The Killing Room (Richard Montanari) - By Richard Montanari Page 0,44
Mary Elizabeth Longstreet became a member of the Holy Thunder Caravan.
Ruby spent that summer traveling with the caravan, roaming across southern Ohio and northern West Virginia, to towns like Grand Run, Friendly, Sistersville, and Paden City. The Preacher liked to move along the banks of the Ohio River which, in the summer months, made it convenient to baptize folks.
At first there were just seven people in the entourage. You wouldn’t think by just looking at the tent and the hundred or so chairs that there was so much work involved in planning, moving, setting up, taking down, packing.
Ruby was not a big girl, but she was much stronger than she appeared. Many times she matched the two older boys who helped out.
At each stop the Preacher would set them up at a small motel or a campsite, then go into the town to spread the word. When possible he would get himself interviewed on the local radio station. He could always get the Holy Thunder Caravan mentioned on the religious pages of the local newspapers for free, but it wasn’t until he took a small ad in the entertainment section that the bigger crowds began to show up.
Some nights the Preacher would summon Ruby to his room. There he would sit in front of the mirror while Ruby brushed his beautiful golden hair. One of the few things Ruby carried that was of any value was her grandmother’s hairbrush. The brush had a gold-tone stamped metal handle, along with a base inset bearing a hand-embroidered floral petit point sample. Night after night Ruby would brush the Preacher’s hair – never fewer than one hundred strokes – while he regaled her with stories from the Good Book.
Over the next few months, while she toured with the caravan, Ruby spent much of her time with the twins, Abigail and Peter. The twins, who had been taken in by the Preacher when their parents were killed in an automobile accident near Elkins, were just toddlers at the time, and had been touched by the Lord in a way that made them special.
On many nights, when the tent had been struck and packed away, when the chairs and booths had been loaded into the truck, and the caravan was ready to depart at dawn light, Ruby would read to Abigail and Peter.
Their favorite story was from 1 Samuel, 17, the story of David and Goliath.
When Ruby was thirteen, her womanhood bursting, everything changed.
One evening, on a hot July night, just outside Moundsville, the Preacher took her hand and said, ‘Come with me, child.’
They went to his RV, a grand place where Ruby had never been. Inside were soft golden sofas, a television, and the ceiling was painted with a bright blue sky.
At the back of the main part of the RV, hanging from a hook, was a pink dress, store-bought and beautiful. The preacher told her it was hers, and that she should put it on.
They had supper, just the two of them, at a fold-down dining table. Ruby was so nervous she had to remind herself to chew her food. She had wine for the first time in her life.
When they were finished, and Ruby had cleared the plates, they sat across from each other on the sofas.
‘You know, the Lord has very big plans for you, Mary Elizabeth.’
‘He does?’
The Preacher waited a few moments, as was his way, then rose. This night he wore black, right down to his tie. He moved like a cat across the small space. He sat on the sofa next to her, took her hand in his. This close, she could see the small flecks of gold in his eyes. She felt light-headed at his nearness.
‘There will come a time – not for many years, God willing – when I will no longer be able to bring the Word to the people,’ he said.
‘Why not?’ Ruby managed. She fidgeted on her cushion, the store-bought dress a little too tight.
The Preacher smiled, and Ruby felt her knees begin to knock. She did her best to stop them.
‘Although I am young now, it will not always be so.’
She knew what he meant, but she could not imagine him any other way than he was at that moment. ‘Let us drink the Lord’s bounty,’ he said, handing her a crystal goblet. He took his own, and they touched the rims together, making a sound not unlike the pealing of a bell on a great, shining chapel on a hill.