Baptists at Our Barbecue by Robert Farrell Smith

Author:Robert Farrell Smith [Smith, Robert Farrell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humor, LDS Fiction
Publisher: Deseret Book Company
Published: 2002-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-three

Bumpy

The day had finally arrived. After all the squabbling, after all the frustration and run-rampant speculation, it looked as though the barbecue was going to occur. A handful of Baptists had committed to attend, and just over a handful of Mormons had committed not to participate.

I picked up Brother Clark Bender and brought him over to Charity’s house. Martin, Loni, Clark, Sherry, and Orvil were all lined up to ride with Charity, Sister Reese, and me. It would have been a decent plan had Sister Reese’s van worked.

We men all stood over the engine pretending to know what was wrong.

“Great,” I said.

The only other vehicle we had was mine. Orvil and Sherry had ridden over on horseback, and I had crammed Clark, Loni, and Martin into my truck and brought them here.

“If we miss this barbecue,” Loni said, holding her large casserole dish full of beans, “I’ll just die.”

Martin put his arm around Loni to comfort her.

“We’ll find a way to get there,” I said.

“Sherry and I could go get our cars,” Orvil offered.

“You’d better,” I said, seeing no other option. Surely we would be late, but at least we would get there.

“Or you could use the truck,” Sister Reese said, suddenly right there beside us.

“What truck?”

“The truck,” Charity said, smiling.

I looked around for any sign of a truck.

“It’s back behind the old main house,” Sister Reese said, nodding her head toward an older home farther back on the property.

“Does it run?” I asked.

“It does,” she replied.

“What are we waiting for?” Sherry asked, heading toward the old house.

We all followed closely behind her.

I had pictured in my mind that “The Truck” was a large Suburban or Bronco. In reality, it was an old 28-foot U-haul truck. Sister Reese unlocked the back door and pushed it up. There was about a two-foot-high layer of clothes covering the entire floor.

“My word,” I said.

“The clothes are all clean and rodent free. This truck is practically airtight,” Clara Reese said, banging against the side of it.

“Should I go get the cars?” Orvil whispered to me.

I was sure it was illegal, but I was also certain we were going to be late if we didn’t leave as soon as possible.

“No,” I whispered back.

“What do you propose we do, then?” he asked.

“Hop in,” I said.

I suppose if I had really thought about it I wouldn’t have let everyone crawl into the back of that truck, but I didn’t really think about it. For some reason this particular combination of people and their prepared food dishes didn’t seem like a bad mix. Everyone climbed in, and I pulled the back door down and shut the latch.

“It’s dark in here,” Orvil yelled.

“You’ll manage,” I yelled back.

“What are we suppose to do the whole ride?” Martin asked.

“Pray,” I said, only slightly concerned for their well-being, as Charity and I jumped into the cab and revved up the engine. It roared to life, sounding like my Uncle Herman coughing after he had eaten a dairy rich dinner.

“Think this is all right?” Charity asked.

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