Bound by Blood and Brimstone by D. L. Dunaway Read Free Book Online

direction.
    “What’s that, Preacher?” Daddy pushed his plate aside and gave a final swipe with his
    napkin. Reese had his attention.
    “William, I believe in shooting straight from the hip, speaking your mind, if you will.”
    He paused long enough to cast his eyes again at Momma, who was busy buttering a slice of
    cornbread. “People around here aren’t so willing to look the other way anymore. They’re
    becoming more aware of evil in their midst.”
    Reese forked up a mouthful of stew, chewed thoughtfully, and reached for his glass.
    Daddy sat motionless and silent, his expression bland. “The Holy Spirit is being poured out in
    this county, William,” Reese continued. “It’s making people bolder, less tolerant.”
    Dropping his eyes to his plate, he shoved meat chunks around his plate. Everyone but
    Wonnie had stopped eating. Momma and Daddy exchanged a look I couldn’t read.
    “What’s this got to do with me and my family?” Daddy asked. His voice was low and
    controlled, but an undercurrent of tension could be detected. Reese’s head was bowed, his lips
    moving silently. I wondered if he was praying, talking to himself, or if he’d lost his marbles.
    Suddenly, his head snapped up and he glared at Daddy.
    “It has to do with the devil, William. I’m talking about pagan rites, witchcraft, idols.
    They’re abominations, all of them.”
    “I don’t understand,” Daddy said tightly. Momma’s cheeks were flushed, her chest
    heaving. I knew that underneath her ladylike manners lay a spine of steel. Momma wasn’t happy
    about the way this visit was going, and she was about to let this fat-necked man know it.
    “What, what, what are you talking about?” she stammered.
    Reese dropped his fork with a clatter. “I’m talking about this sorceress you’re harboring
    in your back yard!” he declared. “I’m talking about the wrath of God that’s coming when people
    finally get fed up with the devil and his works!” His face was red, beads of sweat dotting his
    forehead.
    Suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, his voice dropped and adopted a wheedling
    tone. “Mona, William, I’m coming to you as a Brother in Christ. I’m trying to tell you for your
    own good and for the sake of your little girls, cast this witch from your midst before somebody
    decides to take the Lord’s vengeance in his own hands.”
    Time ceased as the room seemed to be holding its breath. Dimly, I was aware of the hot
    blood pounding my temples as my thoughts spun. He’s talking about Wonnie! Our Wonnie!
    Calling her a witch!
    Abruptly, mad laughter erupted from Momma, like the broken cackling of a sick hen.
    “You, you can’t be serious,” she managed. “Why, this is 1956, for heaven’s sake, not the Dark
    Ages. This is some sort of joke, right?”
    Daddy stopped her with his palm on her waving arm. “He’s not joking, Mona,” he said.
    Oh, make him shut his ugly mouth, Daddy , I prayed. Don’t let him say any more about Wonnie.
    “But William,” Momma blurted out, unable to stop her protest. “Wonnie Dean, a
    sorceress? With her harmless herbs and tonics? When I lost Angel, I would’ve died if not for
    her!”
    “Listen to me, both of you,” Reese cut in. “There’s nothing harmless about it. It’s wrong,
    all of it, and God will not be mocked!” His voice raised again, his breath coming fast. “Keep this
    evil from your household and from the people of this county, or so help me, someone could get
    hurt!”
    I glanced at Wonnie, who’d never spoken or even looked up from her plate. I sensed a
    pressure building deep within me, an eruption on the way, as if I were on the verge of flying
    apart into millions of fragments.
    Suddenly, Daddy was standing, dinner forgotten. His eyes had turned hard and glittered
    with dangerous light. “I don’t believe you understand, Preacher. For that, maybe we can
    overlook the things you’ve said. My grandmother’s nearly a hundred years old and from a