The Premiere

Hear the story read by the author.

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. A few months ago, the church served as the location for a short film shoot. The film, “Old, New, Undead, Blue,” was the story of zombies attacking a wedding. It was written and directed by fifteen-year-old Tabitha Dunkleman. Her best friend, Katie O’Donnell, starred as the bride.

Katie’s father, Henry O’Donnell, happened to be senior pastor of the church, which was how they’d gotten permission to film there. Several other congregants were also involved the production, so Pastor O’Donnell offered to hold the movie’s premiere at the church as well. In truth, he was terribly proud of Katie. Though he might not have been so enthusiastic if he’d actually seen the film.

Tabitha had gotten more than just footage out of the shoot. Ben, a boy from school who made the props and did the zombie make-up, had kissed her after they’d wrapped. Tabitha had never had a boyfriend before, and she wasn’t actually sure if that’s what Ben was. She invited him to help her with the editing, hoping to find out.

Katie came over to help as well, but quickly became bored and spent most of the time texting her boyfriend, Alex. When she wasn’t texting Alex she was talking about how great their relationship was. That made Tabitha a little uncomfortable since she was so unsure of her own relationship status with Ben.

The three of them met every night that first week, Tabitha and Ben editing while Katie fiddled with her phone and talked about her boyfriend. But when Katie found out Tabitha intended to create the film’s score on Friday evening, she moaned and said, “I’m supposed to go bowling with Alex.”

“I’m free,” Ben said.

“You’re always free,” Katie snapped. She didn’t particularly like Ben. “Friday night is date night. You know what they say about all work and no play.”

“Go on your date,” Tabitha said. “Ben and I can do the score by ourselves.” Frankly, she was a little relieved not to have Katie around as a distraction.

Katie called Tabitha Saturday afternoon. Tabitha was in the middle of color timing a shot to make the zombies look more bloodless and was only half listening as Katie told her about her date. Then Katie said, “You know Alex is on the school newspaper. He suggested he could write an article about the film and the premiere.”

That got Tabitha’s attention. “That would be awesome! Tell him I’ll email him some thoughts to make his job easier.” Tabitha was not impressed with Alex’s writing skills and didn’t want to leave the content of the article to chance.

“Cool,” Katie said. “Hey, do you need me tonight?”

“Not at all,” Tabitha replied. “You go out and have fun with Alex.”

Despite not having Katie as a distraction, the pace of the postproduction work did not pick up appreciably. Now that Tabitha and Ben were alone every night, the editing sessions often devolved into make-out sessions. Fortunately, Ben had an 11 p.m. curfew, so Tabitha was able to work uninterrupted after that.

When 10:45 came on the Thursday two nights before the premiere, Tabitha gently suggested maybe Ben should stay home the following night. “I’ve still got a ton of things to do before the premiere and I think I’ll work faster alone.”

Ben smiled as he rubbed lip balm on his chapped lips. “Okay. See you Saturday.”

Tabitha turned her attention to mocking up a poster for the movie that featured Katie screaming as mottled grey arms reached out toward her. A little before midnight Tabitha’s phone buzzed. The caller ID indicated it was Katie. Tabitha let it go to voicemail. She just had too much work to do.

The school newspaper came out every Friday morning, and Tabitha rushed to get a copy as soon as she arrived on campus. She went through it three times looking for Alex’s article but couldn’t find it.

Tabitha found Katie at her locker. “Where’s the article?” Tabitha asked.

“I guess Alex decided not to run it,” Katie said.

“What?!” Tabitha exploded. Her lack of sleep had made her more emotional than normal. “The premiere is tomorrow! This was the last chance to get the word out!”

“Oh who cares,” Katie cried. “It’s just a stupid movie.” She slammed the locker door and stormed off.

Tabitha watched her go, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. A stupid movie? Did Katie not understand what this meant to Tabitha? Perhaps it had started as just a fun hobby, but the more Tabitha worked on it, the more she became convinced that she had found her calling. She was going to be a filmmaker. And this was her big debut. If it went badly, her career might be over before it started.

Tabitha spent the rest of the day fuming over Katie’s betrayal. Except for the fifty minutes of social studies class. She slept through that.

Tabitha was still fuming that night. She had intended to spend the evening redoing the sound effect of a zombie bridesmaid munching on a groomsmen’s leg. It didn’t have the level crunchiness that she wanted. But if Katie thought this was only a “stupid movie,” she didn’t deserve to be the center of the poster. So Tabitha mocked up a new one that featured a four-year-old zombie, played by Sierra Smith, grinning happily in a pew.

Pastor O’Donnell spent Saturday afternoon preparing the social hall for the premiere. He’d rented a digital projector and screen and set out a hundred folding chairs. He’d even created a red carpet out of butcher paper.

If Tabitha had feared nobody would show up for the premiere, she had worried needlessly. Movie premieres were a rare event in Normal, even premieres of short films made by teenagers. And Pastor O’Donnell had encouraged the church’s entire congregation to attend. A huge crowd filled the social hall.

Meanwhile, the cast and crew gathered in the church office. Tabitha sat with Ben on one side of the room, while Katie sat on the other side, focused intently on her phone. When Sierra came in, she immediately ran to Tabitha. “My mommy got a reporter from the newspaper to come,” the four-year-old said excitedly.

“The real newspaper?” Tabitha asked.

“The Normal Chronicle,” Sierra’s father replied. “We’re friends with the movie reviewer.”

“Wow, thanks so much!” Tabitha said. Then added loudly, “It’s nice to have such great support from the cast.” She glanced toward Katie who was texting and gave no sign of having heard.

Pastor O’Donnell stuck his head in. “It’s time.”

The cast and crew walked the makeshift red carpet one at a time to revel in the applause and camera flashes from friends and family. Sierra sent the photographers into a frenzy of delight when she did her zombie face. Finally only Katie and Tabitha were left in the office. They eyed each other with malevolent expectation.

“Go ahead,” Tabitha snapped. “People are waiting.”

“I’m the star,” Katie said. “I should go last.”

“It’s my film,” Tabitha replied. “I’m going last.”

“Fine.” Katie stomped out. Tabitha was startled to see Katie swipe a tear from her eye as she left. Suddenly Tabitha regretted giving Katie such a hard time. After all, her father had done a magnificent job with the premiere.

A huge cheer went up when Tabitha made her entrance. She tried to look dignified and serious, but her mouth insisted on curling into a silly grin. She’d never had a crowd cheer for her before.

The pastor had reserved the front row for the cast and crew. Ben was saving Tabitha a seat in the center. Katie sat on the end by herself. And that was when it occurred to Tabitha that Alex wasn’t present. “Did Alex sit in back?” Tabitha whispered to Ben as she took her seat.

“Katie didn’t tell you?” Ben asked. “It’s been all over school. He dumped her.”

Tabitha was so stunned she simply stared at Ben, speechless. And then the lights went down.

The audience’s mood was boisterous. There were cheers for every name in the opening credits. Laughter of recognition broke out at the sight of the church. And when the first zombie lurched out of a doorway to bite an unsuspecting bridesmaid in the neck, the audience screamed. Tabitha’s grin returned.

As more victims met their fate, however, the audience grew quiet, though the sight of Sierra as the zombie ring bearer chewing on a severed arm did elicit a loud gasp. When the end credits rolled, the audience sat in silence. “They hated it,” Tabitha whispered to Ben as the lights came up.

“They couldn’t have,” Ben said. “It was awesome.”

Pastor O’Donnell stepped to the front of the social hall. He looked pale and nervous. “I’d like to introduce you to the filmmaker behind this, um, film. Tabitha Dunkleman.”

Tabitha swallowed hard, forced herself to smile, and went to the front of the room. As she took the microphone from the pastor, Katie let out a whoop and began clapping enthusiastically. After a moment’s pause, the other cast and crew joined in, and soon the whole room was applauding.

“Thank you,” Tabitha said. “And thanks to Pastor O’Donnell for letting us shoot in the church and for organizing this awesome premiere. I need to thank my cast and crew who worked very hard and did an awesome job. But most of all, I have to thank my star and best friend, Katie. I would not be up here if it weren’t for her. Come up here, Katie.”

Katie stepped shyly forward. Tabitha pulled her to the front of the room and gave her a big hug. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch,” Tabitha whispered as Pastor O’Donnell snapped photos.

“That’s okay,” Katie replied. “You were just being a director.”

The next day Tabitha was up before dawn, waiting anxiously for the paperboy. When the Normal Chronicle finally landed in their driveway, she quickly found the article on page twelve titled, “Local Teen Makes Zombie Film.” Her worst fears were realized. The reviewer clearly hadn’t liked the film, calling it, “disturbing in its heartlessness.” She did say Tabitha showed amazing technical skill for a teenager, but expressed hope that she would apply that skill to more human stories as she got older.

Katie called Tabitha a short time later. “I saw the article,” Katie said. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all right,” Tabitha replied. “I guess I’m not cut out to be a filmmaker after all.”

“Ah, what do they know? It’s just some cheesy small town paper.”

“Hey, do you want to get some brunch?” Tabitha asked.

An hour later, Katie and Tabitha were devouring eggs and sausage at the diner, and Katie was telling Tabitha all about her breakup with Alex. The film didn’t come up once.

But when Tabitha got home, she found an email from a horror film festival in Pittsburgh. They had seen the article and thought “Old, New, Undead, Blue” sounded like just the kind of edgy material they were looking for. They invited her to submit and even waived the entry fee. Tabitha quickly made a DVD to send, using the original poster of Katie for the box cover.

Ultimately the film got accepted and was runner up for “Best Short Featuring Undead Characters.” But by then Tabitha had already started planning her next film: the story of cannibals who invade a newspaper office.

Church of the Living Dead

Hear the story read by the author.

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Recently, fifteen-year-old Tabitha Dunkleman found herself sitting in Pastor O’Donnell’s office anxiously awaiting a decision on a request she had made. She was with her best friend Katie who also happened to be the pastor’s daughter. Tabitha hoped that would make a difference. If the pastor didn’t let her shoot in the church, there was no way she could make her short film.

Tabitha had only recently decided she wanted to be a movie director. And the kinds of movies she wanted to make were horror movies. She’d written a short script about zombies attacking a wedding called “Old, New, Undead, Blue.” She’d asked Katie to star in it because Katie was her best friend. The fact that her father also happened to have access to a church was a bonus. Now they just needed him to say yes.

“When did you want to do this?” O’Donnell asked.

“A week from Friday,” Tabitha said.

The pastor checked the church calendar. “Well, there’s nothing scheduled for that Friday, but the Humpleman wedding is in the sanctuary on Saturday, so you’ll have to make sure you leave everything the way you found it.”

Tabitha grinned and swore they’d be extra careful.

With their location secured, Tabitha spent the next ten days meticulously planning her shoot. On the designated Friday, the cast and crew gathered at the church after school. Tabitha had recruited a quiet boy named Ben from her art class to do the zombie make-up and effects. Tabitha knew that Katie thought Ben was creepy – he always wore black and drew bizarre pictures all over his notebooks. But creepy was just what Tabitha needed for her movie.

Ben had been at work all week creating a crucial prop for the film – a severed arm. When he unveiled it to Katie and Tabitha they both took an involuntary step back in disgust. “That’s not real, is it?” Katie asked.

Ben laughed. “Of course not. It’s made of latex and gel. I found a video online that showed how to create realistic body part props.”

Tabitha smiled. “This movie is going to be awesome.”

Ben began doing make-up on the actors who were to play zombies while the crew set up the camera and equipment. The crew consisted of two people – Tabitha and cinematographer Becky Goodhart, a twelve-year-old member of the church whose primary qualification was that her parents owned a top-of-the-line digital video camera.

It took longer than Tabitha anticipated to set up the gear, but they still finished before the make-up was done. Tabitha checked her watch nervously. She called Ben aside to ask what was taking so long. “It’s the little girl you got to play the ring bearer,” he told her. “Her dad’s made me redo her make-up three times.”

Tabitha had cast Sierra Smith, a five-year-old girl from the church, to play the part of a zombie ring bearer. Her father, Arthur, was certain Sierra would be a movie star some day. Either that or President.

At first, Ben had just dusted Sierra with powder to make her pale and smeared dark eye shadow under her eyes. But Arthur noticed how much gorier the other zombies were, and insisted Ben make Sierra similarly gruesome. So Ben added gaping wounds on her cheeks and forehead. But when Arthur saw this, he worried that when Hollywood agents saw the film, as he was sure they would, they wouldn’t be able to tell how cute Sierra was. So Ben tried to split the difference, but the result was neither horrific enough nor cute enough to satisfy Arthur.

“None of my books explain how to do make-up that’s both horrifying and cute,” Ben confided to Tabitha.

While Ben reworked Sierra’s make-up for a fourth time, Tabitha decided to shoot some of the scenes with the non-zombie characters. Katie was starring as the bride. She had convinced her boyfriend, Alex, to play the groom. The idea of dressing up in a wedding dress and marrying Alex in the church thrilled Katie, even if it was just pretend.

They began with a scene where the groom professes his love for the bride as the zombies close in. Katie was terrific, but Alex couldn’t seem to remember his lines. Or rather he remembered them, but never in the proper order. After fourteen takes, Tabitha suggested the two take a break so Alex could study his script some more. They were now two and a half hours behind schedule and hadn’t gotten a single shot. Tabitha was starting to worry that she wouldn’t even finish the film.

Tabitha went to check on the status of Sierra’s make-up. She was pleased to discover that Arthur had finally approved a look – basically the same pale, hollow eyed effect Ben had started with. They set up for the shot of the zombie ring bearer chowing down on the fake arm. Unfortunately, when Sierra saw the arm, she began to cry. It took half an hour to convince her it wasn’t real, and another half-hour to get her to pretend to bite it.

When they finally did get Sierra to chew on the arm, it was delightfully disturbing. Tabitha’s confidence returned in a flood – only to abandon her just as quickly when they tried a shot of Sierra shuffling up the aisle. Sierra did a very convincing undead shuffle, but could only go two steps before breaking into a giggle. Tabitha did her best to demonstrate a proper zombie moan, but it only made Sierra laugh more.

Tabitha decided to give Sierra a break and return to the bride and groom scene. She found Alex running lines with Ben. “How’s it going?” she asked.

“Great,” Alex replied. “Ben’s going to be the groom. He’s a much better actor than I am.”

Tabitha looked at her watch. She was almost four hours behind schedule. “Fine,” she said.

“So you’ll tell Katie, right?” Alex said.

“Why me?” Tabitha asked.

“You’re the director.”

Tabitha went to break the news to Katie. Her star was not pleased. “Ben’s a nerd!” Katie hissed. “Nobody will believe I’d marry someone like that.”

“They will because you’re such a great actress,” Tabitha replied. She was a natural at dealing with actors.

It took quite a bit more buttering up, but finally Katie agreed to do the scene with Ben. They got into position and Tabitha called, “Action.” At first it didn’t go very well. Ben was indeed a fine actor, but when he took Katie’s hand, she wrinkled her nose as though he were already undead. And when he went to kiss her, the rest of Katie’s face scrunched up just like her nose.

But then something happened. As the kiss lingered, Katie relaxed into it. When she and Ben separated, Katie stared at him slack jawed.

“Cut!” Tabitha yelled. “Katie, that’s your line.”

“Sorry,” Katie mumbled.

“From the top,” Tabitha ordered. “Action.”

This time, the romantic tension was electric. Tabitha got so caught up in the scene, she forgot to call cut until Becky nudged her. “That was amazing!” Tabitha shouted. “I bet we win awards for this film.”

When Ben went to put on zombie make-up for his next scene, Katie pulled Tabitha aside. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought,” she whispered. “Don’t tell Alex, but Ben is an excellent kisser. Alex is kind of… slobbery.”

Tabitha went to see if Sierra had gotten over her giggles. She found the little girl curled up on one of the pews asleep, using the fake severed arm as a pillow. “It’s an hour past her bedtime,” Arthur said apologetically.

“I guess we can cut that shot out of the movie,” Tabitha said with a sigh. Just when things were going so well.

Arthur apologized again and gently shook Sierra. “Time to go home, honey.”

Sierra climbed to her feet and staggered out into the aisle, her eyes glassy and half-closed and her mouth hanging open loosely. She looked just like the walking dead. “Start rolling,” Tabitha hissed to Becky. They got the shot.

It was now 11:00 p.m. and there were still several scenes left to shoot. Becky’s mom had come to pick her up, but Tabitha convinced her to let Becky stay a while longer by offering her the hastily added part of the bride’s mother.

They were setting up for the last scene, the tragic revelation that the groom had become a zombie, when Becky’s mom finally ran out of patience. She insisted Becky come home, but did agree to let the camera stay behind. Alex took over as cinematographer.

At 3:00 a.m. Tabitha finally sighed, “That’s a wrap.” Only she, Katie, Alex, and Ben were left to clean up. Tabitha was so exhausted she no longer cared whether the film was any good, she was just happy to be finished. Ben, however, was still full of energy. As Tabitha was making a final sweep of the sanctuary picking up props, he jumped out at her from between the pews, still in his zombie make-up, growling.

Tabitha was too tired to be startled, so she just chuckled.

“Is that how you react when the undead tries to bite you,” Ben said, pretending to pout.

“Better be careful,” Tabitha replied. “I might just bite back.” And then she kissed him.

A second later she pulled away, her face flushing. “I don’t know why I did that,” she stammered. “I guess… Katie told me you were a good kisser.”

“Do you agree?” Ben asked. Tabitha felt herself blush even deeper but couldn’t muster an answer. “Well, I think you’re a pretty good kisser,” Ben said with a smile and kissed her again.

“A-hem!” It was Katie. She was looking at them in utter shock.

Tabitha wiped Ben’s monster make-up from around her mouth. “We were just—”

“I saw what you were just,” Katie said. “Come on, I have to lock up and I’m tired.”

The filmmakers headed home for some well-earned sleep.

The next day Pastor O’Donnell was presiding over the Humpleman wedding when in the middle of his musings about the nature of commitment, someone let out a blood-curdling scream. It seemed the bride’s aunt had discovered the fake severed arm that had been forgotten under one of the pews.

Happy Halloween!

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The Car Wash

Hear the story read by the author.

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Recently, Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell invited a visiting African aid worker to speak at a potluck mission luncheon about her work with refugees in Uganda.

Pastor O’Donnell sat with his fifteen-year-old daughter Katie. As the presentation started, Katie felt a special kinship with the Ugandan victims of political oppression. After all, she was being forced to attend this snoozefest against her will. She would much rather have been at the movies or shopping or even doing homework. But her dictator of a father insisted she be subjected to the torture of tuna casserole, ambrosia salad, and a depressing slide show.

The tuna casserole and ambrosia salad were as tortuous as Katie expected, and the slide show was indeed depressing. But as the speaker told the stories of several African kids living in a refugee camp, Katie’s resentful attitude began to change. Halfway through the presentation, Katie felt silly for comparing her hardships to those of the unfortunate Ugandans. Though she doubted even they would’ve wanted the tuna casserole.

As the lights came up, Henry noticed Katie wiping at the corners of her eyes. “Are you crying?” he asked.

“Weeping with boredom,” Katie mumbled. She was not about to admit to her father how touched she was by the plight of those heroic kids. It would set a bad precedent for future mission luncheons.

The presentation was still gnawing at Katie’s mind during the youth group meeting that evening. The group’s leader, Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum, noticed how quiet Katie was. After the closing prayer, Michelle asked her if anything was wrong.

“I think we should do something to help the poor refugees in Uganda,” she said.

“What did you have in mind?”

“And don’t tell us you want to go to Africa,” interjected Tabitha Dunkleman, Katie’s best friend. “It’s way too hot there. I don’t like to sweat.”

Twelve-year-old Becky Goodheart rolled her eyes. “Yeah, that’s why we won’t be going to Africa.”

“I think we should have a car wash,” Katie answered, ignoring the other girls. “We can donate the proceeds to that woman’s organization.”

“What a compassionate proposal,” Michelle said. “I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“Well, we have so much. When we get a chance to help others, we ought to seize the opportunity.”

With that Katie and the rest of the group headed home, leaving Michelle to clean up.

They planned the car wash for a Saturday morning. Katie, Tabitha, Becky, and Katie’s boyfriend Joe showed up bright and early, ready to work. Michelle suggested they make signs to attract passing cars.

Katie labored over her sign, determined not to let the Ugandan kids down. She outlined every multi-colored letter in glue and glitter. She also drew a picture of Africa. Or at least she tried – Katie was no cartographer. The shape resembled a bunch of bananas more than a continent. Katie put so much care into the manufacture of her sign that by the time she was finished, the others had already lured in three customers and were hard at work washing.

It was a warm day and Katie wanted to get a little sun, so she stripped off her shorts and T-shirt to reveal the bikini she’d worn underneath. She stood at the edge of the driveway, jumping up and down with her super-cute sign and shouting at passing motorists.

It proved quite effective. Soon a line of cars was waiting for a wash. However, Katie’s enthusiastic dancing and scanty attire was also distracting poor Joe. It got so bad that at one point he accidentally hosed off Tabitha instead of the car he was washing. Tabitha expressed her displeasure with considerable vehemence. Joe could only stammer, “It was an accident.”

Tabitha released the poor hormonal boy from her verbal tirade and stomped over to Katie. “Maybe you should take a turn washing and let me hold the sign for a while,” Tabitha suggested.

Katie looked her friend up and down. Tabitha’s old jeans and T-shirt were dripping wet and stained with grime, and her hair hung in tangled strands around her face. “Listen,” Katie said as gently as she could, “you’re kind of all messy and gross. I don’t know if that image is going to appeal to potential customers. Remember, this is about the Ugandan kids, not us.”

Tabitha considered having her own “accident” with the hose, but she didn’t think it would reach all the way to the edge of the driveway.

About then, Pastor O’Donnell pulled in. He took one look at Katie and ordered her to put her T-shirt and shorts back on. “I won’t have my daughter jumping around on a street corner in her bikini,” he bellowed.

Katie sighed and rolled her eyes and mumbled something about “old prude” under her breath as she dressed. But O’Donnell was used to that kind of behavior from his daughter and barely noticed.

Instead, he surveyed the church parking lot in amazement. “Wow, this place is packed. I’m really proud of you, Katie. You too, Tabitha. So, which one of you is going to wash my car?”

“You have to wait in line, Dad,” Katie told him.

O’Donnell’s smile faltered slightly. He hadn’t counted on a line. He was supposed to play golf with the imam from the local mosque in an hour. But he wanted to support Katie’s newfound altruistic streak.

As he pulled into the line of cars, Katie nudged Tabitha. “You better get back to washing. People are going to get impatient and might leave. Remember the Ugandan kids.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Tabitha said, giving her a big, wet hug. Then she returned to washing.

It was a good thing, because neither Becky nor Joe were making much progress. Joe had been working on Henrietta Miggins’ big old Ford for an hour. Every time he thought he was done, Henrietta would point out several spots she claimed he’d missed, though Joe couldn’t detect any dirt where she indicated. And Becky was taking a break after getting lightheaded while cleaning interior windows. She had perhaps been a little too overzealous with the ammonia-based cleaning spray in the enclosed space of the cars. But Tabitha was an efficient washing machine. She could scrub the average car bumper to bumper in under ten minutes. At ten dollars a car, she was raking in a bunch of money for the cause.

Thirty-seven minutes after Pastor O’Donnell arrived, Tabitha finally got to his car. He watched her work, trying not to look impatient. As soon as she was done, he handed her ten dollars and hopped behind the wheel. “You might want to let that dry,” Tabitha suggested.

“No time,” O’Donnell replied. He hit the gas. As the car pulled away, it splashed through a puddle, spraying Henrietta’s car with mud. Joe sighed. Henrietta had finally declared him finished moments before. He went to get a new rag.

As O’Donnell sped down the street, he passed a man on a riding mower trimming a school lawn. It was windy, and a cloud of grass clippings wafted away from the mower and across the street. The pastor was unable to avoid driving straight through it. Hundreds of little green blades stuck to the wet car.

O’Donnell circled the block and pulled back into the car wash. “You were right,” He told Tabitha, “I should’ve let it dry. Can you hose it off again?”

“Sure,” she said. She got the hose and sprayed the car clean. “That’ll be ten bucks.” The pastor opened his mouth to protest that a simple hose down wasn’t worth full price, but before he could speak, Tabitha added, “You know, for the Ugandan kids.”

The pastor forced a smile as he dug out his wallet.

Two hours later they closed the car wash. Tabitha, Joe and Becky cleaned up the buckets and rags while Katie helped Michelle count the money. They were just finishing up when Pastor O’Donnell pulled back in, his car covered in dust. As he got out, an exhausted Tabitha looked at him with one eyebrow raised. “Can you wash it one more time?” he asked. “They were doing construction by the golf course.” He held up a ten dollar bill. “Please?”

Tabitha sighed and refilled her bucket with soapy water.

She was about done when Katie called, “Hurry up, Tabitha! We want to take a group picture.”

Tabitha clenched her teeth and wiped down the pastor’s car with exaggerated care. Katie fixed her with an impatient stare, but that only made Tabitha move slower. Finally she strolled over to join the others.

“About time,” Katie snapped. “How’s my hair?”

Tabitha studied Katie through the wild, muddy strands of her own bangs. “Perfect. Nobody would ever know you spent the whole day working at a car wash.”

“Good,” Katie said. “Boy, I’m beat. It’s hard jumping around with a sign and smiling for so long.”

As they were getting in position for the photo, Tabitha asked Pastor Michelle how much money they’d raised. “Three hundred and twenty dollars,” she replied. “I’m very proud of you kids.”

Katie beamed. “It’s so rewarding to do something good for the world, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Tabitha admitted. She realized that she was in a surprisingly happy mood despite her sore muscles and drenched, dirty clothes.

But it didn’t stop her from holding up her fingers like rabbit ears behind Katie’s head when Pastor Michelle snapped the photo.

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I've published a new Little Church Stories book!  It's called L.O.L.: Little Old Ladies and collects eighteen stories from the blog about Henrietta Miggins, Ceila Simmons and Betsy Davis.  You can order it in hard copy or as an e-book at Lulu.com.

The Sweetheart Dance - Part II

Hear the story read by the author.

(This is part two of two.  To read part I click here or scroll down)

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  This year the church decided to have a Valentine’s Day dance – but not everyone present was excited to be there. Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell’s daughter Katie had agreed to do childcare, but only because her boyfriend, Alex, had dumped her a couple days earlier, killing her Valentine’s Day plans.  And Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum’s boyfriend, Ian, was performing at the dance with his jazz band.  This meant that Michelle and Ian had had to eat their Valentine’s Day dinner early and skip desert.  Not Michelle’s idea of a romantic holiday.

Michelle sat at a table with the girls who were dating the other members of Ian’s band.  They complained about the lack of alcohol at the church event while Michelle sulked and watched the couples dancing.  She was surprised to discover choir director Shane Reed was an excellent swing dancer.  He and his girlfriend Audra Park spun around the floor making everyone else look bad.  Michelle thought Ian was pretty sexy when he performed, but at the moment she was feeling a little jealous of Audra.

Meanwhile, down in the Sunday school room, Katie listened to sad songs on her MP3 player while the kids built a makeshift city out of blocks.  The Boyer sisters, Mary, age four, and Susie, age two, were there, as was Sierra Smith, another four-year-old from Mary’s Sunday school class.  Audra’s son Tyler was the only boy present if you didn’t count the baby, Scott Lopez, who was asleep in a crib. 

After a while, Mary looked up from the tower she was building and noticed tears running down Katie’s cheeks.  Mary nudged Sierra.  They weren’t used to seeing someone Katie’s age cry.  The two girls went over to investigate.

“Why are you sad?” Mary asked.

“Because boys are all big, lying jerks,” Katie said.

“I don’t like boys either,” Mary agreed.

“Good,” Katie replied.  “All they ever do is make you cry.”  Then she put her head down on the desk, turned up her music, and moaned miserably.

Mary and Sierra were not quite sure how to react.  Tyler came over to see what was going on.

“Go away, Tyler,” Sierra said.  “You’re a boy and all boys are lying jerks.”

“Take that back!” Tyler replied angrily.

“Get out of here,” Mary said.  “You’ll make Katie cry even worse.”

Tyler was not sure how he’d gotten blamed for Katie’s weeping, but he wasn’t about to let two younger girls tell him what to do.  “Make me,” he said.

Mary and Sierra immediately pounced on him.  Two-year-old Susie didn’t know what was going on, but joined in the beating out of an innate sense of feminist sisterhood and a love of hitting things.  Tyler decided maybe letting the girls tell him what to do was better than having to admit they’d beaten him up.  He dashed out of the room with the three females chasing behind.

Katie looked up just in time to see her charges escaping.  “Come back,” she shouted, but to no avail.  She quickly scooped the baby out of the crib and took off in pursuit.  Scott was not pleased to have his slumber disturbed.  He expressed his displeasure in loud wails.

Up in the social hall, Shane and Audra were taking a break from their energetic dancing.  They got some refreshments and sat at the table next to Michelle’s. 

The band switched to a slow, romantic ballad.  Michelle watched all the couples dancing close and whispering to each other and felt her jealously like a knife in her heart.  It was Valentine’s Day.  She should be dancing cheek to cheek with Ian, not sitting at a table with a bunch of whiny groupies. 

She heard Shane ask Audra if she was ready to dance again.  “I need a few more minutes,” Audra laughed.  “You wore me out!”

Michelle leaned over and asked, “If you need a break, do you think I could borrow Shane for a song?”

Audra shrugged and nodded.  Michelle took Shane’s hand and led him out to a spot directly in front of the band.  Shane put his hands on Michelle’s waist.  She put her arms around his neck and pulled him close.  Shane’s eyes widened in surprise as she pressed herself against him.

Michelle snuck a peek at Ian.  He was staring at them with a troubled frown on his face.  Michelle leaned her head on Shane’s shoulder to hide her satisfied smile.  She had finally gotten his attention.

Shane had noticed Ian’s troubled look as well.  And he’d noticed an equally troubled look on Audra’s face.  But he didn’t quite know what to do.  So he made sure to keep his hands nice and high on Michelle’s back and tried not to look like he was enjoying himself.

When the song ended, Ian grabbed the microphone and said, “Let’s pick up the pace a bit.”  He instructed the band to play an upbeat Dixieland number.

“Well, thanks for the dance,” Shane said to Michelle.

“Aw, come on, one more,” Michelle replied.  As the band launched into their jaunty tune, she began bumping and grinding around him.  Shane tried to dance in a casual, disinterested way, but he had to admit Michelle had some pretty hot moves.

Now more than just Ian and Audra were watching them.  Most of the congregation were not used to seeing one of their pastors behaving in such a manner.  Pastor O’Donnell knew Michelle was courting trouble and was about to intervene when the gaggle of kids burst through the door like a tornado.

Tyler ducked under the refreshment table and out the other side.  Mary, Sierra and Susie followed in hot pursuit.  But somehow Mary caught the edge of the tablecloth on her barrette.  This upset the punch bowl, and punch sloshed across the floor.  Michelle had just completed a little spin.  She stepped back and slipped in the liquid, falling hard on her rear.

The sight was so unexpected everyone burst out laughing in spite of themselves. Everyone, that is, except Ian.  He leapt down from the stage and ran to Michelle.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Michelle looked down at her white dress now stained red with punch and cried “No!”  She scrambled to her feet and ran out of the room.

“Go after her,” Shane said, giving Ian a nudge.  Ian took the advice.

Baby Scott’s wail announced Katie’s arrival.  She looked at the aftermath of the disaster and her heart sank.  But everyone turned out to be quite sympathetic, especially the parents of the kids in question, who generally expected them to cause trouble.  They assisted Katie in rounding up the children while Shane found a mop to clean up the spill.

Out in the hall Ian was trying to understand Michelle through her sobs.  He finally made out that she was disappointed they hadn’t spent more time together that evening.  There was also something in there about chocolate cake.  Ian thought he understood.

“Do you know why I didn’t want to order desert at the restaurant?” he asked.

“Because (sob) you needed to (sniff) set up your gear.”

“No,” Ian said, “that was just an excuse.  I spent all day making a chocolate raspberry cheesecake.  I was going to take you back to my place after the dance and surprise you with it.”

Michelle stopped crying.  “You cooked for me?”

“Yeah.  It’s probably not as good as that cake at the restaurant, but since I spent…” Ian had to table his thought as Michelle planted a big kiss on his mouth.

When Katie marched her charges back down to the Sunday school room, she got a surprise of her own.  Alex was waiting for her.  “Can we talk?” he asked.

Katie put the baby in the crib and told the other kids, “Do not leave this room under any circumstances.  Do you understand?”

Mary, Sierra, Tyler and Susie returned to their toys while Alex and Katie spoke in urgent whispers in the hall.  After a while, Mary noticed the whispers had stopped.  She remembered that Katie had ordered her not to leave the room, but surely poking her head out the door wouldn’t count.

What she saw in the hall shocked her.  Katie was kissing Alex!  “I thought you said boys were lying jerks,” Mary blurted.

Katie laughed.  “Maybe, but they’re also pretty nice to kiss.”

Mary returned to the classroom pondering this new piece of information.  She looked at Tyler who was racing some cars down the streets of the block city they’d built.  He didn’t look like he would be all that great to kiss.  But Katie was older.  Maybe she knew what she was talking about.

Thirty seconds later Tyler came barreling out of the room again, pursued by the three little girls.  He darted past Katie and Alex, up the stairs, and nearly knocked over Michelle and Ian who were making out in the hall.

“Girls are crazy!” Tyler yelled.

“Sure are,” Ian agreed.

The Sweetheart Dance - Part I

Hear the story read by the author 

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  During coffee hour on the first Sunday in February, Kevin and Jill Boyer asked Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell’s fifteen-year-old daughter Katie if she would babysit for them on Valentine’s Day.  Unfortunately, Katie already had plans to go out with her boyfriend, Alex.

In a small town like Normal, Valentine’s Day was a perfect babysitting storm.  Everyone with kids needed one and most of the older teens wanted to go out on dates themselves.  Kevin and Jill compared notes with some of the other young parents at the church.  Audra Park, a single mother who had just started dating the choir director, Shane Reed, hadn’t found a babysitter for her six-year-old son Tyler either.

Carrie and Carlos Lopez smiled sympathetically.  They knew who they were going to have watch their baby – Carrie’s mother, Karen Winslow, who also happened to be a Sunday school teacher at the church.

“I wonder if your mother would be willing to babysit all the children,” Audra mused.  Kevin and Jill immediately perked up.

“I don’t know,” Carrie said.  “I mean, she might if it were for a church event or something, but otherwise…”

“Maybe it could be a church event,” Kevin suggested.  “Maybe the church should hold a Valentine’s Day dance.”  Kevin was finding it as difficult to get a dinner reservation as it was to get a babysitter and this sounded like killing two birds with one stone.  Carrie and Carlos agreed it was a good idea.  They had moved in with Carrie’s parents, Karen and Del, after the company they worked for went bankrupt.  A church dance would be a nice yet economical date.

It was kind of last minute to put something like that together, of course, but when they proposed it to Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell he was surprisingly enthusiastic.  It turned out he was having trouble getting dinner reservations as well.

Henry rushed over to twenty-eight-year-old Associate Pastor Michelle Tellum and her boyfriend, Ian Wells, who was a jazz guitarist.  “We’re thinking about having a Valentine’s Day dance,” Henry said.  “Ian, do you think your band would like to perform?  We could pay you, say, $200.”

“Absolutely!” Ian replied.  His band usually played in clubs for free drinks.

Michelle frowned.  This was the first time since college that she had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day and she was kind of hoping for a romantic evening alone with Ian.  Spending it at the church felt a little too much like work.  She didn’t want to come off as selfish, though, so she tried to be subtle.  “Won’t that mess up the plans you made for us?” she asked, hoping Ian had actually made some plans.

“Nah,” Ian said.  “I was only able to get an early reservation at the restaurant anyway.  We’ll have plenty of time to eat before the dance.”

“It’s settled then,” Henry declared.

“Great,” Michelle sighed.

The first major wrinkle in the plan came when Henry talked to Karen about handling childcare.  “Absolutely not,” Karen said.  It turned out Carrie and Carlos had just assumed she would babysit for them.  They’d never actually asked her.  “Del and I are going out to dinner,” Karen sniffed.  “He made the reservations a month ago.”  Henry decided Del could be pretty annoying sometimes.

The organizers were in a bind.  The childcare was a key reason for the event in the first place.  Without it, many of them wouldn’t be able to attend.  It was looking like they would need a miracle to save the dance.

And then Katie’s boyfriend dumped her. 

It was all Henry could do not to jump for joy.  Alex was two years older than Katie, and Henry had never approved of their relationship.  He forced himself to wait a decent amount of time before broaching the subject of childcare at the church dance.  He figured half an hour was a suitable mourning period for a teenage romance.

Henry obviously didn’t know much about teenage romances.  Katie burst into tears when he proposed she spend Valentine’s Day watching little kids.  Henry, never particularly skilled at handling crying females, quickly offered to pay her double her regular babysitting rate.  Katie stopped crying.  There was a pair of shoes she really wanted and the gig would just about cover them.  She agreed.

The dance was on.

Valentine’s Day evening started out pretty good for Michelle.  Ian gave her an appropriately lascivious compliment on the sheer white dress she wore.  The restaurant he’d chosen was quite romantic, though the candlelight might have had more impact if the sun wasn’t still shining in around the curtains while they ate.

After they’d finished a juicy prime rib for two, the waiter asked if they’d like to see the desert cart.  He mentioned a special Valentine’s chocolate fudge cake and assured them it was quite decadent.

“We better not,” Ian said.  “I’ve got to get over to the church to set up for the show.”

Michelle looked at her watch.  It wasn’t even seven and it looked like the Valentine’s Day romance was over.  She’d spend the rest of the evening sitting alone watching Ian perform on stage.  And she wouldn’t even have the aftertaste of chocolate fudge cake to tide her over.  She sighed.

Little did she know her evening was destined to get better.  Of course it was also destined to get a lot worse, first.

To be continued…

Stung

Hear the story read by the author.

In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  One morning church secretary Tammy Billings informed Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell that Abigail Leary had passed away.  This was sad news, of course, but Abbie was ninety-seven and had been a shut-in since before Henry had become pastor, so it wasn’t exactly unexpected.  Henry had visited Abbie regularly, as he did all shut-ins who were members of the congregation, but many people at the church had never even met her.

A couple days after Henry delivered a touching message at Abbie’s memorial service, Tammy brought him more news.  “Abbie left her car to the church in her will.”

“Just the car,” Henry asked, without looking up from his newspaper.  “No cash?”

“Afraid not,” Tammy said.  “I’ll call the donation service.”  The church had no use for an old car, so when one was donated the standard procedure was to sell it to a company that auctioned them on behalf of charitable organizations.

“What kind of car is it?” Henry asked.

“1974 Corvette Stingray.”

Henry dropped the newspaper.  When he was in high school he’d loved the Corvette Stingray more than the girl in his English class who had developed early.  But the car was too expensive for him to buy on the money he earned from his part-time fast food job, so, like the girl, he had to simply admire it from afar.  And by the time his income was sufficient, he was married with a little baby and needed something more practical – or at least that’s what his wife Jennifer told him when he suggested they buy a Stingray. 

“Hold on,” he told Tammy.  “Find out what the donation service will pay for it, but don’t sell it to them just yet.”

It turned out, for a Stingray in the condition of Abbie Leary’s, the donation service would only pay $1,000.  Abbie had stopped driving altogether when the car’s carburetor failed.  She’d kept meaning to sell it but never got around to it.  And two decades sitting in a garage without maintenance hadn’t done the vehicle any favors.

So Henry decided to buy the car from the church himself.  Jennifer was not pleased when he informed her of this over dinner.  “What are you going to do with an old car that doesn’t run,” Jennifer asked.

“I’ll fix it up,” Henry said.  “My Dad and I fixed up an old Ford when I was a teenager.  That was my first car and I loved it, though it wasn’t anywhere near as cool as a Stingray.  Katie can help me and then it can be her car when she gets her license.”

Katie was Henry and Jennifer’s fifteen-year-old daughter.  She looked up from her plate and moaned, “I don’t want some lame old junker car!”

“Do you even know what a Corvette Stingray is?” Henry asked.

“Is it, like, one of those cars you have to turn a crank on the front to start?” Katie asked.

“No, it’s not,” Henry replied.  “When you see it I think you’ll change your mind.”

But when Katie saw it she did not change her mind.  This had more to do with the car’s condition than the design.  After Henry had the Stingray towed to his house, he and Katie stood and looked at the dusty vehicle, it’s tires flat, it’s leather seats cracked, and it’s paint damaged by sun exposure.  “It’s a piece of junk,” Katie said.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get it cleaned up and running in no time,” Henry replied confidently.

Katie’s enthusiasm for working on the car was minimal at first and completely gone after about half an hour.  The biggest problem was the grease and dust.  Katie did not like to get dirty.  As the weeks went by Henry had to resort to ever-greater threats and cajoling to convince her to join him in the weekend repair sessions, and even then she mostly just handed him tools as he requested them.  And usually they were the wrong tools.

Henry struggled to maintain his own enthusiasm for the project.  He hadn’t done serious work on an automobile since that time in high school with his father, and some of the repairs required were more complex than he had anticipated.  Moreover, parts for a ’74 Stingray turned out to be pretty expensive.  Two months after the initial purchase he’d put several thousand dollars and quite a few weekend hours into the car and it still didn’t run. He was about ready to give up and sell it to the donation service, taking a loss on the money he’d spent.

And then a small miracle happened.

One Saturday morning Katie asked if they could work on the car that afternoon.  Henry wondered allowed what had caused the change of heart.

“I told Alex about it and he wants to come see it.  I guess he likes those old manta rays.”

“Stingray,” Henry corrected her with a frown.  Alex was Katie’s new boyfriend.  He was two years older than her and Henry did not really approve of the relationship.  Jennifer had convinced him that voicing the disapproval would only make Katie more determined to go out with the boy, so whenever Alex’s name came up, Henry bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut.  Still, if the kid got Katie interested in working on the car, maybe there would be some upside to Henry’s sore tongue.

Alex came over after lunch.  Henry put on his best stern father look as he shook the kid’s hand.  “How you doin’, Mister O?” Alex asked.

“You can call me Pastor O’Donnell,” Henry said.

“Daaaaad,” Katie moaned in embarrassment.

Alex seemed not to notice.  His eyes were fixed on the car.  “Awesome Stingray!” he said.  “It’s got the four speed transmission and T-top.  Nice.  You putting in the Holley carb?”

“Yeah,” Henry said, warming up to the kid slightly.  “Take a look.”  They popped the hood.

For the next four hours Henry and Alex were buried under that hood while Katie sat on the curb and texted with her friends.  At one point she suggested to Alex that maybe they should go see a movie, but he was too engrossed in the car.  She didn’t push him.  Dating a senior had made her super popular among her friends.

Alex turned out to be pretty handy around an engine.  Far handier than Henry, as a matter of fact, though Henry would not have admitted it to save his life.  As the sun settled on the horizon, they finished the last of the repairs and Henry slid behind the wheel to try the ignition.

He turned the key and the engine sputtered to life with a cough of blue smoke.  It struggled for a moment, then let loose a guttural growl.  Henry and Alex whooped with excitement and shared a high five.  Henry looked over at Katie.  She was obliviously tapping away on her phone.

“Katie, go get your mother,” Henry shouted over the engine.

“Why?” Katie asked without looking up.

“So she can watch us take your new car for its first spin around the block.”

Katie retrieved Jennifer from inside.  Jennifer was not any more enthusiastic about the impending test drive than Katie, but they both humored their men.  Henry and Katie climbed in the car, Henry behind the wheel since Katie didn’t yet know how to drive a stick shift.  Alex looked a little disappointed he wasn’t invited on the maiden voyage, but he didn’t say anything.

Henry eased the car out of the driveway and down the street.  The engine knocked and pinged a few times but it ran.  However, when they reached the end of the block and he pressed down on the brake, nothing happened.

The car shot through the stop sign.  Katie screamed, though there was no other traffic and they were only going about twenty miles an hour.  Henry kept his cool, shifted into neutral and applied the emergency brake.  He veered to the side of the road and brought the car to a stop against the curb with a painful scraping sound.

Alex and Jennifer ran down the street.  “What happened?” Alex asked.

“All the brake fluid must have leaked out,” Henry said.

“I am never getting in that car again,” Katie cried.

“We can fix the brakes,” Henry assured her.

“She is never getting in that car again,” Jennifer cried.

In the end they were all correct.  Henry and Alex fixed the brakes but Katie never did get in the Stingray again.  After a day tooling around town, Henry sold the car to a collector from Ohio and donated all of the profit to the church in Abbie Leary’s name.  Alex wanted to buy the Stingray but he was limited by the lack of income from his part-time fast food job.

For her sixteenth birthday Katie got a used Volkswagen Rabbit.  She was delighted.  Henry rolled his eyes as she jumped up and down around the car.  The girl had no sense of cool.