When we went into the parlor, Flora and the men were discussing the crops we planted that spring.

“I put in a little patch of tobaccy, first time ever,” Ben said.

Albion shook his head. “It’s a heap of fuss.”

“But hit’s a little cash.”

“I got me a goat and a couple sheep. That there ewe is going to lamb real soon.”

“Oh,” Flora crooned, “I love a little lamb.”

“I’ll bring you some of the wool offn it.”

“You work that place all by yourself?” I asked.

He seemed touched that I had finally shown some interest, which irritated me further. “Hit aint a big place,” he said. “You wouldnt think it was much.”

I was supposed to say that I’d like to see it, but I didn’t. After a pause, he said, “You’ll have to come visit.”

“Wouldnt that be nice?” Flora exclaimed. “Carrie, you should go some Sunday and hear Albion preach.”

“I aint much of a preacher,” Albion said. “But I sure would be tickled ifn you’d come visit.”

“Flora and Ben would have to go too,” Aunt Becka said. “Hit’s a long ways. You’d have to stay the night Saturday.”

“I’d be honored,” Albion said. “And hit would mean a lot to introduce you to my congregation.”

“How about Sunday next?” Ben asked.

“Fine. We’ll kill a chicken and have a big dinner after church.”

“I’ll bake a cake,” Flora said. “Wont it be fun, Carrie?”

I crossed my legs and folded my arms. “Sure,” I said.

His farm was a cabin, barn and thirty acres tucked away in a cove on Kingdom Come. It had belonged to an old man who died without heirs and it had stood empty for a year before Albion arrived.

“Hit was a crazy man lived here,” Albion explained. “Went out of his mind after his wife died of the childbirth and kilt his own baby son. That was back during the War Between the States. He come back here after he got out of prison. He was allays standoffish with folks, wouldnt give no help nor ask for any hisself. Come time for him to die, no one knew he was gone for two weeks. Family up the road, Thornsberrys, say he come a tapping on their window late on Halloween. Next day they found him in the barn. Hung hisself from the rafters.”

“Oh, lordy,” Flora said. “I aint going in the barn.”

“No need to.” Albion patted her hand.

“Aint you scairt of being haunted?” I asked. I tried to sound like I didn’t believe his story.

He smiled. “I am haunted. But I aint scairt of it. Sometimes I feel an uneasy spirit, but I speak to it, sooth it. I tell it to talk to that baby. Folks hereabouts are happy to have a preacher living here.”

The night was unusually warm for April and we sat on the front porch. A chorus of peepers cried from the creek.