Spencerville

away.
    He watched her walk along the shore. She spoke to a few people as she passed by, then stopped and chatted with the two older men who were fishing. They laughed at something she said, and watched her as she walked away.
    Annie got to her car, opened the door, and looked back at the trees. Although she couldn’t see him in the shadows from that distance, she waved, and he waved back. She got into the car, backed up over the rise, and disappeared.
    Keith stood awhile, then walked back upstream.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
    K eith Landry went to St. James for Sunday services, mostly because he’d been specifically invited by Pastor Wilkes, but partly out of curiosity and nostalgia.
    The small church was almost full, and in the tradition of rural people, everyone was dressed in their Sunday best. Pastor Wilkes delivered a nicely pointed sermon on morality in government, specifically mentioning that public officials who break the Ten Commandments and ignore the laws of God are not fit to hold positions of trust in the nation or the community. Keith figured that Wilkes had read a transcript of Thursday’s meeting and got right to work on the sermon. Pastor Wilkes didn’t mention names, of course, but Keith was pretty sure everyone around him got it. He was also happy that Wilkes hadn’t taken the opportunity to give a sermon on the coveting and adultery thing.
    There was only one service at this small rural church, which put some peer pressure on the congregation, who couldn’t play hooky and leave it to their neighbors to assume they’d gone to the other service. Keith had found this a problem when he was a teenager, but by his junior year of high school, he’d started going to St. John’s in Spencerville and somehow always wound up near the Prentis family. His church attendance improved dramatically, and Mr. and Mrs. Prentis liked to see him there, but he felt guilty about his motives, not to mention the thoughts that ran through his mind during the service.
    Keith looked around St. James and saw a number of people he knew, including his Aunt Betty, the Muller and Jenkins families, Jenny, without her friend of Thursday evening, but with two young children, and, interestingly, Police Officer Schenley from the high school and church parking lot incidents, with his family. Also there was Sherry Kolarik, of all people, who Keith imagined had returned to the scene of her public confession as a first step toward spiritual health. Like himself, Ms. Kolarik was undoubtedly relieved that Pastor Wilkes wasn’t looking at her. However, the pastor did make an oblique reference to her predicament by reminding everyone that women were the weaker vessel, more sinned against than sinners themselves. Keith wondered how that would play in Washington, D.C.
    Keith did not see the Porters and hadn’t really expected to, but he had thought, or hoped, that Annie would surprise him by being there. But he guessed that this wasn’t possible, that she’d be at St. John’s with her sinning husband, and Keith wondered if he should drive into town for the eleven A.M. service there. He mulled this over, but decided it was not a very smart move at this juncture of events.
    The service ended, and Keith walked down the church steps, where Pastor Wilkes shook the hands of everyone there and called them by name. Keith usually managed to avoid this familiarity after church, but this time he stood in line. When he got to Pastor Wilkes, they shook hands, and the old man seemed genuinely happy to see him, saying, “Welcome home, Mr. Landry. I’m delighted you could come.”
    “Thank you for inviting me, sir. I enjoyed your sermon.”
    “I hope you’re able to come next week. Our discussion gave me an idea for a sermon.”
    “About the return of the prodigal son?”
    “I had something else in mind, Mr. Landry.”
    “I may be out of town next Sunday.”
    Wilkes smiled mischievously. “Pity. I was going to discuss the role of the church in public affairs.”
    “Good topic. Perhaps you could send me a copy of it.”
    “I will.”
    They shook hands again, and Keith moved off. It was a cool, blustery morning, and a north wind blew through the cornfields and the trees, scattering the first leaves of autumn over the grass and through the tombstones of the churchyard. It was a starkly beautiful day, the white church and parsonage, the tall swaying elms, the picket fence of the cemetery, the clouds sailing across a pewter-colored sky. But there