Chapter 3b: Beginnings

At seven o'clock that Thursday night the Reverend Ethan Chandler passed through the heavy doors of the First Baptist Church. It was one of the angry stone buildings in the center of town. It had a tall steeple that seemed to reach to the heavens. It could be seen from any part of the town and from the farms on the hillsides. The Reverend didn't go into the sanctuary, but turned into a stairway off to the side in the vestibule that led to the basement. There was a conference room there and he went in and turned on the lights.

He was early. He wanted a chance to be by himself, to get his thoughts together before the others on the Church Board arrived. Upstairs he could hear the choir practicing for Sunday Service. They were singing "Rock of Ages", his favorite. He found himself humming along, as usual. He couldn't give it his usual robust effort. Other things weighed heavily on him.

His pondering was interrupted by the first of the Board members to arrive. It was Jarrod Morris. Besides being a Board Member of the Church, he was Mayor of the Village of Bates, and owned the largest insurance agency in town. He was born and bred in the town. He was a natural for the Board membership, except that his political office made him feel a little uneasy that someone might accuse him of a conflict of interest. At the same time, he was good at organizing and business. People weren't lining up for either the Village or Church offices, so he was safe enough. He was a large man, an athlete in his younger days. At the age of forty-five he retained his charismatic good looks. His voice was strong and when he spoke people listened to him.

"Good evening, Ethan," Jarrod hailed the pastor. Although the Reverend was not a native of Bates, the two men had known each other for years. Chandler settled in the town shortly after the First Baptist Church recruited him after his seminary days. The two men were quite different in appearance and outlook, yet were fast friends. They were about the same age. The Reverend was tall, as his friend, but his features were thin and reedy. The bones of his face, set atop a pencil-thin neck, formed cutting edges beneath his thinning blond hair and large ears. He had light-colored, hazel eyes that seemed to blunt any display of emotion. His lips were thin, too, and they poured out plenty of brimstone each Sunday morning.

"The others should arrive soon," Chandler replied. There were three others on the board; Chandler and Morris would drive it. The others would discuss for a time, and then go along. They could be heard noisily clattering down the hallway.

"You would think that after Labor Day the weather would cool off," Mrs. Corbett complained. The corpulent woman was placed on the Board several years ago to keep her interested in running the Bake Sale.

"I remember summers like this," an elderly, bespectacled gentleman replied. "Always leads to hard winters." Howard Jones was a retired Town Clerk. The fifth member said nothing. It was Hazel Ferguson, a Sunday School teacher.

Each of them sat around the conference table, trying to find a comfortable position. They knew that a long meeting was about to begin. The choir continued rehearsing, but the Board members barely heard them.

"We all know why we're here," Jarrod began. "It's because..."

"Ahem!" Ethan interrupted.

"Oh, I'm sorry Reverend. Please get us started," Jarrod excused himself.

Chandler stood and the four others bowed their heads. "For our invocation tonight, let us join together in silent prayer, asking God to grant us wisdom as we deliberate." The Reverend stood silently while the others sat. After half a minute of asking silently for wisdom he uttered "Amen!" and sat down.

Jarrod wasted no time. "Like I was starting to say, we're here tonight to decide how to set our Church finances right."

"We started talking about this last week, but didn't get very far," Howard Jones spoke up. "Where do we stand, anyway?" he asked.

"Not quite making ends meet," Jarrod replied. "Tom Hawkins at the bank is helping us all that he can. He's supposed to put our mortgage into the 'delinquent file' but was able to delay it. He doesn't know how much longer he can do it. If an auditor shows up..."

"I think that we have too much waste," Mrs. Corbett interjected. "We need to cut waste."

"Such as what, Mrs. Corbett?" Jarrod asked patiently.

"Why there are just so many things. The church bulletin, for example, is on two pages and..."

"I don't agree," Jarrod interrupted. "We can try to cut corners. We already are. What we really need is more money in the collection plates."

"We have plenty of members," Ethan added. "The problem is that too many aren't attending Sunday Services. Very few send in their tithe if they aren't at the service. We need to get more people in the Church."

"Where do you think they are, Ethan? Why aren't they coming on Sundays?" Jarrod asked.

"I think a lot of them have one spouse as members of our church and the other spouse belonging to another church. Other denominations allow more leeway in their teachings. I think that there's been some slippage to the Presbyterians," he answered.

"I know why," Hazel Ferguson offered. "A lot of the members are farmers. It's easy to put church aside after you've been up at five in the morning, milking and doing other chores. If they don't feel a real need, they skip a few times, and then soon they skip more times than they come."

Hazel's observations made a lot of sense. The other four nodded in agreement.

"We've got to let people know where we stand financially," Jarrod proclaimed. "We have to get them to give more, even if they can't attend."

"That won't be easy. I won't beg for money from the pulpit," Ethan stated.

"If you don't we'll be breaking up the pulpit for firewood," Jarrod warned. Ethan hung his head.

"I know what brings them in," Howard Jones told them. "Scandal. Remember when the Mayor who preceded Jarrod ran off with the Public Health Nurse? The church was packed. Everyone wanted to let God know that they had nothing to do with it."

"Well, we have no scandal to help us right now," Jarrod quipped.

"There is always scandal," Ethan uttered in a dark, brooding voice. "It usually gets covered up, but it's always there waiting to be found out."

The Reverend's admonishment silenced the assemblage. Jarrod recovered.

"Let's do a letter campaign and personal visits to get the collections up," he said.

The Board stayed until ten, their plan worked out. When they were ready to adjourn they prayed to God to send them money.

Classes were over on Friday afternoon and James was closing out his first week on his new job. Becky Chandler turned in her tutoring form to him after class, as had two other students, so James had three tutoring clients. He was glad for the extra income. It would help him pay off his brother for the car. He hoped to move to a nicer apartment, away from the prying Mrs. Wilkinson, and by nexus, from daughter, Doris.

James sat in the Math Office at his desk, correcting homework papers. He was half-way through the stack and he wasn't encouraged by what he saw. He reluctantly admitted to himself that it would be a struggle to get many of the juniors and seniors through Trigonometry. He would do what he could. He would inform Nathan of the need to lay better groundwork with the freshmen and sophomores if progress on the State Test would ever be realistic. He was all alone in the office. The other Math teachers were long departed, or socializing in the teachers' lounge.

"I knew that I would find you in here," a voice behind him broke his concentration. James spun around in his office chair to find the speaker, Vicki Morgan, standing over him. "I looked in the lounge first. I should have known better."

"Hi!" James greeted her. "I didn't hear you come in."

"I have to be very quiet," Vicki pointed out with a note of sarcasm. "Nathan might see me," she said, reminding James of the flirting session at the Labor Day barbecue.

"I was just correcting some papers," James explained.

"Oh yes, you're the homework man," she said, continuing her sarcastic tone. "Everyone is talking about how you love to give homework. I even hear it in the English Department."

"It's for their own good," James answered defensively.

"It's not from the students that I hear it. Their attention span was spent after the first day," she corrected. "It's from the teachers. They're afraid that they'll have to start giving homework assignments, too."

"And what is the attention span of the teachers?" James asked derisively.

"Unfortunately, a lot longer than the students," Vicki answered.

"The students need repetition to master the principles of..."

"The teachers understand all that. They just don't want the extra workload," Vicki interrupted. "You don't have to defend yourself. It makes no difference to me."

She paused and James did the same. Her answer satisfied him, at least as far as she had the power to do so.

"That's not the reason that I was looking for you," she continued. "I wanted to see if you're going to the football game tonight."

"Hadn't thought about it," James answered.

"Why don't you?" Vicki encouraged. "The game's against Dansville. Afterward, some of the teachers are going to meet at Shorty's for a few drinks. It'll be fun."

"Shorty's?" James asked.

"It's a bar down on the State Road. C'mon—it will help your image."

"Sounds like a good idea," James agreed.

"You'll find a group of us in the stands at the game. It starts at seven. We'll head to Shorty's from there.

James put away his papers. He decided to head to his apartment and grab a shower and a sandwich before the game.

The weather was nice that evening. As the sun started setting it was just cool enough for a light sweater, but not much else. When James arrived at the game he searched for the section in the stands with the teachers. The teams were going through their final warm-ups so he hoped to get into the stands before they played the National Anthem.

"James—over here! Come sit with us." It was a familiar voice, but not Vicki's. He looked around. "James—over here!" He finally saw Abby in the middle of a section. Her friendly demeanor surprised him. After the session at her house on Wednesday night, he was certain that she would never speak to him again. He gave a sudden start when he saw Bubba sitting next to her. His first inclination was to beg off and find Vicki's group. Then he caught sight of Nathan sitting three rows above them. He headed up to where they were sitting. He waved at Nathan who nodded back approvingly.

"Sit right here, James." Abby slid over a little to make room so that she would be between James and her husband.

"Hey, James. Nice to see you!" Bubba cried as he thrust his meaty forearm across his wife's chest to shake hands. "I just got in from Texas; thought that we'd take in the game. The team is supposed to be pretty good this year."

"I told Bubba how you helped me with the washing machine," Abby interjected. The hairs on the back of James' neck stood up. This scene was becoming too complicated for him to figure out.

"Hey, thanks for doing that," Bubba said. "I hope that it didn't take you too far out of your way."

"He wouldn't even take a glass of lemonade in payment!" Abby frowned in mock frustration.

"I don't blame him. You should' a offered him a beer," Bubba laughed.

"I was invited to go to a place named Shorty's for drinks after the game," James said, eager to change the subject.

"Great place!" Bubba assured him. "You'll find it on the State Road, next to the motel with the truck turnaround. The same guy owns both places. A lot of truckers stop there when they're up this way."

James nodded, grateful for the directions.

"They play a lot of Country Music there," Bubba continued. "Hey, Sugar Plum," he turned to Abby, "wanna go down there for a while and take a few turns around the dance floor?"

"Not tonight, Bubba. You just got home. We have ... you know ... other plans," Abby said in a soft, coquette-like voice—at least as soft as she could and still be heard above the cheering of the crowd. Bubba laughed and put her harm around her shoulder. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead, and then returned his attention to the game.

James had been listening to the husband and wife exchange. Abby turned to James and leaned close to him so that she could speak under the crowd noise. "I'll bet that I can get him to have a glass of lemonade with me!" She glanced up at James as she pointed at her husband, straight into his eyes, and passed her tongue over her lips.

At first James tried to force himself to look away, but could not. After a few seconds he did not try, relishing the connection. He burned it into his memory so that he could use it later. As quickly as the episode unfolded, it was over. Abby looked away, withdrawing the contact.

James knew that she thought that she was denying him, but he knew differently. He had captured her look, burned into his brain. She didn't know that he had made love to her in his apartment, laid with her, felt her around him. She could not know, but it was true. It was a fact in another dimension created and controlled by the mind—his mind. It was a space in which anything could happen, where no one would suffer and all could be forgiven, if forgiveness was in order.

At the end of the game everyone was in good spirits. Bates won. Abby and Bubba were going home to lie together. As he drove to Shorty's Bar, James was thinking of them undressing one another. Bubba would lie naked on the bed waiting. Abby, nude, would slowly descend to lie upon him, painting her softness on his large body. She would be warm. She would make him feel stronger—as strong he certainly was. They would kiss. They would..."

Each time James would approach the rest of the act in his mind's eye he would stop, because he didn't know how to continue. It was so frustrating. He had to be missing the finest portion. He had an erection and he was panting. He had to calm down before going inside the bar, and it was just up ahead. He tucked away his inner vision for the moment. By the time he parked the car his raging body had cooled.

There was a three-piece band playing at Shorty's and couples on the dance floor. James stood just inside the front door and surveyed the tables. He saw a group that looked like teachers in the corner. He looked closer and saw Vicki waving to him and yelling something that he couldn't hear over the band. James weaved his way through the crowd to join them.

Vicki introduced James to everyone. He already knew a few of them from Nathan's barbecue. It was a convivial group. There were about eight teachers, each with a spouse, except James and Vicki. A few danced to the Country tunes. James thought that a few of the women glanced at him as if they expected that he would ask them to dance, but James did not, although he considered it. He didn't know how to dance, or to ask a woman to do so. He had a lot to learn, he told himself.

Most of the couples limited themselves to two drinks and the number in the corner slowly dwindled. Finally, only he and Vicki remained. The band was on a break.

"Do you like Country Music, James?" Vicki asked.

"I'll wait until I hear more of it before I decide," James answered tactfully.

"I'll take or leave of it," Vicki said honestly. "It serves the purpose. You can get used to it. It's better than silence."

"What about just sitting down and talking?" James asked.

"That's alright, but it can get old, too. When the conversation runs out you need something to fill the void. If you don't ... that's probably what happened between me and my 'ex'," she mused in a resigned tone, and then snapped back cheerfully. "When the band starts again, I'll teach you to dance."

She saw the doubt in James' eyes. "Don't worry, we'll wait for an easy one." She assured him. She leaned closer, like she did at Nathan's barbecue. "Whatever happens, I won't tell a soul."

The band came out and hooked up their instruments once again. They started playing "Behind Closed Doors", the Charley Rich ballad. "This is a good one!" Vicki exclaimed as she rose and took James' hand and led him to the floor.

"Hold me like this," she instructed.

James held her stiffly. Vicki closed the gap between them and they were swaying to the easy rhythm. James was taller than her by nearly a foot. As they swayed with the music their thighs rubbed together. James felt her breasts. He was getting an erection, which he tried to fight off, but could not help. He was sure that Vicki could feel it, but she didn't say anything about it.

"See, it isn't that difficult," she purred. James didn't answer, but kept swaying and allowing Vicki to press herself against him. He found that he liked it. He enjoyed the feeling and the excitement. It was so convenient. There was no one to see him, report back to Nathan, his landlady, Bubba or anyone else.