A Particular Madness by Sheldon Russell

Author:Sheldon Russell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC025000 FICTION / Psychological; FIC043000 FICTION / Coming of Age
Publisher: Cennan Books of Cynren Press
Published: 2021-10-26T00:00:00+00:00

Uncle Ward opened his revival meeting the same night Uncle Duny opened his saloon. A dozen people showed up for the revival and twenty or so for the free drinks at Duny’s. “Amazing Grace” drifted out of the brush arbor, while “Devil Woman” was turned up high on Duny’s new juke, vibrating the windows. Unwilling to participate in either function, I sat in my Mercury, knowing there was no way things could end peacefully.

I could hear and see it all, like watching a horror movie at the drive-in. There was Uncle Ward, his hands lifted above his head, delivering his best lines on damnation and hellfire, while Hazel Morford humped and gyrated around the pole in Duny’s Drinks. The pole, having been constructed from an old water pipe Duny dug out of the ground, swayed precariously under Hazel’s enthusiasm.

Though tensions were high, all remained peaceful, until the pole gave way, dumping Hazel onto her back in the middle of the dance floor. One accusation led to another, and a fistfight spilled into the street. Duny’s patrons, now lubricated, followed the fight out to join in with shouts of Kill him! Stick him in the ribs!

Mesmerized by the scrap, I failed to notice that Uncle Ward and his Christian soldiers had gathered on the opposite side of the street. Ward’s piano player, a stout woman who played regularly at our church, was particularly agitated by Hazel’s bare breasts swinging hypnotically in the light cast through the saloon window.

I can’t be certain who threw the first punch, whether Christian or sinner, but soon enough, the whole town of Dunyville was embroiled in a street brawl. Taking sides struck me as a no-winner, so I cranked up the Mercury and drove to the top of the hill. From there, I watched the battle unfold, a battle similar to the ant wars I’d instigated as a child.

I couldn’t tell the origin of the fire or who might have started it, but soon flames licked at the thatched roof of Uncle Ward’s brush arbor. A short time later, another fire lit up the windows of Duny’s Drinks. It was as if the Rapture had come at last.

The sirens of fire trucks and police cars soon filled the valley. I cranked up the Mercury and pulled away with the lights off. There was little anyone could do now. Maybe Duny and Ward could settle it over a domino game in county jail; meanwhile, I had made my decision to leave Dunyville and to make something of my life, just as Rachael had said.

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