"But, Mr. Christian, 'steer clear of the Sirens, and their enchanting song.'"

  I turned and looked at him.

  "It's from The Odyssey," he said.

  "I know. It's just—"

  He smacked his lips. "Caught you by surprise. And just think, you haven't even been here a full day, but I'm being serious with you. There's a reason she's single, Litonya's a wild one," he warned.

  I cocked my head, "Well, what if I like wild women?"

  Franklin burst into laughter. Many people turned their heads. But not out of shock or disgust, they seemed amused by Franklin. His laugh was so hearty I laughed myself. It was the first time I'd laughed in weeks. Once he started coughing, I realized it was something he rarely did. However, I'm not sure what it says about me since I delivered the punchline.

  "Oh, Matt, you’re a funny one," he said as he gained his composure.

  I looked out the window again but Litonya and her son were gone.

  Franklin patted his belly in delight, but my stomach was like a balloon being played with by a mischievous child.

  Franklin waved to Petunia. "Sweetheart, put his on my tab."

  She winked and called from behind the counter, "Sure thing, Frank. You two have a good day. Nice to meet you, Matt."

  I smiled at her as Franklin and I exited. I stretched my back as I held my stomach. "I'm ready for a nap."

  "No, young man, you are ready for your big reveal. You didn't get anything on your clothes, did you?"

  Looking over my shirt and tie I stated, "No, I don't think so."

  "All right, I'll let you go. Good luck. Church starts at eleven sharp. Afterward, I'll meet you outside the main doors."

  I tilted my head. "Aren't you going to church?"

  He frowned. "Matt, the Almighty and me don't get along so well."

  "Should I ask why? Or is that being too bold?"

  He frowned and gave a slight nod. "A bit too bold."

  Even though I felt like I just had my hand slapped, I admired his honesty. "Ya sure you don't wanna come?"

  "Nah, I'm going to have another cup of coffee."

  Petunia came outside. "Frank, we’re going to close up and head to church. You comin' back inside?"

  "Yes, thank you." He turned to me and said, "Good luck," and returned to the diner.

  Petunia held the door for him, then walked out onto the street. She shot me a smirk. "Is he throwing you to the wolves?"

  "Oh brother, I hope not."

  She laughed. "Which church are you going to, Matt?"

  "Baptist."

  She frowned. "Baptist? Ekk."

  "You’re making me nervous." I shook it off with a smile. "What about you?"

  "I'm a good Catholic girl. Best of luck. But you better hurry, it's ten fifty-five. Middwood is all about being on time."

  15

  Jesus only knows why a town so small needed three churches. I thought all their prayers were supposed to be going to the same place? Though I knew religion wasn't simple enough to sum up into one building, it was something I thought about when I was high.

  It was only three blocks back up the hill, but I was wearing down fast from the incline, or perhaps it was the weight of dread. I wanted to go home. I'd already eaten with Franklin, and he had exhausted me with all the town's crazy nonsense.

  If I were lucky, I'd be able to slip in unnoticed and find a seat in the back row.

  I hurried and merged into a short line of people filing into the church. I made my way up the steps. A tall, hefty, black-haired man exited the gray double doors and greeted the line.

  I sighed, so much for an undetected entry.

  The man bellowed, "Good morning, brother. How are you?"

  My shoulders hunched from the weight of his presence. "I'm doing well. Thanks."

  He threw out his arm and took my hand. "Are ya strong in the Lord?" he asked with his full, deep voice.

  His question caught me off guard, but then he clamped down into our handshake. "Um, yes, sir," I winced. "I'm trying to be."

  "Are you new to the area, son?"

  "Yes, sir. I'm the new schoolteacher."

  "Boy, I know who you are," he laughed. "I was just playin' with you. I'm Pastor Jimmy Gresham. Franklin filled me in on the game plan for today. Well, praise the Lord," he shouted. "What a blessing to have you."

  He was the widest preacher I'd ever seen, and I imagined him playing the defensive line on the team of Jesus. "I'm Matt Christian."

  "Amen! You were born with a holy name. Welcome, and I have to say I love the tie." He finally released his grasp.

  "Thank you," I said as I cradled my hand.

  The sanctuary was directly across from the outside doors separated by a simple, narrow foyer. The hardwood floors vibrated with excitement. With the inner doors open, conversation and laughter blared out.

  It was too loud.

  I turned around, but the preacher was blocking the door, so I couldn't sneak out. I looked to the right and read a sign labeled Balcony. The upper level would be the perfect hiding place, but a group of teenagers had entered behind me and headed up the stairs amidst hushed giggles. An older couple in their mid-fifties also climbed the stairs. The man carried a sobbing little blonde girl around three years old. Her snotty nose dripped onto his worn overalls. It was enough for me to search for courage to face the full brunt of the church. I just needed to find a seat and get this over with.

  Franklin was right, everyone went to church on Sunday. The service hadn't started, so people were squeezing past one another to hug or shake hands. An aisle ran down the center of the church dividing the space into right and left seating with about eight pews on each side. Thinner folks were able to maneuver along the side walls where the stained glass windows met the end of the benches.

  My head swam. It was so cramped. I pulled at my tie.

  A man marched up to me. I swallowed my anxiety, took a breath, and braced myself for the encounter. I was always terrible at this sort of thing.

  He was a tall and slender built older man, maybe in his late forties. The oddest thing about him was the size of his mouth, it made him look like a fish. He moved closer and smiled, and I tried not to stare at his jaw full of frightful teeth. He shot out his hand. "Praise the Lord. Are you blessed?" he asked, slurring his words enough to catch my attention. Surely, Skinny Mouth Man wouldn't break my fingers, he wasn't anywhere near as big as Pastor Gresham.

  "Yes, sir, I am." I smiled, growing less intimidated.

  "Nice to meet you again."

  He clamped down his grip, but I held my smile. Whoever he was, he was strong. My hand had only been shaken twice, but it was already throbbing. Coal mining men had firm hands, but Big Teeth must have been on something because we had never met before.

  He continued, "How's the new schoolteacher doing?"

  He must have seen the question on my face because he turned his head and narrowed his eyes at me. "Can you hear me? I know it's hard to hear with all the squawking going on."

  I spoke up, "Yes, I can hear you."

  He pointed to himself, "Do you remember me? I helped you with your boxes yesterday. Anne Frank?"

  "Oh, that was you? Thank you, I appreciated that. I couldn't see your face."

  "No problem. Now that you've seen it, you will never forget it." I nodded dumbly in agreement. The man had some teeth. "We are so happy to have you in the house of God with us. I'm Bill Self; I run the new pharmacy."

  My ears perked. A lustful grin grew on my face and the angels sang hallelujah. I wanted him to be my new best friend. "Thank you. I'm happy to be here. A new pharmacy, isn't that exciting?"

  "Well, it's more than ten years old, but it's still new to everyone here. Had to open one when the one in the big store closed. If you need anything at all, you just come on by."

  "Actually, I do need something." I stopped myself. I couldn't start the conversation in church, so I changed my question. "Where’s a good place to sit?"

  "You can sit anywhere you like, Matt. Anywhere at all. I like that tie. It's sharp." He walked away moving on to the next person.

  He was the second person to point out my tie. Other than the men walking around shaking everyone's hand, I was easily overdressed. Since when did the Baptists not require a shirt and tie to get into Heaven?

  I settled on a thin, pea-green-cushioned pew hoping no one would sit near me.

  An older couple stood over me, hovering.

  "Good morning," I said craning away from them.

  "You're in our seat," barked the older man.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "He said, you're in our seat," growled the older woman.

  I got up. "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm new here."

  I was halfway up when they hurried to claim their seats, shoving me out of the way. As rude as they were, they might be kin to Franklin. Come to think of it, Franklin never mentioned his family. But then again, I hadn't asked.

  I slid past a man to an open pew three rows along. I was almost in the middle of the church.

  I made sure to ask the couple behind me if it was anyone's usual seat. They were in their early thirty's. The lady's small mouth closed up as her eyes hardened into a frightful stare. "What's it to ya?"

  "Because... I need a place to sit," I said.

  The man put his hand on his wife's arm. I could tell by his worn face he was a worker, and he was approachable and polite. "No, no one sits there anymore. Welcome to our church. I'm Chris Williams, and this is my wife, Wendy."

  I nodded and gave a grateful grin. "Thank you. It's nice to meet you." I sat down on the springy pew.

  Wendy pressed, "Honey, he really shouldn't sit there."

  I half rose, paused, then stood. "I'll just find somewhere else."

  I thought about waiting in the back until the sermon started to see what seats were still open.

  The man reached out to me. "No. It's fine. It's just... Someone used to sit there, but they passed away."

  "I'm so sorry to hear that. I'll sit somewhere else out of respect."

  "It was thirteen years ago. Those respects have been paid." Chris said and gave the same awkward smile I make when I don't know what else to say.

  "Oh. Thirteen years? I guess I understand. I was told not many new people move into town." I sat down for good. I hoped.

  "Are you new to town? We live way out and have a toddler, so we don't get out much to hear all of the gossip," Chris said.

  "Yes, I'm the new school teacher."

  "Lord have mercy." The woman turned white.

  She seemed to look into my soul. "What is it?" I asked, a wave of guilt and shame coursing through me. Was it possible the Marbert's had family here?

  * * *

  Chris again put his hand on Wendy's arm. "It was the old school teacher who used to sit there."

  16

  I sank into the pew. ”Shit.” I tried waving off my curse. "Oh, I'm sorry for the..." I grabbed my beard. "Are you serious? What are the chances?"

  The woman murmured, "I was just about to say the same thing."

  "And you said she passed?" I asked.

  "Yes," Chris said, "very tragic."

  “Tragic? Was she older?"

  "Lord no, she was just a bit older than you."

  "I haven't been told anything about the previous teacher."

  Wendy sat back in her seat. "Well, it’s a sin to gossip. Lord forgive us."

  They looked at each other. "Do us a favor," said Chris. "Don't tell anyone we told you. It's not something the town, and especially Franklin, likes to talk about."

  "Oh, gosh no. Of course not."

  "Please," Chris insisted.

  The organ began to play, and everyone stood.

  "I give you my word." I turned around in my seat.

  The man who greeted me at the door called out, "Sing the first two verses of ‘Blessed Redeemer.’” I thought he was the preacher, but there was a red-haired man sitting in a chair on the pulpit. Perhaps, Gresham was the music director, I thought.

  The church began to sing. There was no page number given, but I quickly found it in the songbook by looking it up in the table of contents.

  I'd heard the song before many times as a child, but I hadn't sung in a long time, so I hummed quietly. By the end of the second verse, I was catching on.

  Gresham called out, "While Wallace plays the third verse, take time to shake hands with your neighbor."

  The organ played as the congregants started turning to each other and shaking hands. The old couple who'd kicked me out of my original seat shook others' hands with smiles on their faces. If people never moved seats, they must have shook the same hands every Sunday. It seemed pointless.

  I sat still. I looked around, wondering if anyone would greet me. Even in a room full of people, I was all alone. There was a tap on my shoulder. I jumped.

  "Oh, I'm sorry."

  I pivoted in my seat.

  Chris grinned and held out his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you. I don't want you to feel left out."

  I smiled. "I appreciate that." Surprisingly he didn't crush my hand. "I only jumped because I thought you were God sneaking up on me."

  He chuckled.

  "Hey, Chris, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

  "Sure. Shoot."

  “I was going to ask you about the previous—"

  Chris cut me off. "Matt. He's pointing to you."

  "Who?"

  "Pastor Gresham, up on the stage."

  I turned and made eye contact with the husky man. "God snuck up on me," I whispered.

  "There. Now we have his attention," boomed Gresham. "He was wrapped up talking to his students. What a blessing. Everyone, welcome Matt Christian, he is our new schoolteacher. He has moved all the way from Atlanta."

  Every eye in the church was on me. I could feel my face turning red. I didn't know what else to do so I did what Rose-Mary always did. I stood and gave two waves. "Good morning. Good morning." Then I sat.

  "Come on up, Mr. Christian. Tell us a little about yourself."

  My eyes about popped out of my head. Oh, God no. I repent. I repent.

  He smiled and waved me up on stage. "I do believe he is a bit nervous. Let's give him a round of applause."

  The church clapped. Luckily it gave me the confidence I needed to walk up onto the stage.

  I stood there and finally stuttered, "H-hello, everyone, I'm happy to be here at the First Baptist Church of Middwood. Oh, and my name is Matt Christian."

  People in the congregation shouted, "Amen!"

  "No, I mean that's my name, last name, my last name is Christian. Not to say I'm not a Christian, because I am—"

  Gresham put his arm around me and I froze as the man pulled me into him with a side hug. "Okay, Matt, what a blessing it is to have you here. Will you be transferring your letter?"

  "What letter is that?"

  Gresham and the red-haired man chuckled, and so did many of the other members. "I do believe we have stumped the teacher."

  The congregation laughed.

  Gresham held up his hand. "Isn't it nice to have laughter in the house of God? Remember we will start back to school tomorrow and Franklin wanted me to impress on each of you to send your children. Let's keep the spirit flowing with our next hymnal, 417, ‘I Gave My Life for Thee.’ I gave the hymn number for Matt since he seems a bit lost this morning. Please take time after the service to welcome him to our town and keep him in your ongoing prayers. God bless you, brother."

  I stood there for a second, smiling, then walked back to my seat. I wished I could bury myself behind my hymn book. I'm sure my face matched the maroon cover.

  Chris leaned forward and patted me on the shoulder. "You're pretty funny. I think you'll get along great here."

  I didn't turn around, but I nodded. I realized once the sermon was over, other people were going to come talk to me. All I could do was wonder how the hell was I going to survive. Gresham preached on obedience. The red-haired man stayed seated in his chair. Maybe they were both preachers?

  The sermon was over precisely at 11:55 am, which gave five minutes for the benediction—"Because He Lives"—and the altar call. It was strange because, after the song, I noticed a few of the members glanced over at me. I guess my sin was written on my face. Sorry, folks, no altar call for me.

  Church was over precisely at noon, as perfect as God's Holy Plan. That is one thing I can say about the Baptists, they know when it is time to leave.

  I tried to avoid people by staying in my seat. That may sound like a bad idea, but because the rude old couple made me move I was in the middle of the church and both exits were being flooded. I imagined every family was either racing to the Bucket to beat the line or hurrying home to save their pot roast from the slow-cooker. My Rose-Mary Grand always used the food cooking on the counter as an excuse to avoid people she didn't care for after church. I missed her pot roast.

  The older couple who kicked me out of my first seat came up and the man asked, "You're the new teacher, huh?"

  "Yes, sir, I am."

  The elderly man extended his Godly duty. "We haven't met."

  The old woman smacked the man's arm. "We met him earlier, honey. He's the young man who stole our seats."

  "He is?" asked the older man in disgust.

  "Yes," answered the wife.

  "Oh, I thought he looked familiar," he said, then they shambled away.

  I couldn't help but grin and shake my head. Amen.

  I spotted Chris Hall talking to another man. I searched for his wife, but she was across the church with a group of women. I inched toward him, and once he was finished talking, I stepped into his path.

  He smiled. "Matt, I'm glad you came. It's been a long time since we've seen a new face that wasn't a newborn."

  "Yes. It was"—I forced it out—"a blessing."

  "What do you think about the town so far?" Chris asked.

  "I like it. It's exactly what I needed." I smiled.

  "And what was that?"

  "Just some good ol’ peace and quiet."

  "Absolutely," he said, "we have lots of that around here."

  * * *

  “Mind if I finish that question I was going to ask?”

 

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