Part two of the Shenandoah series.
Josiah sat and worked on his next assignment, nothing. Chris hadn't given him anything yet that morning and he was basking in the peace without work to do. He opened his music play list and softly played 'Sunday in the South' loud enough for his own ears to hear. Vin walked by him and stopped.
" 'Siah, I love that band. Think ya can make me a copy?" he asked with a smile.
"Sure Vin, not a problem." Josiah hummed the tune. I can almost hear my momma prayin' Oh Lord forgive us when we doubt another scared Sunday in the south.
That evening Josiah sat in his rocking chair on the porch reading his Bible. Something he did to "cool down" from the stress and long days in the bull pen. A moment later Vin pulled up in the jeep.
"How's the CD comin'?"
"It's done, Enjoy." Josiah smiled as he handed Vin the disc. Vin took a seat in the chair next to Josiah. He heaved a sigh.
"Why brother, that sounds like a troubled sigh."
"Nah, well maybe. There's this girl, Mary Anne. She and I have been seeing each other for quite awhile and she's everything I imagined. Think of it, a girl who loves everything I do." He leaned back in the chair dreamily.
"It's like a miracle, I ain't kidding."
"Oh, I believe you son. You just hold on to her, not too tight or she'll run but just enough so that she knows you love her."
"That's just it, I think I want to marry her but I'm not sure."
"What does your heart tell you?"
"Tells me I love her and I want her always."
"Well then, son, marry her. Ignore your head and follow your heart." They sat in silence for a moment until Vin spoke again.
"Could you . I mean if it weren't too much trouble. It would mean a lot to me if you would "
"Of course I will Vin. When?"
A week later
"Friends and neighbors, we are gathered here today for the union of friend and brother Vin and his love Mary-Anne."
| Mill worker houses lined up in a row,
Another southern Sunday morning blow
Beneath the steeple all the people have begun
Shakin' hands with the man who grips the gospel gun
While the quiet prayer, the smell of dinner on the ground
heals up the morning air, ain't nothin' sweeter around
I can almost hear my mama pray:
"Oh lord forgive us when we doubt,"
Another sacred Sunday in the south
A ragged rebel flag flies high above it all
popping in the wind like an angry cannon ball
The holes of history are cold and still,
but they smell the powder burnin' and they probably always will
And on the old town square under the barber shop pole,
they sat me up in the chair when I was four years old
I can almost hear my papa say:
"Won't you hold still son, stop squirmn' around
another sacred Sundays coming down"
I can almost hear the old folks say:
"You'll make it big one day, you'll leave this town,"
Some other lazy Sunday you'll come back around
I can feel the evening sun go down,
and all the lights in the houses one by one go out
Softly in the distance nothing stirs about
and the night is filled with the sound of a whippoorwill
On a Sunday in the south
Sunday in the South
Part three: Rich or Poor