Party at the Moontower…Part 2: Getting Ready

When we were first told of the plans for this wedding/reception, there was mention that the ceremony would be outside, and that the reception would be in a barn. The image that I had in my head was probably the same one that you have right now. However, when I arrived at the “barn”, what I had imagined was not even remotely close. Not by a long shot.

I pulled into a driveway on a piece of land that had two buildings. One was a little house that had a wooden deck practically all the way around it. The other, was a two story building (previously a residence) that served as a bait shop. There was a porch on the front and a wooden staircase that went up the side of the building to the second story. On the back of this building was also a small addition, making it a fairly good sized structure. I pulled into a small paved parking lot and walked the rest of the way up the drive. There were already a half dozen cars there, and I could see that Graham was not alone. I spotted him in the small crowd and asked for an update. He just shook his head and smiled. The wind had picked up, causing me to look up into the sky. The clouds were beginning to churn and it started to spit a little rain. It looked like things could start to unravel on our little soirée at any time.

“Where’s the barn?” I asked. He pointed to the small room at the back of the second building. “Right there,” he said. I was confused because I was expecting a barn barn and not a building that folks were calling a barn, which wasn’t really a barn at all. The whole setup was basically this building and a paved driveway that wrapped around it. As we walked behind the building I noticed that there was a grill going already, but the smells of barbeque were being edged out by the fragrances of nature. All around the property were fenced in pastures and about a dozen cows. The fences butted up right next to the pavement of the driveway and the sources of the “fragrance of nature” were abundant and very close to the “barn”. There was also another smell that I could not quite make out, but was definitely overpowering both the grill and the contents of the pasture.

Graham had gone over what he’d done and seen since he’d been there. They had set up one table at the back of the building and had put a plastic table cloth on it. A few folks had brought various covered dishes and these were helping to hold the tablecloth down from the wind. He’d also brought up a port-a-potty from several dozen yards away and placed it in what he felt was a strategic location, which was right next to a concrete pad, off to the side of the main area, that was about twenty feet by twenty feet.

“That smell,” Graham continued in a quiet voice “is from a big bucket of shrimp that had been sitting there for a VERY long time. They were using it to feed fish in their pond.” Apparently, that morning, the owner of the property had decided to pour out that bucket of shrimp right on the grass next to our little reception area/driveway. Directly next to what we had figured would be the dance floor and DJ area. Now it all made sense. The smell that was overpowering not only smoke from a grill and fresh cow patties, was the acrid odor of shrimp bits that had been sitting out for who knows how long, festering in the mild heat of a May day. For Christ’ sake, the portable toilet smelled like a flower compared to the stench of rotten shrimp bits. Also that morning, the grooms-to-be had tried to use some chemicals to get rid of the smell and this angered the owner of the bait shop. He had retaliated by locking the doors to the “barn”. Not a big deal, except that all of the tables and chairs that were supposed to be used that evening were in there.

So there we were, Graham and I, amongst people we had never met, considering what to do next. I surveyed the situation and made a decision. The grill was going. The lone table was set up. The dance floor was cleared of debris. The latrine was ready to go. The stench of rotten shrimp bits was in the air. People were showing up. The grooms-to-be, who were there for a brief period, had left to get ready. And since the girls’ mother, who was in charge of this entire shin-dig, was no where to be found, there was nothing left for us to do.

“Our work here is done,” I said. And Graham and I went back to Tabatha’s house.

A few minutes later we were back at Tabatha’s to give our report. The girls were in last minute mode and we couldn’t really bother them with all of the details. Tabatha was on her way to the “barn” and RJ and Jeremy were getting dressed. Ranae, the girls mom, was still no where to be found. “We need to get down there,” Shonda said. Graham went back to change and I started to round up the kids.

A short while later we were back at the bait shop. The number of cars and people had tripled since Graham and I had left and it looked like folks were taking it upon themselves to finish setting things up. There were more tables set up by the first one and the buffet of food was growing larger. People were also bringing their own chairs and other items on which to sit. We all started up the long paved driveway and the girls went up to the little room above the shop, to make last minute adjustments and wait for Charissa, who was on her way. The DJ had shown up and was getting ready to set up his equipment. The preacher was there, going over the last minute details of his service. Our children had spotted group of other kids playing in a nearby field, and went over to join them. The ladies were heading to the outdoor staircase and up into the second story of the bait shop to finish getting ready. Graham and I had suddenly found ourselves with nothing to do.

We spent the next hour or so watching over the kids and I made a few trips to my car to grab Graham and I a few “appetizers”. I saw a few others were already enjoying some Anheuser-Busch products so I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I mean, after all, we were at a wedding. Unfortunately, this Catholic boy had forgotten that he was right in the middle of Southern Baptist country. In retrospect, we probably should have waited.