“Meg, dear.” Mother was looking stern. “How bad is it?”
“The church, you mean?” I asked. “It reeks. They have a hideous cleanup ahead of them, and for all I know, they might have to replace some of the wood and fabric that got sprayed. I’m not sure you can ever get the smell out of something organic.”
Mother nodded grimly.
“I’m glad I got to hear the dress rehearsal last night,” I added. “Because there’s no way they’re going to be able to give a concert in there tonight. And the boys will be inconsolable. What a pity.”
“We must do something!” Mother was using her Joan of Arc voice.
I felt a sudden wave of tiredness wash over me and yawned, hoping against hope that I wasn’t going to be included in her “we.”
“They will need a great deal of help for the cleanup,” Mother said. “And the concert must go on! I will speak to the rector. And the ladies of St. Clotilda’s Guild.”
I was relieved. So far I’d managed to resist Mother’s attempts to enlist me in the guild, which was Trinity Episcopal’s chief women’s organization for church and community good works. So while I probably couldn’t escape being sucked into the cleanup and whatever Mother had in mind for finding the concert a new venue, at least her organizing talents would be spread across the entire membership of the guild, and not focused solely on me.
“And look!” Mother’s voice held a note of warm approval. “There’s the dear rector now.”
I still did a double take when Mother used “dear rector” to refer to the new pastor of Trinity Episcopal. Most people just called her Robyn. Sometimes Reverend Smith if they didn’t know her that well, and in a few cases “that new girl” if they were traditionalists and disapproved of her gender and relative youth. Mother had fallen initially into the “new girl” camp until she figured out that Robyn’s theological stance corresponded almost exactly to her own: liberal social views and a very traditional high-church liturgy. And when Mother had discovered that Robyn shared her fascination with interior decorating, she skipped over the “Robyn” and “Reverend Smith” phases entirely.
“This is terrible!” Robyn was exclaiming. “I hear their church will be unusable for days. What a sore trial at any time, but at Christmas! We must do something!”
“Several somethings,” Mother agreed. “What did you have in mind?”
“As soon as it’s decent, we should start calling people,” Robyn went on. “We can get together a work detail to help with the cleanup.”
“I doubt if they’ll have the skunks removed and the crime scene processed for several hours,” I said. “You’ll have plenty of time to organize the work detail.”
I didn’t add that given the enormous size of the New Life congregation, they might not be all that short of helping hands. Why rain on an impulse that was both neighborly and ecumenical?
“I think the bigger problem may be finding a space for their concert,” I went on. “It could be a day or two before the church is habitable.”
“They’re welcome to use our sanctuary,” Robyn said. “I’m not sure we could fit in half the people who want to come. But we’ll work out something.”
“Reverend Wilson!” Mother called.
Reverend Wilson, who was still talking to Chief Burke and Michael, looked up. He returned Mother’s wave and the three of them headed over to join us.
“What a trial for you and your congregation!” Robyn said, taking both of Reverend Wilson’s hands in hers. “All our prayers are with you, of course. And we’re going to bring in some hands to help with cleanup. Have you thought of another space for the concert yet?”
“Sadly, no.” Reverend Wilson looked uncharacteristically doleful. “Nor for all our other Christmas worship and fellowship events.”
“I’m going to see if the college can offer some space,” Michael said. “Normally at this time of year there would be any number of classrooms and auditoriums standing empty. But since the college is hosting those big basketball and debate tournaments this weekend, I’m not optimistic.”
“The college has even borrowed some of the larger spaces in the county office buildings,” Chief Burke added. “So that option’s out.”
“And apart from the college and the county, I’m not sure anyone has a space large enough for our concert,” Reverend Wilson said.
“Could you have two concerts?” Mother asked. “One tonight and one Sunday night?”