'Yes,' seemed the safest.
There was an extremely awkward silence broken finally by Mrs Mathervitie's business sense.
'Ten dollars a day. Seven with prayers. Providence is extra.'
'Yes, well I suppose it would be,' said Piper.
'Meaning?' said Mrs Mathervitie.
'That the good Lord will provide,' interjected Baby before Piper's slight hysteria could manifest itself again.
'Amen,' said Mrs Mathervitie. 'Well which is it to be? With prayers or without?'
'With,' said Baby.
'Fourteen dollars,' said Mrs Mathervitie, 'in advance.'
'Pay now and pray later?' said Piper hopefully.
Mrs Mathervitie's eyes gleamed coldly. 'For a preacher...' she began but Baby intervened.
'The Reverend means we should pray without ceasing.'
'Amen,' said Mrs Mathervitie and knelt on the linoleum.'
Baby followed her example. Piper looked down at them in astonishment.
'Dear God,' he muttered.
'Amen,' said Mrs Mathervitie and Baby in unison. 'Say the good words, Reverend,' said Baby.
'For Christ's sake,' said Piper fighting for inspiration. He didn't know any prayers and as for good words...On the floor Mrs Mathervitie twitched dangerously. Piper found the good words. They came from The Moral Novel.
'It is our duty not to enjoy but to appreciate,' he intoned, 'not to be entertained but to be edified, not to read that we may escape the responsibilities of life but that, through reading, we may more properly understand what it is that we are and do and that born anew in the vicarious experience of others we may extend our awareness and our sensibilities and so enriched by how we read we may be better human beings.'
'Amen,' said Mrs Mathervitie fervently. 'Amen,' said Baby.
'Amen,' said Piper and sat down on the bed. Mrs Mathervitie got to her feet.
'I thank you for those good words, Reverend,' she said and left the room.
'What the hell was all that about?' said Piper when her footsteps had faded. Baby stood up and raised a finger to her lips. 'No cussing. No brownbagging.'
'And that's another thing...' Piper began but Mrs Mathervitie's footsteps came down the passage again.
'Conventicle's at eight,' she said poking her head round the door. 'Doesn't do to be late.'
Piper regarded her biliously. 'Conventicle?'
'Conventicle of the Seventh Day Church of The Servants of God,' said Mrs Mathervitie. 'You said you wanted prayers.'
'The Reverend and I will be right with you,' said Baby. Mrs Mathervitie removed her head. Baby took Piper's arm and pushed him towards the door.
'Good God, you've really landed us '
'Amen,' said Baby as they went out into the passage. Mrs Mathervitie was waiting on the porch.
'The Church is in the town square,' she said as they climbed into the Ford and presently they were driving down the darkened street where the Spanish moss looked even more sinister to Piper. By the time they stopped outside a small wooden church in the square he was in a state of panic.
'They won't want me to pray again, will they?' he whispered to Baby as they climbed the steps to the church. From inside there came the sound of a hymn.
'We're late,' said Mrs Mathervitie and hurried them down the aisle. The church was crowded but a row of seats at the very front was empty. A moment later Piper found himself clutching a hymn-book and singing an extraordinary hymn called 'Telephoning To Glory'.
When the hymn ended there was a scuffling of feet and the congregation knelt and the preacher launched into prayer. 'Oh Lord we is all sinners,' he declared.
'Oh Lord we is all sinners,' bawled Mrs Mathervitie and the rest of the congregation.
'Oh Lord we is all sinners waiting to be saved,' continued the preacher.
'Waiting to be saved. Waiting to be saved.'
'From the fires of hell and the snares of Satan.'
'From the fires of hell and the snares of Satan.'
Beside Piper Mrs Mathervitie had begun to quiver. 'Hallelujah,' she cried.
When the prayer ended a large black woman who was standing beside the piano began 'Washed In The Blood Of The Lamb' and from there it was but a short step to 'Jericho' and finally a hymn which went 'Servants of The Lord we Pledge our Faith in Thee' with a chorus of 'Faith, Faith, Faith in The Lord, Faith in Jesus is Mightier than the Sword'. Much to his own amazement Piper sang as loudly as anyone and the enthusiasm began to get to him. By this time Mrs Mathervitie was stomping her foot while several other women were clapping their hands. They sang the hymn twice and then went straight into another about Eve and The Apple. As the reverberations died away the preacher raised his hands.
'Brothers and sisters...' he began, only to be interrupted.
'Bring on the serpents,' shouted someone at the back.
The preacher lowered his hands. 'Serpents night's Saturday,' he said. 'You know that.'
But the cry 'Bring on the serpents,' was taken up and the large black lady struck up 'Faith in The Lord and the Snakes won't Bite, Them's has Faith is Saved all Right.'
'Snakes?' said Piper to Mrs Mathervitie, 'I thought you said this was Servants of The Lord.'
'Snakes is Saturday,' said Mrs Mathervitie looking decidedly alarmed herself. 'I only come Thursdays. I don't hold with serpentizing.'
'Serpentizing?' said Piper suddenly alive to what was about to happen, 'Jesus Wept.' Beside him Baby was already weeping but Piper was too concerned for his own safety to bother about her. A sack was brought down the aisle by a tall gaunt man. It was a large sack, a large sack which writhed. So did Piper. A moment later he had shot out of his seat and was heading for the door only to find his way blocked by a number of other people who evidently shared his lack of enthusiasm for being confined in a small church with a sackful of poisonous snakes. A hand shoved him aside and Piper fell back into his seat again. 'Let's get the hell out of here,' he shouted to Baby but she was looking with rapt attention at the pianist, a small thin man who was thumping away on the keys with a fervour that was possibly due to what looked like a small boa constrictor which had twined itself round his neck. Behind the piano the large black lady was using two rattlesnakes as maracas and singing 'Bibliopolis we Hold Thee Dear, Snakes Infest us we don't Fear' which certainly didn't apply to Piper. He was about to make another dash for the door when something slithered across his feet. It was Mrs Mathervitie. Piper sat petrified and moaned. Beside him Baby was moaning too. There was a strange seraphic look on her face. At that moment the man with the sack lifted from it a snake with red and yellow bands across its body.
'The Coral,' someone hissed. The strains of 'Bibliopolis we Hold Thee Dear' faded abruptly. In the silence that followed Baby got to her feet and moved hypnotically forward. By the dim light of the candles she looked majestic and beautiful. She took the snake from the man and held it aloft and her arm became a caduceus, the symbol of medicine. Then, turning to face the congregation, she tore her blouse to the waist and exposed two voluptuously pointed breasts. There was another gasp of horror. Naked breasts were out in Bibliopolis. On the other hand the coral snake was in. As Baby lowered her arm the outraged snake sank its fangs into six inches of plastic silicon. For ten seconds it writhed there before Baby detached it and offered it the other breast. But the coral had had enough. So had Piper. With a groan he joined Mrs Mathervitie on the floor. Baby, triumphantly topless, tossed the coral into the sack and turned to the pianist.
'Launch into the deep, brother,' she cried.
And once again the little church reverberated to the strains of 'Bibliopolis we hold Thee Dear, Snakes Infest us we don't Fear'.
Chapter 21