LuAnn ran the back of her hand over her forehead and peered out the window again. What was Sophie doing out there in this heat? She’d been outside for ages now, squatting over something. Digging, maybe: she’d come into the kitchen earlier, looking for her spade. But why was she digging there in the driveway – on that spot, of all places?  Why wasn’t she digging in the sandpit?  And for pity’s sake, digging? In this heat?

Leaning over the sink, she pulled the curtains aside and hollered. ‘What’re you doing out there, honey?’

Sophie stared up at her for a moment, then turned back to her work, pouring water from a jug into the the hole she had dug.  Sighing, LuAnn put down her sponge and went outside.

‘Excuse me young lady, I believe I asked what you were doing.’

For a moment, Sophie said nothing. Then she looked up at her mother again. ‘I’m giving the people in hell a drink.’

It sounded so funny, coming from an eight-year-old, that LuAnn almost burst out laughing. But Sophie’s face was so full of dogged determination as she hunched there, her small hand gripping the scoop, that LuAnn checked herself.  She wondered why Sophie had picked that very spot; could someone have told her about that night when her daddy had driven home so drunk he couldn’t even remember that her sister’s car was in the driveway? The family made a point of not talking about the accident; Sophie knew her daddy and her Auntie Jill had died, but that was about it.

LuAnn watched Sophie dig. The ground was hard: packed earth tangled with roots and small stones; she could see the sweat beading up on the back of her neck. It was possible Sophie'd overheard something. Afterwards everyone had said that for all that it was a tragedy, two young people dying like that, they ought to look on the bright side. God had given them two miracles: one, that Sophie was staying at her grandma’s that night -- twenty minutes earlier and she'd have been in the car with her Auntie Jill; two, that Jim managed to make it home without killing anyone along the way.

‘LuAnn decided to play along. 'You don't need to dig, honey. Just wait for it to rain and the sinners will have plenty.’

Sophie shrugged and frowned. ‘Takes too long that way.’

This was true; the drought had been going on for months.

‘But wh-’ began LuAnn, then she stopped. Last Sunday’s sermon had been more hellfire-and-damnation than usual. It could be a little scary for a child to hear something like that, but a little fear was surely a good thing. You wanted children to know that there were lines they shouldn’t cross, wanted them to know right from wrong. She stared down at Sophie for a few moments, then sighed. If only knowing right from wrong was enough to keep you in God’s grace.  Jim had known right from wrong, and where had that gotten him?

Sophie continued to dig. LuAnn reached down and smoothed the hair out of her face. 'You come inside when I call you for lunch, you hear?’

'Mama?' said Sophie over lunch.

'Mmm?'

'You know how Brother Dougal says that people who haven't received the light have to go to hell?

LuAnn looked up from her plate. 'Uh huh?'

'Well, what if they're little babies. And no one's ever told them about Jesus.'

LuAnn picked up her plate and walked over to the sink. 'I'm not sure about that one, honey, I think you'll have to ask Brother Dougal.'

'But I did and he says that they have to burn in hell just the same.'

LuAnn put down her plate. 'I didn't make the world, honey. Some things just aren't fair, but scripture says . . .'  Her voice trailed off.

Sophie got up from the table. 'I'm finished,' she said, though she'd hardly touched her black eyed peas.  LuAnn called out to her, but it was no use. The next time she looked out the window, Sophie was back at her digging.

 

Later that evening, LuAnn made sure that Sophie went to bed early. Tomorrow was Sunday and it always seemed to be a struggle to get to church on time. When she went back into Sophie’s room for their evening chat, she had already fallen asleep. LuAnn sighed. The days were so hectic and she was so busy; it was hard to find the time to sit down and talk with Sophie like they had in the old days when Jim had still been with them. She stood looking down for a moment, then reached out to stroke Sophie’s cheek. Sophie’s lashes were long – like her father’s – and her dark hair was already pasted to her forehead, damp from the heat. She seemed to be frowning in her sleep, her eyebrows drawn together as though she were trying to figure something out. She couldn’t help it if she looked just like her father, poor baby!  And she couldn’t help it that she missed him either, even though she’d been only five when he died. None of this was Sophie’s fault, but having a father like that – well, it was all the more reason that she needed to go to church, needed a firm hand in life.  

Leaving the room, she saw the glittery purple and pink diary Sophie had wanted for Christmas. She stood and looked at it for a moment, hesitating. Surely a mother had a right to know what her own daughter was worried about -- what she would want to confide in a diary. It wasn't as though she was snooping, really; it was more that she wanted to know what was on her daughter's mind. Glancing over at the bed, she picked it up and leafed through the pages. Sophie hadn’t managed to write every day, but she had written quite a bit all the same.

January 12:  Auntie Sue tole Uncle Phil that Daddys burning in hell.

March 19:   Brother Dougal says that all sinners burn in hell for ever and ever.

April 2:  Mrs Bell says that sinners shall be cast into hellfire and their thirst shall never be quinched. They will be parched and dry and endure internal tornment.

May 23:  Uncle Phil said he will never forgive Daddy. Mrs Bell says you have to forgive people, especially sinners.

LuAnn put the diary down and leaned against the wall. She stared across the room at her sleeping daughter, her small form bathed in moonlight. All this time Sophie had sat there next to her, listening to those sermons. Hellfire and damnation -- all those sinners burning up in hell, thirsting for ever and ever with no salvation in sight.  Brother Dougal talked so much about forgiveness and redemption, but there was no mistaking the satisfaction he got from describing the unending torment all of those sinning nonbelievers were destined to suffer.

She put the diary back and sat down next to Sophie, smoothing her forehead  with one hand. Perhaps they wouldn’t go to church in the morning after all.