***
Oh, Bring Me Home Sister!
High grass centered the road, scraping the underside of Uncle Chuck’s Chevy. Out the rear window a cloud of clay-colored dust trailed.
Ahead, distorted by the heat shimmer, a red-and-white schoolhouse loomed on the prairie.
Uncle Chuck parked in the cross-tipped shadow of the steeple. He caught me in the rearview. “C’mon, boy. Let’s get you some religion.”
Right. Like that‘d bring them back.
We sat up front. The preacher’s drone slowed everything down.
Baking and drenched, I stood. Nobody stopped me. Halfway to the exit a lyrical "hummmmm" rose from the choir.
I spun. A heavyset woman draped in purple opened her mouth, sang, “Oh, bring him home.”
The choir chimed in. A sea of swaying violet. “Oh, Low-o-ordy.”
The heavyset woman screamed, “NOW COME ON HOME!”
Everyone stood, began a rhythmic clapping. The choir continued, “Oh, Low-o-ordy.”
Then the heavyset woman, still singing, spread her arms wide as Christ on the crucifix.
I tried to stiffen, tried to resist. But slowly -- my knees bent, my fingers snapped, my lips fluttered.
The heavyset woman nodded.
I raised my face to the ceiling, felt my mouth unhinge, felt the building tremble as I sang out, “OH, YEAH I‘M HOME.”
Oh, Bring Me Home Sister!
High grass centered the road, scraping the underside of Uncle Chuck’s Chevy. Out the rear window a cloud of clay-colored dust trailed.
Ahead, distorted by the heat shimmer, a red-and-white schoolhouse loomed on the prairie.
Uncle Chuck parked in the cross-tipped shadow of the steeple. He caught me in the rearview. “C’mon, boy. Let’s get you some religion.”
Right. Like that‘d bring them back.
We sat up front. The preacher’s drone slowed everything down.
Baking and drenched, I stood. Nobody stopped me. Halfway to the exit a lyrical "hummmmm" rose from the choir.
I spun. A heavyset woman draped in purple opened her mouth, sang, “Oh, bring him home.”
The choir chimed in. A sea of swaying violet. “Oh, Low-o-ordy.”
The heavyset woman screamed, “NOW COME ON HOME!”
Everyone stood, began a rhythmic clapping. The choir continued, “Oh, Low-o-ordy.”
Then the heavyset woman, still singing, spread her arms wide as Christ on the crucifix.
I tried to stiffen, tried to resist. But slowly -- my knees bent, my fingers snapped, my lips fluttered.
The heavyset woman nodded.
I raised my face to the ceiling, felt my mouth unhinge, felt the building tremble as I sang out, “OH, YEAH I‘M HOME.”
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