AFTER DINNER CONVERSATION
VIGGY PARR HAMPTON
finally swallowed and said, “Eh. Okay.” Wiping his hands on his shorts, Dale followed his wife as she piloted them towards the singing that grew ever louder not just because they were getting closer, but because more people were joining in. When they got close enough to hear the words, parting shrubbery as they passed out of the clearing, they realized the song was a well-worn hymn that Tina learned in Sunday School. She thought about adding her voice to the melee, but decided against it—she wasn’t a woman of God anymore, so it seemed phony. They walked hand in hand along a rocky path through the scruffy forest until they came to a large grassy clearing. In the middle, a gleaming white tent spilling over with people sat like a beacon. “Huh,” Dale said, giving her hand a squeeze. “What is that?” “Some sort of church service?” “You ever been to a church service in the middle of a field?” In fact, Tina had. Once, as a girl, she’d visited her grandmother in McKinney, Texas, the same week a traveling preacher happened to alight in the small town. He’d brought his entire entourage, and they’d erected a tent not unlike the one they now stood before, calling God’s children to hear the Word of the Lord. Grandmother had taken little Tina, dressed in her Sunday best, and sat in the second row—only because she was a half second too late to nab the coveted first row spots. The preacher, whose name had been Morris, started softly, speaking of God’s love for all man and his capacity for forgiveness, but as he picked up steam and warmed to his audience, his voice rose higher, louder, as he spoke of God’s similarly colossal capacity for vengeance against sinners and fornicators. To protect ourselves, he’d said, we must expunge the devil from our lives! Tina didn’t like to revisit what happened next—when she thought about it at all, the experience came in flashes: slippery snakes slithering over her new patent leather shoes, a man who happened to be the town FEBRUARY 2021
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Vol. 2, No. 2