"So, when Jake Williams kept making such a nuisance of himself, Old Mister Gus Parker—he was sitting across the aisle from him—hollered out, 'Jake Williams, you get quiet! We can't hear 'em readin' out the names!'
"Jake hollered back, 'Here's you a Christmas present, you old Parker coot!' And he grabbed out his pistol and shot the old gentleman dead, right there in the church!"
"No!"
"Mrs. Parker started screaming, Jake run out the door, and somebody blowed out the lights! Then every man in the house took to the woods. Left women and young'uns to get out and get home the best way they could!"
"It must've been a frightful thing!"
"It was, Nannie. 'Course the next morning the Parkers went back to the church to get Old Man Gus's body. But the tree with all the Christmas stuff was left standing there for weeks. Folks didn't have the heart to go back in the building.
"The following spring when the trial came up, Jake was convicted, but he broke jail and got away. Old Judge Crawford had all the rest of the Williamses, by name, to clear outta the country. And what few Parker men were left took their families and moved off too. They figured the killing could flare up again among some of the Williamses' blood relations, and there wouldn't be a Parker man or boy left to carry on their name. Wes Bailey's ma was one of the few who stayed behind. 'Course she was already married. Anyway, all the Baileys, except Addle Mae, are here tonight, and I'm glad. It's not good for a family to live to themselves so much. Besides, it's Christmas, and we ought'a all share it together."
"Looks to me like Wes and Lida Belle would've had Addle Mae come home for Christmas. There's something mighty strange about them letting her stay down in Louisiana so long."
"I reckon that's their business, Nannie."