Monday, July 4, 2011

Tales From The Hogback #6, NOBODY

NOBODY

Even Sairee could tell that Preacher Smedley was worried as he rode up the spine of the Hog Back to the meeting house that Sunday morning.  Some folk might not think that mules are that smart, but you could tell by the particular twitch in Sairee's ear that something was bothering her.  Smedley was mumbling and shifting around in the saddle, but that wasn't strange at all.  The Parson often sang, preached--complete with gestures--prayed, and argued with hardened sinners and stubborn deacons from his perch on the placid animal's back. 
Normally Sairee became more relaxed as the parson became more agitated.  It would seem that she knew that the more the preacher's mind was occupied with other matters the more liesurely could be her gait.  Smedley had, on more than one occasion come to the end of a particularly moving point only to realize that he wasn't moving at all. 
On this day though there was a peculiarity about Smedley's homiletical mumblings.  "I been a tellin' 'em fer years that SOMEBODY ought to be a sharin' the gospel with all these Hell bound sinners, but NOBODY ever does."  Smedley clenched his teeth and fairly snarled the words "somebody" and "nobody."  It was then that Sairee's ears had that peculiar twitch, kind of like a fly had landed on one, but there wasn't a fly.
"Even when I told 'em that somebody oughta fix the door on the outhouse--seems like they'd a known that fer sher after that rooster walked in on Anna Belle Haskins--NOBODY never did nothin'."  At this point the mules ears looked like those of a rabbit with a bad case of nerves.
"Anyhow," Smedley mumbled on, since NOBODY ever does what somebody ought to do, I'm just gonna preach to 'em like what they are--a bunch a NOBODIES.  Maybe then SOMBODY'll do what NOBODY'LL even lift a finger for now."  By now the agitation had animated not only Sairee's ears but even her tail, and Smedley's mumble had grown to a growling, clearly audible, voice.
"But when a man calls folks a bunch a NOBODIES, even if that is what they act like, they might just get mad 'nuff to do somethin' mean." 
Sairee's ears--and tail--got to rest for the remainder of the Journey.  Preacher Smedley, kind-hearted to a fault, was grieved that he might hurt someone, yet he was convinced that the rebuke was in order.  Silently, for he was nearing the meeting house, and with a lump in his throat, he reviewed the message, God's Word to Nobody."
On the trail home from the meeting house Sairee showed none of her earlier twitches and jerks.  The man on her back didn't even notice when she slowed and twisted off a mouthful of a particularly delicious-looking shrub.  Smedley's mood was about as black as the old black parson's coat he wore over his starched over-alls.  At last the placid animal's ears twitched once as if a gentle breeze had aroused them.
"I can't believe it!"  Smedley confided to a big grey boulder.  "Not one nobody even listened."


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