May heard the dirt bike approach, the world had become quieter - she was up in her room, at her vanity, her mother had let her help with the dinner preparations just briefly, it was proper to cook for him.

Also important for her not to be presentable, for her light makeup could be perfect, subtle.

"I'll come get you when he's here, May, so you have time to get ready." It served two purposes - May knew, for mother to wrangle father who had decided he didn't like Hickory, and for May wouldn't be seen as waiting...

She felt the sensation beneath her stomach pulse, as it always did when she thought of him. When she thought of how he could reach it - she let it roar briefly before she banked the coals for the evening, it wouldn't do for her to sweat -

"May, darling." Mother called, as though she'd forgotten, "Hickory's come by for dinner."

May didn't respond, instead glancing once more in her mirror, she'd wanted to wear her new dress - from the fabric she was making but she wasn't quite ready yet - that she couldn't afford the Sewing Skill, nor felt like she was ready to move past Embroidery, to leave it behind - the fabric that was being produced by the loom was exquisite, special. She knew that it needed to be done properly.

She descended the stairs in a peach skirt with a floral print, it was bordering on too much for a home dinner, but the simple fabric, the plain white flat sandals and her daffodil yellow nail polish reigned it back into lovely and casual -

She realized her feet would be the first thing Hickory saw - waiting on the landing with her father, how the stairs were - she'd taken special care to make that presentation appropriate. She walked slowly - her footfalls soft and patient, inviting, revealing.

"May." Hickory breathed and she saw his shoulders moving back and forth, wiggling - her father's stern expression quirked into a proud grin as well, seeing her properly attired -

"I was hoping you'd come by, Hickory." May said, "Mother mentioned she'd invited you."

He swallowed and then nodded once, he'd tried to comb the curls out of his hair with predictable result, she really did need to do something about it -

May's mother walked into the room with a tray of beverages and sat them on the coffee table, "Will you sit with us, Hickory?" Father asked, "You said you needed to speak to me about something?"

Hickory jerked his attention over - "Yes, Preacher."

"Call him James!" Mother chuckled, and father coughed - as she squeezed his arm.

"It's about church." Hickory said, after they'd exchanged more pleasantries, "I need to build one."

"Really?" May's father became more serious, "Are you considering becoming a man of the cloth?"

Hickory choked on his tea, his eyes wide - he shook his head, "No, no, I'm just the person to build it, of course I got to find a spot. In fact I was gonna build it a while back but seeing as your church already does a proper service I didn't believe I could add anything of merit so why waste the points?"

May had briefed her father a bit - on the subject, she'd gleaned enough from Weston, from Hickory himself in their brief interactions to understand, to prepare them, because Weston believed this was coming...

"Why, what a compliment." Mother asked, "James does tend his flock."

Hickory nodded, "And all that singing, and the snacks."

"But how -"

"Hickory, you want father to manage the church, don't you?" May said, "And there's so much extra space there, the parking lot hasn't been used."

Mother's ice cubes clattered in applause - blunt, but with these two you had to be -

"I was just gonna ask for the space, really -,"

"Two separate churches side by side?" Mother asked -

"Well, I'm not sure -"

"Mother, that's fine, there's plenty of people that would come to hear Hickory speak, he could get up front even if he isn't ordained, they'd look to him for guidance."

"They would?"

"They would?"

"Certainly, though they'd expect some sort of schedule, father how many hours a week do you keep the church open, for the food kitchen, the pantry, the counseling -"

"Too many if you ask me, it's not like he has time for fishing..." Mother said, mock sternly, then squeezed father's hand, "One of the reasons I love him."

Hickory gulped -

"Of course services could be combined." May said, "That this new - chapel could be integrated? We're not talking about a separate religion, are we?"

"No, it's non- uh, non-"

"Denominational?"

Hickory shrugged, "I think it's more like a quiet place, more like just a room I reckon, the picture of it is just a cute lil church and it supposed to help with the spirit but if it's gonna be a bother I don't have to build it at all."

"Oh, dear - James, weren't you just saying you needed additional space, that the congregation has grown? Think of the good -"

"The Covanger's have offered to expand -"

"This is free."

"Oh, it ain't free." Hickory said, "It don't cost me money but that upkeepin' adds up quick and all that."

"I won't refuse an honest donation that benefits the community." Father said, "But...I'm not without concern, without caution. That - from everything I've heard, of all the miracles they certainly also bring questions..."

Hickory nodded - and May observed as Hickory watched her father seriously, and realized -

"Father, do you have any answers?"

"Of course not, I have faith." He said, and Hickory sagged - deflated a bit, even - He truly doesn't know -

"Wouldn't this be the best way to try to answer them?" May asked, "That who is better suited to validate, or if needed, protect the congregation."

More applause -

"I know there's nobody I would trust more." Mother added, "That nobody does."

"Well...I."

But Hickory was nodding, too -

"Ma always said it was the church she'd felt most home in, that if she wasn't sick she'd have a whole pew roped off with her name on it, not that she'd need it, mind ya, she was always near the first one through that door Sunday morning, only started sitting in the back cause she said I was a wiggler."

"I remember your mother, Hickory, and you." Preacher said, changing aims, and he did grin, "I asked after her, even tried visiting to see if she was doing well - I still pray for her, send her cards to thank her for the generous donations."

Hickory nodded, "Ma still don't miss a tithe, I know that, boy, when I was younger how it made me cry to drop my bubble gum quarters in that tray."

May rebuked herself for the puzzled slant she knew her features briefly contained, that only her mother noticed, and that was worse - perhaps answers? Why withhold them until now? Of course father didn't gossip, didn't share such things -

"So what do you say, Preacher?" Hickory said, "I got to build it, it's been chewing on my mind to have a chance to build a church and not done it yet. But such things have to be done right and with grace and it would be your grace I'd ask before building."

May watched her father become somewhat disarmed, and knew the conversation he was having with himself - 'He'd not ask to date my daughter, yet offer to build a church? Who is this?' Hickory -

Father nodded.

"How wonderful!" Mother smiled, patting Hickory's knee, and excusing herself to make kitchen noises -

"It sounds like dinner's ready." Father smiled - and business faded into the background, afterward Hickory started telling a joke - realized it was vulgar -

"I would love to see the church built." Mother said, saving him - and then they were there after a short drive, watching Hickory bow his head like in prayer, but he held up his left hand, that if May didn't know by now he was flipping through an invisible book it would look like finger magic, or something equally strange because then a ball of water splashed in his hands as though he'd grasped it from the fountain.

"Uh oh." Hickory whispered, looking up with wide eyes -

"What?" May asked, she felt her excitement -

"It's bigger then I thought, it's - gonna need more room." He turned his head - "We got to get them cars moved."

"What?"

"How big is it dear?"

"Oh, right now not that big but, and this ain't happened before as I can tell, but from what I'm seeing it's gonna end up bigger then the church as it's got a big shadow footprint."

"Bigger then my church? By how much?"

"I don't know, five or six times maybe? It's hard to tell I cain't see what's underground, or how tall it will get, just where she's gonna lay, it's like saving space for the tomato plants, since they grow so tall."

"We don't know who the cars belong to." Father said, still recovering -

"Oh, alright then." Hickory said and he walked over and punched the window, the glass shattered, he popped the clutch and then started pushing it, one after another -

"What do you expect him to do, dear?" May heard her mother whispering, soothing her father - then father began to help, busting windows in his church parking lot and pushing cars into the pile Hickory had made as May's mother retreated to their own vehicle for a picnic basket -

Always prepared -

May helped her set up a small table, was pouring lemonade and had poppyseed cakes laid out, it was store bought - preserved, she got ice from the church - moving with such deft clarity that May was thankful her life was filled with so many role models -

Then she watched - as Hickory returned to the spot they discussed and aimed his head, shuffling his body like he was a photographer, hand still gripped in a fist around the water the entire time and then he flicked it, sending it onto the asphalt where it splashed and sizzled like acid.

Then it began to grow - or rather, it was like a giant invisible sheet was slowly being pulled off to reveal a simple, massive stone building. The large space that Hickory had pointed out was just grey stone, like the asphalt had melted into a smooth slate, and she could tell Hickory was correct that if it was going to be that big? One day?

How tall?

Her imagination made the actual structure seem tiny, just larger then the Town Hall building that still had people confused, there were large scoops taken out for doorways that didn't close.

It resembled a boulder - a rock. For all it was simple, even boring she heard her father whisper - Build your home on a rock...he, also, was a humble man in his own right, in his own way. After the top was revealed and the building was done, they followed Hickory inside and saw instantly his expression was a mix of confusion and guilt.

"Is everything alright?" May asked, and he turned, facing her and she felt her passion roaring, had felt it as she walked closer to him -

"Don't you feel it May?"

She blushed, nearly stuttered - "Feel what?"

"The spirit." Hickory whispered, "That's what it meant."

She looked to her father who had also drank from the Font, her mother, too - they had the looks of people that could almost hear something.

"I was supposed to build this first." He whispered - and May realized that the feeling in her hadn't grown from approaching Hickory as she expected, or at least not only - that it had grown when she'd entered the Chapel.

It was an open room, there were two carved alcoves, one at each side of a center raised stone platform just a step above ground level. There was nothing in the room, no seating, no stained glass windows, no adornments.

The light diffused evenly, to the point it seemed to be reflected off the walls and though it seemed the entire building would be dim it was instead comfortably illuminated. One of the alcoves contained a book on a pedestal May realized - she approached it.

Flipping it open reverently - she'd played with the one in the market, the Town Hall - but this was a Church -

Spirit Meditation and Focusing Module - Blood

To relax the mind to a state of spiritual development and control through metaphorical development requires a state of self examination.

This module encourages the awakening of a singular aspect.

The Blood.

Feel how it courses through the body, understand the direction, the vascular pathways delivering the essential, complicated formula for life and open the mind to its complex and necessary role.

Blood.

See it, bright red and leaking, a trail followed back to a scurrilous wound on a wet and worrisome journey to what end, the end? Or does it portend a beginning, the birthing fluid of life to come, held waiting and nurtured, growing and feeding off it's bold bounty.

Our Blood.

United, that link between the members, shared and passed through genetic testament, intrinsic to familial acknowledgment and not required, an offered gift from those with open hearts to welcome, into arms - of matrimonious, newly wed or partnered in fantastic desire, perhaps just fraternal wisdom would be enough -

At first May thought it was rambling - thought it was insane, certainly not a religious book of any sort, it was gratingly, obtusely poetic and evocative, long - pages and pages of words that only made her think of blood loosely, metaphorically - it also had a hypnotic quality, that as she read - as she felt her mind wander it always led her mind back to blood -

Then presented new ideas, emotional ideas, and that a lot of it didn't make sense to her, wouldn't have made sense to her if it wasn't for what she already felt - her passion.

It wasn't blood, it wasn't located there, it was somewhere else. That she was glad this module didn't discuss such a place because certainly father would be insisting Hickory tear the building down, but - she was able to see that, as she focused on the blood - on the various ideas presented as well, some of them matched.

That her blood - it was family. In a way, and she felt warmth, tenderness, joy - and that comforted her and she knew it was in her blood, and that there was a power there...

That the purpose of this book was to awaken that power, and May couldn't tell if she could also awaken her blood or if her power was now tied to...was it limited to one? What did her power do? She knew Hickory had a sword and also turned bluish - that Weston was also blue, but caught on fire -

The other boys didn't do anything, that it had become somewhat of a sour point between them, a veiled jealousy, she reckoned in the competition that always was ongoing between boys -

Emotion + Body?

Was that it? Was that, that felt wrong...didn't it? And yet - she caught a flash of movement in her eye and turned around, realized she'd completely zoned out - that there was something about this building that had a relaxing effect on the mind - that encouraged contemplation - it wasn't holy, of Christ - she didn't feel that - it was...

Hallowed?

It was the absence of religious imagery, it was natural, it was the smoothness, the openness, the embrace of nature and also the human bodies that could move without hindrance or door, and in a way May thought that this - was how a church should be -

That this - that Jesus spoke from on top of a rock, so had Mohammad, in nature, not for stature but so they could be heard by those that would listen...

What was strange was May also felt it was wrong to give a sermon in this room, that this room was not for that - that this was not a place to go to be told what to believe, but that it was a place to discover what one believed...

Which wasn't to say she felt any less in tuned with God, her God - there was nothing here that challenged belief, it's just she felt completely welcome, like walking in a meadow unowned by any, unaltered, untamed - free...

Her eyes focused and saw her father shaking his head, saying no - she hadn't heard what Hickory said, but - they weren't arguing as she approached -

"The throne would probably set the wrong impression, even if it offers benefits, you've been able to defend the town fine without?"

Hickory nodded -

"Then I would respect that instinct, but pray about it. That it gives me hope that others have a way to defend themselves, that perhaps weren't as well armed as we were, or as lucky."

"It ain't an easy thing, here." Hickory said gravely, an expression that didn't match the surroundings, that May felt was wrong, and her father's serious face - mentoring.

"Power is never easy, but if you are correct and the intent of this facility is give people weapons to fight back as well...as much as I want to urge restraint I also want my family safe, if you really want me to balance that as your guide, I will - but Hickory, I am not a pacifist. Neither was Christ. Neither are you."

They both chuckled at that - two men. That as her father noticed May his laughter died, a reminder that the two didn't agree on everything, and in a way - May liked that. That Weston was the one her father liked, he was proper, gentlemanly -

That seeing Hickory dressed up in his finest was a linen flannel shirt instead of a rough spun cotton, almost new blue jeans. Riding over on a dirt bike - Her mother interceded - pulling her father away to show him the book, leaving her and Hickory almost alone -

"I have something for you." Hickory said, and May fluttered her eyelashes, making sure she looked intrigued, but not desperate -

Hickory reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief and unwrapped it - and she felt her excitement crash as she realized -

"Fish scales?"

Hickory didn't seem to notice, "May, they're magic fish scales. Well, I think they are, you see I was fishing and I caught a huge fish, bigger then Westons fish by a lot..."

Hickory looked at her seriously, she nodded - they were fishing together?

"It took me a good long bit to reel it in, I had to go in after it -" Hickory talked about fishing, speaking faster and faster, and handing May the handkerchief. That she didn't have to be unimpressed - it was thoughtful, for the Loom, and perhaps it would be unique, perhaps it would have more of an effect then the flowers and feathers she was experimenting with, that were working fine so far -

"I was gonna bring you the whole fish to just -"

"No." May said shaking her hand, "My instrument is not going to be smelling like fish."

That May practically heard her parents necks pop as they spun toward her, that she'd finally surprised her mother - she'd explain the loom to them later.

"Oh, alright." Hickory said shrugging, his eyes kept darting to where her parents stood, small fists beating against a barrier - trapped, "I reckon I better get going and thank your family for such a fine as fine can be supper, and just maybe I'll be having a chance to see you again in that near future?"

May nodded, her hands still cupped around a handkerchief full of fish scales as Hickory said goodbye to everyone and left.

Fish scales...

May probably wouldn't have slept easily with that gift...if she wasn't so exhausted. Of course a light makeup could hide tired eyes, and she knew she needed her rest because she was busy.

The next morning, before light May worked. Not truly...because it was women's work. It was unpaid work. Important work.

"Mrs. Waynecock." May smiled.

"Oh, how do you look so lovely this early!" Mrs. Waynecock said, but with a smile. Smiles were important.

May had already pulled the giant pots of stock from the fires, where they were left to simmer overnight. Fish stock.

Each pot had to be drained, and the bones, the leavings - the parts you couldn't waste when people were hungry. Stores were closed...

And May wasn't dressed nicely - neatly? Certainly. But her hair was brushed straight, tied back with kerchief and she wore an apron, her hands gloved mostly in hope because -

Fish.

Three missed meals from chaos. That is where humanity stands, has always stood. And society rested in the hands of women, and the stomachs of men.

May pulled the grills, the metal they'd pulled from all the ovens in town that no longer worked, and she began to use a rake to pull the ash from the fire pits, smooth deft motions.

The ash would be fertilizer for the gardens they were rushing to ready, to have a chance to stave off winter's ruin -

The coals kept aside, some to restart the fire, some for other projects...coals were used for filtration, for sidewalk chalk for the kids, for eyeliner one day? The secret economy - what would the world be without makeup?

May worked - worked in secret with the other women, not because they were ashamed. But because they wanted to look beautiful, they wanted to feel beautful - that to see her now...

People could starve - sacrifices had to be made. May hoed the ash, prepared the coals, and took the cut sticks, the dry wood and spread them out over the pits, lit the fire with crumbled newspaper -

Would they use money soon? Since people wouldn't take it - just trade, just barter...

She lit the fire and put the grills back on, Julie Lynn was straining the fishy broth, separating the bones, the scales from the water and then the girls sat at a table together and began to butcher whole fish - skinning and cutting, gutting and filleting. Careful to get every scrap of flesh possible.

"It was Mr. Jamison that brought in the most yesterday?" They took turns, thanking people who brought the donations of fish, of food, "I'll have to say an extra prayer for him."

"Of course, he's been so generous, spends all his time fishing for others." Mrs. Waynecock nodded, "I wish more people would."

"I wish more people would gut their fish." Amy said as she daintily stuck her hand into the split stomach -

May chopped the head off a stripped bass - it was harder to be subtle without tea...

"It's just, I'm sure they wouldn't mind and then...of course, they're the ones giving." Julie-Lynn changed track.

Mrs. Waynecock nodded - wise. Worldly, "He's fond of Golden Retrievers."

Amy and Julie-Lynn didn't blush at the reprisal - they were getting better!

"Perhaps a handkerchief?"

"With your skill, Julie?" May smiled, "I'm sure he'd love something to display, not tuck away."

And Julie did blush this time! May used her knife to descale a fish - the sound of applause. It was important to appear humble.

And it wasn't tea - but women's work. By the time May was done she was covered in fish scales, and it wasn't that Hickory wasn't thoughtful...he didn't know her. Didn't know the last thing a Lady wanted to discuss was fishing, and be given fish scales as a present -

After three hours of gutting and cutting and cleaning them. And he'd probably never no, none of the men would, because May didn't want Hickory thinking of her covered in fish offal...

Later in the day, when Mr. Jamison came in to drop off another load of fish there was a crowd eating, surviving off the soup. The small bread cakes they were still able to scrounge up -

"Mr. Jamison!" Julie-Lynn shouted, waving at him.

"It's Mr, Jamison?" Amy stood up from her seat, the people eating paused.

May was so proud of them! As Julie-Lynn glided forward, just short of rushing - she hugged the man, who looked genuinely surprised. Almost confused.

"Are you here to try the fish you brought, you don't ever get to taste it - you must be hungry."

"Oh, my wife cooks a bit at home -"

"You catch even more than this!" Amy gasped, looking at Julie-Lynn in disbelief. Julie of course looked down into the bucket wide eyed, "You must have some secret, I won't press you for it, if only more men had your skill."

"Is that for us?" May gasped as she fought for the man's attention as well, sweetly nudging the other girls out of the way.

"Oh, it - of course it is!" Mr. Jamison grinned, "I didn't know it was that big a deal, I just get a few extra..."

He was blushing.

"You mean you weren't even trying and - we'll it's certainly not a competition, it's just we notice who brings in the most fish and we couldn't help but see."

"We're so grateful."

"We wanted to make sure you didn't get sunburned - we see you like hats, and -"

"Is that Remington?" Mr. Jamison gasped as a hat was produced, a Golden Retriever with a fish in its mouth, 'The Best of Red Hills.' "This is neater then heck!"

The ladies pushed him to a chair, and served him lunch, soup - the special pot, his bread cakes had raisins in it, and his cup was filled with sweet iced tea.

"I'll bring him by, he's old and doesn't get around as easily as he use to, but gosh, he's gonna love this hat. So will my wife."

"Well, I hope you bring them both by to eat more often."

"Oh, I will, I certainly will!"

Heroes. The next day Mr. Jamison did come by wearing a hat, with a dog, a wife who winked at May - of course it had been her idea to donate fish, May reckoned...

And did a few more people come by as well? Did a few more people not just want to come by for free food, but a way to feel like they earned it? They did earn it - they were human.

Part of a community. Everybody could be appreciated, could contribute. May searched for how they did and - small tokens. Small gifts that said you saw what somebody did and appreciated it!

Fish scales.

Maybe she deserved them in a way, with what she did - it wasn't always...honest. It could be ugly, from a certain perspective, but it kept people fed. It was Women's Work.