Excerpts from The Coal Tattoo

FEATUREDAUTHOR Excerpts from The Coal Tattoo_________ Silas House In this scenefrom House's new novel, The Coal Tattoo, Easter Mcintosh is worrying about her sister, Anneth Sizemore, running off to get married and moving to Nashville on a whim. Easter is also beginning to examine her own relationship with the church and her marriage and how both those things hinder the other. The novel is setfrom 1957-1970, and this scene takes place in the early 1960s. EASTER HADN'T BEEN FISHING since she was a child, but the memory resided in her hands so clearly that when she felt the pluck of a bluegill on the end of her line, she immediately drew back her rod to set the hook and started reeling the fish into the boat. She couldn't help growing excited as the bluegill raced toward the river's bottom, pulling her line taut. Then it came up so close to the water's surface that she could see a zoom of its glistening back as it caught sunlight. She stood, causing the rowboat to rock and tremble, but did not lose her balance as she reeled the line all the way in and swung the end ofthe pole around so she could take the fish off the hook. The bluegill hit the wooden floor and flopped with such strength that itnearly made its waybackinto the water, its iridescent scales sending glints of sunlight against the sides of the boat. "Here, I'll get it," El said, rising up from his seat at the end of the boat. He had been watching her quietly except for the loud clap he gave when she managed to get the fish into the boat. Easter snatched the fish up off the floor with one quick motion and reached in to grasp the neck of the hook, working it back and forth. "I can get my own fish off, thank you very much," she said. "You seem to forget I'm a country girl." El leaned over to unlatch the lid of the wire basket he had tied to the side of their boat and held it openwhile Easter dropped the bluegill in. She dug into the cold loam of the coffee can to pull out another nightcrawler. "What do you think about that, now, buddy?" she said to El. "I'm already beating you." "We've only been out here twenty minutes," El said, smiling. He pulled his tee-shirt over his head and sat there bare-chested. She knew 23 he had done this not because he was hot but because he relished the feel of the breeze against his skin. "You won't be ahead long." "We'll see who comes away with the most when we get ready to go home," she said. She sat down and baited her hook, cast her line, and looked out over the winding expanse of the Black Banks River. She could smell the sandbar willows that leaned over the water, the dripping cliffs further upstream. Here the shade was thick and blue, and a breeze was always present, just enough to move the boat around in a slow little circle from the anchor. She heard the glee in her own voice and saw the peace of this place and instantly chastised herself for the tenth time that morning. She had let El talk her into going fishing instead of going to church. In the last year her churchgoing had been their biggest problem. It wasn't that El griped about her going to church, really. But often the only day he was home from work was Sunday, and she couldn't blame him for not wanting to spend his only time at home within the confines of the church-house. He wanted to be out fishing or driving up to Natural Bridge or simply sitting around the house with her. It was a paradox—miss church to be with your husband, or go to church and not see him for another week. At first she had been relentless, not letting anything stand in her way of attending both services that were held on Sundays. She told him that he ought...