Hard Times Oklahoma - Cover

Hard Times Oklahoma

Copyright© 2012 by TC Allen

Chapter 11: Jesus Was A White Man

Leroy was nervous when stepped out of the truck and went around to open Cassie's door for her. They walked side by side up to the Duran's front door. He barely raised his hand to knock, when the door opened and a little girl greeted them. "Hi, I'm Ida Mae, just like in the song. My Ma is real nervous about meeting you alls. You nervous too?"

"Uh, well," Leroy tried to answer.

"Er, well," Cassie tried to answer, as she hugged Belinda tighter...

Harley appeared in the door behind his daughter, "You just met my daughter, Ida Mae. C'mon in and set your selves in the kitchen. My wife, Ida Marie, has got some coffee ready for us." Leroy noticed how light on his feet Harley was. The big man turned and led the way to the kitchen. A nervous Ida Marie began to remove the cloth from a freshly baked batch of cinnamon rolls, barely an hour out of the oven.

"Honey, this here is Leroy and his wife," Harley introduced them.

Leroy stood there with his mouth open, as he stared at the beautiful dark haired young woman who was Harley Duran's wife. Cassie stepped forward and held out a hesitant hand, "Hi y'all, I'm Cassie Jones and this here storky looking feller with the jaw hanging down is my husband. And this is our baby, Belinda." She looked down at the bundle in her arms and smiled.

"Please sit down," Ida Marie said, using the little speech she had practiced to herself for two days, "I am so glad you could come. Let me pour you some coffee."

Intimidated by the nice speech, Cassie sat and stared at the table. She was afraid to say anything. This older woman sounded so refined. "Thankee," she said in a small voice.

Harley said, "Sit yourself, Leroy."

Leroy sat and sipped his coffee. "This is very tasty coffee, Missus Duran." His self-tutoring was paying off. He sounded real refined.

"Oh hell, just call me Ida. I never been called Missus nothing in my whole life." Ida Marie smiled at Leroy and Cassie.

Cassie blurted out a surprised, "You are real nice and not stuck up at all."

"Well, I hope so." Ida Marie laughed answered, "I'd sure hate trying to go around, with my nose in the air and being mean all the time."

"I was afraid you was going to look down on us," the young girl said.

"Me too." Ida Marie answered. "I guess we both been jumping at conclusions." They laughed and enjoyed their coffee and rolls and most of all, each other.

By the time they were ready to leave for church services, the two lonely young women became fast and deep friends. Cassie loved the idea of Ida Marie as a friend. Before that all she had was Leroy and before him, no one.

Brother Moore waited at the entrance to the church. He greeted each arriving parishioner in turn, with a handshake and a smile. As times grew harder, dress clothes wore out and were not replaced. Clean overalls and a clean shirt were as dress up as many could afford. "Sunday go to meetin' clothes" were the least patched garments in a wardrobe that all too often consisted of two shirts and two pairs of overalls. In so very many cases, stockings and underwear were luxuries that could not be afforded.

The Durans and the Jones arrived and parked next to each other. Cassie started to ease herself and her baby out of the shiny old truck and looked around, feeling uncertain and self-conscious. Leroy felt nervous to be associating with "them folks." However, he was more determined to be one of "them," He stood on the driver's side of the truck and looked around. He compared his shiny pick up to other cars and trucks he saw parked along the street near the church.

Although the shiny old truck compared favorably to the others, there were a few newer vehicles. Also, he noticed the social division between the people who arrived in trucks and old cars and those who arrived in newer automobiles. The truck owners were definitely at a social disadvantage.

I'm going to git no, get me a nice car. It's got to have four doors. He noticed how "elegant" (His repeat word for the day.) it looked when people were not forced to bend and squat to get in and out of the back seat. People are going to look at me and see somebody. He walked around the pickup truck and joined his wife and baby.

The Durans got out of the Ford and Harley immediately walked around and joined his wife and daughter. They stepped up onto the curb and waited for the Jones to join them. The men led the way while their wives dropped back a couple of paces and began to chat with each other like long lost friends.

They had both begun their lives in dire straits. Also, both had proven they were capable of great sacrifice for those they loved. Right then, they were two nice young women who had a hunger for more. They didn't know what "more" was; they couldn't define it. All they were certain of was something was missing in their lives. And whatever it was, they wanted it. It was instinctive that they recognized the hunger in each other.

As the two couples walked up the steps and reached the landing, Brother Moore greeted them. "Welcome, friends." he said as he shook the men's hands and patted the women on their upper arms. A pat on the upper arm or shoulder was his way to make physical contact while still remaining within the bounds of propriety.

"Preacher," Harley acknowledged his presence and greeted him at the same time, as he shook hands. Ida Mae giggled and grinned at this gray haired old kindly man she learned to look up to and admire.

Ida Marie stepped forward and hugged the minister and whispered, "Thankee for everything." in his ear. Two old biddies, who stood nearby gossiping, looked at the honest display of gratitude and affection with scandalized eyes.

Brother Moore enjoyed the thrill he felt as such an attractive young woman brushed up against him in such an intimate way. He sighed regretfully, smiled and turned to greet the Joneses. "Brother Leroy. It is such a pleasure to see you here today. I hope this is but one of many times you attend this House Of The Lord."

The minister was amazed. He did bring Leroy Jones and his child bride. I do believe Harley Duran could make the "ladies" at the Baker Hotel take vows of chastity and keep them.

Brother Moore, in what he termed to himself, his "moments of weakness," visited the "ladies" on a semi-annual basis. He didn't realize his wife was not only aware of these visits, but also thankful for them as well. In her late thirties, at the onset of menopause, sex had become an actual chore, rather than the indifferent joy it had been before.

"Howdy, sir. Y'all shore has an elegant place here." There, he was able to use the word "elegant" once again in a sentence. But it was hard as hell to do with some of them words. "Ramification" was one he was able to use only twice when it was his "word of the day." Even then, Milt thought he was some kind of a crazy. It was sure hard work to git ... uh get to be somebody.

"Brother Jones, welcome. It is always nice to see folks such as you and your wife visit us. My. What a fine looking baby." Leroy and Cassie beamed their appreciation at the minister's words of welcome and praise of their baby girl.

He turned back to the Durans, "Brother Harley, this is indeed a pleasure. Have you gotten all moved in? If there is anything at all I can do to assist you, do please let me know."

"Thanks for the kind words, Preacher; there is one little thing you can do for me. I want to have you send this other money I promised to the lady we're buying our house from. There was all them other needful things like pots 'n pans an' bedding that we're using. I'll give twenty-five bucks on top of the other two hundred I promised because we are going to be using them."

Harley handed the preacher two hundred and fifty dollars from his still healthy stake of money. Others saw the transaction and gasped at the number of bills changing hands.

"Brother Harley, you and your family redefine the meaning of the word 'honorable.' I am humbled when I see you practice with ease what most of us struggle to do. Your agreement was settled yesterday when the papers were signed. You do realize such was the case?

"Naw, Preacher, papers is papers. But I know what I owe to others. I didn't know about all them other costs that banker was adding in. It ain't right for me to promise that they was going to get five hundred and then it comes up that them 'costs' is eating up my promise to them." Harley stepped on past.

The man and wife behind them in line heard parts of the conversation saw the large amount of money that was carelessly handed off. When they got with others, they added to the store of tales, which became a part the legend of Harley Duran.

An usher escorted them down the single aisle to an empty pew midway toward the front. Leroy slid in, followed by Cassie and the baby. Then came Ida Marie and Ida Mae. Harley sat next to the aisle. If necessary, two or three more people could squeeze in. The other pews in the small church rapidly filled. The reason for the big turnout was the curiosity of so many people to see first hand the quickly growing-famous Harley Duran. His blue-black straight hair was brushed back in a loose, shaggy pompadour the barber had trimmed nicely, but left longer than usual. His unconscious bearing warned all this was a man not to trifle with.

Kindliness shone through from deep within him, lighting his face and softening the menace seen there. He was a man of sharp contrasts and seeming great contradictions. He had the bearing of unconscious nobility, a modern version of Julius Caesar. Many were immediately attracted to his aura of strength and craggy masculinity. More than a few women wanted to sample it. He was unaware of it all, as well as indifferent.

Right on the stroke of ten, the front doors of the church closed and the minister strode up onto the podium. He took his place and without further ado, bent his head and offered a short prayer. A hymn was sung and people were sent to the various Sunday school classes.

The Jones and the Durans looked around uncertain of what to do. A grizzled old man came up and introduced himself, "Howdy, folks, I'm Walter Burch, one of the deacons in this here place. I see y'all don't know where to go, so I guess I'll show ye." He turned and walked away. The two families followed behind him.

He led them to the first door they came to and opened it. Inside were young children sitting quietly. A grandmotherly woman with a kind, wrinkled face smiled a greeting and personally escorted Ida Mae to a seat. The little girl looked at the faces of the other children who were also openly checking her out as well.

As soon as she was seated, Ida Mae turned to the girl next to her and said, "Hi, my name is Ida Mae, ya wanna hold my doll? Her name is Ida too. You can't have her, but if you want to hold her, it's alright with me."

The little girl she spoke to opened her arms and Little Ida passed her most prized possession over to her. The girl smiled softly and hugged the doll to her breast. "I used to hold my baby brother, Jimmy, like this. But he died last week and I can't hold him no more."

Tears trickled down her cheeks as she held the doll tight, and, eyes closed, rocked back and forth.

Ida Mae made a difficult decision, the hardest she ever made in her young life. She saw the sadness and grief in her new acquaintance, the hurting loneliness of living without her cherished dead baby brother. With a wisdom and compassion seldom found in children her age, she said, "Maybe she would like to come visit you for a while and be your baby sister. Would you like that?"

The doll hugged even tighter against her, the little girl couldn't answer because of the big lump in her throat. All she could do was nod yes and snuggle the doll and silently cry.

Ida Mae patted her on the arm and said, "I been lonely, too. It ain't good to be lonely. I bet he was a good baby brother." A fervent nod was her answer.

The Sunday school teacher witnessed the exchange between the two little girls. Her eyes, too, were tear filled. This would be a story to tell the others in the Ladies' Aid Society. In her own way, little Ida added to the luster of the name Duran after the teacher related the generous compassion shown by Ida Mae. The story of the shared doll spread.

Deacon Burch had led the Durans and the Jones to the last door and opened it for them. "Here is where you all's Sunday school is taught. They entered and took four seats all adjoining each other. There were a large number of other people in the class, about twenty or more or so. All turned and looked with open curiosity at the newcomers.

Leroy looked right back and greeted them, "Howdy, y'all. I'm Leroy Jones an' this here is my wife Cassie Jean an' her baby."

Cassie jerked on his sleeve and said, "Hit's your baby too, Leroy."

The others in the room laughed and Cassie blushed. Leroy continued, "An' this here is my good friend Harley Duran an' his wife Ida Marie." His Adams' apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. Leroy grinned and sat. Smiling, Harley nodded and the young women in the room felt the strength of his personality. Ida Marie looked apprehensive. She clutched her husband's arm and sat unmoving, as she stared straight ahead.

Miss Potts, the Sunday school teacher for this class, took her place at the front of the room and opined, "Well, I guess it takes someone famous to get some of you to attend church. Never mind though, I am glad to see so many of you here in attendance, no matter what the reason." The Durans were unaware of their newfound celebrity. They sat and listened quietly to the well-presented lesson. Although Sister Potts may not have been able to "catch herself a man," she taught well. Her spinsterish demeanor brooked no tolerance for idle interruptions.

Leroy listened close, as the lesson unfolded. Part of his mind had mentally undressed this pinch faced, and probably still a virgin, thirty year old woman. However, it was the lesson content that held most of his attention. At last, he could contain himself no longer. "You mean Jesus weren't a white man?

"Jesus was born of a Jewish girl who was probably thirteen or fourteen years old? Her husband, Joseph, was not Jesus' father?"

"You saying not only was Jesus, not a white man, but he was a bastard? And his mamma cheated around on her old man?" Leroy wondered if any of this lesson was correct.

Miss Potts had never confronted such total ignorance in her life. "Mister Jones," she asked him in an angry tone of voice, "Have you ever been in a church before in your life?"

"Nope. This here is my first time." He grinned at her in well meaning friendliness.

"Please, let us get back to our lesson. Any questions of this nature you must take up with Brother Moore." Leroy sat back in his chair, puzzled. If this was Sunday school and schools were where you went to learn, then why in hell couldn't he ask questions and learn? How the hell was he supposed to be somebody if he couldn't learn things?

Leroy kept his peace and the forty-five minute lesson was soon over and everyone headed back into the auditorium for the sermon. Miss Potts was horrified a person as low bred as Leroy Jones and his child bride were allowed in the church in the first place.

After all, church was for well bred, polite, nice people. It was never meant for people who did all sorts of sinful things. Only nice people should be allowed in church. Her attitude also explained her marital status.

The Durans and the Jones reclaimed the pew they sat in before and settled down to wait for whatever would happen next. Harley noticed the church was completely filled. He was unaware that he was the cause for the piety of many who came only to get a glimpse of the latest celebrity in a town with so few celebrities, past or present.

Leroy smiled at all the people around him with good will toward all. Cassie sat quiet, as she fussed with her baby. She had noticed other mothers in the audience were openly nursing their young, covering babies' heads and the exposed breast with a modesty cloth, usually a corner of the baby blanket. So when her own began to fuss, she did the same. Leroy noticed and thought of all the fun her breasts had afforded and would afford him. He smiled, happy in his own horniness.

Ida Marie looked at her daughter and, noticing the absence of the doll, asked, "Where's Baby Ida, Honey?"

"Well, Momma, there was a girl in Sunday school with a dead baby brother. She was real sad and lonely. Baby Ida is going to visit her and make her happy again. She was hurting inside, Ma, I could see her hurt." Mother hugged daughter and kissed the top of her head. She rested her cheek against the young child with old wisdom. Love flowed between them almost palpable in its intensity.

The minister took his place and began, "Today I was going to preach on how Samson slew with the jawbone of an ass. As we well know, a freely swung jawbone is dangerous indeed. A few in the packed auditorium chuckled at the humor. The preacher continued.

"Today, this church has witnessed a hunger for knowledge, a lesson in honesty and honor and a great lesson in loving kindness I feel inspired to address these issues, instead." He paused and adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses back up on his nose.

"This is well over double our usual attendance because many wished to see the man in the flesh who could be billed as the 'best known stranger' in our community. His deeds are as of the stuff of heroic tales. Yet he performs these deeds as if they were nothing. I am minded of something I heard many years ago. I cannot remember who said it, but it is very apt today. "I must do what I do because it should be done." Brother Harley Duran is the embodiment of such honor. He does not look for acclaim or praise. He is the embodiment of, 'I must do what I must.'

"Another saying comes to mind in reference to this man, 'to thine own self be true.' This man shames us all by actually being what many of us wish we had the courage and moral fortitude to become.

"I see I have embarrassed Brother Duran. For this I apologize, Harley Duran. Your honesty and sense of honor are such fine examples of what a man should be I feel compelled to bring them to the light of day.

"For those of you who do not know, Brother and Sister Duran have purchased a house in our town. He offered a very fair price for the house and paid cash. Then he learned that two hundred dollars of what he thought would go to the seller of the house would go toward the taxes and legal expenses which are part and parcel of such a purchase.

"Brother Duran did not shrug his shoulders and walk away from the situation. No. What he did was to assume the moral obligation to ensure what he promised he delivered. He dug in his pocket and came up with the two hundred dollars he felt belonged to the seller of the house, a young lady in dire straits. Two hundred dollars is a godsend to her. Then, because of the furniture and the bedding and dishes, he added another twenty-five dollars. Since he intended to use them, he felt honor bound to pay for them. These are the acts of the truly honorable man."

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