A Little Friendly Advice

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. Michelle Tellum, the pretty new 28-year-old associate pastor, had just started dating a young man by the name of Ian Wells. Ian and Michelle had their first kiss in Ian’s car in the church parking lot just before service one Sunday morning. It was a wonderful kiss, marred only by the fact that it had been witnessed by seventy year-old Henrietta Miggins.

Michelle had little doubt Henrietta would not approve of the associate pastor making out in the church parking lot, but she held out hope that maybe Henrietta’s disapproval would go unspoken. That only showed how new Michelle was to the little church. Henrietta never let her disapproval of anything go unspoken.

The congregation of the church may have been a tad behind in their tithing; they may have been a bit slow to volunteer for mission projects; they may even have been fairly casual in regards to their attendance. But when it came to gossip they constituted an efficient and effective machine. By the end of the service the details of Michelle’s first kiss were familiar to everyone in the building and even a few who had skipped church that morning.

The one exception was Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell. He had missed the gossip partly because he was a tad busy leading the service, and partly because he was always a bit clueless. After the benediction, Henry and Michelle took up posts on either side of the sanctuary doors to greet the congregants as they exited.

Ian was the first out. Henry grabbed his hand in a hearty shake and said, “Hello there. Are you a first time visitor?”

“Second,” Ian said. “I’m a friend of Michelle’s.”

“Ah, well good to have you,” Henry said.

Ian turned to Michelle. “I’ll wait for you at coffee hour.”

Ian went out to the social hall and got a cup of coffee. He stood in the corner trying to look inconspicuous. Within seconds head usher Ralph Billings sidled up to him. “So,” Ralph said casually, “you’re Pastor Michelle’s new boyfriend, eh?”

“Ian Wells,” Ian said, extending his hand. “And I don’t know if I’d use the term boyfriend. We’ve only been out a couple times.”

“I see, I see,” Ralph said, nodding. “Let me give you a little friendly advice. We all love our pastor Michelle dearly. She’s a sweet young woman. And Normal’s a pretty small town if you get my drift.”

“Um, I’m not sure,” Ian said. “Is your drift some kind of threat?”

“Of course not,” Ralph laughed. “I’m just saying that Michelle is young and sweet and nobody here would like to see her get hurt. So just keep that in mind.”

Ian got Ralph’s drift.

Meanwhile, back at the sanctuary doors, Missy Moore, a heavy-set, 44 year-old woman hustled up to Michelle, ignored her outstretched hand, and gave her a hug. Missy was a hugger.

“That boyfriend of yours is a hunk!” Missy exclaimed.

“Well he’s not exactly my boyfriend yet…” Michelle started to explain in a low voice, eyeing the line behind Missy nervously.

“Nonsense! I can tell you two belong together like peanut butter and bacon!” Missy practically yelled.

Michelle was not sure whether that was a good thing, never having combined peanut butter and bacon.

“But,” Missy continued conspiratorially, “let me give you a little friendly advice. You need to put out some honey if you want to catch a fly.”

“Okay,” Michelle said.

“I’m talking about make-up!” Missy clarified. “I can give you some tips that will bring out your best features.”

Michelle glanced up at Missy’s heavy blue eye shadow and excessively tweezed brows. “Thanks,” Michelle said with fairly convincing sincerity. “We’ll have to get together sometime during the week.”

Missy clapped her hands excitedly and moved on.

Back in the social hall, Ian found himself in conversation with Shane Reed, the choir director. Shane was 32, divorced, and had a secret crush on Michelle. He regarded Ian with a big smile and cold eyes.

“So, you and Michelle,” Shane said.

“Yep,” Ian replied.

“Getting serious?”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

“I see,” Shane said. “Look, let me give you a little friendly advice. Michelle’s great and all, but dating a pastor is a pain. It’s always church, church, church, day and night. Boring!”

“Aren’t you the choir director?” Ian asked.

“Yeah. Anyway,” Shane continued, “you should know there are some real hotties over at the college and they can be pretty wild if you know what I mean. I’d think a guy like you would prefer a woman who’s a little more exciting.”

“So far Michelle’s been pretty exciting,” Ian replied.

“She has, huh.”

“Yep.”

“Well…just think about what I said. You know, about the college girls.” Shane gave Ian a nudge and a wink then went to get a donut.

To Michelle’s relief, the sanctuary had finally cleared out. But before she could go find Ian, Henry put a hand on her arm.

“So,” Henry said, “You’re dating that young man, are you?”

“Uh-huh,” Michelle sighed. Henry was her boss and she really didn’t want to have a conversation about her love life with him.

“Let me give you a little friendly advice,” the senior pastor said. “When you go out on dates, go to another town. Less chance of running into a parishioner that way. But just be aware, no matter where you go, you will run into a parishioner. They’re everywhere. It’s like they stalk you or something. Like sharks. Or polar bears. So, I guess my advice is, no matter where you go, just be careful how you behave.”

“Great, will do,” Michelle said.

“Oh,” Henry added, “and make sure you keep your social life separate from your pastoral duties. Don’t let church business interfere in the relationship.”

Back in the social hall Ian had been cornered by a nicely dressed woman of about fifty with a short, professional haircut. “I’m Jennifer O’Donnell,” the woman said. “Pastor O’Donnell’s wife. I understand you’re seeing Michelle.”

“Yep,” Ian sighed.

Jennifer laughed and gave him a knowing look as though they were both in on a private joke. Ian, however, could not figure out what that joke was. It made him uncomfortable.

“Let me give you a little friendly advice,” Jennifer said. “First of all, don’t let them sign you up for a bunch of stuff. When you’re dating a pastor everyone assumes you’ll volunteer for everything that needs doing around the church. You have the right to say no. Second, repeat names as often as you can so you remember them because everyone at the church is going to know yours. Third, no matter what Michelle says, realize church business will inevitably interfere with the relationship.”

Meanwhile, Michelle had finally made her way to the social hall and spotted Ian and Jennifer. She felt a knot in her stomach as she considered what that particular discussion might be about. She made a beeline for them – only to be intercepted by Katie O’Donnell, Henry and Jennifer’s fifteen year-old daughter.

“Your new boyfriend’s cute,” Katie gushed.

“Thanks,” Michelle replied, “but we’ve only been on a couple dates so I wouldn’t call him my boyfriend yet.”

“Oh,” Katie said. “Okay. Hey, can I ask you a question? Do you believe premarital sex is a sin?”

Michelle looked quickly around to see who might be listening. “Katie, I am not going to talk about my sex life with you!” she hissed.

Michelle started to move past the teen, but Katie said, “It’s just my boyfriend, Joe, he’s a junior and he wants us to get a hotel room for the junior prom.”

Michelle froze. She turned back to Katie. There were tiny tears rising in the girl’s eyes as she bit her lip nervously. Michelle glanced over at Ian. He met her gaze with a pleading look. Michelle shrugged an apology and took Katie’s arm.

“Okay,” she said to Katie. “Let’s go talk.”

Ian would just have to listen to Jennifer’s advice a while longer.

First Kiss

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. Michelle Tellum, the pretty, 28-year-old associate pastor, had just started dating a young man by the name of Ian Wells. Ian played guitar in a jazz band, and for their second date he invited Michelle to come hear him perform at a local tavern on Saturday night.

Michelle was really excited to hear Ian play. She knew that staying out late on a Saturday would have an impact on her functionality Sunday morning, but this particular weekend she was only doing supporting duties during the church service so she figured she could handle it.

Michelle was excited for another reason. Her first date with Ian had been over lunch and ended with a hug. She expected this date would end with a kiss. Michelle put a lot of stock in the first kiss. She believed it set the tone for the whole relationship. Michelle thought Ian was clever, dashingly handsome, and gave off just a hint of danger. Those ingredients led her to believe he would be an excellent kisser.

Ian, being a gentleman, picked Michelle up at her apartment. Which was slightly inconvenient because the band had to arrive at the bar several hours before their set to do a sound check. Michelle didn’t mind, though. She thought the whole process was fascinating. And it gave her and Ian time to chat as the bar slowly filled up with customers.

It also gave Michelle time to meet the rest of the band. She was painfully aware that they were sizing her up, but at least they were all polite about it. All, that is, except Ian’s roommate Rico, the band’s drummer, who nudged Ian and said “nice!” upon being introduced. Still, it could have been worse.

A little after 9:30 p.m. the band took the stage. They played a hot, Dixieland style of jazz. Michelle enjoyed the music a lot, though as the evening progressed she had to work hard not to yawn. She was not used to such late nights. Every few minutes Ian would steal a look in her direction and give her a little smile or wink. That would perk Michelle right up and turn her thoughts again to the impending first kiss.

When the band finally finished, Michelle waited patiently as they put away their instruments, hoping her fatigue wasn’t visible on her face. Ian eventually joined her and asked what she thought of the music. She waxed suitably rhapsodic and he was suitably modest in response.

Then they fell quiet. Ian took her hand. This was it, Michelle realized. The first kiss. She would have preferred it didn’t happen in a bar, but sometimes a girl’s got to be flexible. Ian leaned in…

And then Rico threw his arms around both of them. “Dude!” he yelled. “We were awesome tonight. Didn’t you think so, Ian’s girl?”

“Michelle,” Ian reminded him with obvious annoyance. It was clear Rico was drunk. Ian would later explain that was an occupational hazard when the bar provides the band with free drinks in lieu of pay.

“The show was fantastic,” Michelle said.

“I knew I liked you,” Rico slurred. “Ian has good taste.”

“Excuse me a moment,” Ian said and guided Rico away.

Michelle composed herself. She wasn’t going to let the interruption spoil the upcoming kiss.

Ian returned. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “Rico’s too drunk to drive and the other guys have already left. Can we swing by our place so I can drop him off and then I’ll take you home?”

“Sure,” Michelle said. She was a little annoyed, but at least this way the first kiss would be on her doorstep. The traditional aspect of the idea appealed to her.

However, on the way to Ian and Rico’s apartment Rico fell asleep. The upside was that they didn’t have to endure his babbling during the drive. The downside was they couldn’t fully rouse him when they got to the apartment and had to carry him in, one of Rico’s arms draped over each of their shoulders.

“Wait here and I’ll get him into bed,” Ian said when they reached the living room.

Michelle had a seat on the couch. The apartment was surprisingly clean and tastefully decorated considering two guys in their mid-20’s lived there. Michelle particularly admired the framed posters of classic jazz performances that lined the walls. She decided this wouldn’t be too bad a location for a first kiss either.

Ian returned after a few minutes. “Sorry about that,” he said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Some water, thanks.”

Ian got two glasses of water and sat down beside her. “Rico’s really not a bad guy most of the time.”

“Forget about it,” Michelle replied.

“Thanks for being cool,” Ian said and slipped his arm around her shoulders. She settled against him and let her eyes close, just enjoying his proximity and the sense that she might, indeed, be cool.

The next thing she knew, Ian was shaking her awake. “Mm,” she said groggily, “I must have fallen asleep.”

“So did I,” he told her. “It’s 10 a.m.”

Michelle sat bolt upright. She realized sunlight was streaming in through the windows. “I have to go home! I have to be at church at 10:30.”

“You’ll never make it. I’ll drive you straight there.”

She looked down at her spaghetti strap silk blouse. “I can’t wear this to church!” she exclaimed. “I’m a pastor!”

“Let me see what I can do,” he said and went into his room. Michelle found the bathroom and quickly cleaned herself up. She scrubbed the smeared make-up from her face and pulled her hair back in a ponytail. When she came out, Ian was waiting with a plain blue sweater.

“It’ll be big on you,” he said.

“It’ll work,” she replied and slid it on.

They raced to the church and arrived just after 10:20. Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. “Made it.”

“I’m really sorry,” Ian said. Michelle glanced over. He looked about as miserable as he possibly could.

“It’s as much my fault as yours,” she reassured him.

“Really?”

“Really.” She patted his hand. He closed his fingers around hers.

“Well, you still have eight minutes to kill,” he noted. Michelle smiled. Ian leaned over and kissed her.

It was better than she hoped. She didn’t even notice the seatbelt cutting into her shoulder as she pressed toward him.

“So can I see you again?” he asked.

“Uh huh,” she mumbled, feeling a little lightheaded.

“You better get inside.”

“Uh huh.” Her wits seemed to have abandoned her. He was a really good kisser.

She managed to get out of the car.

And that’s when she noticed seventy year-old Henrietta Miggins standing on the sidewalk, arms crossed, staring directly at her with a disapproving frown. As soon as their eyes met Henrietta turned and stalked inside the church.

“That isn’t good, is it?” Ian asked.

“Uh-uh,” she replied.

Michelle’s euphoria was quickly dissipating.

To be continued…

Sunscreen

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. The church has a softball team called the “Miracles” that plays in the Normal Interdenominational Summer Softball League. Del Winslow plays first base, the same position he played on his college intramural team. Of course Del’s college days are quite a few years and quite a few pounds behind him.

The softball season was approaching and choir director Shane Reed, who coached the team, discovered he had a hole to fill. The outfield was made up of Pastor O’Donnell, his daughter Katie and her friend Tabitha. Kevin Boyer pitched and Missy Moore was the catcher. Shane handled second, Thad Wheeling was at shortstop and the previous year Katie’s boyfriend Joe had played third. But Joe had bowed out this year because he had taken up another sport: stock car driving. Actually, it was a video game about stock car driving, but it occupied much of his weekends.

Shane was telling Del about his dilemma at coffee hour after church when Del’s daughter Carrie and her new husband, Carlos Lopez, joined them. Carlos and Carrie had moved in with Del and his wife, Karen, after the company the younger couple worked for went out of business. Del was not particularly pleased with the arrangement, but it didn’t look like it was going to change anytime soon. Carlos had decided to go back to school to get his MBA and Carrie had just discovered she was pregnant.

“I’ll play,” Carlos said, upon learning of the open slot. “I was on the company softball team back in Cincinnati.”

“Carlos!” Carrie exclaimed, “You don’t have time for softball. You have so much studying to do, not to mention getting ready for the baby.”

“She has a point,” Del said. He already saw more of Carlos than he wanted at home. He was looking forward to softball as a nice break from his domestic situation.

“But Sweetie,” Carlos protested to his bride, “it will be a good way to get some exercise. You don’t want me to get fat, do you?”

“It’s only one practice and one game a week,” Shane interjected hopefully. “And the season will be well over before you have your baby.

“Well… I guess,” Carrie said. “But you would have to promise to quit if it interferes with school.”

“Yes!” Carlos yelled and high-fived Shane. The two were grinning ear to ear. Carrie grimaced. Del forced a smile, but he kind of wished his daughter had stuck to her guns.

Shane had no such doubts as he put the team through their paces at the first practice. Carlos turned out to be not just a competent fielder, but also an excellent power hitter. Kevin was no slouch as a pitcher yet Carlos routinely pounded his throws over the low chain link fence that served as an outfield wall at the Normal Public Athletic Fields. The whole team was quietly beginning to think that, unlike last year, they might actually get more than one win this season.

The day of the first game arrived. Del waited impatiently for Carlos in the foyer. “Carlos,” he yelled, “come on. Time to go.”

“I’m ready,” Carlos said as he jogged downstairs.

Karen poked her head in from the living room. “Don’t forget sunscreen,” she said.

“It’s in my bag,” Del replied.

“Wait up,” Carrie called from the top of the stairs. She had a big purse slung over her shoulder and was wearing a floppy hat to keep the sun off her face.

“Where are you going, Sweetie?” Carlos asked.

“To the game,” Carrie replied. “You don’t expect me to sit home while you’re out having fun, do you?”

“But… you know you can’t play,” Carlos said carefully. “I mean you didn’t go to practice.”

“I’m not going to play, Dummy,” she told him. “I’m going to watch. That’s allowed, right?

Neither Carlos nor Del could think of a reason it wouldn’t be. The three of them piled into the car and headed for the field. “Did you put on sunscreen,” Carrie asked her husband.

“No,” Carlos replied.

“There’s some in my bag,” Del said with a chuckle. He was thinking his daughter was a lot like her mother. Carrie retrieved the lotion for Carlos.

“You want some?” Carlos asked Del.

“I’ll put it on when we get there,” he said.

The game – against a Baptist team called the Commandments – was a nail biter. Carrie had brought a book to read – she wasn’t really a fan of sports, she’d mostly gone along to make a point – but by the fourth inning the book sat forgotten beside her on the bleachers as she became more and more caught up in the action.

Going into the bottom of the final inning the Commandments were ahead 7-6 but the Miracles had one last chance at bat. Thad Wheeling was up first. After watching a ball, he took a good cut at the second pitch and popped one up to left field. Unfortunately the left fielder was on her toes and caught the ball for the Miracle’s first out.

Next came Kevin Boyer. Kevin managed to hit a nice tweener over the second baseman for a double, putting the tying run on second and bringing Carlos to the plate with Del on deck.

Del swung a pair of bats idly, loosening up his shoulders, as he watched Carlos step up to the plate. Carrie yelled encouragement from the stands. She couldn’t see what Del could – Carlos was blinking rapidly. Del realized Carlos was sweating sunscreen into his eyes.

Carlos managed to make contact with the first two pitches but sent them both foul, giving him two strikes. Del started warming up more seriously. It looked like it would be up to him to win this thing.

Then on the next pitch Carlos took a perfect swing and hit the ball a good ten yards out of the park.

The team went wild, everyone mobbing Carlos at home plate as he came around to score the winning run. Everyone, that is, except Del, who was busy putting the warm-up bats away. The game was over and he had just missed an opportunity to be a hero.

Carlos and the crowd of players congratulating him headed for the dugout where Del and Carrie were waiting. “We won!” Shane exclaimed. “We’re actually undefeated. Admittedly, we’ve only played one game, but still!”

“We should celebrate,” Carlos said. “Anyone want to join me for a beer?”

Del and Carrie simultaneously opened their mouths to object, then simultaneously closed them again as the rest of the team gave a hearty endorsement to Carlos’s plan.

They went to a nearby pizza place and spread out across several tables. Katie and Tabitha, being teenagers, got sodas and huddled on the other side of the room from away from the un-cool adults. Kevin, Shane, Thad and Carlos gathered around one table while Missy and Carrie settled at a smaller adjacent table. That left Del and Pastor O’Donnell at a table a short ways away. Though Del enjoyed the pastor’s company well enough, he felt a little put out at not being included with the younger men.

“First round is on me!” Carlos shouted. The guys at Carlos’s table cheered that news enthusiastically.

“He can’t afford to pay rent but he’s buying drinks,” Del grumbled to O’Donnell, who was preoccupied with the menu and simply grunted in reply.

Del watched as the waitress brought a pitcher of beer to the other table. Carlos filled the other men’s mugs. But Carrie leapt up to stop him before he could fill his own.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Carlos asked.

“Are you really going to drink beer in front of your pregnant wife who can’t?” she asked.

“But…everyone else is.”

“Good point. Go ahead, then.”

Carlos was inexperienced at marriage, but he sensed a trap. He glanced at the other men. They were all apparently fascinated by something going on out the window since none of them met his gaze. Carlos looked to see what was so interesting but the street outside was empty.

“Can you bring me a cup for soda,” Carlos called to the waitress meekly.

“Poor guy,” O’Donnell said through a mouthful of hot wing. “I remember how Jennifer was when she was pregnant with Katie.” Del just nodded thoughtfully.

Later that evening, Del poked his head into the kitchen where Carlos was studying at the breakfast table. “Come with me,” Del said.

“Where?” Carlos asked.

“Just come.”

Carlos followed Del out to the garage. Del pulled a cooler off the shelf and opened it. To Carlos’s surprise, it held a six-pack of beer surrounded by ice. Del tossed a beer to Carlos.

“Karen didn’t like me drinking around her when she was pregnant either,” Del said. “So I used to sneak out here to have a beer every once in a while.”

“Clever,” Carlos said as he took a hearty swig and savored the taste. “Do you maybe have a tip on how to keep Carrie from spending all our money on baby clothes?”

“Sorry,” Del said. “She’s just like her mother that way as well. Hey, that was quite a hit you made to end the game today.”

“It was pure luck. Sunscreen ran in my eyes and I couldn’t see a thing. I was swinging blind.”

“I know,” Del said. “That’s what was so impressive.”

“Hey, you’re looking a little pink,” Carlos observed. “Did you ever put sunscreen on?”

“Shut up,” Del replied.

And the two men spent the next couple hours drinking beer, talking sports, and hiding from their wives.

Bart the Belfry Bat

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. Like most churches, this one has a bell tower, though instead of a bell it contains speakers that broadcast a recording of bells. Recently the tower has acquired some new residents – a family of bats. And Bart is the most curious bat in this family.

Bart isn’t his real name of course. He has a bat name. But bats communicate at a pitch too high for people to hear which makes their names difficult to transcribe. So let’s just call him Bart.

When Bart awoke on the first night in his new home, he decided to check out the neighborhood. He skimmed along the eaves of the church, snapping up the occasional passing mosquito for breakfast.

He spotted a small glowing red light and headed over to investigate. It was Walter Tibble, the church’s organist, who had stepped outside to have a cigarette. Smoking was a vice Walter had picked up in college and never shaken. Not that he’d really tried all that hard. Walter was now forty-eight, tall and thin. He wandered around the lawn as he smoked, enjoying the solitude and quiet.

And then the automatic sprinklers came on.

Walter muttered, “gosh darn it” under his breath – cursing was not one of his vices – and scurried for the door, tossing his cigarette into the scraggly bushes growing along the wall. He knew it annoyed Pastor O’Donnell to find his butts there, but Walter didn’t care. He’d suggested they get one of those trashcans with an ash receptacle on top, but O’Donnell refused saying it might encourage others to smoke and, the pastor always had to add, smoking was a filthy habit. Walter decided if O’Donnell was going to be that way he could just deal with butts in his bushes.

Bart didn’t understand any of this, of course. Very few bats take up smoking. But Bart’s curiosity compelled him to follow Roger through the door and into the church.

Roger went down a hall into a room blazing with light. Being a bat, Bart didn’t much care for light so he broke off to explore on his own. But a few minutes later Bart’s sharp bat hearing picked up a lovely harmony coming from the bright room. He doubled back to check it out.

The music Bart heard was the choir at their regular Wednesday night rehearsal in the choir room. Bart flew through the door, gliding around the ceiling in gentle arcs in time to the music. After a couple of verses a plump woman spotted him and began making a noise that was louder and in a different key than the others. This was Missy Moore who was not a fan of bats.

Bart decided he wasn’t a fan of hers either. Not only was she ruining the lovely music, her screeching hurt his sensitive ears. And it seemed to Bart that the rest of the choir was just as annoyed at Missy’s harsh wail since they all stopped singing and began dashing chaotically around the room. It didn’t appear that the harmonious tunes were going to resume any time soon so Bart figured he might as well move on.

He found his way to the social hall, which was pleasantly big and shadowy. After exploring a bit he stopped for a rest in the rafters. He had seen all kinds of interesting things but he would need to focus on finding more food pretty soon. He was getting quite hungry.

Suddenly the lights came on, nearly blinding Bart. Del Winslow, a heavyset man in a choir robe, entered carrying a broom and looked around. Bart didn’t know what Del was up to and didn’t really care. He flew into the adjacent kitchen to get out of the light.

There Bart made a discovery that pleased his grumbling stomach. Someone had left a piece of cake on the counter during coffee hour the previous Sunday. Now of course bats don’t eat cake, but they do eat flies. The abandoned cake had attracted a whole swarm of those. What a nice housewarming gift, thought Bart as he enjoyed the insect buffet.

The door to the kitchen burst open and the light went on. Bart instinctively flew up to the ceiling. Del Winslow stomped in with his broom. Del spotted Bart and swung the broom at him. Bart darted away, indignant. This was hardly welcoming behavior!

Bart bobbed around the ceiling staying just out of reach of the flailing broom. Then one of Del’s swings struck the overhead light, knocking the plastic cover off and shattering the bulb. The room went dark again. Bart settled on the counter as Del made a hasty exit. That explained it, Bart thought. The big man wasn’t after Bart at all; he just hated the light too.

Bart finished off the last few flies who hadn’t beat it to safety in the commotion then decided he’d better go back outside where the hunting was better. He flew out into the social hall and saw Del seated on a couch catching his breath. Bart was careful to stay up near the ceiling where Del wouldn’t notice him. He was not quite sure what to make of the man just yet.

A couple of the windows were cracked open so Bart used one of them to make his exit. As he flew out, though, he smelled something funny. There was smoke rising from the bushes near the front door. Bart went to investigate.

It seemed Walter’s cigarette had landed on a dried leaf that was caught in the bush and ignited it. The small flame had grown hot enough to spread to some of the green leaves around it. Bart didn’t quite understand what fire was but he could feel the heat and his instincts told him it wasn’t good. Only he didn’t really know what to do about it.

Then he got an idea. Maybe the big man inside could take care of it.

Bart flew back in the window and buzzed Del’s head. It certainly got Del’s attention. Del leaped to his feet and chased after Bart who flew back out the window.

However Del didn’t follow. He simply closed the window and walked back toward the choir room. So Bart flew in through a different window and did a couple of loops around Del’s head. Del chased Bart back to the second window where Bart made his escape again. This time, though, Del paused before closing the window. He smelled something.

Del came out the front door to investigate and saw the small fire in the bush. He yelped and quickly beat the flames out with the broom. Then he cupped his hands and caught water from the sprinklers to thoroughly douse the bush. Once he was certain everything was out, he looked up into the night sky and said, “Thank you, bat. You might have just saved the church.”

Bart was perched on the roof above him and would have told Del he was quite welcome except of course Bart couldn’t speak English.

Del went back inside. A few moments later the music resumed in the choir room, drifting softly out to where Bart was gliding above the spray of the sprinklers hunting his food. He began bobbing back and forth in time to the music.

This was going to be a pretty good home, Bart thought.

Baby Fever

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, the primary topic of idle discussion around the church was newlywed Carrie Winslow’s pregnancy.

Carrie hadn’t intended for the news of her impending breeding to be public knowledge quite yet – she had only just discovered the fact herself – but her mother, Karen, found out during coffee hour one Sunday due to a morning sickness incident and became so excited she blurted it out to the entire congregation.

Del Winslow, Carrie’s father, was happy for his daughter, but that happiness was mixed with some frustration. Carrie and her husband Carlos had both lost their jobs when their company went bankrupt and were living with Del and Karen. The situation was supposed to be temporary, however the introduction of an infant into the equation threatened to change that.

The Friday evening after the news went public, Del walked in on Karen showing Carrie pastel colored paint samples. When he inquired what they were for, Karen said she figured they would turn Del’s den into a nursery when the baby came. When Del protested that she might have asked him about the idea first, Karen scoffed and responded, “All you ever do in there is sleep anyway.”

Yes, the temporary living arrangements were sounding a little less temporary than Del would have preferred.

Del was still sulking Sunday morning when the family arrived at church. Del was in the choir so he went to the choir room to warm up. Missy Moore greeted him as he entered with a cheery, “Good morning, Grandpa Winslow!”

Up until that moment Del’s mind had been primarily occupied by the steadily growing population of his household and the consequent loss of peace, quiet and the one room where he could nap undisturbed. Though of course he knew Carrie’s pregnancy meant he was going to be a grandparent, nobody had yet used the word “grandpa” out loud. It made him feel… what was the term…?

Old.

The fact that his own father had been younger than he was now when Carrie was born did not in any way ease the sensation of decrepitude. Of course once Del had time to adjust to the concept and certainly by the time the baby was born he would be thrilled with his new title. But that was all in the future. On this Sunday, Missy’s offhand and well-meant comment set in motion a series of events that would bring both physical and mental pain to Del.

It was perhaps this distraction that caused Del to come in at the wrong moment on one of the hymns during the service. It was an embarrassing mistake, uncharacteristic of Del. After the song ended, Celia Simmons looked back and whispered, “the mind is the first thing to go, Sweetie.”

Given Del’s current mental state he did not find the implications humorous. By the time coffee hour rolled around he was in a downright grumpy mood.

Meanwhile, Carrie was having her own issues with being the center of attention. It seemed everyone had advice on being pregnant and was anxious to convey it to her. The advice was often contradictory, sometimes slightly disgusting and once in a while completely terrifying. Not to mention that Carrie was finding it tougher to adapt to life without caffeine than to the idea she was going to be a mother. She missed the jolt of energy her daily double lattes provided.

There was no quick escape that morning for either Carrie or Del, because Del and Karen’s Bible study group was hosting coffee hour that week, which meant they had to help clean up. And since Carrie and Carlos rode with them, the younger couple had to stick around as well.

As coffee hour wound down, Del went to move the giant coffee urn to the kitchen. The enormous contraption was made of steel and dated from the 50’s.

“That’s still pretty full,” Ralph Billings said, “hang on and I’ll give you a hand.”

“I’ve got it,” Del said peevishly. He hoisted the urn up. Ralph was right; it must have weighed over forty pounds. But Del was determined to handle the chore himself. He headed toward the kitchen trying to keep his expression nonchalant.

But as he moved across the room, the urn seemed to grow heavier with every step. His shoulders moaned. His arms screamed. His fingers whined. He began to feel the urn slipping out of his grip. He moved faster, trying to reach the kitchen before he dropped the whole shebang, waddling with his knees bowed out as the urn slid down between his legs.

He reached the kitchen and summoned up a last burst of energy to hoist the urn onto the counter.

It didn’t move. Del’s back had seized up. It was all he could do to lower the urn to the floor.

Missy Moore poked her head in. “Are you okay?”

Hunched into the shape of a question mark, Del knew the jig was up. “My back…” he hissed.

Missy ran over and began massaging his lower back. Her fingers digging into his flesh was more painful than throwing it out in the first place. But after a few moments the muscles loosened and he could stand upright.

“Let’s get you out to the couch,” Missy said as she easily lifted the coffee urn onto the counter.

Missy took Del’s arm and led him back into the social hall. When Ralph spotted them he came rushing over to find out what happened.

“He threw his back out,” Missy said.

“Oh no,” Ralph said. “You just sit here and rest. We’ll finish cleaning up.”

Del slumped on the couch and watched the others working for a bit. He felt silly and embarrassed. Finally, when nobody was looking he slipped out the back door.

Del discovered Carrie sitting on the back steps with a morose expression. “What’s wrong, Sweetie?” he asked.

“I just needed to be alone for awhile,” she said. “Everybody keeps telling me all this stuff I have to do before the baby comes and what books to read and about natural child birth and drugs and how I need something called a Doula… I just don’t know if I’m ready for all this.”

“Forget them,” Del said. “You’re going to be a great parent.”

“Not as good as you and Mom.”

“Nonsense. You’ve always handled everything that’s been thrown at you with ease. Ever since you were a little girl.” Del sat down beside her.

“I remember when you were four I took you to the mall. I stopped to look at a telescope in a store window and next thing I knew you were gone. I looked everywhere for you, completely panicked. And then I found you sitting by the fountain lecturing a teenage boy who had tossed a gum wrapper on the ground about the evils of littering. That kid was terrified. I was terrified. And you weren’t scared at all.”

“That’s what you thought,” she said. “I remember that day. I figured I’d never see you again and I was going to have to live in the mall. That’s why I got so mad at that boy. He was messing up my new home.”

Del laughed. Carrie leaned her head on his shoulder. “You know, Daddy, I really wasn’t thrilled with the idea of moving back in with my parents at my age. But it will be nice to have you and mom around when the baby comes.”

Del put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. He was surprised to discover he was starting to warm up to this whole grandpa idea.

Ian Part II: The Communion Disaster

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. At five minutes before the start of service, choir director Shane Reed was seated in his place to the right side of the chancel behind organist Walter Tibble. Seated nearby were Senior Pastor Henry O’Donnell and the new Associate Pastor, Michelle Tellum.

Shane snuck a glance at Michelle every few seconds. Michelle was a pretty 28 year-old blonde with long eyelashes. She was wearing a liturgical robe because it was Communion Sunday and on her feet she had shiny, strappy black sandals with a low heel. Shane, 33 years old and divorced, found the look terribly sexy, which in turn made him feel guilty given where they were.

Michelle, meanwhile, was mentally preparing for her first time assisting with Communion in the little church. It was a simple process, really, but she found that the more serious ceremonies made her overly nervous. Periodically she would look out at the pews as the congregation filled them. One of those looks caused her churning stomach to do a back flip.

A dashingly handsome young man named Ian had just entered the church. Ian was not a regular congregant. Rather, Michelle had met him a few days before while on a hospital visit. They had flirted and Michelle felt a chemistry between them… until Ian discovered she was a pastor. Michelle found her job often defused chemical reactions between her and members of the opposite sex.

The real question was what was Ian doing slipping into the back pew this particular morning?

It seemed unlikely that he was looking for a new church and by pure coincidence showed up at hers. But it seemed equally unlikely that he was there specifically to see her considering how awkwardly their prior meeting had ended. She regretted not spending more time on her hair that morning, but was grateful she was wearing the stylish new sandals she’d bought at the mall the previous week.

Michelle made it through the bulk of the service trying and mostly failing not to look directly at Ian. Then Pastor O’Donnell finished his sermon and it was time for Communion.

Michelle was to serve the bread, which had been cut into small chunks and placed in a gold plated Communion bowl. She took the bowl from the altar and walked toward the front of the chancel where Pastor O’Donnell would bless it. She hoped Ian could see her fancy shoes from the back of the church.

Then those shoes played a nasty trick on her. The toe of the left one somehow managed to catch on the carpet, causing her to stumble. The entire congregation gasped as Michelle plunged forward. The Communion bowl flew from her hands, hit the ground, and scatted pieces of bread halfway up the aisle. Michelle landed flat on her stomach, banging her nose painfully on the floor.

Pastor O’Donnell and Shane ran to her aid. “Are you all right? Your nose is bleeding,” O’Donnell said. Shane retrieved a tissue and they tore off pieces to jam in her nostrils. Though her nose throbbed, the only serious damage was to Michelle’s dignity.

“Communion’s ruined!” she moaned quietly.

“Nonsense,” Pastor O’Donnell said, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. He knew how she felt. He’d had a similar accident in one of his prior appointments; only his involved the Communion cup and the replacement of the carpet in the Sanctuary. “We just need to get more bread.”

“I’ll do it,” Shane said, and hustled out of the church. Pastor O’Donnell helped Michelle back to her seat and then told the congregation they’d be changing the order of service and doing the final hymn before Communion. As everyone began singing, Michelle slumped behind the pulpit where Ian couldn’t see her.

Shane went to the closest place to get bread at 11:15 a.m. on a Sunday morning – the liquor store two blocks away. The only bread they had were hot dog buns, which Shane thought was odd since they didn’t seem to have any hot dogs for sale. He grabbed two bags and went to the counter, trying to ignore the customers staring at his choir robe.

That’s when he discovered he’d left his wallet in his jacket back in the choir room. He looked around at the handful of people who were purchasing alcohol on a Sunday morning. They did not look particularly friendly but he was desperate.

“Would anybody be willing to contribute a dollar or two so a church can do Communion?” he asked.

The customers shuffled and avoided his eyes. “Just take it,” the cashier grumbled behind him. “You’re making everyone uncomfortable.”

“I’ll bring the money this afternoon,” he promised and ran out of the store.

After service, Shane found Michelle skulking in a corner at the back of the Social Hall during coffee hour. “How’s your nose?” he asked.

“Okay,” Michelle said, her voice flat due to the tissue still jammed up her nostrils.

Shane noticed that she kept glancing nervously at the milling crowd. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “Everyone will have forgotten about your little tumble by next week.”

Michelle doubted that, but she was actually looking at Ian. She figured he would have bolted as soon as he could but somehow there he was on the other side of the room, sipping a cup of bad coffee as Missy Moore chatted away at him. Missy made it a point to greet all newcomers and find out everything she could about them in the interest of being welcoming. Somehow they always ended up learning more about her than the other way around.

Michelle was debating whether to go rescue Ian from Missy’s inquisition or find somewhere to hide until he left when she realized Shane had just asked her a question. “What was that?” she said.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

Shane went to the coffee table and Michelle took the opportunity to visit the ladies’ room to clean herself up. She removed the tissue from her nose, fixed her hair and touched up her make-up. When she emerged, she discovered Ian coming straight toward her. She froze. There was no avoiding him now.

“Hi,” he said. “I was just looking for the restroom.”

“Right there,” Michelle said, nodding toward the men’s room.

“Actually, I was just looking for an excuse to get away from that rather enthusiastic woman I was talking to.”

“Ah.”

“I didn’t realize services in your church were so entertaining,” Ian continued. “I’ll definitely have to come back.”

Michelle blushed, but mustered up the courage to seize the opening. “Why did you come today?” she asked.

“You left so fast when we met I didn’t get a chance to ask for your phone number,” he said. “But it was pretty easy to figure out which church was yours on the Internet. The church website could use some work, by the way.”

“I’ll look into that,” she promised.

“Anyway, can I buy you lunch?”

“Sure,” Michelle beamed.

“First you might want to…” he gestured to her nose.

She touched it with a finger and discovered it was bleeding again. “Right,” she said and went back into the bathroom.

Around the corner Shane stood with two cups of coffee. He’d heard the whole exchange. He dumped one of the cups in a nearby trashcan and quietly slipped away. It was no big deal. He needed to go back to the liquor store and pay for the hot dog buns anyway.