The Serpent in the Cupboard

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. Last Sunday was warm and breezy, and the windows of the social hall had been thrown open for coffee hour. Audra Park, however, was too preoccupied to enjoy the weather. She was telling Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell about her ideas for mission projects when she spotted her six-year-old son Tyler making his fourth trip to the refreshment table.

“You’ve had enough cookies,” Audra snapped as she intercepted the boy.

“But I’m hungry,” Tyler whined.

“We’ll go to lunch as soon as I finish talking to Pastor O’Donnell,” Audra replied. “Can you please go play?”

Tyler sighed as only a six year-old unfairly denied a cookie can sigh and trudged off.

Audra returned to the pastor, apologizing for the interruption. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I remember when my daughter was his age.”

As Audra continued to explain her mission idea, she noticed that O’Donnell had grown distracted by something behind her. She turned and let out a gasp.

Tyler was creeping along the wall with a ten-inch carving knife in his hand.

“Tyler!” she shouted, running over to him. “Give me that. What were you thinking?”

“I was hunting a snake,” he said.

“There are no snakes in here,” she replied. “You know you aren’t allowed to handle knives without supervision.”

“There is a snake,” Tyler cried. “It bit my shoe!”

He stuck his left foot out revealing two puncture holes about half an inch apart on the tip of his tennis shoe. “Tyler Park, what did you do? Those were brand new! Why would you poke holes in them?”

“It was a snake, Mom,” Tyler insisted.

Audra sighed. “Are you familiar with the boy who cried wolf?”

“It was a snake, not a wolf! Geez, will you listen to me?”

“We’ll talk about this when we get home,” Audra said. “Now sit right here until I’m finished.”

Tyler flopped onto a chair and folded his arms, his lip protruding in an exaggerated pout. Audra returned to the pastor. “He said he saw a snake,” she sighed. “My son has an active imagination.”

O’Donnell chuckled. “They probably discussed the Garden of Eden in Sunday school. Last week’s lesson was about Daniel, and Tyler told me bullies at his school were throwing kids to the lions.”

Just then there was a high-pitched scream from the kitchen. The pastor ran toward it, Audra following close behind. They found church secretary Tammy Billings standing in the middle of the room looking even paler than normal, her fingers fluttering about her mouth.

“What happened?” O’Donnell asked.

“Snake,” Tammy squeaked, pointing at the cupboard.

Audra’s face went pale. She dashed from the kitchen, shouting Tyler’s name.

O’Donnell reached for the cupboard. “Don’t open it!” Tammy exclaimed.

“Relax,” the pastor said. “I’m sure it’s more afraid of us than we are of it.”

Tammy thought snakes must be timid creatures indeed if this one was more scared than she was. She remembered that the offering still needed to be counted, and decided now would be a terrific time for that task. She bolted for the church office before Pastor O’Donnell could open the cupboard.

It so happened that as a boy O’Donnell had been fascinated by snakes and even kept a garter snake as a pet for a while. He knew most were harmless, though there were a few species of rattlesnake in Pennsylvania. So he opened the door calmly but cautiously.

All that he could see in the cupboard were boxes of tin foil and plastic bags.

For a moment he wondered if Tammy had imagined the snake. But given Tyler’s claim, that would be too much of a coincidence. He opened the cupboard a little farther. Inside, the shelves ran the entire length of the cabinetry with no sides separating the individual sections. The snake had most likely slithered along the shelves after Tammy disturbed it. O’Donnell began methodically opening each door in turn, using a wooden spoon to shift the contents around. But there was no sign of any snake.

Meanwhile, Tyler was writhing on the floor as Audra wrenched his shoe and sock off to examine his toes. “Where did it bite you?” she cried.

“It didn’t!” Tyler said. “It just bit the end of my shoe.”

After a ten minute inspection, Audra was finally satisfied that his skin hadn’t been broken and that he wasn’t about to go into a poison induced coma. She hugged him tightly. “Mom, you’re hurting me,” he mumbled against her shoulder.

“Sorry,” she said, releasing him.

Tyler saw the worry in his mother’s eyes. It kind of scared him. It also gave him an idea. “Could I maybe have a cookie?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” Audra replied.

Most of the congregation had already departed to enjoy their Sunday afternoons, but there were still a few cookies on the table. As Tyler and Audra finished them off, neither noticed the snake slithering across the linoleum behind them.

The snake was not trying to scare anybody, of course. It had only bitten Tyler’s shoe because he nearly stepped on it while running after a ball. And it was drawn to the church office by a shuffling noise that it thought might be a rodent. Had it known Tammy was in there, it would have chosen a different route. But its eyes were at floor level, so it didn’t even notice Tammy sitting behind the desk.

However Tammy, from her vantage point, definitely noticed the serpent gliding across the office threshold.

She scrambled up onto the desk. She watched as the snake curled itself into a swirl in the middle of the office floor, sunlight glinting off its reddish brown and white scales, its malevolent obsidian eyes scanning the room, its tongue tasting the air. Tammy imagined it tasted her fear. She wondered what flavor fear most resembled.

The snake was between her and the door. She leaned over slowly to peer into the social hall, hoping someone would be there to rescue her, but Tyler and Audra had already left and the room was now empty. She needed another means of escape. She could reach the window from the desk, but when she tried to raise it she discovered it had been painted shut.

Tammy glanced back at the snake. It gazed implacably at her. Panic swelled in her throat, threatening to choke her. She had to get away from those unblinking eyes or they would drive her mad! There was only one place to go: The closet.

Slowly she climbed down and slipped through the closet door. She stuffed her sweater in the gap at the base of the door so the snake couldn’t get in. But now the small space was completely dark. She triggered her cell phone display for light.

Her cell phone! Help was but a call away. She dialed Pastor O’Donnell’s number. “I’m trapped in the closet in the office,” she whispered when he answered. “The snake is right outside. Stop laughing, it isn’t funny!”

She hung up angrily. Several minutes passed. She held the cell phone in her left hand, aiming the light at the bottom of the door, as she used her right hand to dab away the beads of icy sweat that kept forming on her temple.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Tammy yelped, momentarily imagining the snake had figured out how to turn the knob with its mouth. But it was only Pastor O’Donnell.

“Did you see the snake?” she asked.

“Yes,” O’Donnell whispered. “It’s right above you.”

Tammy screamed and climbed the pastor like he was a tree. But since, unlike a tree, the pastor lacked roots, both of them tumbled onto the carpet. O’Donnell was laughing so hard he was crying.

Tammy scrambled to her feet and looked into the closet. “Where is it!” she screeched.

“Under there,” O’Donnell gasped, pointing at an overturned plastic wastebasket in the middle of the office floor. “It was sleeping in the sunlight.”

Tammy seethed at the prank he’d played on her, but could not at the moment think of an appropriate comeback. She stalked out of the office while O’Donnell called Normal’s animal control department. She intended to head straight home, but she forgot to take her purse with her and was unwilling to reenter the office while the snake was there, wastebasket or no wastebasket.

Once the animal control agent had captured the snake, Pastor O’Donnell insisted that Tammy take a look at it. “It’s in a cage,” he told her. “Come on, it’ll make you feel better.”

Reluctantly, Tammy entered the office and studied the cage from a safe distance. She wondered if they’d gotten the right one. The snake didn’t look as big as she’d remembered.

“It’s a milk snake,” the animal control officer said helpfully. “Non-venomous. See that bulge behind the head? It’s fed in the last half hour so it’s pretty docile.”

“Fed on what?” Tammy asked.

“Probably a mouse. See, it did you a favor.”

“A… mouse?” O’Donnell stammered, then dashed from the room.

Tammy walked the animal control officer out to his truck. Pastor O’Donnell was in the parking lot waiting for her.

“Call an exterminator Monday,” he told her. “I won’t have mice in the church. Sneaky, filthy little rodents.” He shuddered.

“Will do,” Tammy said with a smile. She was remembering how O’Donnell had intentionally scared her earlier. And she was pretty sure she’d seen some rubber mouse toys for cats at the pet store.

Stage Parents

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm.  The choir director, Shane Reed, is dating Audra Park, a young, single mother and member of the choir.  One recent Friday Shane went to pick her up for a date.  When she answered the door, she was laughing so hard tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes.

“Is it the shirt?” Shane asked.  He had bought his shirt a week before after being encouraged by a perky salesgirl, but he had suspected her compliments might not have been entirely genuine.

“What?  No,” Audra said.  “Look.”  She gestured into the apartment.  Her six-year-old son Tyler was singing a classic rock song into a microphone as his babysitter, Katie O’Donnell, accompanied him on a plastic guitar.  Tyler mimicked the rock star gyrations of animated musicians on the TV.  “It’s a video game,” Audra said, observing Shane’s confused expression.

“Tyler’s got a good voice,” Shane mused.  It wasn’t surprising – Audra was one of the best vocalists in the choir.  Clearly the apple had landed near the tree.

“Yeah,” Audra agreed.  “And some pretty impressive dance moves.  Shall we go?”

Shane thought about Tyler’s voice on the drive to the restaurant.  He’d been looking for a way to bond with the boy since he and Audra started dating.  Over dessert he asked, “Do you think Tyler would be interested in joining a children’s choir?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Audra said.  She’d also been looking for a way for her son and boyfriend to get closer.

Shane announced the children’s choir during the next church service, noting that he had posted a sign-up sheet for kids between the ages of four and twelve in the hall by the Sunday school rooms.  Audra added Tyler’s name as soon as service was over.  Tyler couldn’t understand why he would want to go to choir practice when there were perfectly good video games to be played at home, but being six he was forced to accede to his mom’s wishes.

Jill Boyer had not planned to sign her four-year-old daughter Mary up for the choir even though she was just inside the lower end of the age range.  Mary didn’t usually respond well to the “organized” part of organized activities.  But when Jill retrieved Mary from Sunday school, they passed Mary’s classmate Sierra and her father, Arthur, by the sign-up sheet.

“Would you like to be in a children’s choir?” Arthur was asking Sierra.

“Oh, yes, Daddy!” Sierra shouted, jumping up and down and clapping her hands with glee.  Arthur wrote her name below Tyler’s.

Mary saw this and asked, “Can I be in the choir, too?”

“It’ll be a great experience,” Arthur said as Jill considered her response.  “Sierra has a beautiful voice.  I know most children this age can’t really carry a tune, but I suspect Sierra might have perfect pitch.  I’ve been thinking I should get her a voice coach.  She could probably be a professional singer.”

Mary was tugging on Jill’s pant leg.  “Please, Mommy, can I be in the choir? Please, please, please, please…”

“Sure,” Jill said and snatched the pen from Arthur.  “I’ve always suspected you had perfect pitch, too.”

Of course Jill suspected no such thing.  But according to Arthur, Sierra was the most glorious little human being with whom God had blessed the world since the times of Jesus.  It got on Jill’s nerves.

Shane decided Easter would be a good opportunity for the children’s choir to make their debut.  He planned to have them sing that classic children’s Easter hymn, Morning Has Broken.

Shane had never conducted a children’s choir but he figured he could handle it.  After all, many of the adult choir members often behaved like children.  Sure, Arthur lobbied him to give Sierra a solo, but hardly an adult choir rehearsal went by without someone complaining about Shane’s choice of soloist.  And Arthur was easier to handle since Shane simply declared that there would be no solos in the children’s choir.

Of course none of the adult choir members had ever spilled juice on the sheet music, or broken into tears after skinning their knee, or started an eraser fight.  Mary did all of that in the first fifteen minutes of rehearsal. 

Shane had arranged the kids by height, the older and tallest kids in the middle of the back row, and the younger, shorter kids in the front row and to the sides.  Mary, being one of the shortest, was on the far left.  However, after the eraser fight, Shane decided to move her to the center.  He enlisted the girl directly behind her, twelve-year-old Becky Goodhart, to help keep Mary in line.  Shane’s plan worked for rehearsal, but was to have unintended consequences for the performance.

Unlike Mary, Tyler was quite well behaved all through rehearsal.  Which meant that by the time Audra arrived to pick him up, Shane realized he’d barely spoken to the boy.  His plan for bonding was not working out as he’d hoped.

On Easter morning, Mary talked excitedly about the impending performance all through breakfast.  Jill may have signed Mary up out of annoyance with Arthur, but now she was delighted by her daughter’s enthusiasm and commitment. After a thirty minute search, she located the family’s camcorder in Mary’s room where she had been using it to film a movie with her dolls.  Jill scraped a wad of gum off the camera and slipped it into her purse.  Maybe she would finally get some video of Mary that she could show the grandparents without having to edit out the embarrassing parts.

Arthur also planned to videotape Sierra.  This was no surprise to anyone.  Sierra’s short life to date was one of the most documented in the history of mankind.  Carefully labeled DVDs of Sierra occupied a whole shelf of the living room bookcase.  As the kids marched out to take their place for their performance, Arthur set up a tripod in the center aisle.

Jill had taken a spot on the opposite side of the aisle.  She hadn’t brought along a tripod, but she steadied her camera on the back of the pew in front of her.  A bit of gum she’d missed helped hold it in place.  And to her delight, Mary’s central position gave her a nice, unobstructed shot.

Sierra’s position at the far edge of the choir did not offer such a clear shot to Arthur.  He wondered what Shane was thinking putting the most talented vocalist off to the side like that.  “Sierra,” he hissed as the kids were lining up.  She looked over and he gestured for her to move toward the center.

Shane had not seen Arthur’s gesture and did not know why Sierra was leaving her assigned spot.  “Sierra,” he whispered, “get back to your place.”  Sierra returned to the edge of the choir.  Shane signaled organist Walter Tibble to begin.

Arthur glared at Shane’s back.  The man was clearly an idiot unqualified to lead a choir of dogs.  He motioned urgently for Sierra to move back toward the center.  Sierra was a little confused by the contradictory messages, but she obeyed her father’s latest instruction.  Shane tried to motion her back again, but the little girl’s gaze was fixed on her father.

Meanwhile, Jill had zoomed in for a close-up of Mary.  Her daughter looked like an angel.  This was uncommon – usually Mary seemed to represent the other team in the divine rivalry.  Suddenly, a carefully coifed head of hair topped by a pink bow filled the viewfinder.

Jill zoomed out.  Sierra had come to a stop directly in front of Mary.  Jill waved to get Mary’s attention.  Mary waved back.  Jill motioned for her to step out from behind Sierra.  Mary tried to obey, but Becky, ever alert to her mission, pulled Mary back into place.

Jill looked over at Arthur and hissed, “Would you please get your daughter to go back to her spot?”

“But I can’t see her way over there,” Arthur whispered back.

“Well, I can’t see Mary over your daughter’s head,” Jill replied.

“Then maybe your daughter should move,” Arthur snapped.

“Maybe your daughter should learn to cooperate with others,” Jill shot back.

“Mommy, shh!” Mary shouted from the front.  “We’re singing.”

The congregation laughed.  Jill flushed with embarrassment.  Arthur gloated until Shane took Sierra’s arm and guided her back to her proper place.

The children finished their song without further incident.  As they walked off, Sierra and Mary held hands.  Jill was proud to show the video of the performance to the grandparents, but only after editing out the part where Mary had shushed her.

After service was over, Shane noticed Tyler going up to the youth group room.  He followed and found Tyler playing a football game on the youth group’s video game system.  “Can I play, too?” Shane asked.

“Sure,” Tyler said.  They spent the next hour bonding.  When the game was over, Shane was quite happy, even though he lost seventy-three to fourteen.

A Tale of Three Fathers

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. The congregation includes many fathers and sons and daughters, of course. And on Father’s Day the sons and daughters celebrated their fathers in many different ways. These are three of their stories.

Katie and Henry

When Pastor Henry O’Donnell came down to breakfast, his teenage daughter Katie was waiting for him with a gift and a joyful greeting of, “Happy Father’s Day.”

She followed that up with, “Oh Dad, you’re not going to wear that tie again, are you?”

The tie in question was green with a pink cartoon duck on it. Katie had given it to him when she was five, proudly telling him she had picked it out herself. Henry had worn it to preach every Father’s Day since. He always used the story of Katie giving him the tie in his sermons. During coffee hour many of the congregants would compliment Katie on her taste.

But by the time Katie was ten, she’d realized the tie was extremely ugly and the compliments were meant ironically. She begged her father to dispose of the tie. Henry always refused, just as he did this year.

Katie’s gift this Father’s Day was a box of golf balls. She also announced that she would be taking the family out to dinner. “Where?” Henry asked.

“It’s a surprise,” she told him.

That evening Henry, Katie, and her mother, Jennifer, drove to a new steak place in Tenor Falls called Buckeye Pete’s. Jennifer informed Henry that Katie had picked it out herself and made the reservation. What Jennifer didn’t know was that Katie chose this restaurant because of a particular tradition they had. If anybody came in wearing a tie, they would cut it off and hang it on the wall. Katie knew her father would wear the pink duck tie all day and figured she could finally be free of the embarrassment.

Katie led the family into Buckeye Pete’s. “Reservation for three under Katie O’Donnell,” she told the hostess. Then she stepped aside so the woman could see her father’s tie.

Only he wasn’t wearing the tie.

Katie’s mouth dropped open in amazement. Henry leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I’ve heard of this place, too.” Then he patted a bulge in his jacket pocket. Katie sighed. But the steak was terrific so it wasn’t a total loss.

Tyler

“What’s that?” four-year-old Mary Boyer asked. She was sitting with seven-year-old Tyler Park during coffee hour after church and looking at the Father’s Day card he had drawn in Sunday school. It showed a man in a black hat and trench coat engaged in a gun battle with some criminals.

“That’s my Dad,” Tyler replied. “He lives in Chicago. He’s a spy.”

“Really?” Mary asked, wide-eyed.

“Yep,” Tyler said, “but it’s a secret so don’t tell anyone. He’s saved the world forty-two times. He’s a hero and has a big chest full of medals that the President gave him.”

“Wow,” Mary marveled.

“What does your Dad do?” Tyler asked.

“He works in an office,” Mary said, with just a hint of jealousy in her voice.

Just then Mary’s father, Kevin Boyer, came to get her. Mary wondered how many times he had saved the world. She doubted it was more than half a dozen. The family headed out to the car, Mary’s parents laughing about the pastor’s tie. Mary didn’t get the joke. She thought the pink duck was kind of neat.

Meanwhile, Tyler showed his Mom, Audra, his card, explaining it in great detail.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Tyler asked.

“I’m sure he will,” she replied, smiling. But Tyler noticed her eyes looked kind of sad.

They mailed the new card on the way home. After lunch, Tyler called his Dad. They talked for twelve minutes before Tyler’s Dad said he had to go to work at his job at the pizza joint. It was about seven minutes longer than Audra thought her ex would last.

After the conversation Tyler retreated to his room. Audra watched TV and tried not to worry about him. An hour or so later Tyler came out with an armload of drawings. “Mom, can I show you what I drew?” he asked.

“Sure,” Audra said. Tyler spread the papers out. They turned out to be a rough comic book featuring Audra as a superhero saving the world. As Tyler was finishing up his narration of the story he noticed there were tears in his Mom’s eyes.

“Are you sad, Mom?” he asked.

“No, honey,” Audra replied and gave Tyler a big hug.

Mary and Susie and Kevin

Like Tyler, Mary had made a card in Sunday school featuring a picture of her Dad. She had drawn him sitting on the couch watching TV. Kevin didn’t quite know how to take that. His wife Jill thought it was hilarious.

Mary didn’t draw the picture because Kevin was any more of a couch potato than the average guy – in fact, he spent as much time playing sports as he did watching them – she drew the picture because the gift she and her two-year-old sister Susie were giving their father was to wait on him hand and foot while he watched a stock car race on television.

When they got home Mary and Susie ordered Kevin to sit on the couch. Mary tucked a cozy blanket around him despite the fact that it was actually a fairly warm day. Then the two girls headed for the kitchen to get him a drink.

When they returned a few minutes later, Mary carrying a can of soda and Susie a glass of ice, Mary saw that the blanket was bunched up on Kevin’s lap.

“Your blanket fell,” she observed. She climbed up on the arm of the couch and pulled it back in place, making sure to tuck it in extra tight this time.

“Thanks, sweetie, but it’s a little warm,” Kevin gasped.

“I’ll fan you!” Mary cried with delight. She grabbed a magazine and began waving it vigorously.

“Thanks,” Kevin said after the fourth time she had accidentally swatted his ear. “I’m much cooler now.” He noticed Jill peeking in from the kitchen with a smirk on her face.

The girls joined their mother in the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a big bowl of microwave popcorn.

“Look Daddy,” Mary said, “We made it ourselves.”

“Very impressive,” Kevin said. He took the bowl from them and noticed that half of the popcorn was scorched black.

“Eat it, Daddy!” Susie shouted. Kevin took a handful and tossed it in his mouth. He could just barely taste the butter under the overpowering flavor of charcoal. The girls watched expectantly. He took another handful.

Mary observed a bead of sweat trickle down Kevin’s temple. “You’re hot again,” she declared and picked up the magazine.

“It’s my turn to fan him!” Susie wailed. She grabbed the magazine and the two girls engaged in a tug of war. In the process they spilled Kevin’s soda in his lap. To his disappointment they completely missed the bowl of blackened popcorn.

“Sorry, Daddy,” the girls said in unison. Kevin took a deep breath. He knew they meant well.

When Kevin returned from changing his clothes, he could hear the girls in the kitchen arguing about who got to bring him his new drink. He turned off the TV just as they returned to the living room carrying a dangerously full glass of soda between them.

“Why did you turn the TV off?” Mary asked.

“The race is over,” Kevin lied. Mary and Susie looked disappointed. “You know what I’d really like to do now? Go to the park. Do you want to come with me?” The girls’ faces immediately perked up.

While they were getting ready Jill pulled Kevin aside and asked if he wanted her to take the girls to the park so he could enjoy the rest of the race in peace. “It’ll be my Father’s Day present to you,” she said.

“No, that’s okay,” Kevin replied. “I really do want to take them.”

A short time later he was sitting on a hard wooden bench by the playground with no snacks and no drinks and thankfully no cozy blanket watching his daughters play spies instead of watching cars going around in a circle really fast on TV. Most days he would have considered this a chore but today he found he was enjoying himself.

Then Mary fell and skinned her knee. As Kevin fussed over the slight wound Mary thought about Tyler’s Dad. Mary decided she was pretty glad that her father was just a businessman who lived in Normal instead of a hero spy that lived in Chicago. She gave Kevin a big hug and said, “Happy Father’s Day, Daddy.”

11 p.m.

At 11 p.m. Katie and Tyler and Mary and Susie were all in bed. Kevin was watching highlights of the race he had missed, Audra was leafing through Tyler’s drawings and Henry was hanging up his favorite tie until next year. It had been quite a fine Father’s Day for all of them.

For my Dad.

Drifts

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In the town of Normal, Pennsylvania, there’s a little church at the corner of Wilson and Elm. All week long Normal had been bombarded by a late winter snowstorm, but Sunday morning the sun rose in a clear blue sky. The little church looked like something out of a painting, draped in a pristine blanket of sparkling white. Most of the congregation arrived for worship in good spirits, delighted to be out and about after so many days cooped up inside.

The one person who wasn’t charmed by the beauty of the fresh snow was Tammy Billings. She and her husband Ralph, the head usher, arrived at the church extra early that morning. Ralph was the one who had to shovel the thirty-foot sidewalk leading from the parking lot to the church entrance. Ralph was fifty-nine years old and Tammy worried about him over-exerting himself.

Ralph had no such concerns. He liked a little physical labor in the crisp winter air. “Gets the blood flowing,” he said.

Ralph had cleared about a third of the walk when Pastor Henry O’Donnell and his teenage daughter Katie pulled into the parking lot. Tammy met the pastor as he got out of his car.

“Good morning,” O’Donnell said. “I knew Ralph would be here hard at work already. You can always rely on good old Ralph.”

“Yes you can,” Tammy agreed. “But that’s a lot of snow for one man to shovel. Do you think you could give him a hand? He won’t let me because of my carpel tunnel.”

“I would,” O’Donnell said with an apologetic shrug, “but I’m wearing my good leather shoes.”

“I’ll help,” Katie volunteered. She wasn’t a fan of hard labor so early in the morning but she liked Ralph and hated to see him working when everyone else was standing around.

O’Donnell smiled with pride as he watched his daughter and Ralph shovel the walk together. I’ve raised a good kid, he thought. If more parents were better roll models for their teenagers it would solve a lot of problems in this country.

Then he looked at his watch. “How much longer,” he called out. “I have to start preparing for my sermon pretty soon.”

It was only a few more minutes until Ralph and Katie had cleared the path enough for O’Donnell to get into the building without damaging his good shoes. As the two of them stood leaning on their snow shovels and surveying their handiwork, Ralph pointed at the mound of snow they’d created and said, “what say we turn that into a snow sculpture after church? We could make a big dragon or something.”

“Cool,” Katie said with a grin.

After church was over most of the congregation gathered in the social hall where Tammy had whipped up a batch of hot cocoa in addition to the usual coffee and tea. Four year-old Mary Boyer knelt on a couch, her nose pressed to a window, watching Katie and Ralph sculpting their life-size snow dragon by the front walk.

She ran over to her father, Kevin Boyer, and tugged on his pant leg. “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy,” she cried. “I want to build a snowman!”

“Maybe later,” Kevin said. “I’m having some cocoa.”

Kevin’s wife, Jill, gave him a stern look. “Go play with your daughter.”

“Yay,” Mary shouted. Kevin grumpily slurped down the rest of his cocoa and took Mary out behind the church.

“Let’s make a unicorn!” Mary exclaimed. She had been inspired by the dragon to think beyond the typical snowman made of three stacked balls. Kevin agreed and they began mounding up snow to form the body. For practical purposes they would only sculpt the unicorn from the hips up.

As the creature took shape, Kevin’s grouchiness vanished. He got caught up in the artistry of the task and began to sculpt the figure into an ever more realistic form.

“What should I do, Daddy?” Mary asked.

“Why don’t you add snow to the flanks,” he replied as he carefully molded the head.

“What’s the flanks?” Mary said.

“The sides.”

Mary started slapping handfuls of snow onto the flanks of the unicorn. But she quickly grew bored of the mundane task. “I want to help with the head,” she said.

“No, honey, why don’t you make the tail,” Kevin mumbled.

Mary didn’t want to make the tail but she knew the look on her Daddy’s face. The unicorn was now his project. She decided to go make her own snow sculpture, one that would be bigger and cooler than the unicorn.

That mission was derailed, however, when she spotted a round plastic sled leaning up against the church building. Suddenly sledding sounded a lot more fun than building a snow sculpture. She took the sled over to where snow had drifted up against the church’s tool shed forming a slope just the right size for a girl her age.

A bit later, six-year-old Tyler Park trudged by Mary’s sledding slope.

“Want to sled with me?” Mary asked.

“That’s not much of a hill,” Tyler replied. “I used to race bobsleds with my Dad. We would sled down huge mountains that were really steep. We’d do jumps and loop-de-loops and everything.”

“Really?” Mary said.

“Sure,” Tyler nodded. He had a rather active imagination. “If we had a mountain around here I’d show you.”

“What about the roof of the church?” Mary asked. “It’s not a mountain but it’s pretty high and steep. If you sled down the side you could jump the sled over to the roof of the tool shed, then slide down onto the snow drift.”

Tyler studied the route Mary indicated. “I guess that would be cool,” he said. “Too bad we can’t get up on the roof.”

“Sure we can,” Mary said. “Follow me.”

Mary led Tyler around to the side of the church where snow was mounded on top of the garbage bins to within two feet of the eaves. She clambered up the snow bank and pulled herself onto the roof. Not one to be outdone by a four year-old girl, Tyler followed.

They made their way up the slope of the roof to just below the peak. Tyler stood there, the plastic sled under his arm, surveying the proposed route. It looked a little steeper from this angle and the gap to the shed was wider than he had thought.

“Well,” Mary said. “Go ahead.”

“Just a minute,” Tyler snapped. “A real sled racer plans his race carefully.”

“Oh,” Mary said, suitably impressed to know a real sled racer.

Meanwhile, Pastor O’Donnell stepped out the front door of the church with his cup of cocoa. He called to Ralph, who was at that moment sculpting the dragon’s left wing with Katie.

“I’ve been wondering,” O’Donnell said. “There’s a lot of snow up on the roof. Do you think it’ll be a problem?”

“I suppose I could go up there and shovel it off,” Ralph said.

“That would be great,” O’Donnell replied around a sip of cocoa.

When Ralph climbed up on the roof a couple minutes later he was shocked to find two children standing there with a sled. “Just what do you two think you’re doing?” Ralph asked.

“Tyler’s going to sled down the roof of the church, jump onto the shed and then slide down the other side. He’s a real sled racer,” Mary said.

“Oh no he’s not,” Ralph said. “Give me that sled and get down from here. The roof is much too dangerous for kids.”

“Aw, shoot,” Tyler responded, quickly handing the sled to Ralph. “Oh well, come on Mary.”

Ralph watched to make sure they got off the roof safely. He shook his head as he looked down at the sled path the children had planned. “Crazy kids,” he muttered.

Still, it might have worked. The shed was perfectly in line with the roof. The sled would probably clear the gap with ease. And it would then be a simple matter to ride down onto the snowdrift. Not something a child should try of course.

But, Ralph thought, I’m not a child. He looked around to make sure nobody was watching. Tyler and Mary had gone back inside for cocoa and Kevin was absorbed with putting the finishing touches on the snow unicorn.

Ralph set the sled down and hopped on. It immediately plummeted down the church roof. It made the jump to the tool shed just as planned, bouncing once then rocketing down the drift.

The bounce, however, threw Ralph off balance and the sled began to spin. The spin caused it to arc off to the left as it came off the slope.

The sled had gained quite a bit of speed on its journey down the roof. It skipped across the expanse of snow-covered lawn, still spinning out of control, and plowed right into the snow unicorn just as Kevin was fixing an icicle into place for its horn. The sculpture exploded in a shower of snow that blanketed Kevin. Ralph did two summersaults and came to a stop on his back laughing uproariously.

Meanwhile, up on the roof, Ralph’s little ride had disrupted the integrity of the snow cover. A big chunk slid off and landed in a pile on the ground. The vibrations caused a similar chunk on the other side to come loose.

Out front Pastor O’Donnell was just about to suggest to Katie that a dragon may not be the best sculpture for in front of a church when the dislodged snow cascaded down on his head. He stood blinking in shock as steam rose from the dissolving lump of snow in his cup of cocoa.

He looked down. His nice leather shoes were ruined.

Ghost Bells

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. Every Sunday the choir meets an hour before church to warm up. Last Sunday new choir member Audra Park arrived ten minutes late dragging her six-year-old son Tyler behind her.

“I’m sorry,” Audra told Choir Director Shane Reed. “We encountered a little problem on the drive over.”

“We saw a bank robbery,” Tyler said, “and had to help the police catch the criminals.”

“Really,” Shane asked. “You caught bank robbers?”

“Yeah, right,” Audra laughed. “Actually, we got stuck behind a fender bender. Tyler has a bit of an active imagination.”

“Of course,” Shane chuckled. “I was just playing along.” He quickly busied himself with some sheet music hoping nobody noticed the redness he could feel in his cheeks.

Audra sent Tyler down to the Sunday school rooms while she joined the choir for the rest of the warm-up.

After running through the hymns they were going to perform that morning, the choir headed back to the choir room to put on their robes. Shane watched Audra as she checked her long, silky black hair in the mirror.

Shane had met Audra when he was volunteering at the Normal food pantry on Christmas. Audra had been unemployed for several months and brought Tyler to the pantry for a Christmas dinner that was nicer than she could afford to provide at home. After hearing Audra sing carols Shane invited her to join the church choir. Audra’s lovely voice wasn’t the only reason he was interested in her. Shane was divorced.

Sixty-two year-old Del Winslow, a long time member of the choir, sidled up to Shane. “The new girl sure is pretty, isn’t she,” Del said.

“Uh, yeah, I guess so,” Shane replied.

“Single too, I understand.”

“Is she?”

“Why don’t you ask her out?”

“Um, well,” Shane stammered.

“Come on,” Del chuckled. “It’s clear you like her. And she obviously likes you, too.”

“Do you think so?”

“She’s been looking at you the same way you look at her. Go on, go ask her out.”

“Maybe after church,” Shane said.

Downstairs at about this time four-year-old Mary Boyer arrived at the classroom for the Guppies pre-school Sunday school class. She found Tyler building an elaborate city out of blocks in the corner. “Who are you?” she asked.

“My name’s Tyler,” he replied.

“How old are you?”

“Six.”

Mary put her hands on her hips. “You’re not supposed to be in this class. You’re too old.”

“I was just checking to see if the ghost was in here,” he told her.

“What ghost?”

“Didn’t you know? There’s a ghost in the church. My mom is a ghost hunter and I help her. That’s why we’re here. To catch the ghost. But it’s a secret so don’t tell anyone.”

“How do you catch a ghost?” Mary asked, her eyes wide.

“You throw salt on it,” Tyler said.

Just then Karen Winslow, the Guppies’ teacher and Del’s wife, noticed them. “There you are, Tyler,” she said. “You need to go to the Goldfish room across the hall.”

“Okay,” Tyler replied. Then he whispered to Mary, “Let me know if you hear the ghost. You can tell when it’s around because it carries a bell.”

“Gotcha,” Mary whispered back.

All during the church service Shane watched Audra and thought about what Del said. Once during the sermon Audra glanced over at him and Shane quickly looked away. His eyes met Del’s, who gave him a wink and a grin. Shane blushed.

After the service the congregation gathered in the Social Hall for coffee hour. Shane got a cup of coffee and a couple of cookies and found Audra. He made a little nervous small talk trying to work up the courage to ask her out. Del sauntered by and gave Shane an encouraging nudge in the back with his elbow.

Shane opened his mouth to suggest that he and Audra have dinner some time, but before he could speak choir member Celia Simmons trundled over. “Excuse me,” Celia said. “I have something to give Audra. I was cleaning out my pantry and found some canned fruit I’m not going to use. I thought you might like it.” Celia held out a plastic grocery bag.

“That’s not necessary,” Audra said, forcing a smile. She wished she hadn’t met Shane the way she did. She knew Celia meant well, but it was embarrassing having everyone think of her as a charity case.

“Nonsense,” Celia replied. “I know how expensive canned fruit is these days. Frankly, it’s a travesty. What these politicians are doing to our economy…”

“Thank you,” Audra said, grabbing the bag. She thought accepting the handout would be better than enduring a long political speech.

Meanwhile, across the room Mary found Tyler sitting on a couch drinking a cup of juice. “Look,” she said, holding out her hands. They were full of little salt packets. “I got these from the kitchen so I can help you catch the ghost.”

“Good work,” Tyler said. “We’d better open them up now so we’re ready when we find it.”

The two kids diligently tore open all the tiny packets and dumped the contents into their pockets. When they each had a pocket full of salt they set off to look for the ghost.

Audra might have successfully curtailed Celia’s rant about the economy, but Celia had simply shifted to a rant about the post office. Audra spotted Tyler heading out of the social hall with Mary. “Excuse me,” she said, “I think I better find out what my son is up to.”

Celia nodded and shifted her full attention to Shane. Shane watched Audra go down the hall, silently cursing himself for missing his opportunity.

And that’s when Del came to the rescue. “Shane,” he said with a wink, “I think Pastor O’Donnell was looking for you.”

“Thank you,” Shane said. He hurried after Audra as Del engaged Celia in a conversation about the sub-par performance of the city’s snowplows.

Tyler and Mary had decided the church library would be a good place to start their ghost hunt. “We should hide so we don’t scare it away,” Tyler said. Mary nodded. She wasn’t sure why the ghost would be scared of them, but Tyler was the expert and she didn’t want to expose her ignorance. The two kids crawled behind an overstuffed chair.

A few moments later Audra poked her head into the library and called out Tyler’s name.

Tyler peeked out from behind the chair. “Go away, Mom,” he said, “We’re hunting ghosts.”

At this point several things happened in quick succession. Shane had seen Audra go into the library and followed her. As he entered, his cell phone rang. His ringtone was a peal of bells, which he found ironically amusing. But Mary heard the bells and assumed the ghost had arrived. She jumped out from behind the chair and hurled a handful of salt toward the ringing. The salt hit Shane in the face, temporarily blinding him. He stumbled back, banging his head on the doorway.

“Shane,” Audra cried as he fell to his knees.

“I’m okay,” he assured her as he swiped at his eyes with his sleeve. “At least, I will be when I can see again.”

“Sorry Mr. Reed,” Mary said. “I thought you were the ghost.”

“Okay, enough playing,” Audra said. “There are no ghosts in the church.”

“Good. We must have chased it away,” Tyler declared.

Audra helped Shane to his feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he replied, trying to look suave despite the tears pouring down his cheeks.

“Were you looking for me?” She asked.

Shane glanced down at the two kids. “Um, no,” he lied. “I was just getting a book.”

“Oh. Okay,” Audra said. “Well, I think it’s time for Tyler and me to get home. Come on, kids.”

Audra took Tyler and Mary by the hand and led them back out to the Social Hall.

Shane went to the kitchen and wrapped some ice in a dishrag for the bump that was growing on the back of his head. Del found him there.

“So,” Del said. “I saw Audra leave. Did you ask her out?”

“Not exactly,” Shane said. “I was foiled by a ghost.”

Del just shook his head. He simply did not understand the younger generation.