Page 44 of A Boy Called Lovesong

At the mention of music, the rest of the congregation gave a cheer, and a ripple of “Amens” and “Hallelujahs” went through the small crowd.

Lovesong turned to them with a grin, before his fingers took to the keys of the organ.

Instantly the bleak and bombastic tone of Reverend Jim’s sermon was flipped into a moment of happiness and joy as Lovesong started pounding out the gospel favorite, “This Little Light of Mine.”

Cries of “Praise Jesus” and “Play it, Lovesong” rang through the church as everyone started singing in loud, proud harmony, led by Maybelle who stood from her seat, holding onto her cane with one hand and holding her other hand up to the Lord as she led the song in a voice strong enough to accompany Lovesong’s organ playing.

People started clapping.

They rose from their seats.

And soon the entire congregation—with the exception of the woman with the silk fan—was on their feet, singing and rejoicing in the Lord.

Even Lovesong pushed his stool away and stood in front of his organ, belting out the chords and singing his heart out.

That was when the reverend saw me standing outside the door.

Immediately he stepped down from his pulpit, and as his flock continued singing, he made his way toward the door.

Quickly I picked up Chet and began hurrying back to Maybelle’s manor, stepping in one puddle after another in my haste to avoid any kind of encounter with the reverend until, from behind me, came his voice.

“Son, where are you going?”

I stopped in my tracks, my heart sinking as I slowly turned around.

There Reverend Jim stood in the doorway of the church, smiling at me while the joyous song continued behind him.

“I guess I’m tired,” I said. “I was about to head to bed.”

“Come, join us,” he said, waving me back to the church. “You can rest peacefully with the Lord once you’re dead, right? Come. Join us. Tell us why you’re here.”

I hesitated, then said, “I’m not the Devil, if that’s what you’re asking.”

He laughed jovially. “Oh son, you didn’t take offence at tonight’s sermon, did you? That wasn’t about you. It’s a constant reminder to my flock to keep the Devil at bay, that’s all. Come. Join us. Tell us why you came to Clara’s Crossing.”

Chet gave a low growl in my arms, his eyes fixed on the preacher.

I took a step back, not trusting him… or his church… or his God. “There’s nothing to tell. My car broke down, that’s all. I’ll be leaving as soon as it’s fixed.”

I knew I had more to do than that in Clara’s Crossing, but that was no business of his.

Without another word I turned and walked back down the path that led into Maybelle’s Manor.

As I walked through the door, I glanced back over my shoulder.

The reverend was still standing in the doorway of his church.

Still watching me.

Still smiling.

He gave a wave.

I didn’t wave back.

I didn’t want to join anyone for supper downstairs in the dining room, but I was starving, and after days on the road the smell of a homecooked meal lured me downstairs like a fly to a carnivorous plant.

Chet hadn’t eaten all day either, and he was about to bound recklessly down the grand staircase before I caught him and bundled the two of us into the grill-door elevator.

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