Part 5 (1/2)
”For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly grateful. In the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit.”
We tucked into Mama's fried chicken, red beans and rice, fried okra, corn on the cob.
”How is Father Gray?” Mama asked.
”He went on and on about abortion today,” I said.
”Rightly so,” Mama said. ”All those murdered babies. I've been meaning to get over there and see that display of crosses.”
”If they think a clump of cells is just as important as a human being, they're full of hot stinking c.r.a.p,” I said.
”Oh, here we go,” Sh.e.l.ly said.
”We respect life in this house,” Mama said crossly. ”Life begins at the moment of conception. All All life is precious.” life is precious.”
She glanced at Noah, as if he were a case in point, as if the extra finger on his left hand and his deaf ears were exactly why life was ”sacred.”
”Mama, the Twinkie is older than the idea that life begins at conception,” I pointed out.
”Shut your mouth, Wiley Cantrell!” Mama snapped.
”Don't start on abortion today,” Sh.e.l.ly begged.
”Every time a woman has a period, it's a spontaneous abortion because the egg didn't take,” I said, undeterred. ”Are we going to start having a funeral for every used tampon?”
Bill snorted.
His boys laughed like they understood.
Papaw slapped the table.
”How can you talk that way in front of the children?” Mama asked.
”Just keeping it real,” I said.
”Leave it, Mama,” Bill said. ”Don't get him going.”
”I hate the way he talks in this house!” she exclaimed.
”A funeral ma.s.s for a tampon,” Papaw said. ”Put that in one of your books, Wiley, and you might sell a few copies.”
”You see where he gets it from,” Bill said, glancing at Papaw unhappily.
”You don't even go to ma.s.s anymore,” Mama said, offering Bill a disapproving look.
”Can we talk about something else?” Sh.e.l.ly suggested.
”It's a sin to miss your Sunday obligation,” Mama said.
”I'm a Baptist now, Mama,” Bill said.
”Well, at least you go to church,” she said.
”I go to church too,” I said.
”Fat lot of good it does you,” Mama said.
”I'm sorry, but I just don't believe in that nonsense.”
”And look where that's got you,” she said. ”You and your lifestyle. lifestyle.”
There was quiet.
”Mama, why don't you just sew up a Scarlet H and glue it on my forehead?” I asked. ”H for the happy h.o.m.o. Can't we have one conversation that doesn't involve my p.e.n.i.s?”
Eli snorted a mouthful of mashed potatoes halfway across the table.
Sh.e.l.ly was aghast.
Bill smiled ruefully.
”Wiley Cantrell!” Mama exclaimed. ”I ought to wash your mouth out with soap!”
”You started it,” I replied.
”Don't talk that way in front of the children!”
”At least the h.o.m.o is honest,” Papaw said.
”On behalf of the intrinsically disordered,” I said, ”let me say that this fried chicken is really quite good, Mama.”
”You're impossible,” Mama said.
”What's an intrinsic order?” Josh asked.
”You hush,” Sh.e.l.ly said.
”I'm just asking!”
”Shut it,” Bill said.
”I'm just asking! Jeez!”
”Now look what you've done!” Mama exclaimed in outraged tones.
”Can we go swimming after we eat?” Eli asked.