Chapter One
Last night I dreamed about snakes and not for the first time neither.
Cassie was worried. She had been dreaming about snakes again. She had read somewhere when you dream about snakes it means something dirty, but she didn’t believe that. She did believe it meant something though. Her mama said all dreams mean something, and she believed it was true. She felt something deep inside her all coiled up like a snake – deadly and hissing and ready to strike. She didn’t know what it was or when it would happen, but it was there just like a rattlesnake all slanty-eyed and waiting.
She didn’t dare tell her mama about her snake dreams even though Cassie told her about most everything. Her mama was good at getting to the bottom of things like dreams and signs and funny feelings. Cassie didn’t much care for her mama getting to the bottom this. She decided she’d best keep it to herself and pray that God would take away any more snake dreams coming her way.
You can’t help your dreams though, and she got a funny feeling it wouldn’t be long before it came back.
Cassie prayed all that morning.
“Dear God, I wish you could let me know if you’re tryin to tell me somethin. Please take away these snake dreams if it’s what you think is best. I know you only do what is best for us, but in this case, I think I could do without dreamin about snakes. You know, God, how much I hate snakes. So if it’s alright with you, I’d like to stop dreamin about ’em. Course, if you’re tryin to tell me something then I’d like for you to make it clear to me. If that’s all right. Or if you can’t make it clear or take away the dreams, maybe you could just make me not be so worried about ’em. Thank you for all you do for me. I hope I didn’t make you mad by asking about somethin like a dream. Amen.”
Cassie prayed that prayer over and over until her knees were numb from knelling on the braided rug by her bed. The praying didn’t make her feel any better.
She stood up and rubbed the braided rug imprints on her knees. She thought her knees looked like a bunch of dried up scupernogs on the vine in her granddaddy’s garden when summer made way for fall.
After the feeling returned to her legs, she headed out to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
When she opened her door, she heard the murmur of ladies’s voices coming from her mother’s kitchen table. It was Saturday, and she had spent so much time praying, she had missed breakfast. She was hungry, but she knew better than to disturb her mother when she was entertaining the church ladies. She quietly eased down the hall and out the side door.
On the side porch, Cassie dipped herself a cool drink of water from the barrel that sat in the shade of the Confederate Jasmine. She placed the tin water dipper back in the barrel being careful to not let it hit the side.
She eased around to the kitchen screen door, her back against the house like she’d seen people do on TV. When she reached the door, she hunkered down in the azalea bushes so she could hear the ladies’ conversation without being discovered.
Her mother was saying something about a new church in the backwater. Cassie inched a little closer so she could hear better.
“Them folks up there is what you call signs and wonders folks,” Miss Janie Horne said emphatically. “I heard they even take up snakes! Can you believe it? Right here in Halman County a pack of snake handlers.”
“Now, Miss Janie,” Cassie’s mother said, “you don’t really believe that’s a snake handling church, do you?”
“I do, Lily,” Miss Janie said. “And if you had seen ’em, you’d think so too. They put up a sign right on the front of the church. Signs and Wonders of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the End Times. Now what kind of a church do you think would be called such a thing? Why they even dance in church with them snakes! It’s shameful.”
The ladies sat in silence, each thinking about the prospect of having a snake handling church in the county.
There were only two kinds of churches in Halman County – Baptist and Methodist. The First Methodist Church was the biggest and it was the only Methodist Church in the whole county. People from Clayville would drive all the way to Alexville to attend. There were two First Baptist Churches, one in Clayville and one in Alexville, but there were many other Baptist Churches spread throughout the county. All being formed by one group or another who had left the Baptist Churches years ago and started their own churches. There were so many different denominations of Baptist Churches that Cassie couldn’t remember them all. Mt. Zion Free Will Baptist, Hebron Missionary Baptist, Calvary Southern Baptist, Grace Primitive Baptist. The list was daunting. Each had formed over some disagreement concerning slavery or the end times. None but the two First Baptist Churches had over a hundred people.
Cassie’s family, except for her daddy who refused to go to church at all, attended Calvary Southern Baptist, a small white church on the outskirts of town. Her Aunt Essie, who lived in the back waters went to Mt. Zion Free Will Baptist. It had formed when members of Calvary had an argument about whether a person could fall from the grace of God. Aunt Essie sided with the fallers.
Cassie sat quietly in the azalea bushes and thought about the new church. What kind of people would grab up real live rattlesnakes and look them right in their snake eyes and dare them to bite?
“The Good Book says it aint ourn to tempt the Lord!” Cassie’s grandmother broke the silence. “Why, it’s like darin God to strike ’em dead. It’s a dangerous thing to be darin God.”
“They drank poison, too,” exclaimed Miss Janie. “Purantee poison. They think if they have enough faith, it won’t kill ’em.”
Cassie thought about what it would be like to actually touch a snake, let alone pick one up and dance around with it. She had always hated snakes. She believed there was something of the devil left over in them from back in the Garden when he used the serpent to tempt mankind into sin.
Cassie’s mother sighed, “Snakes have a look about ’em. Even the good ones look bad, all slimy and sneaky like their always up to something that just aint right. I always say the only good snake is a dead snake.”
Cassie believed the same thing. She wondered about the snake handling folks. What good does it do to dance around with something so full of poison it can strike a man dead right where he stands?
Cassie decided she would consult Willie T. about this snake handling business.
Willie T. Justice had been Cassie’s best friend for as long as she could remember. He lived next door with his granddaddy. Cassie always told Willie T. about the church ladies and their gossip. This was about as good a story as the day Ole Maggie had dropped by to show off her new teeth. She had been waiting a long time to get her government teeth, and when she finally got them, she was just about the smilingest person in the county.
Ole Maggie dropped by to see Cassie’s mama the very first day she had them. “Lily,” she said, “I finally got my gov’ment teeth! Aint they about the purtiest things you ever did see?”
Maggie smiled as wide as her swollen mouth would allow, and everybody had to admire her brand new teeth.
Ole Maggie went down to the dance hall at the National Guard Armory the first Saturday she had them, and on the way home she got so sick she had to hang her head out the window and throw-up.
Mama said, “Them teeth just went flying out that window like they had high-life poured on ’em.”
Maggie didn’t even realize till the next day that her teeth were gone. So everybody got together that Sunday afternoon and had a search party to look for Ole Maggie’s teeth. But we never did find them.
Granny said it was because of her showing off them new sparkly whites that caused it.
“Pride goeth before a fall,” she said. “If Ole Maggie hadn’t wanted to show off them new teeth down at the dance hall to all them men, she could be eatin corn on the cob and smilin right now.”
Granddaddy was real funny about the whole thing. He swore up and down, “Cassie, I bet a ’possum or bobcat got them teeth and was watchin everybody look for ’em just sittin up there in them woods and smilin at everybody with Ole Maggie’s teeth in his mouth.”
He’d take his own teeth out of the jar by the bed and put them in and prowl around the living room like a big ole bobcat. “Look at me! I got Ole Maggie’s teeth. The better to eat you with!”
He chased Cassie and Willie T. around and around the house just snapping his teeth and making so much racket that Granny chased him out with the broom. Cassie laughed so hard she just about peed her pants.
Cassie felt sorry for Ole Maggie. She’d waited so long for her teeth, and now she’d have to wait who knows how many more years before the government would give her another set. It was sad to see her walking around with that permanent frown on her wrinkled face knowing she probably had to eat mashed potatoes for every meal. She took to picking up cocola bottles off the side of the road for spare change. She told everybody she was saving up for another set, but Cassie knew in her heart of hearts she was always looking for the teeth she lost out the window that night.
Cassie slid backward on her belly out of the azalea bush and away from the kitchen. She thought she must look like a big snake crawling through the bushes, and had to clap her hand over her mouth not to laugh out loud.
She waited until she had gotten back around the side porch before she stood up to walk to Willie T.’s house.
Willie T. came to the front door wearing overalls with no shirt.
“What’re you up to?” he asked.
“I got somethin to tell you. Can you come outside for a minute? I don’t want nobody to hear.”
“Granddaddy! I’m goin outside with Cassie.”
Willie T. didn’t wait for an answer. His grandfather was deaf and had probably not heard him.
When they had climbed up the chinaberry tree, so they couldn ’t be seen, Willie T. said, “Alright what is it?”
“Have you ever heard tell of signs and wonders folks?”
“That’s them folks that take up snakes aint it?”
“Yeah, Miss Janie said they just started up a new church down in the backwater. Said they believe if you have enough faith you won’t get bit, or if you do, you won’t die from it. “
“Shoot,” Willie T. said. He said shoot like Cassie’s daddy said shit, dragging it out. “I figure it takes more faith to have enough sense to stay away from things that can kill you. Like you aint supposed to drank or fool around with your neighbor’s wife ’cause that could be a deadly thing. You might die from the liver disease or get shot.”
“Yeah, I reckon you got a point there.”
Cassie sat a minute contemplating the Signs and Wonders of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the End Times.
“Willie T.,” she asked, “why don’t we go down and check out that church?”
Willie T. peeled the bark off a dying limb on the chinaberry tree.
“You think that’s a good idea? I mean, I’d like to see them snake handlers myself, but what if one of them snakes got loose?’
“We could just watch from outside the window. We wouldn’t have to go in.”
“I reckon you’re gonna go whether I do or not,” he mumbled. “I reckon I’m in.”
“I’m gonna go right now and ask Mama if we can spend the weekend with Aunt Essie. Then we gotta come up with a plan so’s we don’t have to go with Aunt Essie to church tomorrow.”
“We could say we picked some blackberries and they made us sick.” Willie T. always had a plan stashed away for getting out of things he didn’t want to do.
They both spit in their hands and shook on it. This was an old tradition they had started back in first grade, nearly six years ago now. Once they did the spit shake, neither could go back on the other.
They stayed up in the tree until the church ladies began meandering to their cars.
When the coast was clear, they climbed down from their tree with the plan to go to Aunt Essie’s and spy on the Signs and Wonders of Our Lord Jesus Christ in the End Times.
“Bring your boots,” whispered Willie T. “We don’t want to chance one of them snakes gettin loose.”
“I’ll see you after dinner,” Cassie said. “Don’t forget to pack your church clothes. You don’t want your granddaddy to get suspicious.”
Cassie went into the house to ask her mama if she and Willie T. could go to Aunt Essie’s. Her Aunt Essie lived on the backwater and from the information she had gathered from the church ladies, she thought it wouldn’t be too far for her and Willie T. to get to the snake handling church and back while Aunt Essie was at church. They would have a good three hours as Aunt Essie’s church went on and on every Sunday. The preacher, the Reverend Josiah Brown, was what Granny called long-winded.
“Where did you get off to?” Lily asked.
“Just talkin to Willie T.” Cassie began helping her mother clean up the dishes from her coffee with the church ladies.
“I saved a ham biscuit for you,” Lily said.
“Thank you, I’m starvin.”
Lily made the best biscuits Cassie had ever tasted.
“Mama, you know how Aunt Essie’s been askin me and Willie T. to come and go to church with her?”
“Yes,” Lily said.
“Well I was wonderin, if it’s alright with you and Daddy, if maybe we could go today.”
“Did you get your room cleaned up?”
“Mostly, but I will do it right now.”
“Well, I reckon if it’s alright with Aunt Essie and Willie T.’s granddaddy, it’ll be okay.”
Cassie hugged her mama, “Thank you, Mama. I’ll go call her right now.”
“No, you go finish cleanin your room. I’ll call her.”
Granny was sitting at the table still. “Hmph,” she said in distaste. She didn’t like Aunt Essie much. In fact, she thought Aunt Essie was crazy. Granny didn’t trust anybody who got commodities. She thought Aunt Essie was crazy for putting up with a no-good, lazy husband and made that fact known anytime her name came up. Because Aunt Essie and Uncle Jessup didn’t make much money on their farm and had ten children, Aunt Essie had signed up to get surplus food. She would head down to the courthouse once a month and pick up all manner of food in a croacker sack.
Commodities consisted of big cans of food without real labels on them. Just tin cans with the contents marked in black on the side. USDA Peanut Butter, a block of cheese in a white box, green beans, rice, mysterious looking meat that was labeled chicken or pork but didn’t taste like either one, powdered milk, all in huge containers and marked with the government USDA stamp. The only commodity food that Cassie liked was the cheese.
After Cassie had eaten and helped her mother clean the kitchen, she went to her room to give it a good cleaning. She didn’t want to mess up her chance of seeing the snake handlers on a technicality, so she even cleaned under her bed.
When she heard her mama on the phone, she cracked her door to listen.
“Well, if you’re sure, Aunt Essie,” her mother said. Then a pause. “And Willie T. wants to come along, but if they’re too much to handle, Cassie can come by herself. She can help you with the butterbeans and okra.”
Cassie crossed her fingers, “Please, please, please.”
“Alright, I’ll bring them in a little bit. Now you make ’em help out in the field. Don’t let ’em get out of it. I know how you are. Promise me.”
Cassie hated picking butterbeans, but that was a small price to pay to get down to that new church.
“Okay then.”
“Cassie,” Lily yelled.
“Yes ma’am?”
“You and Willie T. can go to your Aunt Essie’s. But I’m tellin you Cassandra Eloise Williams, you had better be on your best behavior and help your Aunt Essie with her butterbeans. Your Uncle Jessup has hurt his back again and can’t pick, so you and Willie T. had better not play around. Lord knows J.J. aint any help, so I’m dependin on y’all to help her get them butterbeans in.”
J.J. was Jessup Jr. He was the only one of Aunt Essie’s kids who was still living at home. He was thirty-two years old and had followed in his daddy’s tradition of never breaking a sweat. When he was a baby, he had a bad fever that lasted a week and he never was quite right. He still liked to play with toys. He could be fun, but sometimes he’d throw a fit like he was three. He’d lie on the floor and kick his feet and scream at the top of his lungs. He was a big man, too, and had destroyed almost all of Aunt Essie’s nice things she had inherited from her grandmother. It was something to watch J.J. pitch a fit, but it made Aunt Essie have the nerves. She’d have to take one of her nerve pills and lay down for the rest of the day when he got going.
“Mama, can you call Daddy John and tell him we’re goin down to help Aunt Essie?” Everybody in town called Willie T.’s granddaddy, Daddy John. Even people who were older than him, though there weren’t many of them left.
“I’s just fixin to do that,” Lily said, her hand already on the phone.
“And Mama, I promise to help Aunt Essie. We won’t be no problem.”
“I’m countin on you, girl. Aunt Essie is, too. Now go on and pack some clothes. Don’t forget your Sunday dress. Aunt Essie said there’s a special program at church on Sunday.”
Cassie smiled. A special program meant at least an extra hour for her and Willie T. to get a look at the snake handlers.
“Yes, ma’am!”
Cassie went to her room to find the perfect clothes for spying. She packed her blue jeans, her heavy boots and a green tee shirt. She stuffed them in the bottom of her bag and put a layer of magazines on top in case her mama decided to look in the bag.
Then she packed her field clothes and topped the bag off with her Sunday dress and shoes. She imagined she was Mrs. Emma Peel going on a secret mission with John Steel. She pictured her and Willie T. sneaking up to the church in their covert operation.
She rummaged in her closet for her umbrella so Willie T. could play John Steel.
