections to Ben or his brother or, worse yet, to Lilith. He scratched Grace’s neck. “She just misses me,” he said, and blushed at the lie.How small and sad his life was. Living in a shack, arranging dates over the radio, buying the affections of his cat. He felt at once overwhelmingly sorry for himself.
Jacob picked up the photo of Debbie Biggs. “Huh.” He slid the photo back across the table to Job. “I got a call this afternoon from Pastor Jack Divine. He’s agreed to come down for the revival Saturday.”
“
The
Pastor Divine?” Jack Divine hosted an hour-long Sunday program on a local Edmonton radio station. “How’d you pull that off?” he asked Jacob.
“You know we were at Bible college together,” said Jacob. “I gave him a call, to let him know I was back in the area. We had lunch and I asked him to swing by our revival, as a personal favour. You should have seen Stinky Steinke. He was thrilled.” Jacob rubbed his fingers together in the sign for money. Then he slapped his knees. “Well, I better get to it.” He limped to Ben’s bedroom, pulling off his belt.
Job listened for the first slap of leather on skin, and Ben’s cry. A brief burst of radiating red lines, followed by a flash of white light. He stared up at the plaque that his mother had hung above the stove many years before, words from Proverbs surrounded by wild rose blossoms:
A gentle answer turns away wrath
. Job stood to rifle through the kitchen cupboards, anything to keep his hands busy. He was sorry Jacob was strapping the boy. But there it was, a father’s prerogative. Abe had given Job the strap for each and every one of the fires he set, using a piece of leather horse harness hung by the fridge. Abe had waited a few minutes after telling Job he was giving him the strap, so he wouldn’t strap while angry. “Hitting in anger’s a beating,” he told Job. “I don’t give beatings. I’m not a violent man. My dad was a violent man.”
Job’s grandfather had been a little man, though he refused to believe it. He had married a woman nearly a foot taller than him, and wore clothes meant for a much larger man. As Abe told the story, his father went into the general store to order shirts, instructing the clerk to bring in size forty-two. The clerk sized him up and without saying anything, ordered the size Grandpa Sunstrum really needed—thirty-six. The shirts arrived, and Grandpa Sunstrum tried them on in the store, triumphantly declaring them the best fitting shirts he’d ever
“What for?”
“You know what for. If you’d told me about that fire you set in the field, I wouldn’t have to strap you.”
“Yeah, right.” He didn’t try to deny he’d set the fire, or give his father any more lip. He slid from the table and went to his room, slammed the door behind him.
Grace sat on Job’s feet, hoping for a handout. “I got a letter from that girl who phoned into the radio show,” said Job. “Debbie? She sent her photo.” Job slid the photograph across the table to Jacob.
“That’s no way to meet a girl,” said Lilith. “It’s embarrassing. What are you going to tell people when they ask how you met? ‘I was so desperate I bought an ad to find a wife’?”
“It wasn’t an ad.”
“Why don’t you go to Bible school?” said Lilith. “Find yourself a girl there.”
“
Bridal
school,” said Job. “I don’t see how that’s any better than meeting a girl through ‘Loveline.’ The only reason girls go is to find a husband.”
“Worked for me,” said Jacob. He winked at Lilith, but she turned and stood to clear away the cups and plates.
“Anyway, I’m too old for Bible school,” said Job.
“Now what’s the matter with that cat?” said Lilith, pointing at Job’s feet. “She been into some catnip?”
Job looked down at Grace rubbing her chops over his feet. He had in fact sprinkled a little dry catnip into his socks earlier in the day, afraid of losing the cat’s affections to Ben or his brother or, worse yet, to Lilith. He scratched Grace’s neck. “She just misses me,” he said, and blushed at the lie.How small and sad his life was. Living in a shack, arranging dates over the radio, buying the affections of his cat. He felt at once overwhelmingly sorry for himself.
Jacob picked up the photo of Debbie Biggs. “Huh.” He slid the photo back across the table to Job. “I got a call this afternoon from Pastor Jack Divine. He’s agreed to come down for the revival Saturday.”
“
The
Pastor Divine?” Jack Divine hosted an hour-long Sunday program on a local Edmonton radio station. “How’d you pull that off?” he asked Jacob.
“You know we were at Bible college together,” said Jacob. “I gave him a call, to let him know I was back in the area. We had lunch and I asked him to swing by our revival, as a personal favour. You should have seen Stinky Steinke. He was thrilled.” Jacob rubbed his fingers together in the sign for money. Then he slapped his knees. “Well, I better get to it.” He limped to Ben’s bedroom, pulling off his belt.
Job listened for the first slap of leather on skin, and Ben’s cry. A brief burst of radiating red lines, followed by a flash of white light. He stared up at the plaque that his mother had hung above the stove many years before, words from Proverbs surrounded by wild rose blossoms:
A gentle answer turns away wrath
. Job stood to rifle through the kitchen cupboards, anything to keep his hands busy. He was sorry Jacob was strapping the boy. But there it was, a father’s prerogative. Abe had given Job the strap for each and every one of the fires he set, using a piece of leather horse harness hung by the fridge. Abe had waited a few minutes after telling Job he was giving him the strap, so he wouldn’t strap while angry. “Hitting in anger’s a beating,” he told Job. “I don’t give beatings. I’m not a violent man. My dad was a violent man.”
Job’s grandfather had been a little man, though he refused to believe it. He had married a woman nearly a foot taller than him, and wore clothes meant for a much larger man. As Abe told the story, his father went into the general store to order shirts, instructing the clerk to bring in size forty-two. The clerk sized him up and without saying anything, ordered the size Grandpa Sunstrum really needed—thirty-six. The shirts arrived, and Grandpa Sunstrum tried them on in the store, triumphantly declaring them the best fitting shirts he’d ever
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