“He who holds the power holds the snake.”
“Shall I repeat?” Jeremiah says, raising his voice. “He who holds the power holds the snake.”
Luther takes the rattler, twisting in his hand. Luther starts to dance, moving his feet to a slow clog fast gaining momentum as sweat drops from his the back of his head to moisten his dark shirt collar. He clogs across the hardwood surface, and starts speaking in tongues.
“En zabba but, gradadish,” Luther says, his face contorting. “Enemise, zalbut, zeeenzabell. Inamut, zalsabatut. Zalsabatut. Zalsabatut.”
David leaps from his seat toward Luther’s energy. He walks to a Deacon holding a snake.
“With God as my witness,” David says, pointing and looking upward, to the sanctuary ceiling. “I want to take arms with the serpent.”
“Do you hear me Lord? I want to take arms with the serpent!”
David extends his right hand to the deacon, who places a four-foot, agitated timber rattler into the hand.
“Praise be to God!” Jeremiah shouts, raising both hands to toward the ceiling.
David closes his eyes, clutches the snake, steps back from the Deacon. He starts to dance and loosen his tongue as if he was under the heavy influence of a substance.
David’s shoes clap the floor, and sweat rolls from his brow and soaks his shirt, under the arms and down his back. A rhythmic rattle from the snake joins David’s words, spewing out like water sent gushing from a fire hose.
“Nabbadish!” he cries out. “Nabbadish. Shealamot. Shealamot! Onamaya mae, eeelsa milo mito wa.”
The snake writhes in David’s hands. David looks into the serpent’s eyes while both are gyrating. He falls to his knees, and holds out his hand for someone to take the snake.
Emma’s father gets it from David, who collapses on the floor, wailing.
“Ooohhh,” David cries.
“Bless you, David,” Emma's father says.
David cries out.
“Oh Holy Father forgive me! I have forsaken you. Shamed you. I have not embraced the serpent. Forgive me.”
“David. David. You are forgiven,” Emma’s father says. “The Holy spirit forgives you. Now, you are one with the serpent. Now, you can lead for the Lord.”
13.
A Day of Thanksgiving
David visits Emma for the next several weeks at the same time late on Saturday afternoon. Daylight saving has expired -- bringing sundown to Sand Mountain to just about the time he arrives each time, at just before 5 o’clock in the evening. David stays for about 30 minutes each visit, making small talk and asking Emma before departing if she has prayed over their union .
“Yes,” she has said.
“Good,” he has said. “God has called you to be my wife.”
“If you say so,” Emma has said.
On the Saturday after Thanksgiving, David and Emma are having ginger cookies in the parlor. David is frustrated Emma doesn’t say more to him beyond responding to his questions.
“Emma, we’ve been courting now for some time,” he says. “Might you want to ask me about my profession? Might you want to ask me about my family? Might you want to ask me anything besides how I drive my car and if I have read anything besides the Bible?”
“Yes,” Emma says. “Yes. I have a question.
“Might you take me to town? Might you take me to Ider? I’ve never been without my parents. Seems if I’m going to be a woman, if I’m going to be a wife, I should learn how to go to the market and buy something.
“You want to go to the market on Saturday evening?” David says.
“Yes, that’s what I want to do. You told me to ask you something. I did. Will you take me to Ider to the market? Please, David?”
“It’s a quarter past five,” Emma. “The market closes at six in the evening. We don’t really have time.”
“I don’t really need much. I guess I don’t need anything at all but to get out of the house and go.”
“Will your father approve?”
“He will if you say so. He will if you take me. And that’s what I want to do. I will buy some red and green die to make holiday cookies tomorrow. And I will see how it is done. For when I need to know how.”
“I don’t spec you will be going to the market by yourself very often,” David says.
“Oh?” Emma says.
“No.”
“Well, I may have to. And I’m not going alone this time either. But I want some die. And, I want to get the practice. That’s what I want to do. Go to the market. Are you taking me or not?”
“Fine,” David says.
“I’ll get my jacket,” Emma says. “You go tell me father.”