LM Montgomery owns Anne of Green Gables. Margaret Mitchell owns some other characters. I own the characters you don't recognize from any stories you have read. And legal disclaimers are for the birds. Tweet Tweet.
"There's nothing to do," Jomishie said, swinging her feet against the wall around the cemetery.
"Then we need to think of something to do. Something we haven't done yet," said Nan.
"Like what? We already jumped rope, played hopscotch, played tag, played hide-and-seek..." said Faith
"And we didn't do it in the graveyard, either, so nobody can get mad," added Una.
"I wish the boys would come back," said Mary Vance. "Then we could really get a good game started."
"Nonsense," said Di. "We don't need the boys around to have fun."
Anna shrugged. "I don't know, I agree with Mary. I wish they would come back."
Jomishie shot her a disgusted look. "Boys are icky."
"Of course you think that way. You're just a child. You don't know anything about life," replied Anna haughtily.
"When I'm old enough," said Mary, "I plan to have a whole string of boys following me."
Una mused, with a thoughtful look on her face, "You don't need a whole string--just one who treats you nicely."
"Only 'nicely'? I want to be treated like a queen," said Nan.
"When do you think a girl is old enough for boys?" Wondered Di.
Faith answered, "I don't know, 15 or 16, I guess."
"Mama said I can court when I turn 30," said Anna, "But I think she's just kidding. I'll be to old to be courted when I'm 30."
"I won't be allowed to go to dances, of course, but I will expect flowers--candy and flowers would be very nice," Faith added.
Rilla sighed. The whole conversation bored her. Jomishie's mind had wandered off to pleasant pastures where no boys were allowed.
"Remember when we had that praying contest last week? That was something to do," said Nan.
"It was fine until Wade Jr. had to get up and pray in gibberish," said Mary.
"It was not gibberish, it was Latin!" Exclaimed Anna.
"Well, it sounded like voodoo, and it scared me half to death, especially when you girls did that thing where you hit your chest three times."
"You mean mea culpa, mea culpa...?" Asked Jomishie.
"That's it, don't do it again."
"You mean, don't be saying "Confiteor Deo omnipotenti, et vobis, fratres, quia peccavi nimis cogitatione..." added Anna glibly, exchanging amused glances with her sister.
"I didn't mind it," said Una, siding with Anna. "I thought it sounded pretty."
Before it could degenerate into an argument, Faith jumped up. "It's prayer meeting night. I almost forgot."
"Well, that's something to do," said Di.
"We'll go too," said Jomishie as she jumped down from the wall. "We'll meet you there?"
The Hamilton sisters walked back to their house, Jomishie looking forward to something different, Anna holding back a little.
Inside the house, Marybeth was in the kitchen with Lanie and Dilcey.
"Won't you tell us the baby's name yet? Just a little hint?" She was asking Lanie.
"Miz Marybeth, everybody'll find out on Sunday when she's baptized," Lanie answered as Dilcey raised her eyes to the ceiling. Lanie's mysteriousness was getting on her nerves.
"Because I need to know what name to put on this bond," Marybeth continued. "It'll mature by the time she's old enough for college, you know."
"Isn't it a bit too early to think about school? Any kind of school?" Lanie laughed.
"Don't you want her to have advantages?" Dilcey asked sharply. "I can't read, and neither can your mother. But you can read and write. What's the matter with you? Don't you want to see her do even better than any of us?"
"Well, yes, but..."
"The time goes faster than you think. It's wise to plan for the future, you know," added Marybeth sagely.
Conversation was interrupted as Anna and Jomishie came in through the front door, clomped up the stairs and back down again in a rush and yelled "Good-by, Mama!" down the hall before dashing out the door again, leaving Marybeth to shake her head.
"That must be what a herd of elephants sounds like on stampede."
The girls trotted down the road towards the church, but Anna was troubled. She stopped Jomishie when they got to the churchyard and said to her, "Do you think we really ought to go?"
Jomishie shrugged. "Why not?"
"Because it's a Protestant prayer service."
"You have anything better to do?"
"No, but maybe we should have asked Mama, first."
"But you can't go and ask her now, by the time you got back, you would be late, and Mama never lets us be late to church."
"Yes, but..."
"And I heard our brothers talking once--they said Mama went to Mass every day when they lived in Atlanta. Can you go to Mass every day here?"
"Of course not," Anna said, frowning. Jomishie was being annoying on purpose.
"Then I don't think she'll mind us going to Mass at the Meredith's church."
"But Jomishie, it's not Mass..."
"You can go back home if you like, I'll manage just fine, thank you." With that, Jomishie put her veil over her head and headed up the walk. Anna sighed, put on her own veil and followed her.
Una was waiting inside the door for them, but the other girls had already found their pews. If she was surprised at the Hamilton girls' head-gear, she didn't show it. After all, everybody in Glen St. Mary knew that Catholics were just--different. They followed Una up the aisle to the pew where Mary Vance was sitting with Miss Cornelia.
Anna, who was older and more worldly-wise, tried to blend in. She followed Una's example and tried to act like her, but Jomishie, who was younger, just behaved the way she always did in church. She walked reverently enough up the aisle, eyes demurely on the floor, but then she proceeded to genuflect and cross herself before sliding into the pew beside the others. However, something seemed wrong to Jomishie--this feeling hit her as soon as she'd walked in the door. Some indefinable something was missing. Something that should have been there. She bit her lip as she tried to figure out what it was.
Undismayed by the lack of kneelers, she simply knelt on the floor to pray, her forehead pressed into the back of the pew ahead of her until Miss Cornelia leaned across, tapped her on the shoulder and motioned for her to sit. And sit Jomishie did, as she proceeded to dig her rosary out of her pocket, where it had been since their family prayers after dinner, and to silently tell her beads. As she prayed, she tried not to stare at her surroundings. To her young eyes, used to dark stained glass, votive candles and plaster statues, the first impression of the Presbyterian church was not unlike being suddenly thrust into a foreign country. And, that something was missing...but what was missing...?
Miss Cornelia looked at the little girl, then across the aisle at Anne Blythe, who had attended this evening. Anne looked at her only a moment before she looked away, smiling. Miss Cornelia was pretty sure she thought it was funny. After all, the child wasn't behaving badly, just not Presbyterian. She was the absolute picture of childlike Catholic devotion and Miss Cornelia was at a loss what to do with her. She was almost positive Marybeth didn't know she was here. In her rather single-minded opposition to Methodism, Catholicism didn't enter her mind very much at all, but she did know that Catholics generally didn't approve of attending Protestant services of any stripe. So she debated whether or not to send Jomishie and Anna home. But before she could say anything the organ started playing and the congregation stood up. Jomishie stood up too, but she nearly dropped her beads when everybody started singing and stared, amazed at Miss Cornelia, actually singing in church.
When they sat down again, Jomishie sat down and resumed her beads as she listened, fascinated by English being spoken, staring at Mr. Meredith leading the prayers while wearing normal clothes. Then, partway through the sermon, she frowned, gasped, and turned her green eyes to Miss Cornelia before remembering she wasn't supposed to talk.
At the end of the service, when they were outside again, Jomishie tugged Miss Cornelia's sleeve. "You know what was different? Y'all don't use incense." It was the incense that was missing. Jomishie had been unconsciously sniffing for the familiar scent, but it hadn't been there.
Miss Cornelia, who took her theology very seriously, stared at the little girl, shaking her head in some wonderment, "No--incense." She said, weakly. That was the difference she noticed? Anne, who had paused to talk to Miss Cornelia, had to turn away quickly to keep from laughing out loud. It was the type of speech her children were wont to make at that age.