Rachel set down her book and looked out the window at the darkening skies. Standing up she walked over to the front door. The torrid heat of the day lasted well beyond sundown and only just now was a breeze beginning to usher in a little relief. With her head tilted back and arms extended Rachel stretched out to embrace the little breeze which came in through the screen door. She knew that this evening, like every one the past few weeks, Desmond would be returning well into the night. Turning on the light to the front porch, Rachel returned to her seat to finish her book. Though missing Desmond’s company, Rachel was glad to get caught up on her reading.
True to his word, Desmond had spent the entire work week visiting every farm in the area. Leaving home before six in the morning he would visit four or five farms before returning sometime before midnight. Though some would prefer that the Rev. Prouty spend his time praying to the Lord for rain, most others were quite pleased with Desmond’s efforts to console and lift the spirits of the local farmers.
Desmond spent the bulk of each day in the fields baking under the fierce sun and high humidity. At some farms there would be plenty to do in actively trying to have the crops survive the drought. Often times there wouldn’t be much work to be done. In such situations Desmond would do little more than keep vigil with the farmer and listen to all his troubles. Though a few used the opportunity to ask for a formal confession, most just talked to Desmond about their fears and problems. Even though he found the counseling to be most needed, Desmond didn’t mind supplying whatever support a person required.
The heat during the week had been truly stifling. Each moment the sun dipped behind a stray cloud was viewed as a moral victory. Work would stop and all heads would turn up to the sky the moment the sun disappeared. The breaks were short lived and only reminded those tending the fields how unrelenting the sun had been over the last couple of months.
Even the exaggerated tales of past hot spells by the communities oldest citizens paled in comparison to the reality of the sweltering summer. While some farmers struggled to save a good portion of their crops, others found the expense of watering and working their fields greater than the money their harvest could possibly generate. Each day farmers were abandoning some of their fields to focus more attention on those with plants which had a better chance of surviving.
Where ever Desmond went he balanced his time between working and listening. All felt indebted to Desmond for his assistance and grateful for his friendship. No matter how poor the years harvest, Desmond was sure be the recipient of many bushels of produce as payment for his help in the fields.
Each evening when work was done in the fields Desmond was asked to stay for dinner. Though tired and with much still to do, Desmond would accept the hospitality of his friends. Even after dinner Desmond would stay and talk until he felt that everyone had sufficiently talked out their concerns. Desmond not only wanted to help his friends, but wanted them to feel like they had given him plenty. Over the past few weeks, during the day and evening he had been offered and accepted enough home made ice tea and lemonade to fill a large swimming pool.
After finally bidding his hosts for the evening a good night, Desmond would go work over at the church. There he would spend a few hours tending to all his weekly chores. Though in the middle of a drought, Desmond watered his garden outside the church almost every other night. Desmond, though slightly uneasy about using water for his flowers, felt that a barren garden would be a sign of defeat for all the struggling farmers coming to Sunday service.
Desmond always kept his church immaculate and impeccably organized. Yet, during this difficult time he thought it important that his church be even more of a comfortable sanctuary than normal. One evening Desmond worked on well after 11 o’clock polishing all the wood till it sparkled even in the dimmest light.
His weekly chores not only involved maintenance of the grounds and church interior, but the execution of assorted secretarial and menial tasks. As if all of these tasks weren’t enough, Desmond refused to cancel any of his other duties. Though working in the fields from sun up to sundown, Desmond still found time to visit the bedridden, meet with people for counseling sessions and even schedule late night interviews with two couples planning on getting married.
This, being Friday night, was Desmond’s last visit to the church before the weekend. Desmond would not leave tonight until his church was completely ready for a weekend of activities and services. The church and the grounds were used for an assortment of religious and social activities over the weekend. In addition to Sunday mass, the church was used for prayer groups, spiritual workshops for kids and adults, and a host of other related meetings. The church grounds hosted many social events from outdoor dances for teens, to community picnics, bake sales, and many other charitable or fund raising activities.
Once finished mopping the church floor, Desmond paused for a moment to review what he had accomplished. Outside he had watered the garden and swept the church steps. Inside he had thoroughly dusted all the wood, cleaned the glass, put hymnals in all the pews, placed copies of the church news on the back tables, mopped the floor, and oiled one of the side doors which squeaked. Now, Desmond concluded, all that was left for him to do was to replace a flickering light bulb in a candelabra on the back wall of the church.
Desmond could not remember a time when he felt more exhausted than he did right now. Other than his lazy Sunday afternoons with his family, Desmond had been in constant motion for well over a month. He not only needed to rest, but he also needed to have his batteries recharged. Thinking through tomorrow’s schedule of events Desmond was glad to remember that he was supposed to visit Pat Carrol.
Pat and Desmond had been best friends for well over ten years. Pat and Carl Roberson were the only two people Desmond talked to about his deepest thoughts. They were intelligent and strong individuals who Desmond relied on to sort through his feelings. Desmond did not have to be the honorable Rev. Prouty when he talked to Pat or Carl. With them he felt comfortable debating everything from politics to philosophy. No one else in town shared Desmond’s thirst for knowledge, or his desire to examine every aspect of human life.
Most townsfolk considered Pat and Carl to be eccentrics. Their intellectual interests had branded them as arrogant heathens undeserving of much attention. Desmond’s original association with them was considered to be missionary work. Yet, as the years wore on, most of Desmond’s congregation became totally baffled by his willingness to share their company. His association with Carl and especially Pat was one of the few things about Rev. Desmond Prouty which caused anxiety in the judgmental souls who attended the First Christian Community Church.
Desmond was fully aware of his congregations’ uneasiness with his choice of friends. Rachel had often discussed with him the potential danger in his continued association with Pat and Carl. Yet, Rachel also knew how important it was for Desmond to have someone with whom he could debate theological and philosophical issues.
Rachel was a woman of strong religious conviction. She was drawn to Desmond because of his beliefs as well as his kind nature. Her faith in the Lord and her love of God were unconditional and eternal. She was uncomfortable with Desmond’s questions and his search for truth. In her mind it was not right for a man of God such as Desmond to ever question one word of the Bible. Though she objected to Desmond’s friendships with Pat and Carl, she was glad to be relieved of the responsibility of discussing such sensitive topics with Desmond.
Stepping down off the ladder Desmond looked up at the new light he just put in. He was glad to see that it was not flickering. This meant the problem was the light bulb and not in the wiring and he was finally ready to go home.
On his way home Desmond found himself thinking of how little he had been seeing Rachel lately. Over the last few weeks he had done little more than say good-night and good-morning to her. His talks with her each night and every morning had been short, and he did not like feeling apart from her.
Desmond decided to ask her to help at the church a few evenings a week until things slowed down. He knew she wouldn’t mind, and he so much wanted to be near her. He pictured her lying in bed, and hoped she would still be awake when he got home.
Once again Desmond thought of how nice it would be to talk to Pat tomorrow evening. He was longing for a good debate, and tried to prepare for tomorrow by recounting their last conversation.
The thing he remembered most about their last conversation was their discussion regarding the dependent nature of man. Pat felt the goal of human life should be to become totally independent. He saw all dependency as a human weakness to be overcome.
Desmond disputed this and said that man, being social, is always dependent. He stated that a wise man is not one who overcomes, but rather monitors his dependencies. Desmond argued that all man’s needs and desires need to be balanced, and that one goes astray when they go to extremes. In Desmond’s view attempting to be totally autonomous was just as painful as being overly dependent. A person who desired to be totally self-sufficient was not only being unrealistic, but depriving themselves of the love and beauty of others.
Pat responded that any dependency on others forces a man to compromise his principles. A man cooperating with others is forced to be sensitive to their feelings. This social restraint, Pat contested, makes it impossible for a person to be truthful in all situations. A social man must routinely sacrifice his principles when trying to negotiate or get along with the masses.
Desmond countered this argument by stating that one’s social conscious actually created rather than destroyed one’s moral integrity. If people were totally selfish and self-sufficient they would have no reason to act in a moral or compassionate way.
Driving up to the house, Desmond had trouble remembering any more of the conversation. He knew it had not been resolved and was quite sure Pat would be ready to pick right up where they had left off.
Entering the front door Desmond could see that the bedroom light was off. Taking his shoes off he tiptoed through the house so as not to disturb Rachel. Crossing over to his side of the bed Desmond quietly took off his clothes in complete darkness.
“You don’t have to be a cat burglar, I’m awake,” Rachel announced, her voice muffled as she talked into the pillow.
“How long have you been in bed?” Desmond whispered.
Rachel shifted and turning over on her back replied, “Not very long. I’d be asleep by now if it were a little cooler.”
“Do you want me to turn the fan on higher?”
“No, Desi, that’s all right. I’ll get to sleep as soon as you get in bed.”
“Are you sure? It’ll be hotter with me lying next to you.”
“But I’ll feel safer with you next to me,” Rachel said wistfully. “And we can sleep on top of the covers…Anyway I can’t sleep when that fan’s on high. It’s like trying to sleep in a wind tunnel.”
Desmond leaned over and kissed Rachel. “I’ll be back in a moment sweetheart.”
Entering the bathroom Desmond closed the door before flipping on the light. His tired face looked like a cadaver in the bluish florescent light. The rings under his eyes were huge, almost completely swallowing his sunken eyes. He studied his haggard face the entire time he brushed his teeth and was so thankful Rachel didn’t see how tired he looked. All she would have done is complain about his hours and talked of how he was going to get real sick.
As soon as Desmond got into bed, Rachel scooted over to snuggle up to him. “Desi,” she began sweetly, “when are you going to start coming home for dinner?”
“As soon as we get some rain,” Desmond responded confidently.
“You said that three weeks ago,” she protested in a sulky voice.
“I know,” he said apologetically. “It’s supposed to rain this weekend.”
“I sure hope so,” Rachel mumbled fading quickly.
“Good-night sweetheart,” Desmond said kissing Rachel softly on her forehead.
“Good-night, Desi,” whispered Rachel. “Can we at least sleep in tomorrow morning.”
“I’ve got nowhere to go until noon.”
“That’s good to hear,” Rachel said while snuggling in closer to Desmond.
Realizing how desperately they both needed sleep, Desmond figured he could wait till morning to talk to Rachel about helping him out at the church. Even if it did rain this weekend, the drought would probably not end overnight. It would take a few good days of rain before the fields would be out of danger.