Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [16]
“What’d you say your name was again?”
Brady told him.
“Your last name’s an anagram of your first. How quaint. Was that on purpose?”
“I don’t even know what that means, so I doubt it.”
“You must audition today, Brady. Tell me you will.”
“If you think I should. Like I said, I got no experience.”
The teacher tossed him a script. “Speed-read. Everyone else knows what they want to try out for. And as I said, the role of Birdie is set.”
Oldenburg
Thomas Carey found himself relieved that Paul Pierce had not joined the swarm from the church that was busy transforming the parsonage from a hovel to a cottage. He was twenty-sixth-mile exhausted, and Grace looked the same, but it had to warm her heart as it did his to have so many people determined to make them feel welcome and comfortable.
The Jonah sermon had seemed to go over well, and the crowd was the biggest in a long time, according to Paul. People were already taking turns committing the Careys to meal invitations. Grace said, “Thomas, I may not have to cook for weeks.”
Paul finally showed up late in the afternoon, dressed in a suit.
“I thought you were retired,” Thomas teased.
“And I thought you’d be ready,” Paul said.
“For . . . ?”
“The ride to Colfax. You’ve got just enough time to jump in the shower.”
“We’re meeting them tonight?”
“They’re having church tonight, Tom. And don’t worry, Jonah will suit ’em just fine, though you might want to shorten it a tick. We’ll meet with their board after the service.”
“Paul, I wasn’t even aware—”
“Come on, Pastor. You put me in charge of overseeing all these churches; you got to know I’m on the job.”
Thomas stole a glance at Grace. “Why, I haven’t even eaten, and I’m bushed.”
“We’ll grab something on the way,” Paul said. “And your wife ought to be there too.”
Little Theater
“I’ve got to run, Brady,” Mr. Nabertowitz said, looking at his watch, “but here’s how this works: Everybody who wants to audition sits in the house, and I talk about the play—in this case, the musical—from the stage. Then we switch places. I sit in the middle of the house, and everyone gathers backstage and picks a number. They audition in that order. Got it?”
“I don’t even know what to try out for.”
“Well, read fast. Look at the part of the father, like I said.”
“I need more time. Is today the only day?”
“Today and tomorrow, but there might not be much left by then.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
7
Colfax
There was no getting around it. The tiny flock of the faithful that met in the rec room of one of the parishioners’ homes seemed more than pleased to welcome the new circuit pastor and his wife, but the iciness between many of them and the Pierces chilled the room, not to mention the service.
Thomas didn’t want to probe that history. He also decided that using the little music stand for a pulpit or even standing to preach seemed too much in the small space before so few people. So he remained seated and joined heartily in the singing; then he and Grace answered a few questions about themselves before he launched into Jonah going down to Joppa.
Someone called out, “I hope you don’t see Colfax as Joppa!”
Thomas laughed. “Anything but,” he said. “I’ve heard so much about you all. You know, the Lord’s not interested in numbers. He’s interested in souls.”
“But the more the merrier,” Paul said.
Thomas endured the awkward silence before continuing.
Addison
“Thought you got cut, Darby,” someone said on the activities bus.
“You thought wrong. I quit.”
“So now you’re in the chess club?”
The laughter made Brady flush. “You lookin’ to get hurt?”
That stopped the chuckling. The smart mouth, who would abandon the bus as soon as he was old enough to drive whatever car his parents gave him for his sixteenth birthday, held up both hands. “Relax, big boy. Just teasing.”
Brady turned and stared out the window, trying to shut out the whispers. At times like this an ache washed over him for something new, something different, something better. Everybody else sat with a buddy or a cluster