handout

Calling and Election
JACK HARRELL
Maralise Petersen, On Top
JERRY SANGOOD STEPPED OUT of his car and into the darkness of the
church parking lot. The sky above was black, without a moon. A thick
cloud cover hid the stars from view, and Jerry felt the darkness like
a hardened pit growing inside his brain. He shut the car door and
stood for a moment in the far corner of the parking lot, near a row
of Lombardy poplars as old as the town itsel£ The Mormon pioneers
who had founded this part of Idaho had favored these narrow trees
that grew tall and hearty in the sandy soiL They planted hundreds
of them in long rows to break the relentless winds. Standing against
the darkness of the trees, Jerry watched Bishop Gordon of the Third
Ward switch off the lights inside the church. The bishop walked out
through the darkened entryway and locked the gl~ss doors, stopping
a moment to look behind him into the stillness of the building before
he turned and went toward his pickup.
As Bishop Gordon started his truck and pulled away,Jerry Sangood
knew he had a choice. He could shake off this moment. He could go
home and pray for the safe return of his good wife, who had flown to
California to help their daughter and her new baby. He could pray
for a way to tell his wife what the doctor had found that afternoon
in the X . . ray. But even if he did, even if he turned and went home to
pray in his secret chambers, God would still be waiting, patient as the
Wasatch Mountains, for Jerry to return to this moment. In a week or
a month or a year, God would send someone to ask Jerry to put his
hand to the plow without looking back.
First place, 2007 Irreantum Fiction Contest
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Harrell: Calling and Election
As the taillights of the bishop's pickup disappeared in the darkness,
a dull pain coursed its way up the back ofJerry's neck. At least now
it made sense-the headaches, the mood swings, the memory lapses.
For weeks he had thought he was losing his mind. Hiding the pain
had only made him more irritable, had only made his behavior more
erratic. Now he walked toward the building's double doors, pushing
back the pain by sheer wilL
IIDon't be late;' the nlan on the phone had said.
IIThis shouldn't be hard;' he told himself as he looked at his watch;
he was right on titne. II What shall it profit a man;' he thought, lIif he
shall gain the whole world?"
Waiting in the church parking lot with a tumor in his brain, Jerry
knew that God had given him so much. He and Camille had paid
off the house. They had money in the bank, enough for a mission
and more. They had Jerry's job as a seminary teacher. They had their
daughter, Gwen, and her husband and children. They had their friends
and their good reputations. Above all, they had the gospel, which had
taught them to work hard and save and steer clear of the world's coun..
terfeit joys. And still God desired to give them more, always more.
Even this knot growing in his brain was an invitation, Jerry believed.
IIGod dwells in eternal burnings;' the Prophet Joseph Smith had
taught. The burnings were glories that mortals could not yet endure.
Everything that had happened was part of God's plan. Their daughter
and her baby in the hospital-it was a test. Jerry's headaches, and now
this invitation to meet a representative of the prophet-it was all part
of his own inching closer to redemption.
Jerry paused at the church doors. He had been passing through
these doors for thirty years, since the day of the building's dedication.
The plainness of the dark, empty ward house impressed him anew. The
structure and design were both functional and austere-brick and
metal and glass and carpet. Jerry was like this building, he realized:
practical, artless, a means to an end. The scripture said, "There is no
beauty that we should desire hinl:'
He had watched Bishop Gordon lock the door a few moments ago,
but with a believing heart, with the same heart that had moved him
to act all his life in the face of doubt, Jerry reached out. When the tips
of his fingers touched the metal door handle, the hallway lights came
on. An elderly man appeared in the hall, next to the stake president's
office, his hand on the light switch. He wore a black, three..piece suit
and carried a small silver briefcase. When he waved Jerry inside, Jerry
pulled on the door handle. It opened with ease.
Jerry stepped inside, and the man approached him. He had wire..
rimmed glasses and a stony smile that showed a row of crooked teeth.
He was bald and his eyebrows were bare. II I'm Brother Lucy;' he said,
shaking Jerry's hand. His grip was bony and firm. "Thank you for
coming:'
Jerry sensed that they were the only two in the building.
"I apologize for making an appointment so late;' Brother Lucy said,
leading him toward the stake president's office. "This will only take a
few minutes:'
Jerry didn't recognize Brother Lucy from the pi~tures in the church
magazines. Did you travel alone?" he asked. "I thought the Brethren
always traveled in pairs:'
"The Brethren often do;' Brother Lucy said. "Please;' he added,
offering Jerry a seat. They both sat down at the desk, opposite the
stake president's empty chair. Brother Lucy opened his briefcase. "I'm
not one of the Brethren:' He looked at Jerry with bright eyes that
appeared younger than the rest of his face."I'm just a messenger. I do a
lot of traveling for the Brethren, though.'Going to and fro in the earth;
as the saying goes. Shall we begin?" he asked.
Jerry nodded, shuddering a bit at the pain in his neck.
'1\re you all right?" Brother Lucy asked.
'Just a headache;'Jerry said. "I'll be fine:'
Brother Lucy considered him for a moment."Well, let's get right to
business;' he said."Get you home so you can rest:' He took two sheets
of paper from his briefcase. Then, speaking in a scripted voice, he said.
"Brother Jerry Sangood, we are here at the promptings of the Holy
Spirit. Our Heavenly Father knows your faithfulness. He has heard
your secret prayers and whispered counsel to you in your extremities.
You have magnified yourself according to the oath and covenant of
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Harrell: Calling and Election
the priesthood. Your life has been one of exemplary service, and your
brethren in the priesthood have confirmed your worthiness:'
The nlan stopped for a moment, adjusting his glasses. UBrother
Sangood, I have here two letters. One is from the prophet, electing
you to the higher blessings of the priesthood. The second letter is
addressed to the prophet. In order to receive this election, you must
sign the second letter, which states that you accept the weighty charge
that comes with this high and holy calling. If you sign the second
letter, I will then deliver it to the prophet. Brother Sangood, do you
understand the calling and election I am extending to you?
"It's the Second Anointing," Jerry said.
"That's right;' Brother Lucy said. "This is the Second Comforter:'
Then he paused for a moment, leveling his gaze on Jerry. "Brother
Sangood;' he said, ua new dispensation awaits you, if you are willing
to receive it:'
"A new dispensation;' Jerry repeated, thinking about the tumor
growing in his brain.
'~ literal pouring out upon your head;' the man said.
Jerry winced as a sharp pain erupted and subsided in the back of
his neck.
The man put the letters on the desk before jerry. "Read them care..
fully;' he said, "before you sign:'
Jerry recognized the letterhead, the prophet's signature, the famil..
iar and reserved tone of church correspondence. Dear Brother San'"
good;' the first letter read, liThe Lord has looked upon your heart and
desires now to nlagnify your inheritance:'
The pain in Jerry's head reasserted itself. Earlier that day, jerry had
gone to see Dr. Slater, complaining of headaches and mood swings,
loss of memory. When the doctor came into the examination room
with the X.. ray, he put it on the screen and said, uThere's the culprit:'
He circled the air above the image with a silver pen. In the black and
gray figure ofJerry's skull was a small white stone ,the size of a quar..
ter. Jerry stared at it for a long time, like a man having a revelation.
Dr. Slater scheduled a biopsy for Monday, in Pocatello. He said they
wouldn't know anything until then.
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A few minutes after leaving the doctor's office, Jerry came home
to an empty house. He picked up the cordless phone and sat on the
couch. Camille had been in California for nearly a week, having left
the day before their daughter Gwen was scheduled to deliver. Camille
had been on the plane when Gwen's uterine wall broke. When she
called Gwen's cell phone from the airport, Neal, their son.. in.. law,
answered: Gwen and the baby were in intensive care. The doctors had
performed an emergency C . . section. They found the baby's leg out..
side the womb, pressing against Gwen's internal organs.
Jerry didn't know when Camille would be coming back, and
Dr. Slater had said they wouldn't know anything until after the biopsy
on Monday. jerry put the cordless back on its cradle. He wouldn't
worry her until he knew more, until after the biopsy. A moment later,
Brother Lucy had called. Now Jerry was looking at two letters-and
a new dispensation.
On the second letter, which was addressed to the prophet, there
was a space at the bottom for Jerry's signature. Jerry read the words
uSecond Comforter" and IIserve with all my heart, might, mind, and
strength:' He looked at Brother Lucy.IIWhat happens if I sign?"
"Each case is different;' Brother Lucy answered, taking a pen from
his coat pocket and handing it to Jerry.
Jerry took the pen. He would hold back nothing from the Lord.
When he taught his students in seminary, he often quoted the Pri..
mary song: uKeep the commandments! In this there is safety; in this
there is peace:' He signed the letter and handed it back to Brother
Lucy, trusting in the hand of God.
Standing in the parking lot with the man a few minutes later, Jerry
asked, Will there be an ordination? Will my wife be called?"
UEach case is different;' Brother Lucy said once again. Then, he low..
ered his head for a moment, scowling, like a man arguing with himsel£
IIWhat is it?"jerry asked.
Brother Lucy looked out at the darkness of the parking lot. "I
feel impressed to tell you something, Brother Sangood;' he said. "I feel
impressed to caution you:'
Jerry felt an odd tingling in the back of his head.
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HA lot of people have lived on this earth:' Brother Lucy looked up
in contemplation at the dark sky. 'f\nd a lot of people will yet live on
this earth:'
In the black and overcast sky above them, three stars had become
visible: Vega, the falling eagle; Cassiopeia, placed in the sky to learn
hunlility; and Aldebaran, the follower.
HNot all of God's premortal children were faithful;' Brother Lucy
said.
HThere was war in heaven:' Jerry said, inspired.
Brother Lucy smiled wryly. "Billions of people have lived on this
earth;' he said. "Billions will yet be sent. But a third of the hosts were
cast down to earth for rebellion-unembodied spirits roaming the
earth, seeking their brothers' and sisters' destruction:'
In Jerry's eyes, Brother Lucy suddenly looked like a small, needle,
toothed mammal, like a predator. "How nlany of them are there?" he
asked. "How many spirits roam the earth, combined against each one
of us~"
Jerry felt a gloom that seemed to emerge from the hardened pit in
the back of his own skulL He felt it in the air around him, in his ears,
in his nose and mouth, like a living, cancerous smoke. He clenched his
eyes shut, unable to resist the vision of dozens of devilish fiends encir'
cling him, entering his thoughts, taunting and tempting, blaspheming
his faith. He fell to his knees, the sound of Brother Lucy's voice swirl,
ing amid the devilish air. Writhing on the pavement of the LDS church
parking lot, Jerry struggled against the hosts that beset him. He felt
the cold blacktop against his face and teeth as they tugged at his soul,
as the very pavement seemed to heave a pitch beneath him, becoming
a hard, black sea of evil, ready to swallow him whole.
WHEN JERRY PULLED INTO the parking lot of the LDS seminary the
next morning, he felt tired and agitated, barely himself. He got out of
his car and walked stiffly toward the building, his muscles aching. He
remembered meeting with Brother Lucy the night before and signing
the letter. He remembered Brother Lucy talking about the hosts who
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Harrell: Calling and Election
fell from heaven. Then he remembered waking up in his own back,
yard, soaking wet, in a morning rainstorm. Cold and confused, he had
ducked through the basement door, which stood open, the knees of
his suit pants shredded and soiled, one sleeve of his suit coat torn, his
tie gone, his hands and shirt filthy.
He put his ruined suit in a trash bag and took it out to the garbage.
Whatever had beset him the night before, he knew he must faith . .
fully accept God's vision of his own future. He showered and put on
another suit. He had just enough time to open the seminary building
for the students who would soon be coming in for their first classes.
Reaching the seminary building, his limbs stiff and aching, he
remembered the predatory look on Brother Lucy's face, like a small,
menacing animaL He remembered the words, "Each case is different:'
He put his key to the lock. Then he saw that the door stood open,
just an inch. Perhaps Brother Severe, the director, had already arrived,
he thought. But the lights were oft and no one responded when he
stepped inside and called out a greeting. He walked down the hall,
switching on lights and checking rooms. Everything seemed to be in
order, until he got to his own classroom.
He sensed the darkness even before he switched on the light; even
before he saw the pictures, hundreds of them, printed on ordinary
computer printer paper. Images from the Internet-grainy, explicit,
hardcore-covered the walls and cabinets of his classroom. More pic..
tures were scattered on the floor and on the students' desks. For an
instant Jerry stood paralyzed, confounded in his acknowledgment of
God's hand in all things.
A frantic, irrational spirit burst upon him as he realized that the
students would be coming in at any moment. Fearing all that he had
to lose, he began tearing pictures from the walls, gathering them in
a flurry. Despite the ache in his limbs, despite the sharp pains in the
back of his skull, he tore images of women and men from the walls,
grabbed them up from the floor, peeled them off the cabinets. Like
a madman he stuffed pictures in the crook of one arm as he moved
through the room. For every picture he tore at, others fell from his
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grasp, crumpled and torn in his wake. Dozens of other pictures still
hung on the walls, untouched. He rushed to his desk, vainly believ..
ing he could stuff the obscene pictures in the drawers and hide this
unreasonable, unbelievable thing that had happened. But the drawers
of his desk already had pictures in them, dozens of pictures, neatly
stacked-Christ at the well, knocking at the door, showing himself
to the Nephites; Joseph Smith, Noah, and Isaiah; family prayer and
baptism. Jerry thought then that he must be losing his mind. These
pictures had been on the walls just the day before, which now seemed
a lifetime away. Throwing open the last desk drawer, he saw a pic..
ture of Adam and Eve in the Garden. The image of the couple hold..
ing hands in Eden seemed nlore real than ever as Jerry stood in his
seminary classroom, an arnlload of torn and crumpled pornographic
images clutched to his chest.
His goodness stripped naked and mocked, Jerry saw three ninth..
grade girls standing in the doorway. They stood frozen in their inno..
cence, holding their books and backpacks, their eyes wide and their
mouths agape. Jerry knew these girls. He knew their parents. He'd
attended their brothers' mission farewells and homecomings. An
uncharacteristic curse fell from his lips as he lunged toward the girls,
the pictures still clutched in his arms. The girls fled into the hallway,
crying out in shock to the other students. Just as Jerry reached the
doorway, calling incoherently to the girls, Adam Birch and Greg
Hill appeared. The two boys, strong, tall seniors raised on potato
farms, looked past Jerry and into the room, their faces drawn with
astonishment.
Jerry tried to move beyond the boys. uGirls, girls!" he called out in
a vulgar cough, his legs nearly giving way beneath him. uPlease!" he
cried, reaching after them. Several students had gathered in the door..
way now, having heard the commotion. As Jerry fell forward, Adam
Birch caught him by the arm. "Go get Brother Severe;' Adam said to
someone behind him.
Jerry tried to slough off Adam Birch's hold on his arm. He called
the girls' names: "Terra, Isabel:' But they were already out of sight, lost
Harrell: Calling and Election
behind the crowd of students straining to see inside the classroom.
Jerry tried to push through, but he was too weak. The boys drove him
back into the room, wrestled him to the floor.
UNo;' Jerry managed to say as he reached out, trying to cover the
eyes of the boys holding him down.
lIyou frickin' pervert;' Adam Birch said, holding down Jerry's arms.
uYou're not getting to those girls:'
The weight of five or six boys was on him now. The gathered stu..
dents spun on their heels, eyes wide with dread as they saw the pic..
tures on the wall, as they saw their teacher being held to the floor by
their friends.
IIBrother Lucy! God, Brother Lucy!"Jerry called out. He was trying
to break free of the boys' grasp, trying to cover their eyes. He felt so
weak. He wanted to get the students out of this room. He wanted to
wake up and find that he was out of his mind, that he wasn't in this
room at alL
When his seminary brethren burst into the room, they stopped
short, as though they'd hit an invisible walL Brother Severe came
through the doorway first, followed by Brothers Blaine and Parker.
The room fell silent as the three men took in the scene-their fellow
teacher held to the floor, the classroom covered with pornography. The
students looked at the three men expectantly. Resting for a moment,
Jerry uttered a single pathetic moan as he let out his breath.
Brother Parker groaned, "Dear Father:' Brother Blaine turned
absently, eyes down, as if he might simply walk away, until Brother
Severe touched his sleeve, halting his exit.
uOka}T, everybody;' Brother Severe said, "Okay:' He reached down,
touching each of the boys on the shoulder or sleeve. One by one,
the boys released Jerry and wordlessly moved aside. Brother Severe
glanced up at the walls only once, as if to make sure it was still real.
He liftedJerry to his feet. Jerry stepped toward the wall, toward a row
of pictures hanging there. He looked at the pictures, seeing the eyes
and faces of women and men, the room so silent that he might have
been alone. He turned, and then, as if there had been some kind of
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Harrell: Calling and Election
explosion, the boys were on Jerry again. Jerry hurled himself toward
the wall, sobbing now, pulling down a dozen or more pictures at a
handfuL Imbued with indignation, the boys pinned Jerry to the wall.
Coughing, sobbing, Jerry barked out an incoherent curse: uHell if I
ever!" he shouted, swinging random fists full of pornography. uHell
on you all!" he spat.
Brother Severe moved toward Jerry, but Jerry tackled him, pushing
a fistful of pornography at his face. When Brother Severe fell against
Blaine and Parker, the three men toppled into a wall of students as
Jerry rushed past them and darted down the halL The stunned stu..
dents cowered and gave way as Jerry raced down the hall, shouting
and cursing, until he finally burst from the building like a madman.
housed in a new annex of the historic, sand..
stone.. faced courthouse building on Main Street. The interior of the
newjail was hard and smooth-concrete floors and walls painted white,
metal cell doors a deep blue. The cells were small concrete boxes with
bunk beds, stainless steel toilet/sink units, and small, barred windows.
Outside the six cells was a sky.. lit enclosed area with two steel picnic
tables, the legs embedded in the concrete floor. As the sheriffledJerry
into the enclosure in handcuffs,Jerry showed signs of recognition. He
had been there before, as a stake officer conducting Sunday services
for the prisoners. When the sheriff took off the handcuffs, Jerry held
up his hands lamely, showing his palms. He bowed his head, and in a
whispered chant, said '~men, amen:'
The sheriff had foundJerry in a sheep shed on Glade Raines's farm
on the edge of town. Glade had called sayingJerry was wandering his
property, chasing sheep and shouting questions about the prophets.
Raines held Jerry at bay with a shovel until the sheriff got there, say'"
ing he'd only hit Jerry a couple of times, and only when he tried to
get away. During the ride to the jailhouse, Jerry had sat in the back
seat, handcuffed, muttering the lyrics to Elvis songs, mingled with
scripture.
Sheriff Fisher sat Jerry down at one of the tables. He snapped his
fingers in front ofJerry's face to get his attention. Then, pointing to an
THE COUNTY JAIL WAS
open cell door, he said, uThat's your cell, Brother Sangood. There's a
bunk and a toilet. Ifyou don't cause any trouble, you can sit out here as
long as you want:' He put his hand on Jerry's shoulder. uUnderstand?"
Jerry bowed his head.
God, the Eternal Father;' he said, nodding.
urve got a couple of deputies cleaning up your classroom;' Sheriff
Fisher said. uWere looking at property damage charges for sure, and
probably a public decency violation. I'll have you arraigned before
Judge Hill in the morning:'
Jerry stared at the metal table. Something was stuck there in front
of him-an old sticker from a banana.
uYou know Judge Hill, don't you?" Sheriff Fisher asked.
Jerry picked at the sticker, pulling part of it away, leaving behind an
outline in dirt. uDon Hill;'Jerry said without looking up.
The sheriff squatted on one knee to catch Jerry's eye. "Theres some..
thing else;' he said. He paused a moment. '~ couple of the girls said
you sexually harassed them:'
Jerry stared hard at the metal table. If he raised his eyes too long,
he might see those combined against him. Like mincing shadows with
claws for eyes, theyd assailed him in the parking lot with Brother Lucy,
buffeted him as he wandered Glade Raines's sheepfold.
uOne of the Peterson girls says you made sexual comments;' the
sheriff said.
Jerry nodded. The Peterson girl had talked to him after school and
told him her boyfriend had dumped her for someone prettier. uShe
was crying,"Jerry said, still picking at the banana sticker. uSuch a beau..
tiful girl:' He remembered telling her how pretty she was and prom..
ising her the other boys would see that, too. uYes;' Jerry said to the
sheriff: nodding, smiling a little.
'~nd the Compton girl;' the sheriff said. "She claims you got out of
line with her, too:'
Jerry looked up at the sheriff: He shook his head back and forth,
saying, UNo, no:' He started to get up, as if he might walk away. The
sheriff simply sat him back down.
UThe Compton girl;' the sheriff repeated.
uo,
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Jerry counted on his fingers, grasping for something like logic.
uThe revealing tops, the short skirts, the high heels:' He'd prayed for
the girl and her parents, recently divorced. He'd cautioned her about
her appearance. Jerry looked at the sheriff pleadingly. uHer body's a
temple;' he said. He returned his attention to the sticker, picking at it
studiously.
UDo you realize what's happening here?" the sheriff asked. IIYou're
Harrell: Calling and Election
were printed from your computer. All we had to do was check the
computer history. It was all right there:'
Jerry remembered seeing Sheriff Fisher as a boy, riding a silver
bicycle all over town. He could ride with no hands from one end of
town to the other, his arms folded over his chest. As the sheriff spoke,
Jerry reached out and patted his sleeve.
We found something else;' SheriffFisher said. When we sat down
II
in pretty deep:'
Jerry looked up, abruptly confident. He smiled and patted the sher..
iff's arm. "I was in prison and ye came unto me:'
II call your wife;' Sheriff Fisher said.
Jerry looked back at the table. The ache from the blows of Glade
Raines's shovel spoke to him like an old regret. Jerry had grown up a
long tilne ago, it seemed, in a small house near the railroad tracks in
Pocatello. An old man lived down the street when he was a boy. The
man had a knife and he said he could cut offJerry's ear. A sunny after"
noon, and Jerry's father was there. The man showed his knife. Jerry
didn't understand that the man was teasing him. Then Jerry remem..
bered something else. He'd been a young husband. He and Camille
drove a Thunderbird convertible he'd borrowed from his friend Ray..
mond Hayes. They'd driven to Las Vegas to see Elvis. He remembered
the feeling of Camille's beautiful, delicate hand on his arm as he drove.
And he renlembered standing in front of his students, the familiar
sensation of his leather..bound Book of Mormon in his hand, testify..
ing in one of those rare moments when all of the students were silent,
truly listening, listening not just to him, but to the Spirit testifying.
He remembered that morning, carrying his tattered, soiled suit to the
garbage, like a man hiding a shameful sin.
When Sheriff Fisher came in next, leaving the door open to the
office, the outside light from the small, barred window was growing
dim. The sheriffsat down across fromJerry at the metal table, looking
at him for a long time before he spoke. "We've been to your house;' he
said. uThe pictures you put up in the classroom were probable cause.
The back door to the house was wide open. All those pictures-they
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II
at your computer, it was already on. It was open to your bank's website.
All your accounts have been zeroed out, all the funds were transferred.
We talked to the bank. Did you plan on skipping town, Jerry? Is that
why you empted the accounts? Is that why you did it while Camille
was goner"
IIWho needs money?" Jerry said, quoting an Elvis tune.
The telephone rang, and SheriffFisher stood up, heading for the office.
11f that little trick down at the seminary was your way of getting back at
this town for something," he said,lIthen it was a hell of a way to go:'
Jerry sat at the metal table, his hands before him, his fingers out..
stretched. Too many things were happening, too many things to think
about at once. The sheriffhad told him there was a room with a bunk.
He realized that now. He could go to sleep. He looked up at the cell,
the door standing open. The sheriff had found his house that way,
with the door standing open. He could go to sleep. He had awakened
in the rain that morning, in the backyard, with the door of the house
standing open. He got up and went to the open door of the cell. He
stepped into the cell, thinking he might shut the door behind him, but
he didn't want to disturb the evidence. He lay on the bed, facing the
wall. He was glad it wasn't raining. He didn't know if those combined
against him were in the cell with him, though he knew they were in
prison. He didn't want to turn and see. He heard the sheriff talking
on the phone in the office. He heard the sheriff say the words, 11That's
what it looks like:'
Then the sheriff was in the cell, tapping him on the shoulder. lilt's
your wife;' he said, handing him a cordless phone. She doesn't sound
too good:'
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Harrell: Calling and Election
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Jerry sat on the edge of the bed and took the phone.
"The baby isnt breathing right;' Camille said, her voice like light.
Jerry opened his eyes, emerging from a spell. "Camille;' he said.
"I can't talk long. They put Gwen back in Intensive Care. She's
bleeding again:'
uWe can say a prayer;' Jerry said. uWe can give her a blessing:'
"What's happening to ust' Camille asked.
"Heavenly Father .. :' Jerry said, unable to finish.
A long silence stretched between them. Jerry could hear her
nlufHed sobs. He knew the rhythm of her breathing, like the pulse
of his own blood. He imagined being with her, kissing the tears on
her cheek, smelling her soft skin. He closed his eyes, hoping it might
simply conle true.
Then he heard her voice. "Jerry;' she said.
He opened his eyes. He was still in the jail cell.
"This is my fault;' she said."You dont understand what's happening.
This is a test. We just have to get through it:'
"I'm in trouble;' Jerry said."I'm in jail:' He looked up at the walls of
the cell, at the metal tables outside the cells where he had given the
sacrament to the prisoners when he had served here as a stake officer.
The words came to his lips: Bless and sanctify;' he whispered.
"1'11 try to come honle;' Camille said. "I have to see to Gwen, too,
and the baby-she's so precious;' Camille said."This is a test, Jerry;'
she said."Heavenly Father;' she said, her own voice trailing off:
A moment later, when she said goodbye, Jerry didn't switch off the
phone. He lay there with the receiver to his ear until the sheriff came
in and held out his hand. "I need the line free;' Sheriff Fisher said.
II
THAT EVENING JERRY SANGOOD had three visitors who came to him
like messengers in a dream. Brother Severe asked Jerry about his
headaches.
"Dr. Slater found something in my head;' Jerry said.
"I bet he did;' Brother Severe answered, talking there in the dark..
ness of the cell, sitting on a metal folding chair. Maybe that thing in
your head drove you crazy:' he added.
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But Jerry knew it was more than that. He knew God was standing
above them all, greater even than the earth upon which all their lives
rested. Despite the rattle and thrash of all their ambitions for exalta..
tion, despite the hiss of all the devils combined against them, despite
the cars and the songs and the empty hearts, God moved through
their lives like a giant flaming sun rolling through space, quiet and
sure, like the very blood coursing through their veins.
"I contacted Salt Lake;' Brother Severe said. "You're through teach..
ing, of course. The sheriff said there's no question, the evidence is all
there:' He stared at his clasped hands in the darkness. "Maybe if they
decide you're crazy, no one will judge you. I don't know;' he said, let..
ting out a halted laugh. "I guess I was crazy there for a while, too. Do
you remember that, that first year we worked together? You saved my
life, Jerry:' He paused for a moment, putting his face in his hands. I'd
never had that kind of attention from a girl;' he said, looking up at
Jerry;' especially one who looked like that:' He laughed a small des..
perate laugh, shaking his head. "I thought I was beyond temptation.
I would have lost everything, Jerry, if you hadn't been there that night.
I hope they decide you're crazy, for your own sake:'
Brent Blaine came next. "I was standing in the doo~.way;' he said.
"I had the tithing deposit in my hand, over twenty thousand dollars.
I could just borrow a little, I thought, pay it back. I knew no ~ne was
supposed to be alone with the money. You saw me, and it was like you
knew. 'Headed to the bankt you asked. 'I'll go along: You had to know.
And now it's you. I don't get it:'
Then it was David Parker, who was still in his twenties, with a wife
and two small children. He sat in the folding chair, just as others had,
talking into the darkness. Except for my bishop back home;' he said,
"and that therapist in Utah, you're the only one who knows. What am
I supposed to do, tell Brother Severe? Mr. Righteous?'Oh, by the way,
I used to have an eating disorder. But it's okay. I force myself to eat
and I stuff my anxieties. No one suspects it because I'm a man:" He
choked a laugh. "You have to be crazy, Jerry, to do what you did. Who
am I going to talk to now?"
II
II
25
IRREANTUM
Jerry didn't speak. Unseen others clamored in the air, some com..
bined against Jerry, sonle against Brother Parker. Jerry reached out
across the darkness, taking the young man's hand.
III'm sorry it had to be you;' Brother Parker said.
AT DAWN, BROTHER Lucy came. He stood over Jerry, shaking him
awake.
lilt's time to go;' he said.uGet up:'Jerry put on his shoes, his head cloudy
and thick. Brother Lucy took him by the arm, standing him up. Then
Brother Lucy sinlply walked Jerry past the only deputy on dut}', who
was sitting with his back to the door, watching TV. They walked out of
the building like two angels stepping away from a fallen prison. Outside
it was a chilly, overcast morning as they walked north on Main Street,
past Heritage Mortgage and Belknap Chiropractic, past the empty
storefront where JC Penney's had once been. The stores were closed and
the only cars on the road were still driving with their lights on.
When the dryness in Jerry's throat cleared enough that he could
speak, Jerry simply asked, "Why did they let me go~"
']ust walk;' Brother Lucy said.
Jerry could feel the tumor in his head, could feel it growing. He
could taste it like metal in his nlouth. Maybe the spirits who had
attacked hinl in the church parking lot had grown out of the pit in his
head. Or maybe they were waiting to enter in through it, like a portal.
IIWhatever God wants;'Jerry said, he can have:'
IIKeep walking," Brother Lucy said, taking him by the arm and
walking faster.
They turned the corner and went down Heath Street, heading east.
Jerry looked ahead, staring into the sun. He stared at the white.. hot
ball on the horizon as long as he could stand it, burning his eyes with
the sight of it. Everything began to burn in on him-the life he was
losing. He looked at the sun for a long while and then looked down,
unable to see for a moment. Why do I need my eyes~" he said.
When he looked away from the sun, he only saw a pink whiteness.
He walked ahead, blind for a moment, until the vision returned. He
II
II
Harrell: Calling and Election
saw his necktie hanging loosely from his neck. III don't need this;' he
said, taking it off and dropping it to the ground. He took off his suit
coat and absently let it fall to the sidewalk as well.
"You're littering;' Brother Lucy said. liThe sheriff will get you:'
"What's happening to my daughter~" Jerry asked. Why does she
have to be a part of this~ And the baby-why isn't the baby breathing
right~ What did he do wrong~"
"He was born;' Brother Lucy said. "That's enough:'
lilt's not right. God can have him, but it's not right:'
They continued down Heath Street, walking out of town toward
the grain fields and the purple mountains in the distance. At the edge
of town, where the sidewalk ended, they took to the blacktop street,
walking parallel with the railroad tracks and East Canal, headed
toward the old sugar factory.
"Where are we going~" Jerry asked.
"When you drained your bank account;' Brother Lucy said, "that
account number I gave you was for the Catholic Relief Fund. They'll
be very grateful, I'm sure:'
"Why did I do it~" Jerry asked.
liThe thing which I greatly feared is come upon me;' Brother Lucy
said, quoting scripture.
Jerry looked at the sun again, walking into it. He didn't want to see
anymore.
"We author our own hell;' Brother Lucy said.
They were walking the middle of the blacktop road, along the canal,
a row of litter and gangly weeds beside them. "I've lost my life;' Jerry
said.
"You've lost nothing that matters:'
IIThen nothing matters;'Jerry said.
They were at the old sugar factory now, a building that hadn't been
used in years. The windows were broken out, a moat of high weeds
grew up around the walls. The stories of hard.. working Mormon
farmers carrying in loads of sugar beets in big, horse.. drawn wagons
were all gone, too. East Canal, a major artery of the local irrigation
II
26
27
IRREANTUM
Harrell: Calling and Election
systeol, ran between the dilapidated building and the blacktop road
where Jerry and Brother Lucy stood. In the distance, beyond acres
of potato and grain fields, the Wasatch mountain range lay between
them and the distant sunrise.
IICertain people in Salt Lake City were up all night talking about
you, Jerry;' Brother Lucy said. IIYou're going to be on the news this
morning, all over Utah and Idaho. SOOleone took pictures of your
classroom. They have pictures of you, too. It was good of you to
leave the house unlocked. One of the General Authorities wants you
excoolmunicated. He'll probably get his way:'
Jerry looked up at the old abandoned building. He had played here
as a boy, riding his bike around the place at night, throwing rocks into
the canaL "Take Ole home;' he said absently. "I want to go home:'
IIYour old life is gone, Jerry. You signed the letter. Besides that, you
just escaped from the county jaiL You're a fugitive. Add that to the
other charges against you:'
IIWhy are we here~" Jerry asked. The pain in the back of his head
was growing warm, like soolething seductive and wicked.
Brother Lucy tookJerry's arm and walked him a few feet down the
road. They stood at the edge of the canaL Look;' he said, pointing to
a dirt and gravel parking lot behind the sugar factory. Camille was
there, standing a hundred yards away, pacing in front of her car. She
wore blue slacks and a white blouse, the saOle clothes she had on when
she flew out to California. Spotting them, she began walking in their
direction, head down, arms folded over her chest.
"She loves you, Jerry;' Brother Lucy said, "more than her whole
life in this town. More than her grandchild, more than her daughter.
More than she loves herself:'
Jerry fell to his knees. The pain in his head was blinding. It was too
much to think that he had brought her to all this, their lives shattered. He
tried to stand. He stumbled, moving toward Camille, toward the canal.
Looking only at his wife as she made her way toward them, he stepped
into the canal, the water deeper than he expected. His feet slipped on
the muddy bottom. He went completely under the cold mountain water
before COOling up out of the current, coughing and splashing.
II
Brother Lucy eased down the incline and stepped carefully into
the water."Take my hand;' he said.
Jerry reached for Brother Lucy's hand, and in a moment he landed
on his back, prostrate in the water, thrashing and gasping in a panic as
Brother Lucy held him under, his knee on Jerry's chest, his hand shov,
ing Jerry deeper and deeper under the current. The pain in his head,
like a black cloud of devils, disoriented him. Then, just as quickly as
he had pushed him under, Brother Lucy pulled Jerry to his feet and
shouted,'~re you giving up~ If you're going to give up, spare us all and
do it now:'
No;' Jerry said, gasping and spitting water. No, I'm not giving up:'
He was struggling to stand on his own, grasping at Brother Lucy's
body to steady himsel£
Camille stood at the edge of the canal now, reaching for her husband.
"Let go of him!" she demanded."Get away from hiol! Let him go!"
Jerry wiped at his eyes and looked up at her, standing on the bank.
Her hair was disheveled and her clothes were wrinkled. Her face was
red and her eyes were puffy from crying. She was the most beautiful
person he'd ever seen.
Taking courage from the sight ofhis wife,Jerry pushed Brother Lucy
away and stood back a pace, toward the bank where Camille stood."I'm
not giving up my life;'Jerry said."I didn't give it up. You took it from me,
from both of us:'
II
"I didn't take anything," Brother Lucy answered. God holds your
life in his hands. He always did:'
"lf he wants my life;' Jerry said,"he can have it. He's already put a
tumor in my head:'
"You don't understand;' Camille said to Jerry. She stepped down
the embankment and into the water behind Jerry. "This is all my fault;'
she said. He came to me with a paper:' She pointed to Brother Lucy.
"I signed it, and that's why Gwen and the baby are in the hospitaL
That's why all these things are happening:'
Jerry looked at Brother Lucy, enraged, the pain in his head like an
angry stinger. He was ready to move toward him, angry enough to
kill him.
II
II
II
28
29
IRREANTUM
Harrell: Calling and Election
HDon't, Jerry;' Canlille begged, clutching at him. Please don't:'
Jerry roared at Brother Lucy, his fists hitting the water. III didn't
want this!"
HYour life is gone;' Brother Lucy said. Don't you see that? You can't
II
II
have it back. Right now, someone in Salt Lake is calling your priest-hood leaders in Idaho. There's going to be a church court. You won't
even have your church nlembership!"
HIt's not right;' Jerry said in a low, angry voice. He swayed, chest
deep in the water, ready to explode. His white shirt clung to his chest.
His face twisted with pain and anger. HNothing about this is right!" he
roared as he sprung at Brother Lucy, putting his hands around the
old man's neck. "I worked all my life;' he said, shaking the man. 'f\ll
nlY life!"
Brother Lucy gripped Jerry's hands, attempting to pull them from
his neck. Camille pulled atJerry's arms, crying out, callingJerry's name
and begging him to let go.
"I've kept the commandments;'Jerry cried.
The three thrashed in the water, struggling to stay upright on the
muddy bottom of the canaL Brother Lucy managed to get his own
hands between Jerry's grip and his neck. Camille had managed to get
herself partly between the men.
"I've cared for my neighbors;' Jerry said in self--defense. III put up
with them, and with their children's silliness and all of their blind
obedience to this stupid, stupid world:' Then, giving up his hold on
Brother Lucy's neck, he said, 'f\nd I've loved them too!" He stopped
fighting for a moment. III have loved them! Doesn't that count for any-thing? I've spent hours and hours on my knees, begging God to teach
me how to love them. Good God;' he said,"I built a reputation in this
town as a good man!"Jerry shouted. 'f\nd now I've lost everything!"
He turned away, stumbling back a pace, his energy spent. The three
of them stood there in the water.
After a moment, Brother Lucy spoke. IIWhat have you lost?" he
asked.
"Everything!"Jerry said in a broken voice.
IIYou've lost your reputation?" Brother Lucy asked.
Yes!"
II
liThe collective opinion of fools?"
III've lost my good name!"Jerry said.
IIThere is none good but God!"
IIWhat about our money? The money's gone!"
IIFilthy lucre;' Brother Lucy answered.
"We could lose our daughter;' Camille said.
Brother Lucy turned to her. Dear Mother, you know that child's
souL In all the eternities, you'll never lose her. How could you
doubt it?"
Camille dropped her face into her hands and began to weep.
Jerry went to her, put his arms around her. Her clothes and her
skin felt so cold. She cried into his chest, embracing him. He didn't
care about himsel£ She was the only one on this earth that mattered.
He'd exhausted all his words, all his defenses. He had nothing but her,
nothing but his life and hers.
II
Brother Lucy stood off a pace. His face softened into a smile as
he looked at Jerry standing there, holding his wife. IIBrother;' he said,
his hands outstretched. He stepped toward them, reaching out, smil-ing assuredly. "Let go, Brother;' he said, touching Jerry's sleeve. uJust
let go:'
Jerry shook his head. No;' he whispered, rocking Camille gently
in his arms, moving from side to side as she wiped her tears and com-posed hersel£
IIYour Heavenly Father loves you;' Brother Lucy said. He put his
hand at the base of Jerry's neck. "Just let go of this world;' he said.
"You'll see his love, just like the scripture says: 'Stronger than the cords
of death:"
II
Jerry looked into the old man's fading blue eyes, as light and blue
as a summer sky. Jerry knew his own heart. He was ready to believe,
ready to accept. He couldn't do anything else, even if it damned him.
He trusted in his Father's love. He trusted in the goodness of the earth,
the goodness of his wife, the goodness of most of God's children. He
30
31
IRREANTUM
Harrell: Calling and Election
knew that God had his blessings in store. He knew his daughter Gwen
would be just fine, even if there was trouble for a little season. He was
ready to let go of whatever it was that he held back from God.
Brother Lucy stood beside them, his soft hand, his touch tender at
the base ofJerry's neck,just below the spot where a stone was growing
in Jerry's skulL Then Jerry saw a change in Brother Lucy's face. The
nlenacing look of a predator returned.
"Dear Brother;' the old man said in a voice, strong and hollow,
"let go:'
Jerry felt himself slipping under the water, being pushed under the
water as easily as a child might dip a toy in the bathtub. He still held
on to Camille, too shocked to let her go. The water was murky and
cold. Camille, still in his arms, didn't struggle. She only held on to
Jerry as Brother Lucy pushed them both down, one hand on Jerry's
neck, the other hand and one knee on their bodies.
Hungry for breath, for the light of day, for life itself: Jerry resisted
the force of Brother Lucy's body on theirs. He pushed at the old man's
linlbs, kicked until his feet slipped on the muddy canal bottom. He
thrashed until he felt his back hit the mucky bottom. He needed a
breath. He needed to save Camille. He needed to save them both.
Then he felt it. Camille reached around his body, embracing him
fully. She was not resisting. She was holding on to him, holding him
closer, like a lover in bed, holding fast to her love. Beneath the water,
in the blackness, at the end of his life, he returned his love to her. He
held her close, and finding her face under the murky water, he put his
lips to her. He stopped fighting.
He let go.
and all night, unable to speak. They simply got
in the car in their wet clothes and drove until the car's engine died
on the edge of a rural two..lane highway in North Dakota, near the
Canadian border. After looking under the hood for a moment and not
recognizing anything there, they walked toward the nearest town. At
the city limits ofWicapiwakan, North Dakota, Pop. 8271, a sign read,
"Where Hell Freezes Over:' They rented a kitchenette in a rundown
motel and soon got jobs-Camille as a lunch lady at the junior high,
and Jerry as a janitor in the town's only nursing home. Jerry didn't say
anything about the pain in his head, though it rang in his skull like a
hammer. For weeks they only worked and slept, barely talking, both
of them fighting a profound sense of loss.
lilt's the buffetings of Satan;' Jerry said one night as they lay awake,
their darkened faces red in the glow of the vacancy sign outside their
window.
After cashing her first check from the school district, Camille called
Gwen. She stood at a pay phone outside a convenience store, next to
the ice machine at the side of the building. The noisy car and truck
traffic passed on the highway just a few yards away.
Gwen said she was fine. She said the baby was fine. She wanted to
know where they were, why they hadn't called. She asked Camille if
Jerry was holding her hostage.
Camille refused to tell her where they were. "Your dad and I can
take care of ourselves;' she said. She watched the highway as a semi..
truck pulling a load of logs passed. She heard the truck move through
its gears as it slowed to enter the city limits.
III understand about Dad;' Gwen said on the phone. "Some men
can keep that sort of thing a secret for years:'
Camille stood there, her hand on the cold metal phone cord,
while a short, dirty man in a cowboy hat eyed her as he got into his
pickup. You don't understand what's happened;' Camille said to her
daughter.
"Its okay, Mom;' Gwen said. lilt doesn't mean the Church isn't true.
Some of those people Dad taught, they're blogging about leaving the
Church. I bet they never had testimonies in the first place. And half
the stuff they're saying isn't even true;' she added.
III need to go, Sweetie;' Camille said. She felt sick inside.
Gwen's voice came back in a maternal tone. "Mom, if you nee~ to
leave him, you can stay with me and Neil. We'll pay for the plane
flight. I can come and get you. Whatever you need:'
Camille stood there in silence for a moment. "I'll call in a few days;'
she finally said, and hung up the phone.
32
33
THEY DROVE ALL DAY
II
IRREANTUM
A snlall branch of the LDS church met on the other side of town.
WhenJerry and Camille's church records came in from Salt Lake, they
listed Jerry as excommunicated. But with only twenty.. five members
in regular attendance, President Lewis gladly gave Jerry a job as the
branch janitor.
EVERY MONDAY AFTERNOON, AFTER he got off work at the nursing
home, Jerry let himself into the building to clean. He vacuumed the
carpet in the entryway and the four classrooms. He moved the folding
chairs in the room where sacrament meeting and Sunday School were
held and vacuumed the carpet there. In the offices of the branch presi..
dent and the clerk, he vacuumed the carpets and dusted the desks. He
washed all the windows, and he swept the floor in the little kitchen,
where priesthood meeting was held on Sunday. After that, he cleaned
the bathrooms.
One winter afternoon, while on his hands and knees wiping the
floor around the urinal, a simple thought came to him: he was cleaning
bathroonls for Jesus, wiping up urine for God's true church. Someone
had to do it. Jerry paused for a moment, wringing out his cleaning rag
in a bucket of soapy water. If God's kingdom was destined to fill the
whole earth, someone would have to wipe up the piss. Kneeling there
in the snlall bathroom in the empty building, Jerry felt as whole and
happy as a child. Only then did he realize what he had lost and why
it didn't matter. Only then did he realize that the pain in his head had
left him.
That weekend, the Relief Society president asked Camille and Jerry
to go down to Bismarck to pick up the welfare order at the bishop's
storehouse. It was a two-hour trip down Highway 83, through a light
snow and haze. After the back seat and the trunk of their car were
filled with canned goods, dry cereals, and boxed dinners, they stopped
at the Bismarck Temple to walk the snowy grounds in the evening
light. The temple itself was snlall compared to the other temples they'd
seen, oblong and blockish with only one level above the ground. It was
beautiful, though, with the lights illuminating the walls and the Angel
34
Harrell: Calling and Election
Moroni statue, and the plaque above the door that said THE HOUSE
OF THE LORD in gold letters on white marble.
As Jerry and Camille walked the grounds, a few patrons came and
went, carrying their small suitcases of temple clothes and walking
briskly in the light snowfall and the chilly winds. Jerry and Camille
walked until they reached the back corner of the building, past a white
brick fence, and beyond that, to a driveway that led alongside the airconditioning units and the garbage dumpster. They stopped at the
edge of the driveway, seeing three aged men a dozen or so yards away,
standing next to the loading dock, talking and laughing. The man
standing closest to the service door was dressed in a white temple suit.
The other two men were wearing dark suits, white shirts, and ties.
One of them was Brother Lucy.
Upon seeing Jerry and Camille, the men's laughter subsided. The
other man in the dark suit dropped a cigarette to the pavement and
crushed it out. Then the man in the white suit handed Brother Lucy
an envelope before disappearing into the temple, 'through the metal
door. Brother Lucy nodded to his companion, who got inside a black
Chrysler parked near the loading dock.
urve been wondering when you'd turn up;' Brother Lucy said. "Still
having those headaches?"
Jerry looked at him narrowly. ULet's go;' he said to Camille.
IIYou'll be back, you know;' Brother Lucy said, holding his attention,lIinside of a year, I predict. I've seen it before: excommunicated
from the Lord's church, and sweeping his floors:' Then, taking the
envelope in his hand and touching it dramatically to his forehead, he
said, III prophesy! In a year from now you'll be in this temple, doing
ordinances and serving potatoes in the cafeteria:'
Jerry took Camille's arm. They turned and began to walk away.
'Just one thing," Brother Lucy said, calling after them.
Jerry and Camille stopped, their backs to the bald man in his dark
suit. Looking down at the sidewalk brushed with snow, Jerry imag..
ined Brother Lucy staring at the back of his neck, seeing into his skull
where a stone the size of a quarter slept, would continue to sleep, for
35
IRREANTUM
at least a year. Jerry stood motionless, braced for whatever icy truth
waited in Brother Lucy's words.
"Remember this;' Brother Lucy said."Think on this;' he said."Even
your goodness is your enemy:'
It was the truth, and Jerry knew it.
"Remenlber that;' Brother Lucy said, calling after them as they
walked away. 'l\nd tell all your friends:'
Jerry and Camille went to the car. They got on Highway 83 and
drove north through the snow. The truth of Brother Lucy's words
waited like a cancer with them in the car. It was in the snow and in
the icy pavement on the road. It was in the very sky. But Jerry didn't
nlind it. He could already feel himself in the temple, dressed in white,
wearing a hairnet and a paper apron, dishing potatoes and feeling the
Spirit of God.
36
This Afternoon
WAYNE JORGENSEN
SARA IS GOING TO Aaron. He's staying overnight at an old motel just
out of downtown Salt Lake, the Desert Palm. She doesn't know what
his story is, and may not ask him-probably that he's photographing
a wedding in Logan or someplace and had better stay over. Whatever,
it's going to go to waste because Sara couldn't think of an overnight
story that would work; she's told Ryan she's going to meet Leslie in
Salt Lake for lunch and shopping and will be back in time for dinner,
which it's Shannon's turn to fix tonight.
Which makes two things bad about it today: the specific lie added
upon the general and continuing duplicity, and the fact that she and
Aaron will have only three afternoon hours, not the night. She can't
stop this arithmetic-adding the columns ofgood and bad, and worse,
the minuscule total of hours out of her whole life that have his lifetheir life-in them too. Less than a day so far. Less than a day out of
her almost forty years. She won't live long enough, if she sees Aaron
at the present rate o£ say, twenty hours a year, to bring it up to much
more than a month, six weeks if she lives to ninety. Six weeks out
of ninety years. She's too good at this, these ruthless computations,
overwhelming even when she stays with finite numbers-please no
eternity now-and she's furious with herself: she'd hammer on the
steering wheel if she didn't have to be careful to keep in her own lane
in the thickening traffic and rougher freeway nearing the city. The
seams of the concrete thwack under her tires, a steady fierce heartbeat
that half.-consciously she tries to slow her own to match. She can't
quite make it, keeps racingjust ahead.
Aaron told her, two or three times ago, how the first time she'd
touched him, her hand casual, brief: at the small of his back as they
37
IRREANTUM STAFF
Editor Angela Hallstrom
Managing Editor Kathleen Dalton#Woodbury
Fiction Editor Lisa Torcasso Downing
Poetry Editor Michael R. Collings
Creative Nonfiction Editor Brittney Carman
Critical Essay Editor Karen Marguerite Moloney
Book Review Editor David G. Pace
Lead Copyeditor Elizabeth Petty Bentley
Copyediting Staff Laura Hilton Craner, Elizabeth L. Jensen, and Lotte Willian
Design Eric Lynlan
Layout Marny K. Parkin
IRREANTUM
8
Fiction I II
37
47
73
93
97
II9
FROM THE EDITOR
JACK HARRELL Calling and Election
WAYNE JORGENSEN This Afternoon
DARIN COZZENS Reap in Mercy
ARIANNE COPE Salt Water
WILLIAM MORRIS Speculations: Trees
KRISTIN CARSON Gypsy Holiday
MARK BROWN Cause
Critical Essays I 144 ELIZABETH BUSBY Going Mainstream:
ASSOCIATION FOR MORMON LETTERS BOARD
President Eric Samuelsen
Board Members Neal Kramer, Alan Rex Mitchell, Boyd Petersen
Secretary Darlene Young
Annual Proceedings Editor Linda Hunter Adams
Webmaster Jacob Proffitt
AML~List Moderator Stephen Carter
161
Poetry I 44
70
II6
203
218
Front cover: In Her Ear by Maralise Petersen
Irreantum (ISSN 1518#0594) is published twice a year by the Association for Mor#
n10n Letters (AML), PO Box 970874, Orem, UT 84097#0874; www.irreantum.org.
Irreantum vol. 9, no. 2 (2007) and vol. 10, no. I (2008) © 2008 by the Association for
Mormon Letters. All rights reserved. Membership and subscription information can
be found at the end of this issue; single issues cost $10.00 (postpaid). Advertising
rates begin at $50 for a full page. The AML is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization, so
contributions of any an10unt are tax deductible and gratefully accepted.
Views expressed in Irreantum do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors or
of AML board members. This publication has no official connection with or endorse#
n1ent by The Church ofJesus Christ of Latter#day Saints. Irreantum is supported
by a grant from the Utah Arts Council and the National Endowment for the Arts,
Washington DC. Irreantum is indexed in the Modern Language Association Interna#
tional bibliography.
Typeset in Adobe Jenson
From the Archives I 175
Creative Nonfiction I 193
209
Chaim Potok as a Model for Mormon Literature
KYLIE NIELSON TURLEY Wrestling with LOS Motherhood:
Evolving Feminism in Josephine Spencer's liTo Keep" and
HLittle Mother"
HART WEGNER Leaving; Towers
DARLENE YOUNG Postpartum; How Long
NANI LII FURSE To Anne Katrine, Ancestor
TYLER CHADWICK Two Poems on Fatherhood; Watching
the Sunrise in St. George, Utah; Fourth Month Rosary
MARK BENNION Dear Father, Love, Abish; Swollen;
Coronation Plea
JOSEPHINE SPENCER Little Mother
EMILY MILNER Beauty for Ashes
DARREN M. EDWARDS Psalm of a Heretic
Reviews I 224 J OAL LEE The Land Eternal
Warren Hatch's Mapping tlJe Bones of the World
228
233
239
DOUG GIBSON Hedges and Edges to a Genre#Based Market
Christopher Bigelow's Kindred Spirits
and Eugene Woodbury's The Path ofDreams
DAVID G. PACE Coffee with Levi Peterson
Levi Peterson's A Rascal by Nature, a Christian by Yearning
LYNN PEDERSON A Balance of the Large and Small
Lance Larsen's In All Their Animal Brilliance
244 ARTIST'S STATEMENT
245 CONTRIBUTORS
VOLUME 9, NUMBER 2 (2007)
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VOLUME 10, NUMBER 1(2008)
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~
~
IX
~
::J
Z
~
~
0\
~
::J
~