Light from Heaven (2005) by Jan Karon

Author:Jan Karon [Karon, Jan]
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2010-12-19T00:42:08.765000+00:00

Chapter THIRTEEN

Flying the Coop

"Father?"

He glanced at the clock: four a.m.

"Can you come?"

"I'm on my way."

Though he'd been called out in the middle of the night only a dozen or so times in his priesthood, he resolutely adhered to a common practice of fire chiefs--he kept a shirt and pair of pants at the ready, and his shoes and socks by the bed.

He was entering the town limits when he realized he'd just blown past a Mitford police officer.

No need to be surprised, he thought, when he saw the blue light in his rearview mirror.

The officer stooped down to peer in the window. "You were haulin'."

Clearly, Rodney Underwood had begun hiring people twelve years old and under.

"I was, officer. I'm sorry." He adjusted his tab collar, to make sure the officer noticed he was clergy. "It's Uncle Billy." To his surprise, tears suddenly streamed down his cheeks.

"Uncle Billy?"

"One of the most important people in Mitford. He's dying; Dr. Harper called me to come."

"Don't let it happen again."

"Certainly not."

The young turk shook his head, as if greatly mystified.

"I don' know what it is about preachers. All y'all seem t' have a lead foot."

In his room at Mitford Hospital, Uncle Billy tried to recollect whichaway th' lawyer joke started off. Was th' lawyer a-drivin' down th' road when he hit a groundhog, or was he a-walkin' down th' road? An' was it a groundhog or was it a sow pig?

His joke tellin' days was givin' out, that's all they was to it.

He looked at the ceiling, which appeared to be thick with lowering clouds, and with something like geese flying south.

Winter must be a-comin'. Seem like winter done come a week or two ago, and here it was a-comin' ag'in, hit was enough t' rattle a man's brains th' way things kep' a-changin'.

He shivered suddenly and pulled the covers to his chin.

Snow clouds, that's what they was! Hit's goin' t' come a big snow or worser yet, a gulley-washin' rain.

Bill Watson! What are you hammering about?

He hadn't opened his trap, as far as he knowed. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her settin' up in th' bed next t' his 'un, lookin' like a witch on a broom.

Did you say it's going to snow?

He lay as still as a buck in hunting season, and pressed his lips together so no words could escape.

Are you talking to yourself or to me, Bill Watson?

No, dadgummit, I ain't a-talkin' t' you, I ain't said a word t' you! Lord knows, you've fretted me 'til I'm wore to a nubbin. Now, lay down!

He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, in case they popped open and she saw that he was awake.

In a little bit, he'd try an' git his mind back t' th' joke about th' lawyer, maybe he'd stir up a laugh or two if anybody come a-knockin' on th' door, like maybe Preacher Kavanagh.

He breathed easier, then, and opened his eyes and gazed again at the ceiling. The geese had disappeared.

Gone south!

Hush my mouth? squawked his wife.

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