Читать книгу Why Beulah Shot Her Pistol Inside the Baptist Church - Clayton Sullivan - Страница 6

The first thing I’m gonna’ do is tell you my name, and after I’ve told you my name I’m gonna tell you about the tub of trouble I’ve lived in for the past six years. My name’s Beulah Rainey. I live in New Jerusalem, Mississippi. There ain’t too much to New Jerusalem. If you blinked your eyes goin’ through it you’d miss it. It’s in Jones County about seven miles southwest of Laurel where they have the Masonite factory and a bunch of poultry plants. New Jerusalem has three stores, a big, consolidated school, and two churches. There’s the Methodist church. And then there’s the New Jerusalem Primitive Baptist Church. That’s the church I’ve belonged to all of my life.

Up until three days ago I was a married woman. I was Ralph Rainey’s wife. My husband’s full name was Ralph Jefferson Davis Rainey. He never talked about or used his two middle names. He always went by “Ralph.” But I ain’t his wife no more. I’m now a widow woman. That’s because three days ago Ralph upped and died on me. I wasn’t expecting him to die. But that’s sure what he done.

This morning we had Ralph’s funeral at the New Jerusalem Primitive Baptist Church and then buried him in the cemetery that’s across the road. Or at least I’m guessing they buried him. I didn’t hang around to see.

Most people think when you’ve just come back from your husband’s funeral you’re gonna be real sad and down in the dumps. You’re expected to be all teary-eyed and you’re supposed to have a lump as big as an apple in your throat. But I don’t. I’m goin’ to be honest with you. For the first time in years I’m at peace on the inside. I’m as calm as a summer’s breeze now that Ralph’s gone. I’m not sure where he’s gone but by golly he’s gone. I won’t have to mess around with him anymore. And I’m glad about what I done this morning at the end of Ralph’s funeral service. I’m sure what I done made a lot of people mad. I know I made his mama and daddy mad. I made his two brothers mad. And I made his sister who lives over in Baton Rouge mad. But I don’t care. If they don’t like what I done they can kiss my foot.

I’ve got sense enough to know a widow woman ain’t supposed to be talking the way I’m talking. But all I’m doin’ is tellin’ you what I think. Before I got married I was a Buchanan. And here in Jones County and around Laurel they say “Buchanans believe in talking straight.” Or as my daddy has always said, “Buchanans call a spade a spade.” So I’m calling a spade a spade when I tell you I’m glad Ralph’s six feet under in the cemetery. Why do I feel this way? I feel the way I do because my husband was no good. My mama told me he ain’t no good before I married him. But I didn’t believe her. Of course I believe her now. To be up front with you, my husband was a bastard. That’s exactly what he was: a bastard. And I sure oughta know. Because I was married to the bastard for six years. And don’t nobody know a man like the woman who’s married to him.

I’ll admit most of my neighbors here in New Jerusalem have the idea Ralph was a fine, upstanding man. Everybody knew he was a deacon in the Baptist church and never missed a Sunday goin’ to church. I wanted to believe he was a fine man too when I married him. After all, I’d known him all my life. The Rainey farm and my daddy’s farm ain’t but a mile apart by the way the crow flies. And my folks and the Raineys have always belonged to the same church. But after all I’ve been through with Ralph it doesn’t ring my bell that he was a big-shot deacon who led the singing and helped take up the collection every Sunday at the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. Which is where, I listened to Ralph and let him con me into marrying him.

At the time it happened I didn’t have sense enough to know a con job was being done on me. But one was. I remember exactly when and where and how it got started with me and Ralph. It started on a hot Sunday in June. The Sunday-morning worship service had just got over with. Most everybody had walked out of the church and was standing out front visiting and talking with one another. But I’d stayed inside. I’d stayed inside so I could do a little practicing on the church piano. I was sittin’ at the piano and I was playing “Onward Christian Soldiers.” Or at least I was trying to play it. “Onward Christian Soldiers” has a lot of sharps and flats and it ain’t an easy song to play. By the way, me playin’ the piano was more my daddy’s idea than mine. He always said he wanted me to be good enough at playing the piano to someday be the pianist at the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. That’s the main thing my daddy has always wanted me to be: the church’s piano player. That’s why I was taking piano lessons once a week. Every Thursday afternoon Mama would drive me seven miles up to Laurel so I could take piano lessons with Miss Hopson. Well—like I was saying—I was playing “Onward Christian Soldiers” when out of the clear blue sky Ralph walked over to the piano. Most primitive Baptist churches don’t have pianos. But our church does. It has an upright Baldwin piano. Ralph stood right next to the piano and listened to me play. He didn’t say nothing until after I’d finished the last stanza. I’ll never forget what he said when I was through. He smiled at me and said, “Beulah, you sure can play the piano good.”

When he said that I said, “Thank you, Mr. Rainey. It’s mighty nice of you to say that.” Back then—before I really knew Ralph—I always called him “Mr. Rainey.”

He then asked, “Do you by any chance know how to play ‘Sweet Hour of Prayer’?”

“Sweet Hour of Prayer” ain’t like “Onward Christian Soldiers.” It’s easy to play on the piano. It doesn’t have a lot of sharps and flats. I said, “I sure do.”

Ralph said, “I wish you’d play me a little bit of ‘Sweet Hour of Prayer.’ I love that song. They sang it at my Granddaddy’s funeral.”

So I played him a stanza of “Sweet Hour of Prayer.” When I’d finished playing it Ralph said, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard ‘Sweet Hour of Prayer’ played any prettier. You know how to make this piano sound like an angel playin’ on a harp up in heaven.”

Him saying that made me feel real proud. It made me feel like I was a lady Liberace or somebody like that. But then Ralph leaned over the piano and said something to me I wasn’t expecting him to say. He said, “Beulah, something about you has been on my mind for a long time.”

I didn’t have no idea what he had on his mind. Particularly I didn’t know what he had on his mind about me. The fact is, I didn’t know he’d been thinking about me. But I could tell Ralph was throwing his fishing line, fish hook, and fish bait toward me. So I went for the bait and I said, “What’s that Mr. Rainey?”

He said, “I wish you’d marry me.”

That’s exactly what he said. He said, “I wish you’d marry me.” He spoke them five words to me while he was standing beside the upright piano at the front of the New Jerusalem Baptist Church in New Jerusalem, Mississippi. Believe you me, when he said them five words to me you could have knocked me over with a chicken feather. Or with a wet pine straw. I bet Ralph had never spoke twenty words to me before. Yet here he was tellin’ me out of the clear blue sky that he wanted to marry me. Which I’d never even thought about doin’. For cryin’ out loud, at the time I wasn’t but sixteen years old. I still had another year to go in high school. Getting married never had crossed my mind, and it sure had never crossed my mind to marry Ralph. Or as I called him back then, “Mr. Rainey.” He was older than me. It turned out he was twenty years older than I was. I knew he’d been married before. His wife had died from a brain tumor. Her name was Ruth Ann. She’d passed away a year or two earlier in the hospital up in Laurel. And I knew he was a daddy. Ralph and Ruth Ann had a boy they named Oscar. Oscar was born without any hay in his barn. Or without all his marbles in his bag. Which explains why he lives at the Mississippi Rehabilitation Center in Ellisville. Daddy says the center used to be called the Mississippi School for the Feebleminded. But they don’t call it that no more. Instead, they’ve sweetened the name up and now they call it the Mississippi Rehabilitation Center. And that’s where Oscar stays most of the time. On Saturdays Ralph would go and get Oscar and keep him over the weekend and bring him to church on Sunday. But Oscar liked staying in Ellisville better then staying with his daddy at New Jerusalem. The only other thing I knew about Ralph was that he had a farm and owned “Ralph’s Place.” That’s his meat market and barbecue cafe in Laurel. The reason I knew Ralph owned a butcher shop and barbecue cafe is because my daddy was one of his regular customers. He was always stopping by “Ralph’s Place” and buying barbecue. I couldn’t count the times I’ve heard Daddy say, “Ralph Rainey has the best barbecue ribs in Jones County. His ribs are just as good as Letha’s in Columbia.” Letha is a colored woman who lives over near Columbia in Marion County and for years has made her living selling barbecue. Some people say she cooks the best barbecue there is. Daddy says Ralph’s barbecue is just as good if not better.

I could tell I blushed the moment Ralph leaned over the piano and said, “I wish you’d marry me.” My face turned as red as an apple at Christmas. And I got a feeling of butterflies in my stomach. The only thing I could think to say was, “Mr. Rainey, I ain’t but sixteen years old. I ain’t even out of high school.”

Maybe that was a dumb thing for me to say, but at the time, it was the only thing I could think to say. He then said, “I wish you wouldn’t call me Mr. Rainey. I wish you’d call me Ralph.” That made me feel funny too. Ralph was twice as old as me. That’s why I’d always called him “Mr. Rainey.”

Ralph kept on talking. As he was talking I was sittin’ on the piano bench and he was leaning on the piano. He laid it on heavy. Kind of whispering, he told me he’d been watching me for a long time. He said he’d been thinking about me for months. He said, “I think you’re the prettiest girl in New Jerusalem. The fact is, I think you’re the prettiest girl I ever seen.”

You’ll admit that was pouring the honey on thick. And I mean thick. Ralph tellin’ me I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen was the nicest thing anybody had ever said to me. My mama and daddy didn’t never say nothing sweet or kind like that to me. No they didn’t. All they ever done was boss me around. They’d say, “Beulah, wash the supper dishes tonight!” “Beulah, go shell some corn and feed the chickens!” Or Daddy would order me to practice my piano lessons so I could someday play “The Old Rugged Cross” and “Onward Christian Soldiers” in church. Mama and Daddy was always strict on me. They was strict because they was primitive Baptists. Which is what the New Jerusalem Baptist Church is. Don’t nobody in our church drink or dance. Dancing is a sin. And none of the women use make-up like powder or lipstick. The reason they don’t is because the Bible says you ain’t supposed to use ’em. I’m not sure where the Bible says you’re not suppose to use ’em but that’s sure what it says somewhere. That ain’t the only thing the Bible says. It also says somewhere that it’s disgraceful for a woman to cut her hair. So none of the women who belong to the New Jerusalem Baptist Church ever cut their hair. They wear it long—which is what I done—or some of ’em tie it in a knot which I done every once in a while. Brother Ledbetter is always preaching against women using make-up and cuttin’ their hair. He feels real strong about things like this. Brother Ledbetter, in case you don’t know, is the preacher at the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. Which is why people call him “Brother Ledbetter.”

Maybe it’s because I’d never cut my hair and I’d never used no powder and lipstick that I got so excited when Ralph told me I was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Back then—being just sixteen years old and having lived all my life in New Jerusalem—I didn’t have sense enough to know Ralph was settin’ me up. He was pumping me up with sweet talk like I was a circus balloon. And back than I didn’t know that what a man says with his mouth don’t always square with the way he acts. So what did I do while sittin’ on the piano bench listening to Ralph? I’ll tell you what I done. I lapped up what he said like a kitten laps up warm milk. Or like a dog gnaws on a ham bone. I couldn’t get enough. I gotta admit I was a little ticked off when Ralph—after tellin’ me over and over how pretty I was—popped me the question, “Beulah, are you a virgin?”

Somehow I felt him asking me that right there in the church was a little touchy and nosy. But I was so taken in by all he was saying that I said, “Oh yes, Mr. Rainey.”

He said, “You mean Ralph. Please remember I want you to call me Ralph.”

So I said, “Oh yes, Ralph.” That was the first time I ever called him Ralph. I think it’s kinda weird that the first time I ever called my husband by his first name was when I answered his question about me being a virgin.

He said, “I’d never marry a woman who wasn’t a virgin. I don’t want a wife some other man has fooled around with.”

I was feelin’ real awkward about Ralph askin’ me if I was a virgin. So I said, “Maybe you’d better talk to Mama and Daddy about this. I couldn’t get married unless Daddy said it was all right.”

Ralph said, “Beulah, if you want me to talk to your Mama and Daddy about you and me gettin’ married, I’ll sure talk to ’em.”

Which is exactly what he done. Ralph come by our house two days later. The night before he come he called Daddy up on the phone. He told Daddy he wanted to come over the next evening and talk to him about something real important. Daddy told him, “Sure, Ralph, come on over. I’ll be glad to talk to you.”

After Daddy had hung up the phone he turned to me and Mama and said, “That’s funny. That was Ralph Rainey. He says he wants to come by tomorrow night and talk to me about something important. I wonder what he wants to talk to me about?”

Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. Maybe I should have let Ralph handle the whole thing by himself. But I didn’t do that. I let the cat out of the bag. I looked at Daddy and said, “He wants to talk to you about me being his wife. Last Sunday after church Mr. Rainey told me he wanted to marry me.”

The moment I said that Mama let out this big groan. She sounded like a stuck pig. She made a face and said, “You’ve got to be kiddin’.”

I said, “Nope, I ain’t kiddin’. Last Sunday he told me he wanted me to be his wife, and I told him he’d have to talk it over with the two of you and get your okay.”

Daddy asked, “When did he ask you?”

I said, “Yesterday right after church. I was practicin’ the piano and he come over and stood by the piano and when I got through playin’ ‘Sweet Hour of Prayer’ he told me he wanted to marry me. That’s exactly what he said.”

Daddy said, “I’ll be damn.” Daddy don’t usually cuss. He don’t cuss unless something really gets his attention.

Mama cut bait. She said, “You marryin’ Ralph Rainey is the last thing in the world I want you to do. He ain’t no good.”

Daddy got downright huffy. He didn’t like what Mama said. Which is why he looked at her and said, “Why do you say that? He’s a deacon at the church. He leads the singin’ every Sunday. He’s the best songleader our church has ever had. What do you mean sayin’ he ain’t no good?”

Mama said, “I know he ain’t no good because of what Ruth Ann used to tell me.”

Ruth Ann, in case you’ve forgotten, was Ralph’s first wife. She’s the one who died from a brain tumor.

Mama kept on. “Ruth Ann used to get me aside and tell me Ralph wasn’t nothing but a hypocrite. She said he was a lollipop at church and at his cafe. That’s the very word she used. ‘Lollipop.’ But Ruth Ann said that around the house—when it was just him and her—he could be as mean as a rattlesnake.”

Daddy said, “I don’t believe it.”

Mama snapped right back, “Why would I make it up? For some reason which I never figured out Ruth Ann felt I was the only person she could talk to about Ralph because nobody else would believe her. She told me Ralph got so mad at her a time or two that he gave her a whippin’. One Sunday at church we went into the lady’s room and she showed me some bruises she had on her legs where ‘lollipop’ had whipped her. She told me he used his belt and that his belt felt like hot water mixed with iodine. Them bruises was big. I seen ’em with my own eyes.”

I could tell Mama and Daddy didn’t see eye to eye on what kind of man Ralph was. So I didn’t know what would happen when he came by the house to talk to them about marryin’ me. But come by he did. Like I said, he come by the house on Tuesday evening. He and Mama and Daddy sat on the front porch. Mama and Daddy sat side by side in the swing. Ralph sat in a rocking chair. Me and Earline sat down on the front steps and listened. Earline is my baby sister. That’s what we done. We didn’t talk. We just sat and listened. While we was listenin’ I give Ralph the once over. Ralph would never win a contest for bein’ the best lookin’ fellow in town. The main thing I didn’t like about him was his teeth. Ralph had buck teeth. They stuck out like a horse’s teeth stick out. His daddy and brothers have teeth that stick out too. Their teeth stickin’ out is how you can tell if somebody in Jones County is a Rainey. Everybody says they all look like horses. Of course they don’t say that to their face. They say this behind their back. There’s a lot of things people say behind your back that they don’t say to your face. My granddaddy used to say that if everybody knew what everybody else had said about ’em behind their back there wouldn’t be two friends left on the face of the earth. I expect he’s right about that.

Ralph got right down to it. He didn’t beat around the bush. He said, “Arnold, I’ve come by to tell you and Josephine I want to marry Beulah.”

Arnold is my daddy’s name and Josephine is my Mama’s name.

Ralph rattled on. “Since Ruth Ann died I’ve been mighty lonely. I don’t have nobody to talk to in the morning when I get up and I don’t have nobody to talk to in the evening when I get home. The only family I have is Oscar and you know what kind of kid he is. His roof don’t have all its shingles. Like it is now, all I do is work and work and work. I work like a Turk at my cafe and I work like a Turk on my farm with Sumrall.”

Sumrall, in case you don’t know, is an albino who works for Ralph. He lives in a shack on Ralph’s farm. I’ve heard Ralph say he’d never let a darky live on his place. But he let Sumrall live on his farm. That’s because Ralph believed an albino brings you good luck. I’ve heard him say, “An albino is a two-legged rabbit foot. Let one work on your farm and you’ll get enough rain in the summer to raise a good watermelon crop and cotton crop and corn crop.”

Ralph kept on telling Mama and Daddy about how hard he worked. He said, “I work from can to can’t. But there ought to be more to life than work. That’s why I want to get married again. I can take care of Beulah. I can take care of her real good. I ain’t sayin’ for one moment I’m a millionaire. But between the farm and the cafe and the butcher shop I make a good livin’. At least the tax commission thinks I make a good livin’ cause they’re always on my tail for more tax money.”

Ralph rolled on like the Mississippi River. He kept on talking about how lonesome he was and how he made a good livin’ and how he needed somebody to help him out. At the time I didn’t know what he meant about him needin’ somebody to help him out. I learned later what he meant by that.

Daddy took his cigar out of his mouth and said, “Ralph, this all sounds mighty good to me. If you want to marry Beulah, I’m all for it. She’ll make you a good wife.”

But Mama didn’t agree. She didn’t agree one bit. She spoke up and said, “I’ve got my doubts. Beulah’s too young to get married. She ain’t but sixteen.”

Ralph said, “Josephine, for cryin’ out loud, sixteen ain’t too young for Beulah to get married. A lot of gals here in Jones County get married by the time they’re sixteen. That’s how old Ruth Ann was when I married her.”

Mama come right back at him. She said, “Beulah ain’t got sense enough to get married. She’s smart but she’s still wet behind the ears. I think she oughta finish high school before she gets married. She ain’t got but one more year and then she’ll be through.”

Daddy didn’t see it that way. He said, “I quit school after the fifth grade and I’ve made it just fine. I’ve made a good living bein’ a welder at Masonite. If finishin’ the fifth grade was good enough for me, then I think finishin’ the eleventh grade oughta be good enough for Beulah. Just who does she think she is? The queen of England?”

Mama said, “I’ve always wanted Beulah to go to college. She makes good grades. Miss McDonald—her math teacher—stopped me one day at the meat counter in the Jitney Jungle Grocery and told me Beulah was the smartest girl she’d ever taught math to. She said that to me out of the clear blue sky. You can go from one end of Jones County to the other and you ain’t gonna find a single Buchanan who has ever went to college. I’ve always wanted Beulah to be the first Buchanan from New Jerusalem and Jones County to have a college degree. She’d make a good school teacher.”

Mama wantin’ me to go to college was news to me.

Daddy said, “That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard you say. There ain’t no need in the world for Beulah goin’ to college. She’d make a better wife than a school teacher.”

Like I told you, while Mama and Daddy and Ralph was talking about me and Ralph gettin’ married, I sat on the front steps. I didn’t say nothing. I just listened.

Mama, Daddy, and Ralph kept talking. They went back and forth. Saying the same things over and over.

Out of the clear blue sky Daddy farted. He farted a big one. It makes Mama mad when Daddy farts when we have company. She don’t say nothing about him farting when it’s just Daddy, Mama, Earline, and me. Mama said, “Arnold, what you just done is embarrassing. I’ve told you a thousand times not to fart when we have company. And Ralph here is company.”

Daddy said, “Ralph ain’t company. I’ve known Ralph Rainey all my life. Company is somebody you don’t really know.”

Daddy went on to say, “Ralph, let’s leave it like this. I’m all for you and Beulah gettin’ married. But Josephine here ain’t. I think me and Josephine need to do some more talking just between ourselves. And I think I want to pray about this. Whenever I come to a fork in the road I believe in praying about which way to go.”

Ralph said, “Arnold, that sounds good to me. And I’ll tell you what: I’ll pray about it too.”

My daddy said, “After Josephine and me has talked some more and after I’ve taken it to the Lord in prayer, I’ll get back in touch with you and let you know what I’ve decided.”

Ralph said, “I’ll be waitin’ and listening. Between you prayin’ about it and me prayin’ about it we’re bound to figure out if the Lord wants me to marry Beulah.”

With that Ralph stood up and shook hands with Daddy. He told me and Earline and Mama goodnight. “Goodnight Josephine. I wish you didn’t feel the way you do. I hope you change your mind.” He looked at me and said, “Goodnight, Beulah.” And he looked at my baby sister and said, “Goodnight, Earline.”

Ralph walked out to his Ford pickup and drove away. Every man in Jones County who can afford one has a pickup truck. Maybe a Dodge or a Ford or a GMC. They use ’em to carry feed in and to haul dogs when they’re goin’ hunting during deer season.

Mama and Daddy and Earline and me watched Ralph’s pickup drive away on the gravel road that runs in front of our house. We watched its red tail lights until it went out of sight around the bend that’s down the road.

A few moments went by and nobody said nothing.

Finally Daddy spoke. I remember to this day what he said. “Ain’t this something. Ralph Rainey has come here tonight and said to me and Mama that he wants to marry Beulah. It ain’t everyday a man like Ralph Rainey asks a woman to marry him. No sir! This don’t happen everyday. Ralph’s got property. You take his farm on the Okatoma River. I know for a fact it has five hundred acres on it. Two hundred acres are on the west side of the river, and three-hundred acres are on the east side. It’s all good river-bottom land. It’s as fertile as a cat’s ass. He bought it for a steal from Henry Lassiter’s widow. She got rid of it after Henry died so she could go live with her two boys in Birmingham. You plant corn in Okatoma River bottom land one day and the next morning you’ve got corn stalks five feet tall. Ralph’s got a real nice brick home on the place. And he has two good barns. And he’s got a goin’ meat market and barbecue cafe in Laurel. He’s bound to be makin’ money. If he wasn’t makin’ money how could he afford every year to have a new Ford pickup and a new Buick car? And besides all this, he’s a deacon at the church. Every Sunday he’s there—leading the singin’ and taking up the collection.”

After Daddy had said all of them good things about Ralph, he looked right at me and said, “Beulah, you’re one lucky gal and I don’t mean maybe.”

Quick as a flash, Mama said, “No she ain’t. Ralph Rainey ain’t no good. I’ve told you this but you won’t listen to me. Or hear me. The reason I know he ain’t no good is because of all the stuff Ruth Ann told me about him. Ruth Ann wasn’t tellin’ me no fib about him beating her up when he got mad. Ralph is like a dime. He’s got two sides. He’s got a good side and a bad side. I don’t want Beulah gettin’ mixed up with a guy like him. And besides, there’s too much difference between his age and Beulah’s. He’s twenty years older than her. And he’s got that nitwit son from his marriage to Ruth Ann. When Ralph brings Oscar to church all he does is sit on the front pew and pick his nose. Him pickin’ his nose makes me sick at my stomach.”

Daddy said, “I don’t think Oscar’s a problem. He stays most of the time at the Rehabilitation School at Ellisville.”

Mama and Daddy went around and around. Daddy was all for me marrying Ralph and Mama was dead set against it. While they was talking they didn’t say nothing to me. I’d about decided they didn’t care what I thought. Just like a farmer doesn’t care what a cow thinks when it’s being hauled to market to be butchered for meat.

But believe it or not they finally got around to asking me how I felt.

Daddy looked over at me and asked, “Beulah, what do you think about marrying Ralph?”

Daddy’s question didn’t catch me empty-handed. That’s all I’d thought about since Ralph stood beside the church piano and asked me to marry him. Should I or should I not? I didn’t care one way or the other about his farm and barbecue cafe. They didn’t mean twaddle to me. What bothered me the most about Ralph was his buck teeth which made him look like a horse. Them buck teeth I didn’t like. And I didn’t like what Mama had said about him whippin’ Ruth Ann. But a whipping is a whipping. My daddy didn’t have no guilt or brakes about givin’ me a whippin’ from time to time. When I did something he really didn’t like he’d take his belt off and go to it on my rear end. He’d say time and again, “The Bible says spare the rod and spoil the child.” Where it says that I don’t know. But Daddy says it’s in there somewhere. Which is worser? A whipping by Daddy or a whipping by Ralph? You tell me. Maybe Ralph wouldn’t never give me a whippin’ like he gave Ruth Ann. Maybe he’d changed. Maybe he’d treat me nicer. He was sweet as honey in what he said to me after I’d played “Sweet Hour of Prayer” on the church piano. He’d said, “I think you’re the prettiest girl in New Jerusalem. The fact is, I think you’re the prettiest girl I ever seen.” Them’s the sweetest words anybody had ever spoke to me. And getting married to Ralph would mean I’d no longer have to live with Mama and Daddy. That I liked. I liked it because Mama and Daddy was always sayin’ to me things like, “Beulah, clean off the table and take the dishes to the kitchen.” They’d say this to me after we’d eaten supper. Or they’d say, “Beulah, go get a broom and sweep off the front porch. It’s got leaves on it.” They treated me like I was their maid or slave. But the thing I didn’t like the most was the way Mama and Daddy held the reins so tight on me. They did this because they was Baptists and didn’t want me to sin. Daddy went out of his way to make sure I didn’t sin none. That’s why he wouldn’t let me have no dates. Charles Stogner once asked me for a date to go to the skating rink at Laurel. Daddy wouldn’t let me have a date with Charles because the skating rink has a jukebox and Daddy said where you have a jukebox you have dancing and dancing is a sin. Or you take the way he acted the time Miss Hopson, my piano teacher, wanted to take all of her piano students to a music conference at the university down in Hatttiesburg. The piano conference was gonna begin at nine o’clock in the morning and go all day long and into the night. At night they was gonna have a piano concert by a real famous piano player who was coming down to Hattiesburg all the way from Chicago. Miss Hopson wanted all of her piano students to go to the conference and she wanted all of us to have fun. So she come up with a big idea. We’d go to the conference and attend the piano concert. Then we’d all spend the night at the Holiday Inn and eat pancakes the next morning at the International House of Pancakes on Hardy Street right across from the university. When she told me about it I got so excited I didn’t know what to do. I went home and told Mama and Daddy what Miss Hopson was planning. She was gonna pay for everything herself. Miss Hopson don’t really have to work. She has lots of money. Everybody says her father made a ton of money in the lumber business and left her more money than she’ll ever be able to spend. She teaches piano lessons because she loves the piano. The moment I told Daddy what Miss Hopson’s plans were my daddy said I couldn’t go. I asked him why I couldn’t go. He said a motel ain’t nothing but a whorehouse. Why Daddy thought that I don’t know because as far as I know he ain’t never spent a night in a motel. But I’ve heard him call a lot of places whorehouses. He says a drive-in theater is a teenage whorehouse. The back seat of a car is a whorehouse. I begged him to let me go but he wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t budge an inch. The next week when I went up to Laurel for my piano lesson I told Miss Hopson what my daddy had said about not lettin’ me go. She said, “Your daddy is being unreasonable. I’ll call him right now and get him to change his mind.” I told her Daddy’s extension number at the Masonite plant. She called him right then and there. I couldn’t hear what Daddy said but I could hear what Miss Hopson said. She said, “Hello, Mr. Buchanan, this is Patty Hopson, your daughter’s piano teacher. How are you today?” Miss Hopson was being real nice asking Daddy how he was. Daddy must have said he was okay because Miss Hopson said, “That’s fine. I’m glad to hear that.” Then she went on to say, “Mr. Buchanan, I’m calling you about the music conference they’re going to have down in Hattiesburg in a few days. I’ve looked over the program and I can tell it’s going to be high quality all the way through. I particularly want Beulah to go so she can hear the piano concert that’ll be at night. They’re bringing down a Chicago pianist and he’ll be accompanied by the University of Southern Mississippi Symphony. Beulah tells me she has never heard a symphony orchestra before. I thought I’d let my students have a little fun by spending the night at the Holiday Inn. And then they can have a pancake breakfast the next morning. I’m picking up the tab for all this myself and I surely do want Beulah to go. She’ll be exposed to a lot she hasn’t been exposed to before. It’ll be educational as well as a barrel of fun.” I could tell Daddy started saying something. He must have said something about my safety or my conduct because Miss Hopson said, “Mr. Buchanan, don’t you be worried. I’ll keep a close eye on her. I can assure you she’ll be okay.” Daddy started talking again and Miss Hopson rolled her eyes and made a face like she didn’t like what he was sayin’. The upshot of it was Daddy wouldn’t give in. When the telephone conversation was over Miss Hopson put her arm around me and gave me a hug and said, “Beulah, I tried my best to get your daddy to change his mind but he wouldn’t. I guess this means the door is closed.” I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. Buchanans don’t cry in public. I didn’t get to go to the concert. I stayed home. Everybody who went said they had a big time. They had a pillow fight at the motel. They went swimming in the motel pool. The next morning they ate pancakes at the International House of Pancakes. I think Daddy should have let me go. Me going down to Hattiesburg and spending the night in a motel ain’t the worst thing in the world you can do. I can think of a lot of things that’s worser. The thought goin’ through my mind was that gettin’ married would be a quick way to get out from under the thumb of my mama and daddy. Maybe I wouldn’t be bossed around no more. Maybe if I was married I’d get to go places. So when Daddy asked me what I thought about marrying Ralph, I said, “I think I’d like to.” Them’s the exact five words I spoke.

Daddy blew a big puff of cigar smoke, passed another loud fart, and said, “Then that settles it. Ralph and Beulah are gonna get married.”

Mama spoke out real loud and said, “I think she’s making a mistake. And I mean a big mistake.”

With that Mama got up and left the front porch in a huff. As she walked into the house she slammed the door. I bet you could have heard that slam all the way down to the Okatoma River. That’s the way Mama acts when she’s mad about something. She walks away in a huff and slams the door. That wasn’t the first time I’d heard Mama and Daddy disagree. And I figured it wouldn’t be the last time.

The next day Daddy went by Ralph’s barbecue cafe in Laurel and told him he’d prayed about it and had decided it would be okay if we got married. Ralph said he’d prayed about it too. As far as Daddy was concerned me marrying Ralph was the Lord’s will. That’s what he told me he told Ralph.

The Lord’s will or not, no sooner had Daddy give the green light for me to marry than I hit a snag. When I think about the snag it still hurts. Two or three days after Daddy gave the green light we was all eatin’ breakfast. By “we” I mean Daddy, Mama, Earline, and me. Daddy was dunking his biscuits in his coffee. Mama don’t like for Daddy to dunk his biscuits in his coffee. She says it’s not nice. When you dunk a biscuit in coffee you crumble it up in your coffee and let it get real moist and then you eat it with a spoon. That’s what Daddy was doin’ when he said, “We got to start thinking about Beulah’s wedding.”

In a real snappy voice Mama said, “Who’re you talking to?”

Daddy said, “I’m talking to you.”

Mama said, “Why’re you talkin’ to me?”

Daddy said, ‘Because you’re Beulah’s mama.”

I could tell Mama was still real ticked off because she said, “I ain’t havin’ nothing to do with Beulah’s wedding. And when I say nothing I mean nothing. I ain’t even goin’ to it.”

It really hurt when Mama said that.

Daddy said, “Josephine, that’s not a nice thing for you to say.”

Mama said, “Maybe it’s not. But nice or not nice, I’m not touching her wedding with a ten-foot pole. I’ve told you Ralph ain’t no good. If I went to the wedding I’d be as phony as a Jew singin’ about Jesus at a Baptist revival. You and Beulah can handle the wedding all by yourselves. So go to it and best of luck.”

I thought at the time Mama was being mean. I still think she was being mean. The Bible says you’re supposed to honor your father and your mother. That’s one of the ten commandments Brother Ledbetter is always preaching about at the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. I’m guessin’ the commandment means you’re supposed to love your parents. But how can you love your mama when she’s mean to you? I think it’s weird that your mama and daddy say some of the meanest things that’s ever said to you. Even if I was makin’ a mistake by marrying Ralph, couldn’t Mama at least have gone along and kept her feelings to herself and her mouth shut? If she’d done that I wouldn’t have been embarrassed by the way she was acting. I’ll put it this way: can’t a mama be kind to her daughter even when she feels her daughter is making a mistake? If I ever have a son or a daughter I’m gonna be kind and tender to ’em even though I know they’re pissin’ in their pants.

When Mama said she wasn’t gonna have nothing to do with my wedding, Daddy said, “Oh shit.” I could tell he was ticked off.

But then he said, “By god, I’ll get something worked out. What it’ll be I don’t know.”

Daddy went and told Aunt Carrie about the way Mama was acting. Aunt Carrie is Daddy’s sister. She’s married to Sam Casey. Everybody calls her husband “Uncle Sam.” His real name is Samuel, not Sam. He was named after Samuel in the Old Testament. Everybody says Uncle Sam is the best carpenter in Jones County. And maybe he is. He ain’t never hurting for work because people are always wanting him to fix this and fix that. Aunt Carrie and Uncle Sam have one daughter. Her name is Velma. Velma is older than me. When I was a little girl I used to spend the night with Velma. She and I had a big time chasing lightning bugs at night. We’d catch ’em and put ’em in a glass jar with air holes punched in the lid. Velma has become the black sheep of the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. I don’t think she’s a black sheep but Ralph’s relatives sure think she is. They don’t like her because she divorced her husband who was a Rainey and was kin to Ralph. Velma later remarried. She married the man who owns the Confederate Truck Stop on Highway 49 just north of Hattiesburg. Two weeks after Velma remarried they had a business meeting at the New Jerusalem Baptist Church and voted her slam out of the church. I know they voted Velma slam out of the church because I was there when they done it and heard what Brother Ledbetter said. He said Velma remarrying after she’d got a divorce made her an adulterer and he wasn’t in favor of having an adulterer in the church. He said the Bible says a divorced woman ain’t suppose to marry again. My sister—Earline—says her divorce is not the reason some people don’t like Velma. Earline says people don’t like Velma because they’re jealous of her. They know she’s now got money and can afford to drive a Cadillac.

Aunt Carrie listened to Daddy telling about Mama acting like a pouting pig over me marrying Ralph. Daddy later told me she said, “Josephine ought to be ashamed acting that way. Beulah needs her support.” Aunt Carrie told Daddy not to worry. She said she and Velma would take care of the wedding. Which is exactly what they done.

Velma had me come down to Hattiesburg and meet her at the Confederate Truck Stop. She took me across town to McRae’s Department Store in the Cloverleaf Mall. She picked out for me the prettiest white dress I’d ever seen. It had gold embroidery all over it. When I tried it on it made me feel like a princess. Velma also bought me a pair of white shoes and a white hat with a fancy veil on it that came down over my face. The clerk said it was a pillbox hat. I’d never heard of a hat being called a pillbox hat before. Velma also bought me a frilly pink dress which she called my “going away” outfit. On top of all that she bought me a pretty blue blouse and a matching pair of blue slacks. She told me, “You wear this blouse and these slacks on your honeymoon.” When I walked out of McRae’s Department Store with all of them new clothes in them big boxes I felt like I was floating on a cloud. They even gave me a cute little box to carry my pillbox hat in. The box was round like a donut.

One week later Ralph and I married. Our wedding was on a Saturday morning at the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. Ralph said he could spare two days for a wedding and a honeymoon. He’d have to be back at his barbecue cafe and butcher shop by early Monday morning. A nice crowd was at the church to see me and Ralph get married. Like she said she wouldn’t, Mama didn’t come. She stayed home and pouted. When Mama is really mad she pouts and don’t talk to nobody. For a week before the wedding she wouldn’t say nothin’ to Daddy or to Earline or to me. She wouldn’t answer the phone either. Her not comin’ to my wedding was embarrassing and really hurt my feelings. But Daddy and Earline was there. So was Velma and Aunt Carrie and Uncle Sam. Ralph’s mama and daddy came. So did his two brothers. One is named Dewey and the other one is named Harold. Pauline and Luella was there. They’re Dewey’s and Harold’s wives. Bessie was there. She’s Ralph’s sister who lives in Baton Rouge. She drove all the way from Baton Rouge to New Jerusalem just to be at our wedding. The one person who wasn’t there I thought might be there was Oscar. Ralph didn’t want him there because he said Oscar wouldn’t know what a wedding was. So Oscar stayed in Ellisville.

I wore my new white dress with gold embroidery that Velma had bought for me at McRae’s Department Store. I had on my new white shoes and my new pillbox hat with the veil that come down over my face. My sister Earline was my maid of honor. Ralph wore his dark blue suit and his maroon tie. His daddy was his best man.

Brother Ledbetter done the ceremony. I thought he’d never get through. That’s the way Brother Ledbetter is. He can ramble on and on. He read from the Old Testament. And then he read from the New Testament. He had a book of poems about love and marriage and he read some of them. Then he got off on divorce. He talked more about divorce than anything else. He said he didn’t want me and Ralph to ever get a divorce because gettin’ a divorce is sin. Why he wanted to hit so hard on divorce the day we was gettin’ married was beyond me. Aunt Carrie told me later he wasn’t aiming what he said at me and Ralph but was aiming at Velma. Like I told you, Velma divorced her first husband and married the husband she has now and got voted out of the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. I tell you right now: Brother Ledbetter don’t like Velma and Velma don’t like Brother Ledbetter. She says he’s full of baptized crap. She and Brother Ledbetter don’t even speak to each other. They give each other the cold shoulder treatment.

When the wedding service was over we had some real nice refreshments. Aunt Carrie and Velma had set up a table at the back of the church and had covered it with a white linen table cloth. I could tell they’d really gone to a lot of trouble. On the table were two bowls of nuts. Them bowls had all kinds of nuts—pecans, peanuts, cashews, and almonds. There was another bowl of little round, green mints. There was a big bowl of cherry punch with a big piece of ice floating in it along with a fancy silver dipper and green paper cups for everybody to drink out of. Where that fancy silver dipper came from I’ve never found out. I keep forgettin’ to ask Velma or Aunt Carrie where they got it.

What really stole the show was the wedding cake which was sittin’ right in the middle of the table. Velma had it baked at the Jitney Jungle Grocery in Laurel. It was covered all over with white icing and was decorated with little red rosebuds. On top in the very middle was a little toy bride and groom. The groom had on a black suit and the bride had on a red dress that matched the rosebuds on the cake. In her hand she was holding a red umbrella. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I seen that umbrella. Also on top of the cake in pink icing was writing which said, “Best Wishes to Beulah and Ralph.” It was all so nice. I wished Mama had been there to see how nice it was. But like I said, she was home pouting because she didn’t want me to marry Ralph.

Ralph and me left the church about the middle of the day. Just before leaving I went to the lady’s room and took off my white bride’s dress and put on the pink “going away” dress Velma had bought for me. Velma helped me change into it. Everybody waved at us and told us goodbye as we drove off. For our honeymoon we drove down to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. Our honeymoon lasted Saturday afternoon and most of Sunday. When we got down to the coast I seen something I’d never seen before. I’m talking about the Gulf of Mexico. The Gulf of Mexico took my breath away. It was so big and so pretty and so shiny. I didn’t know there was that much water in all the world.

Ralph and me got on the highway that runs along beside the gulf. Ralph said, “This is Highway 90. It goes all the way from the Louisiana line clean across Mississippi to the Alabama state line. When I was in the navy I was stationed for a year at Pascagoula where the shipyard is. So I know this coast pretty good.”

After I was married to Ralph I learned all about the navy. Ralph was proud of having been in the navy. That’s where he became a cook and learned the food business.

While we was driving toward Biloxi Ralph said, “We gotta find a motel where we can spend the night.”

Ralph mentioning a motel made me feel funny on the inside. I’d never spent a night in a motel before. The only thing I knew about motels was Daddy saying they was whorehouses. That’s the main reason he wouldn’t let me go with Miss Hopson to Hattiesburg for the piano conference. Miss Hopson was goin’ to let all of her piano students spend the night at the Holiday Inn and go swimming in the motel pool. Daddy told me, “I’m not gonna let you spend the night in a whorehouse.”

Me and Ralph started looking for a motel. I spotted this motel called the Broadwater Beach.

I said, “Why don’t we try this one? The sign out front says it’s a motel.”

Ralph said, “Okay. We’ll give it a try.”

We pulled up in front of the Broadwater Beach Motel. Ralph said, “You stay here. I’ll go in and see if they have a room.”

While Ralph was doin’ that I got out of the car and looked around. I couldn’t believe what I saw. The Broadwater Beach was fancier than the motels in Laurel. I mean it was a lot fancier. It had this big swimming pool with a waterfall. People in bathing suits were sitting around the pool and were soaking up the sun. Everwhere I looked was palm trees and flowers. And the motel had the greenest grass I’d ever seen. The grass was being watered by pretty, little sprinklers that stuck up out of the ground.

Ralph come out of the motel and said, “Let’s get back in the car and keep looking.”

Which we done.

When we got back in the car I asked, “Didn’t they have no room?”

He said, “Yeah, they had a room. But they wanted to charge me seventy dollars for one night. Can you believe that? Seventy dollars! I ain’t about to pay seventy dollars for a motel room. No way.”

I thought to myself: Ralph, we’re on our honeymoon. We ain’t gonna be down here but one night. What’d be wrong spending seventy dollars for a nice motel room? But it was his money. So I kept what I was thinking to myself.

We got back on Highway 90 and away we went. We was still goin’ toward Biloxi. A sign beside the highway read “Biloxi Straight Ahead.”

Ralph said, “They’ve got a big airbase in Biloxi. It’s one of the biggest bases the airforce has.”

I said, “I didn’t know that.” Ralph was tellin’ me a lot of things I didn’t know.

The next thing I said was, “Look, Ralph, there’s a Holiday Inn. Why don’t we try it?” I kinda wanted to stay at a Holiday Inn to make up for not being able to stay at the Holiday Inn in Hattiesburg the time Miss Hopson took all her piano students to the music conference.

Ralph said, “I’ll pull in and check out their prices.”

So we pulled up in front of the Holiday Inn. Ralph hopped out and went inside and was back in thirty seconds.

He said, “They’re worse than the Broadwater Beach. They want seventy-five dollars for a room. I’m not gonna let these robbers hold me up. That much money for a room ain’t nothing but highway robbery.”

So we got back on the highway and headed again toward Biloxi. I was enjoyin’ the ride. To my right was the Gulf of Mexico. Between the highway and the gulf was a pretty sandy beach. Some couples was out there walking on the sand and holding hands.

I said to Ralph, “I hope you and me can walk on that beach sometime this evening or night and hold hands like those folks out there are doin’.”

He said, “We’ll do that.”

I was glad Ralph said that. We was on our honeymoon and so far he hadn’t shown me no tenderness and honey talk. I thought that was what a honeymoon was all about. I was wanting a lot of tenderness and honey talk like he gave me the Sunday he stood beside the church piano and said all of them sweet things to me about how pretty I was.

We hadn’t drove very far before Ralph said, “Let’s check this motel out.”

I said, “Which one?”

He said, “This one that’s painted yellow.”

Sure enough. There was this motel that was painted yellow. It was the brightest yellow I’d ever seen. The sign out front read “The Twinkling Star Motel.” I’m gonna be honest with you. When I looked at that motel my heart sank. It sank into the ground. It wasn’t near about as nice as the Holiday Inn or the Broadwater Beach. I could tell the rooms was real little and was crowded next to one another like pigs in a pig’s sty. But I didn’t say nothing. I was gonna let Ralph handle us gettin’ a place to spend our honeymoon night.

Ralph drove in and stopped in front of the Twinkling Star Motel office. The motel office was real little too and had an open window you could see into. There was a man sittin’ in the office and as soon as we stopped he yelled out the window, “Do you folks need a room for tonight?” I could tell the motel man had on a brown denim shirt and was wearing a straw hat. His straw hat was the kind you buy at a hardware store to wear when you’re working out in the yard or in a garden. Since he was sittin’ inside the motel office I couldn’t help but wonder why he was wearing a straw hat. That didn’t make sense to me.

Ralph yelled back, “Yeah, I need a room. How much do you charge?”

The man in the straw hat yelled back, “Thirty dollars a night. That’s the best deal on the Mississippi Gulf Coast. You can’t beat it.”

Ralph answered, “How about comin’ down to twenty-five dollars?”

The man in the straw hat came back at Ralph. He said, “You must be a Jew.”

Ralph said, “I ain’t no Jew. I’m a Baptist.”

The man in the straw hat said, “I didn’t think you looked like a Jew, but you’re sure acting like one. I’ll come down to twenty-five dollars. But I ain’t goin’ no lower than that. I gotta make a profit. You can have room eight up there on the right side. Here’s the key.”

With that he put a key on the shelf in front of the open window. Ralph got out of the car and picked up the key. He said, “You say room eight on the right side?”

The man behind the window said, “That’s right. Room eight. Believe you me I’m losin’ my pants on this deal. I still say you’re a Jew.”

Ralph laughed and said, “Nope, I’m a Baptist.”

Ralph got back in the car and we drove a few feet and parked in front of room eight. Ralph and me got out of the car and got our two suitcases. Ralph unlocked the door to room eight and we walked inside. The room smelled musty. It smelled like it had been closed up for a year. It had a window air conditioner.

Ralph said, “Let me turn on the air conditioner. It’s hot in here.”

Which he done. I looked around at the furniture in the room. To be frank with you, it wasn’t very nice. There was a bed, a table, a chair, and a twelve-inch television set. The bed and the table and the chair looked to me like they’d been on Noah’s Ark. The floor was covered with linoleum. But what can you expect for twenty-five dollars? I wished we’d stayed at the Holiday Inn or at the Broadwater Beach. One thing I learned in a hurry about Ralph. He was tight with a dollar. I bet I heard him say a thousand times “a penny saved is a penny earned.”

No sooner had each one of us used the bathroom than Ralph said, “I’m hungry. All I had for dinner was them wedding refreshments and they ain’t holding me. Let’s go get something to eat.”

That was fine with me. So we got in the car and got back on Highway 90. We hadn’t drove very far before Ralph spotted a Western Sizzlin Steak House.

He said, “There’s a Western Sizzlin. They have got one of them in Laurel. Let’s stop and eat there.”

We parked and went inside the steak house. Ralph said, “Since this is our honeymoon let’s order the T-bone special.”

Which is what we done. We ordered two T-bone specials with a baked potato. Ralph let me know in no uncertain terms that he was a fan of Western Sizzlin Steak Houses. He said, “I couldn’t count the number of times I’ve eaten at the Western Sizzlin in Laurel. They really know how to cook a steak.”

He went on to explain he ate a lot of barbecued chicken and ribs at his cafe. But sometimes he got tired of barbecue and needed a grilled steak. Which is when he’d go to the Western Sizzlin. He added, “Course now that I’m married I hope I can have a lot of vegetable suppers at the house. There ain’t nothing better for you than good cooked vegetables. By the way, Beulah, do you know how to cook vegetables?”

I said, “Oh yes I do. Mama had me working in the kitchen before I was ten.”

He said, “That’s good. I’m glad to know that.”

After we’d finished them T-bone steaks we headed back west to the Twinkling Star Motel. On the way back we stopped at a Baskin-Robbins Ice Cream store and bought a cone of ice-cream. Mine was strawberry. As far as I’m concerned there ain’t no better flavor of ice cream than strawberry.

As we pulled into the Twinkling Star Motel Ralph blew his horn and waved at the old fellow in the office who’d asked him if he was a Jew. It was getting late but he was still wearing his straw hat.

We parked in front of room eight. Ralph looked at me and said, “You said a little while ago you wanted to walk on the beach some. Why don’t we do that before it gets too late.”

I said, “I’d love to.” Which is what we done. I’d never walked on a beach before. The fact is I’d never seen a beach before. You won’t believe how much sand there is on the Biloxi beach. All of that sand and all of that wavy water with the tide comin’ in just blew my mind.

As we walked down the beach me and Ralph held hands. I could tell he was gettin’ lovey. Which is what you’re supposed to do on your honeymoon. We hadn’t walked too far before Ralph said, “I think I’ll smoke a cigar.”

Him saying that caught me by surprise. I know this sounds silly, but for some reason or other I hadn’t caught on that Ralph smoked. Which is why I said, “I didn’t know you smoked.”

He said, “Yep, I do. At least once a day I smoke a cigar. I never smoke more than one. Smoking ain’t good for you, but it helps me to relax.”

He reached in his shirt pocket and pulled out a cigar. He then put it in his mouth and lit it and started puffing away. The way cigar smoke started comin’ out of Ralph’s mouth you’d of thought he was a steam engine puffing up a mountain.

Ralph said, “This cigar is a Swisher Sweet. Them’s the only kind of cigars I smoke. I like the way they smell. And I like the way they taste.”

I asked, “What kind of cigar did you say that was?”

He said, “It’s a Swisher Sweet. It’s a small cigar put out by the King Edward cigar folks.”

That was the first Swisher Sweet I saw Ralph smoke. But it sure wasn’t the last. Every day we was married he smoked a Swisher Sweet.

After a while we left the beach and walked back to our room at the Twinkling Star Motel. I began to feel real funny. And unsure of myself. I knew the time had come for me to go to bed with Ralph and I didn’t know what to expect. I was a virgin. I’d never dated. I’d never been around men except men like Daddy and Uncle Sam. I knew Ralph would want sex. The thing I was wondering was: did I want it? What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to act? I didn’t know the answer to them questions.

Ralph asked me, “Have you got a nightgown?”

I said, “Nope, but I’ve got some pajamas.”

He said, “Why don’t you go to the bathroom and put ’em on.”

Which is what I done. I took off my “going away” dress and put on my pajamas. I looked in the bathroom mirror and took my comb and combed my hair. I was doing my best to make myself look pretty. When you’re a primitive Baptist and can’t use makeup you don’t have too much to work with when it comes to tryin’ to look pretty. I excused myself on the john and then opened the door to our motel room. The moment I opened the door I seen that Ralph had put on his pajamas. They was fire-engine red. My pajamas was light green.

Ralph said, “I need to take a leak.” Which he went into the bathroom and did.

When he came out of the bathroom I took one good look at him. And you know what grabbed my attention the most? His buck teeth. Like I’ve said, all the Raineys look like horses. But I was gambling that livin’ with a horse would be better in the long run than livin’ with Mama and Daddy who could be so mean to me and Earline.

As soon as Ralph stepped out of the bathroom he said, “Beulah, I want us to sanctify our marriage bed.”

I didn’t have no idea what he meant. And so I said, “What do you mean by that?”

“Before you and me go to bed for the first time I think we ought to pray.” That’s what Ralph said. I didn’t know you was supposed to pray before you went to bed together for the first time. I didn’t know what to pray about and so I said to Ralph, “That’s fine with me but you do the prayin’.”

He said, “Sure. I’ll do the prayin’.”

Ralph got down on his knees and I don’t remember word for word what he prayed but it went something like this: “Oh dear God, me and Beulah is about to have sex together for the first time. I know St. Paul says in the Bible that it’s a good thing for a man not to touch a woman. But St. Paul also says in the Good Book that it’s better to marry than to burn. And oh dear God, ever since Ruth Ann died I’ve been burning for somebody to love. I want to thank you for little Beulah here who has come into my life to take Ruth Ann’s place. Help me to be a good husband to sweet little Beulah and help her to be a good wife to me like Ruth Ann was. I pray this prayer in the name of Jesus who died on the cross so we could be saved through his blood. Oh thank you Jesus. Amen.”

Them is almost the exact words Ralph prayed so he could sanctify our marriage bed in the Twinkling Star Motel. I didn’t like it one bit that he called me “sweet little Beulah.” Everybody said I looked grown for my age. I remember Aunt Carrie saying two days before the wedding, “Beulah, if I didn’t know better I’d say you was at least twenty-five years old.” You take my boobs. If you could have seen my boobs when I was sixteen you’d have understood what Aunt Carrie meant. I may have been a primitive Baptist from New Jerusalem who didn’t use makeup, but my boobs wasn’t second class to nobody. And I didn’t like Ralph talking about Ruth Ann in his prayer. I particularly didn’t like him saying I was gonna take her place. But since it was our first night together I kept my mouth shut. At times it’s best to keep your feelings to yourself. Particularly if them feelings is raw.

So to bed we went. I thought we’d both get naked. But we didn’t. Ralph kept his red pajamas on. I didn’t take off my pajama top. But I did take off my pajama bottoms. I did that because Ralph said, “Take off your pajama bottoms. That way I won’t have no trouble gettin’ to it.” That’s the exact word he used. “It.” I didn’t appreciate him callin’ my cherry an “it.” But that’s sure the word he used. An “it.” After I took off my pajama bottoms we done some kissin’ which I didn’t like all that much. The reason I didn’t like him kissing me all that much was because Ralph’s kisses tasted like a Swisher Sweet cigar. I found myself wishin’ he’d brushed his teeth and used some Listerine mouthwash before sanctifying our marriage bed. The next thing Ralph done was to rub my boobs a little. The next thing he done surprised me. He put some saliva on his fingers and wet my cherry. Since I knew the way his breath smelled it made me wonder if my cherry was smellin’ like a Swisher Sweet cigar. After he’d wet my cherry he put a rubber on his dick and stuck it up my cherry. He then started pumping away. It must have felt good to Ralph because the moment he started pumping he started moaning. He didn’t say nothing to me. He just pumped and moaned and pumped and moaned. As soon as he jacked off he pulled his dick out and turned over and went to sleep. He hadn’t been asleep two minutes before he started snoring. I lay there on the bed and listened to Ralph snore. I done that after I’d put back on my pajama bottoms. I bet it took me at least an hour to go to sleep. So much was goin’ through my mind. When a lot is goin’ through your mind it ain’t easy to go to sleep.

I bet us havin’ sex for the first time in the Twinkling Star Motel in Biloxi didn’t take more than two minutes. Three minutes at the most. It may have felt good to Ralph but it didn’t feel good to me. The reason I know it felt good to Ralph is because of the way he grunted and moaned. But for me it hurt while we was doin’ it. The way Ralph had sex that first night we was together was the way he done it all six years I was married to him. On average he’s wanted it three times a week. Usually on Monday night and on Wednesday night and on either Friday or Saturday night. And every time it was the same. Put on a rubber, stick it in, and pump away. Then turn over and go to sleep and start snoring like an Illinois Central freight train on the way to Chicago. The only time Ralph let up on having sex was when I had my periods. During my periods I didn’t have to have no sex with Ralph. I’d pretend my periods was longer than they really was. I’d keep on wearing a Kotex or a Tampax several days after my period had stopped. Sometimes Ralph would say, “Beulah, your periods sure do last a long time.” And I’d say, “I know they do but there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s just the way I’m made.” Some women love to go to bed with a man. Maybe sex is good if you’re havin’ it with a man who is tender and kind and sweet talks you and knows how to work you up and get you in the mood. But Ralph never got me worked up. Every time after we’d done it I’d turn over and think about how it hurt. It got to the point where me havin’ sex with Ralph wasn’t nothing more than meat rubbing against meat. From time to time I’d wonder if it’d feel better if maybe I was doin’ it with somebody else besides Ralph. But I knew that doin’ it with somebody besides Ralph would be wrong. That would be committing adultery and goin’ against Mount Sinai. The ten commandments came at Mount Sinai and one of those ten commandments says “you shall not commit adultery.” At least once a month Brother Ledbetter preaches a sermon in which he shells down hard against committing adultery. He says over and over that committing adultery would be sinning against Moses and Mount Sinai. Brother Ledbetter shells down as hard on committing adultery as he does on women wearing lipstick and having their hair cut short. So in his sermons he’ll say time and time again we’ve got to bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus. Sometimes while preaching a sermon Brother Ledbetter will start chanting. He says he starts chanting when the Spirit comes down upon him. You can always tell when the Spirit has come down on Brother Ledbetter. He gets a fixed stare in his eyes. He’ll lift both of his arms real high over his head and he’ll chant over and over “bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus. Bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus.” While he’s saying this he’ll shuffle around the pulpit. And at times the Spirit will come down on everybody in the congregation at the New Jerusalem Baptist Church. Everybody will stand up and join in with Brother Ledbetter. Everybody will lift their arms real high and chant over and over “bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus.” And sometimes when Brother Ledbetter is chanting and shuffling his feet the Spirit will come down upon Miss Priscilla King. Miss Priscilla is an old maid who is our church’s piano player. She’ll jump up and go to the piano and start playing music to go along with Brother Ledbetter’s chanting and the congregation’s chanting. On the church piano she’ll play songs like “We’re Marching to Zion” and “Since Jesus Came Into My Heart.” You’ve missed a lot if you’ve never heard Brother Ledbetter and the congregation of the New Jerusalem Baptist Church chanting “bow down before Mount Sinai and hold fast to Jesus” while Miss Priscilla plays “We’re Marching to Zion.” It will make goosepimples come over you from head to toe. Or at least it used to make goosepimples come all over me.