IV. Different Shades of Black
Indolent Little Boston burst into festive, preparatory activity on the well's inauguration day. Everyone contributed, whether it was food or manual labour, and wasted no time in finishing their complaisant gestures, aspiring to please Daniel in every way possible with their extra effort. Mary knew it would be simple for her to gratify the prospector: all she needed to do was wear his gift and he would be ecstatic. Antsy to debut it to the town, her prediction was that she would steal the attention everyone else craved. Great care was taken to not soil the immaculate garment while donning it and Ruth topped off her look by braiding her hair, tying it with a large white bow.
"Your boyfriend is going to think you're pretty," Ruth teased.
This time the taunt was ignored. It wasn't H.W. she wanted to impress but his father yet Ruth was still ignorant of that. Love and trust for her sister were strong but it was one secret she was averse in divulging. Right now, she purely wanted to do justice to the wonderfull gift and make Daniel proud.
The time came and the family walked towards the derrick where the rest of the townspeople were already gathered in wait for the kick off of the ceremony. Mingled at the foot of the gargantuan construction, every one was clad in their Sunday best but absolutely no-one compared with Mary. By then the black and blue on her cheek had mended good as new and was less of a provocation for Daniel to assault father, a blessing with the close proximity they shared on this day. Excited to wear the garment, she was also acutely cognisant that it was the brightest, most recent addition to the town other than the derrick and thereby attracted eyes of envious discernment. With all those prying stares upon her she reconsidered, thinking of how it would affect her family's standing in the community. Redoubtably, the influence would be negative despite the revitalisation of the entire town being initiated with the Sunday family, and if she had not promised Daniel that she would wear it that day she would have made a cursory retreat back to the house to change out of it.
"You look lovely, Mary," mother's friend Betsy McDermott complimented.
"Thank you," the girl said meekly.
"Where on Earth did your mother buy such a pretty dress?"
"Mother didn't buy this dress for me."
"No? Then who did?"
"Mr. Plainview did."
"Oh. I see." The curt words were laced with spitefull tumult. "He must really like you then."
"I suppose."
"Come now, Mary," mother called, gesturing for her daughter to join the family. "Up front where Mr. Plainview can see you."
Mary scuffled forward, positioned in front of Eli with the town's smaller children on either side of her. She spotted Daniel standing with the roughnecks at the mouth of the well, performing a final inspection of the drill. Superb in his expensive dark blue suit, no male other than H.W., emulating his father's dress, looked as dandy. Worries about the town's reaction to the dress faded with her optimism revived because perhaps Daniel actually did think of her as his and the dress was meant to reflect that and announce it to the town. Today she certainly looked like a Plainview if nothing more.
Daniel descended the wooden steps of the well's plinth quickly for a man with a weak leg, amiably greeting everyone along the way. Instead of stopping before them he headed straight for Mary. Bending down, he applied a chaste kiss to her repaired cheek that made her feel like she was being burnt alive, dually from the tender display and the prurient stares of the others. Amid the sweet scent of the new wood from the derrick, there lingered his musky cologne left upon her cheek and she breathed deep in enjoyment. Her hand was swallowed by his with a gentle request for her to follow his lead. She willingly acquiesced, ending up at his side before everyone she had ever known, her small hand still engulfed by his large one and H.W. flanking his opposite side. This was the family portrait she yearned to have and she wanted to capture and lock every bit into memory.
"I thank you all so much for visiting with us at this time," her substitute father began in preliminary. "I've had the pleasure of meeting some of you and I hope very much in the months to come I'll be able to visit with each and every one of you. I'm better at digging holes in the ground than making speeches so let's forget the speech for this evening, just make it a simple blessing."
Mary's attention roved to Eli who smiled and teemed with fanatical vanity, hands primly across his stomach as he awaited Daniel's presentment of him to the community. On her brother's behalf, she was publicly embarrassed that he was nothing more than an opportunist expecting this fine gentleman of business to market him and his holy cause. But what happened next surprised even Mary: the young prophet had pushed the oil man so the oil man was going to shove back.
"You see," soliloquised Daniel, "one man doesn't prospect from the ground. It takes a whole community of good people, such as yourselves, and this is good. We stay together. We pray together, we work together, and if the Good Lord smiles kindly on our endeavour, we share in the wealth together. Now, before we spud in Mary's Well Number One…" He and Mary shared a quick glance and the profusion of tacit affection exchanged between them alleviated the mounting tension. "…named for the lovely Miss Mary Sunday, here by my side…" Those words choked Mary with happiness; she was finally at his side where she belonged. The victory, however, wasn't long as he glared at Eli and delivered the mortal blow: "…a proud daughter of these hills, I'd just like to say God bless these honest labours of ours, and, of course, God bless you all. Amen."
He told H.W. to go and the boy bolted up the stairs to start the drill as fast as he could by direction of his father. With a clang and a bevy of mechanical noise it roared to life. The well was officially sanctioned and ready for drilling.
"That's it, ladies and gentleman!" proclaimed Daniel above the racket. "Al Rose has very generously provided some refreshments for this occasion out of his own pocket. Thank you, Al. If you'll all just care to help yourselves, I'll be back in a minute."
Turning to Mary, he cupped her face in his hands and bestowed another kiss to the top of her head. More heat spiked through her body in competition of the desert breeze blistering their skin. Before her swoon had time to subside, he was off, leaning heavily on the railing as he ascended the stairs to the derrick. The bewitched child stole a quick glance at the object of her affection while he climbed then turned her back so as to not stir any cruel hearsay that would further mar his reputation. The dress had been more than enough to accomplish that, a demon with wicked intent and all.
Demoralised and seething in pretentious ferocity, the abrogated but unwavering Eli slunk away like the serpent in paradise but with better continence than Mary gave him credit for, his obsequious church members tailing behind. Snickering to herself, she enjoyed knowing that he was not as resilient as she. And he claimed to be better than her! None of them concerned her in the least any way. She was at Daniel's side in other ways heretical to her brother and their loose family bond. She truly was a proud daughter, though surrogate it may have been.
While she lumbered back to her biological family, a few of the children coerced her into playing chase, a welcome acquittal from sharing in the social meal where Eli would regain control by presiding over saying grace. She wanted no part of his showboating if she didn't have to be and tagged along with the others her age. Instead of her definite fate at the table, she craved joining H.W. and his father by the drill. It wasn't fair that Daniel had given her a taste of what could be when she was ready to feast like a glutton! But father, who had been searching for her, demanded that she partake in supper and the prayer before she could cleanly break away. There was no choice but to meet her obligation of sitting with the family, eating and suffering through Eli's hypocritical supplication. To help herself through, she ruminated on Paul's welfare, whereabouts and if he was in good company with plenty to eat. She needed to remember to ask Daniel about her brother and his peculiar wanderlust in hope of setting her mind at ease.
The mealtime affair's never-ending duration was Hell and she squirmed with anticipation for its end. When at last it did, she was relieved to recommence the games with the other children. By this time H.W. materialised from out of nowhere and joined in. With the sun well beyond its zenith, the land progressively cooled, granting her a second wind. Round and round she raced, pursuant and pursued along the line of tables with the others. The great lingering heat bore its toll on them after thirty prolonged minutes, slowing them from running playmates to huffing joggers.
Father sat alone at the table while the rest of the family were either socialising or grabbing last chance seconds. Gratefull that he left her alone, she muttered a quick prayer only to ask that he continued to mind his own business. At the far end of the table while making her turn she staggered, nearly tripping over her own foot. Recovering, she thought how unforgivable it would have been if her dress had gotten soiled. Both mother and Daniel would have been upset, there was no doubt, and that in turn would upset her. To worsen matters, father would christen her an ingrate then hit her for ruining the new outfit just to show Daniel that he could. Only a tragic ending would come out of that scenario.
Unbeknownst to her, as she careered around the opposite length of the table, Daniel had seated himself across from father and his arm shot out to hook around her midriff, halting her short. The unexpected motion scared the daylights out of her, exacerbated when she realised who had accosted her.
"Mary!" he addressed, drawing her around to face him. "Mary Sunday!"
She was dynamite ready to detonate for reasons twofold: her puppy love crush on the older Plainview still made her writhe whenever he was near and because they were beneath father's critical eye, kept peripherally upon them despite his evident intimidation by the oil man.
"Do you like your new dress?" Daniel questioned gently, taking her hands into his.
"Yes," she responded in her usual sheepish manner. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. I thought you'd like it." Then his tone changed faintly to belie his indirect, unsubtle contestation: "Are you happy I came here?"
One needn't be an adult to decipher what those words evinced to the other man across the table who glared at Daniel from the corner of his eye.
"Yes," she quickly, stealthily replied. The truth of it stabbed father in the heart but she did not care. She would not lie to the man she idolised and whose company she preferred. She was raised to tell the truth, no matter who it hurt. Since when did father own a heart any way?
Placing supportive hands over her shoulders, Daniel's compassion hinted an understanding of how it was to be in her shoes. Perhaps he did understand and this was why he'd readily taken her under his wing. Much like he had with Eli only an hour ago, Daniel got to the crux of his onslaught against the Sunday men: "Your daddy doesn't hit you any more, does he? Does he now?"
The girl was stunned at the unfaltering nerve this man possessed to stand against the one person she feared above all others. Speechless, she could not meet his eyes but he held her firmly and leant in closer to her. As he drew nearer, she smelt not only the saltiness of sweat on his skin but the overpowering stench of whiskey, as customary as his kisses, on his breath. Though he spoke directly to her, the girl was aware with trepidation that Daniel was speaking obliquely to father, warning him.
"Better not, right?" he instigated. "I'll take care of you." His hand slid from her shoulders, down the length of her arms and took her hands in his again before continuing to pound in his point like a hammer. "No more hitting, right? No more hitting. Now go. Go and play some more and don't come back."
Disoriented by the magnitude of what transpired, Mary bulleted away, leaving her angel between her and her tyrant father, as Daniel nonchalantly removed the flask from his jacket pocket and drank, inspecting with unbridled hatred the expression of father who watched his daughter yield pliantly and without question to the oil prospector. From a safe distance, she caught the two men exchange austere, unspoken threats before father passively bent to Daniel's more officious glare and dropped his eyes to the table.
Retreating from the silent war, she drifted out of the range of the assembly and found H.W. sitting quiescent outside the mess hall. For several minutes the children were together in peace, the boy tossing pebbles across the field from a pile he'd stacked earlier on the steps. A few of them were dropped into her upturned palm as a benevolent beckon and she joined his sport.
"Your dad asked if my dad still hits me," she casually informed her companion.
H.W. only skipped his rocks.
"He asked me in front of my father and my father heard him."
"Don't worry. My dad won't let him hit you again."
Mary opened her mouth to reply but the words died in her throat when they overheard two men locked in verbal battle. With a finger raised to his lips, H.W. signalled her to speak not another word and she nodded comprehension. Judging by their voices, the arguers were their fathers, separated from the gathering to tangle in this most inhospitable discussion. Before being spotted, they scrambled for cover around a corner, intending to eavesdrop as the men halted near where they recently had been.
"There are no excuses," Daniel was stating. "You're a bully and a coward. Only a bully and a coward picks on children and I will not tolerate it."
"It's not up to you as to how I run my family, Daniel," father countered, his voice calm, brave and hiding his fear of physical reprimand. "It's up to God, not any mortal here. The Good Book warns Spare the rod, spoil the child. My children are God fearing as a result and it's fared them well."
Neither man was willing to back down from the other: Abel Sunday, in his passive-aggressive manner, invented a defensive apologia for the ill treatment he imposed on his children but Daniel's articulated disdain, bluntly called the other man out on his crime.
"Your children don't fear God, Abel," corrected the prospector, "they fear you. If you need to make your children fear you then that makes you an incompetent parent."
"I beg your pardon, but who are you to question my parenting methods? What makes you think you have the right to invade our land and are entitled to change our way of life?"
Daniel glared at the other man to underscore his hostility: "I own this land. I own everything beneath it and everything on it." Then he finalised with added malignity: "Some people shouldn't be allowed to breed. You're one of them."
Ending the laconic criticism of his despised foe, he mounted the steps and entered the mess hall, leaving a confounded Abel to stew in antipathy. A few seconds passed before he regained the sense to skulk away, his injured pride tucked between his legs like the tail of a wounded dog.
"See?" H.W. whispered volubly. "I told you my dad would protect you. He said he would and he never goes back on his word."
Mary never had any doubt that he would.
Day in, day out Mary monitored the cloak and dagger enmity that persistently developed between Eli and Daniel since the prospector's nonfeasance of presenting the young cleric at the inauguration. Unappreciative of the newcomer's wiles, Eli matched any deceit and ambition from his older rival blow by blow. The days were counted and she privately set the date of Eli's next orchestrated ploy of vengeance. The enormity of the power struggle between the influential men rocked Little Boston worse than the earthquake had. The ambitious holy man and the weathered oil man were both viable potentates of the land: one born of it, the other owner of it, and the people of Little Boston were flotsam tossed in the maelstrom as they fought to stay out of the way.
Whereas initially the population of the small town had been hypnotised by the sweet nothings Daniel once whispered in their ears, in the ensuing weeks they came to view the incursion of the prospector and his men with sullen remonstrance. True to his word, they received everything he'd promised and their plain agrarian lifestyle improved in those aspects. But the exchange was too precious a sacrifice when their freedom was trampled over and, despite the encouragement to carry on with their normal lives, it was impossible to temporise life without beleaguering the drilling. The dispirited town was one torn: bifurcated between those who thought Daniel had come to save it and those who were convinced he was sent to damn it. Unable to adapt, many embittered families abandoned the homes they'd spent generations in, cursing the day Little Boston traded its Bible black simplicity for oil black complication.
On the flip side, nothing but salutory improvement was abound for the littlest Sunday. With a majority of her time spent with H.W. at the purlieu of the Plainview cottage or the fields, she took no further delivery of punishments from father. Her crush on Daniel was better subdued thanks to longer amounts of time spent near him. With time, her dreams were realised in that he'd accepted her not as a mere playmate for H.W. but as a full-fledged member of his family, referring to her as such when he greeted her with the usual paternal kiss upon her head. Inasmuch as her fear gradually receded, her love for him thrived greater each day.
"Mary Plainview," he addressed when he returned home one dusky evening. "Do you like the sound of that? Would you like it to be your name some day?"
The implication coloured her cheeks as she stared at the ground and bit her fingernails fretfully, nodding. He reached down to take her fingers from her mouth.
"Don't do that, young lady," he gently scolded. "It's a bad habit. Leave the bad habits to us men."
He crouched down, his bad leg troubling him, then pulled her into a warm embrace.
"I love you," he confessed quietly in her ear. "Do you love me back?"
"Yes," she responded truthfully, her throat tight and voice grating.
"Good."
He kissed her forehead and stood upright with a grimace. After duplicating the affectionate display with H.W., he entered the cottage and the children recommenced their play.
Nightfall sent Mary dreams of what she considered an ideal life: Daniel discovered that he was her real father and burst through the door of the Sunday homestead, furnishing the substantial documentation to Abel. The old man had no choice but to relinquish custody to her rescuer who swept her away to live with him and H.W. in a house at an undisclosed location. Lost time was made up for as he spoilt her rotten, amending the poverty and abuse she had always known with the lavish riches and abundant love she rightfully ought to have had all along.
I'll take care of you. His pacifying vow resonated through her memory and dreams. I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you. I'll take care of you…
Morning brought her to the bricolage church where Eli was holding service for a small group of his most dedicated epigones. A reluctant observer, Mary wanted to be anywhere other than the church where the purveyor of her misery reigned. Her preference: at the Plainviews. Tired of subjugation by religion, she desired to break free in every aspect, even if it meant selling her soul to the black unearthed God who Daniel served. Nothing could be worse than this ecclesiastic nightmare, it just couldn't be.
Her obligation as a sister and a Sunday was mechanically performed, watching from the rear of the room while Eli's adjuvant gift cured old lady Hunter of her arthritis. Footsteps across the bare boards beside her drew Mary's attention midway through the grand spectacle as someone stepped into the chaotic chapel and slid in to stand behind the back row, bending down to excuse himself to the man sitting in front of him who was erroneously bumped while he squeezed in. The great seraph at last had found his way to church, come to bear witness first hand all the abysmal weeping and gnashing of teeth demonstrated inside the supposed house of worship! His fair eyes blazed with fiery abhorrence so that even she feared to disturb his investigation of the religious histrionics. Rather she sat quietly and observed him, relishing in the overcast expression that turned his eyes into invisible daggers that slit her brother's throat. He was offended by her brother's antics and who was a greater authority on all subjects holy than a mighty seraph? The weight of worry did not trouble her. If he decided to smite them all where they stood, her love and faith in him would leave her untouched.
Eli's whisper burst into a denied shout about the removal of a ghost, but Mary was busy contemplating Daniel's reason for finally appearing in church. Perhaps he'd heard so much about the flagrant exploits he needed to see them for himself. But what purpose would it serve other than to entertain him? Was he planning to exact a justifiable retribution against her brother as well? He did not sit but stood glowering throughout the entirety of Eli's outlandish animated scenario, patient only by way of perverse fascination. Finding it too ridiculous for his liking, he turned and walked back out the door, disappointing her that he had not noticed her vying presence.
An audacious peep revealed him waiting outside, making a poor effort to hide his disapproval for what he couldn't fully ignore inside. An urge to wave to him was suppressed because he looked so angry that she thought better of it. After the exhibition stopped another ten minutes later, Mary united with a large portion of the congregation as it left, hoping to be lost among their numbers and go unnoticed by her adopted father. Sensing the blackness of the angel's unannounced presence, the little girl wanted to escape him for the first time. A moment of panic pierced her when the crowd bottlenecked at the exit because Eli was there bidding them a good day and blessing them. When the man in front of her stopped to shake Eli's hand, she saw her chance and charged through the group to outdoors. Daniel slowly ambled toward the entrance again where Eli was saying good-bye to his sheep, his head down as he walked so he missed Mary skid around the corner of the church.
Her only wish was to keep Daniel nearby, not to listen to what they were saying. Their topic was the gruesome, untimely death of a roughneck named Joe Gundha at the well and Eli's overbearing lecture about his disrespected wishes to bless the well and the flouting habits of the roughnecks. Already the bad dreams shaped in her subconscious with every syllable uttered. What fixed her in place was the opportunity to watch another round of the cruel pastime the two men engaged each other in at every given moment. The roles were switched this time: Eli was the cat taunting Daniel's mouse yet the oil entrepreneur did not relent. Mary wanted her brother to squirm in the exclusive way that only Daniel could manage; she felt avenged and loved every second.
Eli vaunted with increased persistence that numbed Mary's brain but the impervious Daniel closed the gap between himself and the cleric, holding an arresting stance as he argued for his men's unrestricted freedom from Eli's impractical Bible thumping. The two interposed each other's sentences and neither probably heard the argument of the other for want of the upper hand. For a moment Mary expected him to strike Eli down, but Daniel had a solid control of his explosive nature as he tried to reason with the younger man. She wanted desperately to see Eli smote down by the hand of her angel and would have sold her soul to the highest bidder to see it! Wicked as it was, she willed it to happen by holding her breath and concentrating as hard as she could.
The strain between the men was granted minuscule relief when Daniel stepped backwards a few paces not as a man backing down from adversity but as one whose word was final, asking Eli to see to Joe's possessions and make certain they were sent back home. The preacher held his tongue, not bothering to look at his opponent. But the prospector couldn't resist a sudden stop then turned for one last biting remark.
"Heard you were planning some renovations," he lured.
"Yes, our congregation is growing strongly," agreed Eli. "We need more room."
"That was one goddamn hell of a show," lampooned the oil man then strolled away.
"We were happy to have you, Daniel," the Pharisee returned, pretending to be the bigger person with insincere welcome.
While Eli's attention was on the back of the departing Daniel, Mary dashed off before her brother discovered her secretly loitering. Deeply rooted within her was the temptation to circle around the church after her father figure who was returning to his office. Terror of getting caught rerouted her to the Plainview residence instead. No harm would come to her if she followed, she trusted; she simply did not want to hear Eli's querulous reprimand and he would definitely give her one after the verbal tussle he'd just dealt with. Besides, H.W. was probably lurking around the cottage and his company sufficed for the time being.
True to form, he was sitting out on the porch in a ramshackle chair, engrossed with a book in his lap, head bent low to the pages and supported with elbows propped up on his knees. Unaware of her proximity untill she stopped and called to him, the boy startled. She laughed and it was returned once his natural colour came back to him.
"What are you reading?" she asked, craning her neck to better her view of the book.
"Nothing," he replied flippantly. "A book about economics."
"Economics? What's that?"
"It's business stuff."
"Why are you reading it?"
"If I'm going to take over my dad's business someday I have to know this junk."
"Don't you learn about it in school?"
"I don't go to school."
"How come?"
"My dad says I'll learn all I'll ever need to know from him."
"Then why are you reading the book?"
H.W. shrugged.
"I dunno. Something to do, I guess."
Horror squeezed Mary's suggestible heart as she inquired, "Your dad doesn't force you to read books about economics like my dad forces me to read the Bible, does he?"
"Nah, I told you. My dad's not like that. I'm reading it 'cause I want to."
The girl was relieved.
"I can think of a million other things to do that's better than reading about economics."
Crafty H.W. smiled then asked, "Better than reading the Bible too?"
Mary smiled back, answering, "Much better."
The boy snapped the cover of the book closed, rose from the chair and sat on the steps, scooting over to make room for her and the pair stared at the busy, clanging derrick over the sandy knolls. The fresh news about Joe Gundha's death dampened Mary's good spirits untill she could not help but to question her friend about the details of the misfortune.
"I heard about what happened," she disclosed to her friend. "To that man."
"To Joe?"
"Your dad was telling Eli about it. He told him to speak at the burial tomorrow."
"Yeah. I don't want to go but my dad says it's a great goodwill gesture for me to be there with him. It builds loyalty and trust in the workers."
"I'll be there if you want company."
"I'll be with my dad. But you can join us."
"Then I'll come. I'll probably have to any way if Eli's going to preach."
"He's only supposed to say a few words to honour Joe."
"He'll preach. That's what he does. It's what he always does."
The day of the burial was a solemn dedication to Joe Gundha's life. A skeleton crew remained to work at the well while everyone else paid respects to their fallen brethren at a modest grave site. The burial place was a small plot on the patch of land that native Little Bostonians used for their dead but they were happy to accept Joe into their most sacred grounds. Several morose townsfolk attended the interment, among them the pious Sunday clan because father believed it blasphemous if they did not show. A small mercy was given that Eli had earlier ventured to the graveyard with congregation members for preparation so the family was not graced by his presence.
Hearts filled her eyes when she glimpsed the statuesque Daniel and impish H.W. at the forefront of the crowd, dressed impeccably and with great expense. H.W. glimpsed Mary and waved. Her lips parted in a wide smile as she fought to maintain her place with the Sundays when she yearned to join her friend and her angel. But it was a different story when Daniel's eyes fell on her and he called her over. Inertia cracked, she charged away, a thoroughbred out of the starting gate toward the Plainviews. The furious dissension that emanated from Abel and Eli smothered the atmosphere as Daniel swept her into his arms.
"My sweet Mary," he inveigled with praise loud enough for the Sunday men to hear, brushing back a lock of hair errant from her braid. "How are you today?"
"Fine, thank you."
"I'm glad to see you here. It makes an otherwise gloomy day much brighter."
A few affectionate kisses were planted on her forehead, his moustache prickling her skin like cactus needles.
"I love you so much," he professed. "Stand with me and H.W. where you belong, won't you?"
Taking her gently by the arm, he positioned her on his side opposite H.W. before she could answer then, replicating her crowning moment during the spudding-in ceremony, clasped her hand into his in the manner of a doting father. A discernible boiling wrath wrangled with Eli beneath his collected hidebound façade. Playing the devil's advocate, further provocation was incited when she stepped closer against Daniel purely out of spite.
"My friends," Eli's charismatic elocution cut above the murmur of the crowd, efficiently ceasing it. "I wish we could be gathered today under better circumstances but we are not. Last night a tragic accident sent Brother Joe Gundha home to be with our Lord. Mr. Plainview," the two men traded barbed glares, "has asked me to deliver a eulogy with some kind words in Joe's memory. And so I shall. I am told that he was a 'man of considerable faith'. Yet he did not attend our services at the Church of the Third Revelation as he should have. It is with my most sorrowfull regret that I was unable to spend more time with him because he could not find the time to spend with us despite his faith. He was welcome at our church. But he was a slave forced to forsake our Lord in favour of another God, a slick black God residing suitably beneath our feet."
The muscles of Daniel's hand tightened although his grip on Mary kept an unvarying light pressure. He itched to knock Eli off the pedestal he sat on for using the last valediction for a hapless man – one of his men - as grounds to transform a grave into a battlefield. She felt that insinuation pulse throughout his body and knew that everyone else did too.
"Let this accident be a cautionary reminder that we cannot neglect our duties to the Lord," the obnoxious rodomontade continued. "The afterlife placement of our souls is an individual responsibility that we cannot afford to neglect, for if we do, then we will be cast into everlasting fire. I can guarantee you that there is no worse place in existence than one without God. There will come a day when blackness will rain down upon us and we must then take extra measures to keep ourselves as pure as snow. We cannot follow Brother Gundha's example and let this infernal blackness contaminate us. We must remain strong and resist it. Too many have already sold their souls to it. Those who have not strayed must continue to stand strong. Those who have must break free and seek salvation in the One True God. We cannot afford to be lukewarm. The Devil's furnace is waiting to roast those who don't stand with God. Whether or not Brother Gundha will find eternal peace in His infinite mercy I cannot say. It is not for me to decide. Our God is forgiving and perhaps can dismiss his trespasses. I'm sure He will. Even so, let's not forget the sacrifice Brother Gundha made to bring this matter to our attention and spare the rest of us from his fate."
Eli's imprecations ended and he crouched to take a handfull of earth, turned his back to the crowd and tossed the dirt on the coffin residing in its eternal resting place.
"Rest in peace, my Brother," he mumbled almost to himself.
Daniel growled low in his throat, his jaw clenched tight. With pointed efficiency, Eli's captious speech summarised all of his derogatory assessments and drew the quantal lines across the field: choose either Daniel's oil black God or Eli's Bible black God. Ambivalence was unacceptable and perilous. A clear holy war had been waged and she was helpless to do anything other than wait and hope that Daniel's God extinguished the reign of Eli's.
A few days after the memorial service, more bad luck occurred at the well. A piece of the drill pipe snapped off nine hundred feet below the surface and the men needed to execute a process called fishing to salvage what broke off. Fletcher explained the procedure to her and she soaked up the information like a sponge, genuinely fascinated with the men's work. Odd, she thought, that the tough, masculine men in Daniel's crew never underestimated her for being a vacuous female like father and Eli did but instead took time to actually teach her things. She loved them immeasurably for the benefit of their doubt and the chance to prove how smart she was. For that, they were immediately counted as members of her adopted family.
Weeks plodded by and the men still could not locate the damaged piece, postponing the drilling indefinitely. The dilatory problem united Eli and father in unbearable gloating, voicing their opinion behind Daniel's back to everyone and anyone who would listen and those who wouldn't. Things were going awry because of the discarded blessing, they asserted, and thanks to several of the oil man's greatly exaggerated fallacies pointed out by Eli. Had Daniel's faith been strong and his word good then the work would've been running effortlessly. Later that night he took it upon himself to visit with Daniel who was busy helping the men fish. She knew that her poor father figure was getting an earfull about how his weak, heterodox faith was his failure and if he would just share Eli's convictions things would resolve for the better. A bad taste had been left in Daniel's mouth after the funeral that the oil tycoon was eager to spit out. Father would at last give him the excuse he needed to do just that.
This conversation between father and Daniel went unheard by Mary because she was in bed by the late hour in which it took place. What was said was laid out to her in great detail beforehand in a discussion father had with Eli and mother during supper. He would no doubt repeat the scolding tirade to Daniel word for word, Mary knew from experience. Father was unused to speaking to people he could not control and Daniel was not a malleable child. The abrasive prospector wouldn't welcome the unsolicited input. Sleep was easy for her in knowing that father would be put in his place for once.
The next day father was uncharacteristically quiet. Even while Eli rambled incessantly about Daniel's streak of misfortune, all father mentioned was that the men were back at work after finding the broken end last night. The news shut Eli up and new dastardly plots busied his mind. A tickle of laughter rose up inside Mary who swallowed her milk hard to keep it down. Then and since father furtively retracted from the epic war, owing to Daniel's successfull intimidation. Good, thought Mary. Now he knew how it felt.