A Sounding Brass (29 page)

They reached the concrete steps that wound up the river rock to the little park above. It overlooked the waterfall for which
the town was named and was a popular make-out spot for the teenage crowd. But at the end of the day, most people were at home
eating supper, and Ray and Claire had the cool, weed-scented twilight to themselves.

The steps were only wide enough for one person, so Claire had time to get her emotions under control before Ray saw the traces
of tears on her cheeks. At the overlook, she leaned on the parapet made out of round river stones. Ray leaned a hip on the
wall and followed her gaze out over the lake. “So, do you think Toby will follow through and show up at Gathering tonight?”

“I can’t imagine he wouldn’t. He strikes me as the kind of guy who stands behind what he says. Unlike certain people we know.”

“Well, certain people won’t be bothering the folks around here for a long time, if I have anything to say about it. Nice job
getting that check looked after.”

“It was easy. I called Margot at home. She connected to the bank interface from there and did it on the spot. Not without
a whole bunch of editorial comments on my religion and its tendency to harbor crooks, however.”

“It harbors decent, well-meaning people, too.”

“Yes, but those aren’t the ones who make headlines. Just imagine what the papers are going to say tomorrow.”

“There was already a news van outside the county jail when I left Pitchford last night. I suppose they picked it up on their
scanners.”

“It’s right that people know, despite what they’ll probably say about the Elect. I’m sure they’ll find a way to tie it back
to Phinehas, too. But with all the money that poured into the station, you’ve got to believe a lot of people in five counties
are going to feel they were involved.” She made a face. “I just hope no one feels inclined to file a lawsuit.”

“Let’s jump off that bridge when we get to it. In the meantime, Gathering is going to start in half an hour, right? This ought
to be interesting.”

Claire pushed away from the wall and walked down the footpath to the road at Ray’s side. “To start with, think of all the
gossip that will start up when we arrive together.”

“That going to bother you?” Again, he took her hand, and she marveled at the strength and calm assurance of the gesture. Here
she’d always thought holding hands was for teenagers.

“After spending a night in jail? We have more important things to think about now.”

“Good thing. I was starting to get a complex about it.” They crossed the road fronting the beach and walked up the block.
The Mission Hall was just on the other side of the cross street. “I figured you were ashamed of me or something.”

“Not ashamed.” Claire tried to find the words to explain what was obvious to an Elect girl and a mystery to an Outsider. “But
so overly concerned about appearances that it almost overshadowed the fact that you were trying to be my friend.” She shook
her head at herself. “Boy, were my priorities messed up.”

“Just your friend?”

But they had arrived at the hall, and in the flurry of shaking hands with people and finding a seat, Claire chose not to answer.
She was almost afraid to say anything aloud, and yet they had to discuss it. Ray was due to go back to Seattle in the morning
and knowing him, he’d want something settled between them.

Yet what could she say? She loved him, but her sister had loved Andrew, and look how that had turned out. There were no guarantees
in relationships.

There are no guarantees in religion, either.

Well, she’d argue that one. Maybe not religion as the Elect saw it—she’d proven that herself. But what about faith?

Both she and Ray had done something they’d never done before—stepped out into the dark with only the power of prayer, and
God had stayed faithful to His promise that he’d be with them. Could she make that a starting point? Could she and Ray both
make a new start, like a pair of babies just learning how to walk? After a lifetime of thinking she was a Christian and being
so concerned about every jot and tittle of the Elect law, it was a simple fact that she knew next to nothing about grace or
faith or the things that really mattered. She knew a lot about the Bible, but it had all been filtered through the Shepherds’
teachings to support the Elect way of life. Who knew what the Scriptures actually said? She’d be looking at them with new
eyes, the same as Ray.

She’d look at people differently, too, without that sense of superiority ingrained in a person who had been told they were
part of a peculiar people, chosen of God and singled out from the people of the world to bear His name. The fact was, she
was just as clumsy and in need of help from God as anyone on the street. There was nothing special about her. Her parents
were the special ones, to have put up with her for this long.

She needed to buff the layers of complacency off herself and discover what was really there underneath. The experience of
helping to capture Luke Fisher had shown her there was good, solid steel somewhere under there. She just had to find a way
to bring it out and get used to the person she could become if she gave herself a chance.

Maybe Ray wouldn’t love that person as much as he loved the one he saw now. But she had to find out. She had to try. With
God’s help and by earnestly seeking His will for her life, maybe she could do it. She’d start by standing on her own two feet
and moving to Seattle to be close to Ray. No more waiting for men to tell her what to do. The important thing was to find
out what God wanted her to do.

Owen Blanchard mounted the platform with his hymnbook in one hand. His step was slower than she remembered it, and she realized
suddenly that Owen, on whom many of the teenagers had had a crush when he’d first married Madeleine, was a middle-aged man.
She imagined that the last few days had probably been pretty hard on him, too.

He announced the hymn, and when they had sung it and Mark McNeill had given a prayer, Owen returned to the microphone.

“Folks,” he said in a voice that reflected his exhaustion and disappointment, “you’ve probably heard what has happened, but
in case you haven’t, let me tell you. Luke Fisher, whom we had welcomed among our number a few weeks ago, has been arrested
for fraud and embezzlement, among other things. He has been stealing the money that this community has been sending to KGHM
for the worship center.” A collective gasp went up. “I want to apologize publicly for vouching for him and putting him in
a position to defraud so many of you. If it hadn’t been for the skill and vigilance of our own Claire Montoya and Investigator
Ray Harper of the Organized Crime Task Force, Mark and I would have lost our homes and our folks would have had such a mountain
of debt and legal issues to deal with that it makes me sick to think about it. Claire especially has gone through the fire
on this one. Luke blamed all of his crimes on her, and she was arrested instead of him. I want to declare here and now that
she is innocent of all charges, and in fact, she used her knowledge to trace him and help bring him down.”

The audience murmured and craned their necks to see where Claire was sitting. She resisted the temptation to slouch and disappear,
and instead straightened her spine against the metal back of her chair.
Steel
, she reminded herself.

“Folks,” Owen went on, “it’s clear to me that the way we’re organized and led is flawed, and has been from the beginning.
It has made it all too easy for someone to come in and fool us with a golden statue, as it were, so that we’re blinded to
its feet of clay. Any flock needs leadership, it’s true, but it also needs accountability, openness, and corrected vision.
To speak to that, I’d like to invite Toby Henzig, assistant pastor at Hamilton Falls Community Church, up to the front.”

People buzzed and whispered as Toby made his way out of his row and up to the microphone.

“Lord, be with him,” Claire whispered, and next to her, Ray murmured, “Second that.” Whether they knew it or not, this was
a turning point for the Elect. Either they’d go forward in faith, or they’d go back to the old ways and pull the blanket of
tradition and habit over their heads, warding off the cold of the unknown in the only way they knew.

“Thanks, Owen.” Toby took a breath and spoke into the microphone. “Folks, I know you’re hurting and maybe even angry at what’s
been happening lately. It’s a lot of public scrutiny, and maybe some of you haven’t been treated very well by people who associate
you with Phinehas and now Luke. But folks, I’m here to tell you that not everyone is like that. There are those who have been
praying for you all, those who have been asking that God will send you comfort throughout all this. One of the ways He can
do that is for you to let the folks at Hamilton Falls Community help you. We’d like to invite you to our evening service tonight
at eight o’clock.

“Now, I know you’ve been told that churches other than the Elect are worldly and deceived. But you’ve been told that the Shepherds
are the anointed of God, too, and that turned out to be . . . well, an overstatement. We’re all on this planet together. Christ
died for all of us. We’re brothers and sisters in the body of believers, and folks, I’d like to see this false separation
between us dissolved.

“Humans are funny, aren’t they?” Toby went on with a smile as people looked at one another uncertainly. “They want to feel
special, like they have a lock on eternity that no one else has. But you know what? Only Christ has that. This is all about
each one of us as individuals and Jesus. That’s it. It’s not about this church or that church or who’s right and who’s deceived.
It’s about Jesus and what He did for us so that we could approach God clean and sinless.

“I want that for all of us, no matter what we call ourselves. Please come and join us. It’s only a few steps down the street.
We’re looking forward to meeting you and calling you our friends, too.”

Toby stepped down, shook Owen’s hand, and walked down the aisle and out the door. People moved restlessly in their chairs.
They looked at Owen. They looked at the door, standing open where Toby had left it.

Derrick Wilkinson stood up. “I don’t know about anyone else,” he announced defiantly, “but I think he’s right.”

“I do, too.” Rebecca’s voice rang out in the uncomfortable silence. She got to her feet, small and slender and indomitable.
“Derrick, will you escort an old lady down the street, please?”

They made their way out of their respective rows, and Derrick offered her his arm. Owen watched them go, then picked up his
Bible from his chair. “Ryan, Hannah,” he said to his children, “come on. We’re going, too.”

“Well, I’m not.” Elizabeth McNeill, Julia Malcolm’s mother, folded her arms and stayed planted in her chair, which groaned
in protest.

“I’ll tell you about it when I get home, then,” her husband, their former Elder, said as he stood to leave.

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open, and she gathered up her coat and handbag. “Mark, Owen, wait for me.” She rushed to catch him,
her son-in-law, and her grandchildren before they reached the parking lot and left without her.

Claire glanced at Ray as some of the people—including her parents—filed out, and some—including Alma Woods—stayed in their
seats, immobilized by the clash between tradition and discovery, between the known and the unknown. “Well?” she said.

“This is new to me.” His gaze held hers.

“I know. To me, too.”

“I’m probably not going to be very good at it.”

“It’s not a contest. And there’s plenty of help.”

“Can we do it together?”

She wasn’t sure if he was referring to learning to believe or learning to love. In the end, maybe it was the same thing.

“I’d like to try,” she said, and stood up. She held out her hand, and he stood and took it, looking down into her eyes.

“He said it was only a couple of steps.”

“Didn’t you know?” She grinned at him, her lower lip trembling just the tiniest bit. “All the best journeys start that way.”

His hand remained sure around hers as they walked outside, where the biggest harvest moon Claire had ever seen had begun to
rise, lighting the way before them.

READING GROUP GUIDE

1. Have you ever heard the expression
toxic church
? What do you think it means? Were the Elect a toxic church? Have you yourself ever been involved with a toxic church? If
so, what was your experience?

2. First Corinthians 13 tells us that without charity, no matter how eloquent a person may be, he or she becomes like a sounding
brass or a crashing cymbal. Did Luke Fisher convince the Elect that he was a “real” evangelist possessing the love of God?
Or does he? If so, how did he do it? Were the people simply starstruck?

3. When he introduced Luke to the congregation, Owen Blanchard urged them to “try the spirits and see if they are of God.”
With their history, were the Elect able to do this? How might you yourself do so?

4. Claire Montoya struggled with self-image issues. In a toxic church, many women find that decisions are made for them under
the guise of a “womanly example.” Do you think such practices are valid? What are the advantages and disadvantages of such
an example?

5. The toxic church can impose restrictions on its members in any aspect of their lives. Would you allow such restrictions
in your own church? Do you think it was reasonable for Claire to stay in Hamilton Falls at the Shepherd’s request when she
wanted to move away? If you had had her background, what would you have done?

6. At what point did Claire realize she had let the Elect leadership make all of her decisions for her? Do you consider the
needs of your church before making your own life decisions?

7. Claire’s relationship with her parents was strained because their views on living up to the church’s expectations differed
from hers. Is this reasonable or realistic? Do your own views on behavior and dress differ from those of your parents’ generation?

8. One of the themes of
A Sounding Brass
is that “faith comes by hearing.” Investigator Ray Harper was an auditory learner, as opposed to a visual learner. In what
way do you learn the best? Was Ray’s experience realistic?