The Bass Wore Scales (17 page)

“
Are you saying we were singing like pigs?” asked Fred.

“
Yes,” I said. “Extremely porcinesque. They could hear the squealing all the way over at New Fellowship Baptist.”

“
Really?” said Elaine. “How could they hear us over their Electric Praise Team?”

“
Okay,” I said. “Let us not cast aspersions. We need to learn the Psalm, an offertory anthem, a communion anthem and a hymn descant. And that’s just for
this
Sunday. Then we need to start looking ahead. We’ll start with some easy stuff. Get out the Tallis
If Ye Love Me
.”

“
May I be in this new story?” asked Elaine. “I want to be a Sultry Siren.”

“
I already have a Sultry Siren,” I said.

“
How about the Other Woman? Can I be the Other Woman?”

“
No,” I said. “Now, everyone, look at measure eight.”

“
I want to be in it, too,” interrupted Marjorie. “I want to be the Hard-Drinking Bus Station Restroom Attendant With The Heart Of Gold.”

Everyone laughed, and my shoulders slumped. “Fine,” I said. “In the next one. If there
is
a next one.”

“
Dandy About Town,” said Mark Wells from the bass section. “I want to be the Dandy About Town.” There were more giggles from the sopranos. Dandy indeed. Mark hadn’t taken his baseball cap off since Reagan was in office.

“
I’ll see what I can do.”

* * *

The Ginger Cat has good food, if a bit too health-conscious for my tastes, though the coffee is always excellent and reason enough to be a steady patron. The Bear and Brew, St. Germaine’s new pizza establishment and micro-brewery, has much to recommend it, including great pizza and many extraordinary beers on tap. But for theological discussion and Reuben sandwiches, there was only one place to go—The Slab Café.

There was quite a convocation gathering. Noylene, Collette and Pete were in attendance, of course. Nancy and Dave as well as Meg, Brother Jimmy Kilroy and Rev. Francisco Garridos.

“
I think he’s saved,” said Noylene. “That’s what the Bible says and I believe it.”

“
It’s an interesting question,” said Pete. “Because, in order to be saved, wouldn’t Kokomo have to sin? He can’t be born into sin since, not being human, he wasn’t affected by the fall from grace. And he’s a gorilla. Gorilla’s can’t sin.”

“
Gorillas can sin if they know it’s wrong. Dr. Pelicane said that Kokomo tells lies sometimes. That’s a sin.”

“
A sin for us, maybe,” said Pete, “but I hardly think lying is a sin for a gorilla.”

“
What about lusting in his heart?” said Collette. “That’s sure a sin. And while you guys were asking him questions, he was looking at Noylene in that pink shirt and lusting in his heart. I saw it! I just didn’t want to say anything.”

“
Yes, I think we all saw it,” said Meg, with a laugh. “It was kind of hard to miss. And I thought that Pete was being especially courteous not to mention it.”

“
What? I missed it?” said Pete. “Dagnabbit! That would have been hilarious!”

“
What if he is saved?” said Nancy, weighing in. “Can a gorilla go to heaven? Are there any animals in heaven?”

“
There are no animals in heaven,” said Brother Kilroy, emphatically. “That’s a fact.”

“
You mean I won’t see my cat, Thumbelina, in heaven?” asked Collette. “I always thought I would.”

“
No pets,” said Brother Kilroy. “The Word of God is very clear. No animals in heaven.”

“
Not regular animals,” said Noylene. “But if Kokomo was saved, he could get in, I’ll bet.”

“
What about the other gorillas? What happens to them?” said Dave. “He doesn’t want to be the only gorilla in heaven. He’d have to hang around with the Seventh Day Adventists.”

“
I don’t understand,” said Rev. Garridos. “What are these Adventists?

“
It’s just one of Dave’s bad jokes,” said Nancy. “Pay no attention.”

“
Hey, I just thought of something,” said Pete. “Shouldn’t Kokomo get baptized? I thought you guys over at New Fellowship were big into baptizing?”

Noylene and Collette both nodded. “We’ve thought of that,” said Noylene.

“
I’m still praying about it,” said Brother Kilroy. “I’ve been back to see Kokomo a couple of times. I’ll admit that he is one amazing ape.”

“
If you decide to do it, you’ll have to do it soon,” said Pete. “Kokomo and Dr. P. are leaving the day after tomorrow.”

“
Maybe you could get another audience with Kokomo and give him a quick sprinkling,” I suggested. “While he isn’t looking.”

“
Sprinkling!” Brother Kilroy snorted. “What good would that do, other than get you wet? Sprinkling ain’t nothin’ but the devil’s washtub.”

Noylene traded glances with Collette but neither one said a word.

* * *

“
Hey, Hayden! Did you hear about the race last Sunday?” Billy Hixon called to me from atop his riding mower as Moosey and I walked from Pete’s boat back to my truck after another unsuccessful morning at the lake. Hixon’s Lawn Care had the Mountainview Cemetery account and Billy spent a lot of time on the ten manicured acres.

“
No, I didn’t hear. How did our boy do?”

“
He came in eighth. That’s his first top-ten finish. He’s very excited!”

“
That’s great, I guess. How will that affect us?”

“
I imagine that we’ll have a lot of tourists come up for the next blessing.”

“
What do you mean, the
next
blessing?”

“
Junior wants to get the car blessed again. You know, drivers are very superstitious. He wants Benny Dawkins, too. He says ‘the more Holy Smoke the better.’”

“
Did anyone ask our new priest?”

“
I haven’t yet. I just talked to Junior’s crew chief this morning, and they’re on their way to Bristol so they’re going to stop by tomorrow. I’m going to call Gaylen when I get finished here. By the way,” he added, “did you catch him?”

“
Catch who?” I asked.

“
Old Spiney. I spent one whole summer after that fish. I saw him a couple of times. Never did get him though.”

“
You saw Old Spiney?” Moosey asked. “How big is he?”

“
He’s about this big,” said Billy holding his hands shoulder width apart. “Probably weighs fifteen or twenty pounds by now. Good luck now, y’hear?” Billy started up his mower, engaged the blades and zipped down one of the rows of tombstones, grass clippings flying.

Chapter 10

Meg, Pete and I walked across the freshly-mown lawn of Sterling Park toward St. Barnabas. This was the first overcast day we’d had for several weeks, but the clouds hadn’t dampened the spirits of the crowd gathered in front of the church. It was a repeat of the service two weeks ago, with a few exceptions. The bishop had been replaced by Rev. Weatherall (arrayed in her finest vestments), the number of television cameras had been cut by more than half (there were only two that I could see), and the crowd that numbered a couple of hundred at the first Blessing of the Racecar now looked to be closer to five hundred, most of them wearing purple with a whole lot of number 17s showing up on shirts and baseball caps.

“
Where did all the people come from?” I asked Pete. “Did you put another ad in the paper?”

“
No. They just all showed up. A top-ten finish will start bringing the fans out. They didn’t care much about Junior Jameson a few weeks ago, but he’s God’s Messenger now.”

We watched Benny walk around the car, his thurible dancing on its chains, the smoke billowing around the car.

“
They came to watch the blessing?” asked Meg.

“
Yep,” answered Pete. “Then Junior will sign some autographs and head up to Bristol for the race. I’m thinking St. Barnabas is going to have quite a crowd on Sunday. The race isn’t until three o’clock, and every hotel and B and B are full all weekend. These people are probably not going to Bristol until after church.”

“
Why not?” I asked.

“
Why do sales of Tide go up every time No. 32 wins a race? Who knows? Maybe they want the whole St. Barnabas experience.”

We looked at the racecar and Junior Jameson standing proudly on the steps with Billy, Bev and Georgia. Gaylen was walking around the car with the olive branch, giving the blessing and sprinkling the car as the bishop had done. She finished and started heading up the steps when Junior came down and whispered something to her. She nodded, went back to the car and, when Junior removed the radiator cap, poured the rest of the water into the radiator.

“
Bless this car and grant that your servant Junior Jameson may use it in your service and for the good of this church and all your people. Amen,” said Gaylen, wrapping up the blessing. “Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” She turned and went back into the church followed by Billy, Bev, Georgia, and Benny. Junior, this time, stayed down by the car and started signing autographs.

* * *

Pete’s prediction was more than accurate. On Sunday morning, for the first time since Easter, St. Barnabas was packed. In fact, I didn’t remember the ushers putting chairs in the aisles on Easter, but they were certainly doing their best to accommodate the crowd on this particular morning. The St. Barnabas members all showed up to hear Gaylen Weatherall’s first sermon. The NASCAR crowd showed up to see what all the fuss was about and maybe pray Junior Jameson onto Victory Lane. Billy told me right before the service that he’d talked to Rev. Weatherall, and she’d agreed that, as long as racecar fever was raging, she’d be happy to include Junior Jameson and car number 17 in the Prayers of the People. “After all,” said Gaylen, “It’s our car. We might as well pray for it.”

The only thing missing from the service was Benny Dawkins. We didn’t usually have incense on a Sunday morning—not unless it was a feast day—but after church, it was decided that Benny would be invited to smoke up the church every Sunday for a while; at least until the crowds abated. Gaylen’s sermon was very good, and the choir did well. There wasn’t a Children’s Moment, but the children were invited to process out behind the crucifer during the second hymn and go to Children’s Church. They’d rejoin their families after the offertory just before communion. All things considered, it was a fine start. Many of the NASCAR fans stayed for coffee hour after church and expressed their appreciation and their intent to come back soon. At least as soon as Junior got the racecar blessed again.

“
You should see the offering plates!” said Billy. “They were overflowing!”

“
That may be true,” said Carol Sterling, “but it’s going to take a lot of full offering plates to add up to sixteen million dollars.”

“
There’s a difference,” said Billy. “This here’s the Lord’s money. Not the bank’s.”

“
What are we going to do next week?” asked Bev. “I mean, if Junior wins the race in Bristol.”

“
Hardly much chance of that,” said Meg. “He’s never won a race yet. Last week was the best he’s ever done.”