DCLXVI-Six Hundred, Three Score & Six: Book One

CHAPTER 2

I

Michael LaBete snaps awake from the nightmare that haunts his sleep. It was about his mother and the night he was born, that much he is sure of. The dream clouds his mind and confuses his thoughts. Somehow, the images that seemed so real while his eyes were closed, now haze over with a greasy film that prevent closer scrutiny.
Michael stares at the heel of a shoe for several minutes before he remembers he is in a church.
He shifts his legs slightly. A thousand tiny pins seem to run from his toes into his groin. He tries to move his arm, which he used as a pillow, and finds that it is asleep as well. In the confines of his hiding place, beneath the pew, he is unable to move unless he draws attention to himself. He will have to wait until the service is over before he can crawl out undetected. Silently, he stares at the rows upon rows of legs which stretch out before him. They look like inverted stalks of corn in a field.
The sounds of a tinny old piano playing The Old Rugged Cross drift down to Michael's ears. It is a song he remembers from his youth, when he would sit beside his mother in the little country church they attended since his birth.
“God, she was lovely then, it felt so good to sit beside her.”
Sometimes he would get a strong urge to hug her and practically throw himself at her stomach. At other times he would just sit there and listen to her voice as she sang. To his tender young ears she sounded like an angel as she praised the Lord with all her heart.
This song used to be one his favorites but that was a long time ago.
Michael closes his eyes and hopes, or perhaps he prays, that this will soon be over. His legs ache from the hips down and he can't feel the fingers of his left hand.
The piano drifts into silence and a strong voice begins to beseech God to protect and keep them. In chorus, all the legs stand and before long they begin to file out of the church. Row after row of pews empty as they leave the building.
Slowly, with his one good arm, Michael painfully lifts his body and peers around the corner of the pew to see if any stragglers hang about. He can hear the preacher discuss a point of theology with a member of his congregation just outside the door.
Thinking he is alone, Michael stretches his sore muscles above his head, closes his eyes and relishes the freedom of open space.
“If you’d like to come outside” says the preacher “our church social is going to start any minute.”
Michael opens his eyes and a short husky man, a large black leather Bible cradled under his arm, stares at him from the door. He is dressed in a black suit, a neatly pressed white shirt and a blood red tie. Michael lowers his arms and smiles sheepishly.
“Thank you, I think I'll do that.” Michael replies. “When did you notice I was here?”
“Before the service started one of the ushers found you sleeping under the pew and pointed you out to me. I figured The Lord would wake you up for any parts he wanted you to hear. My name's James, James Reeves. I'm the pastor here.”
"Yeah, He did. I heard the last part of your sermon, I'm Matthew Hawthorn." Michael lies.
James extends his free hand and gives Michael three hearty shakes with a grip strong enough to crush walnuts.
"Come on." James urges with a wink."We better get out there before we have a riot on our hands. No one can eat until I say the blessing. It's one of the great things about being a pastor."
“I just might like this man of God.” Michael thinks.
"Your piano really needs to be tuned." Michael says.
"Oh you noticed that, eh?" replies the preacher with a smile. "I agree, but it’s not in our budget to pay someone to do it."
" I can do it." Michael volunteers.
"Okay, great! I'll introduce you to our music director and you can work out the details."
James Reeves leads Michael around the corner of the church. Under the shade of five medium-sized birch trees is a large table covered with several mismatched tablecloths.
The women stir big pots of food as the men make homemade ice cream. Children chase each other around the tables and teenagers stand and talk about the school year to come.
The scene emanates an aura of warmth and friendship that make Michael feel uneasy. He is not accustomed to this kind of atmosphere and feels out of place.
"Could I have your attention please." The noise fades and everyone except for the children at play turn and look at the preacher as he speaks with the young stranger at his side. “I’d like you all to meet Matthew. He'll be joining us this afternoon. Please make him feel welcome. Now, if everyone is ready, we'll thank our heavenly Father for this wondeful meal and get to the business of stuffing our faces."
A ripple of laughter runs through the congregation.
"And remember, when we're through and some of us old folks have had a chance to take a nap, there will be a song service in the auditorium, so please don't hurry off."
Across the churchyard Jennifer Reeves, the preacher's daughter, watches Michael with curious interest. She has seen his type on brief excursions into the city. His long unwashed hair, torn and faded jeans, T-shirt and denim jacket all spell one thing to Jennifer, T-R-O-U-B-L-E.
She knows this kind of boy is dangerous and should be avoided, but something about this one attracts her like a metal ball that rolls too close to a magnet.
Though she isn’t naive, Jennie is ignorant of the world outside the limits of a small town. She reads magazines, goes to movies, watches cable television (Although her father won't let her watch shows that he hasn't approved of beforehand.), but there is a limit to what she can get out of the media.
Certain things have to be experienced to be understood properly. Sex is one of those things. Her parents have no idea their little baby girl is no longer a virgin. Jennie hasn't been in that category since her sixteenth birthday two years ago.
After her first experience, she decided it wasn't worth the risk of pregnancy or disease to get involved with any of the local prospects. Most of them are redneck farm boys or high school football jocks who handle a football with more tenderness than their girlfriends.
She wants to “make love” not just satisfy a biological urge that grips her in some guy's backseat. So what if the guys call her a bitch? She is going to save herself until the right man comes along.
Jennifer doesn't regret the loss of her virginity, she found out what she wanted to know, and that was it. Perhaps if it had been the end-all-be-all sexual experience of her life, she may have developed a different attitude. The truth is, it was rather uncomfortable and was over before it started.
She hopes that, someday, a man will sweep her off her feet and carry her into the sunset. Jennie knows this is wishful thinking, but she still wants it to come true.
As she stands with her friends and watches this outragous young man who broke into their church the night before, she notices something about his eyes that are incongruous with the rest of his appearance. Perhaps he is trying to hide something behind his rough exterior, some inner conflict that he can't or doesn't want to face.
Jennie excuses herself from her friends and walks nonchalantly towards her father and the stranger.
"Oh, Jennie." Her father says, just as she hoped he would. "This is Matthew Hawthorn. It looks like he'll be staying with us for a few days. I hope that's okay with you."
"Hi, Matthew, nice to meet you.” she nods in Michael’s direction.
“Have you asked mother?" Jennie says as she looks into Michael's bright blue eyes unable to look away.
“No,” her father replies, “do you think she'll mind? He's agreed to work for room and board and tune the church piano.”
"That's great, it's about time someone tunes that old thing." Jennie says, her eyes still fixed upon the azure pools of Michael's eyes. She knows if she stares much longer she’ll be trapped in them forever.
“I’ll go call Mom and ask if he can stay.” She says.
"It’s a pleasure meeting you." Michael grins as she moves past him.
Nothing will come out of her mouth, so Jennifer hurries off to use the phone in the church office, thankful she has found an excuse to escape.
"You have a very lovely daughter. Is she always this talkative?" Michael smirks as he turns to face the preacher.
“Actually, I've never seen her so speechless. I think you may have scared her, son.” Pastor Reeves laughs with a deep hearty chuckle that can be heard from across the yard.
"Say, did any of you guys notice the police cars out by the road this morning?" says one of the men in the quorum.
"Nope" Pastor Reeves replies." I was busy in the office, what was the ruckus?"
Michael looks away and catches Jennie's eye before she disappears inside the church. She pauses in the doorway captivated by his stare. He intrigues her, it’s something she has never felt for another guy.

II

Jennie has been unable to find him anywhere since lunch ended thirty minutes ago.
As she passes the open door of the church, she hears the ting-ting-ting of the piano and remembers he was going to tune it. She steps inside and finds him on the piano bench. He doesn't seem to notice her presense.
“Hi” she says, as she walks up the aisle. "That old thing hasn't been tuned in years. It sounds like a chicken caught in a fence."
Michael looks at her and chuckles.
"This is a fine piano, it just needs some attention. They’re a lot like people. If you neglect them they become decrepit and useless, but with a lot of care and maintenance they last a long, long time."
"Wow, I've never heard anyone be so philosophical about pianos before. Are you a musician?"
"I used to be with a band for a while, but I had to move on." Michael replies.
"What instrument do you play?" asks Jennie as she leans on the piano.
"All of them." Michael answers with a shrug.
"All of them? You mean you can play any instrument in the world?"
"Well, I'm not saying I’ve played all of them, but I do have a gift for music. I pick up an instrument and I can play it. Don't ask me how, I have no idea, it's just something I've always been able to do."
"Gee, that's amazing. Play something for me."
"Not yet, I need to finish tuning it first." Michael smiles.
Jennie sits on a pew in the front row and watches him tune the old piano. Each note slowly takes on a resonance and tone that is pleasant to hear. As he kindles the rebirth of the piano, she can tell he is an excellent pianist.
When he is finished, Michael puts the tools in the box he borrowed from a generous member of the congregation and goes back to the piano. Jennie sits down beside him on the bench.
As his fingers lightly touch the keys, he smiles and asks. "What would you like to hear?"
"I don't know" Jennie replies.
He laces his fingers together, pops his knuckles and begins to play. His hands seem to glide over the keys and bring forth sounds the old piano hasn't been capable of in years. Jennie recognizes the tune immediately.
"Cool! That's gotta be my all time favorite song." She exclaimes. Michael already knew that and continues to play.
People begin to drift into the church, slowly at first, but by the time he is finished playing the first song, half of the auditorium is full. When they applaud, Michael and Jennie look up startled, unaware they have an audience.
Pastor Reeves, standing at the pulpit, claps the loudest.
"Son, I never thought I'd hear that old piano sound so good. Play us another song."
"Well, sir, I'm afraid I don't know any religious songs." Michael lies. He knows several, but doesn't feel comfortable when he plays them. They remind him of his mother.
"Okay, I'm sure the Lord will be pleased with whatever selection you choose, Amen?" James Reeves slaps the podium for emphasis and looks out into the congregation for support. Several parishioners shout “Hallelujah” and “Amen.”
"Alright, This is kind of a religious song." Michael says as he looks at Jennie. She smiles at him, beaming with excitement her father notices and labels as infatuation. It worries him but he trusts her judgement and, besides, he likes the young man too.
As the notes to Spirit in the Sky echo through the church, the rest of the congregation enter the auditorium. Hands begin to clap, feet tap, and even Pastor Reeves waves his hand in time with the music.
Michael sings with a clear and smooth voice and has his audience in a state of rapture. Inwardly he is pleased that he has ingratiated himself into the lives of these people so easily.
“They’re no more than sheep. Easy pickings for someone like you.” A tiny voice whispers in the back of his mind.
The service lasts well after dark and his hands ache terribly. Jennie sat at his side the entire time astounded by his consummate abilities. If she hadn't been there, he would have quit an hour ago.
As everyone stands to leave he leans close to Jennie and murmurs. "Man, I could use a smoke right now. Know where I can get one?"
"Yeah, come with me, let's go outside."
"Excellent, I'm right with ya." Michael replies, as he follows Jennie through the crowd. Many of the members compliment him on his talent and bless him in the name of God.
Jennie stops to whisper something to a friend. The guy looks at Michael, grins and starts for the door. Jenny follows him, and Michael follows her.
Outside they walk to a dark side of the church, away from the crowd, and Jennie’s friend pulls a pack of Marlboros from his boot.
"Hey dude, you’re one helluva piano player. My name’s Billy Ray Pucket, but my friends call me Billy. Where did you learn to play like that? Yer awesome!" he says as he holds out the pack.
Michael reaches for a cigarette. Jennie grabs one from the pack before Billy can return them to his hiding place.
"Just comes naturally." Michael replies, as he cups his hands over the yellow Bic lighter Billy extends.
"No shit?" Billy exclaims. "Dude, I'd give my right hand to play like that."
"Billy, if you gave your right hand you couldn't play like that." Michael says sarcastically and smirks in the dark at the ignorance of the statement.
Billy chuckles. "Yeah, I guess you're right there. Say, dude, how long you gonna be around? Maybe we could get together and wail. I play the guitar myself, and I hope to start a band one of these days. Hey, maybe you'd like to join up, whataya say?"
Michael inhales a long drag from his cigarette. Smoke fills his lungs and soothes his frazzled nerves.
"I doubt I'll be here that long Billy, but I wouldn't mind getting together for a jam session with you. Are you any good?"
"Probably not in your league, but around here I'm pretty good."
"Pretty good?" Jennie exclaims. "Billy, you should give yourself more credit. You're an excellent guitarist.”
Billy Ray Pucket blushs, thankful that it can’t be seen in the darkness. "Aw, Jennie, you always say shit like that."
"Cause it's true. Billy is real good. He won a scholarship to Juliard."
"Juliard, huh?" Michael says. "That's pretty impressive."
"Yeah, but my dad won't let me go. He says he doesn't want me to waste time with music when there's serious work to be done on the ranch. So, I have to stay here and help him." says Billy as he looks down at his boots.
"Parent's suck sometimes, don't they Billy?" Michael asks.
"Yeah, they do." Billy replies.
Michael can hear the anger and regret in the boy's voice.
"Jennie wants to be a dancer, she sings too, but her dad won't let her." Billy says to divert attention away from himself.
"Billy Ray!" snaps Jennie as she kicks him in the shin.
"Ow." Billy yelps. "That hurt Jennie, why'd you do that for?"
"It was supposed to hurt, ya big-mouth!" Jennie replies venomously.
Jennie throws the butt of her cigarette down walks off embarrassed.
"Shit, Matt, I am never gonna understand women." Billy says.
"Who does, Billy?' Michael replies. "They’re from a different planet than we are."
Billy laughs, and extinguishes his cigarette with his boot "Well, let's get together and play."
"Sure thing," Michael says. "I'm staying at the pastor's place for a few days. You know the number?"
"Know the number? We're fuckin’ neighbors, dude." Billy smiles and sticks out his hand. “I’ll stop by one night this week.”
Michael shakes it and they walk back to the front of the church.
Most of the people are gone, but a few stand outside talking. They share gossip and stories about the past week and plans for the one ahead.
Michael stands silently and contemplates the near future.
How long will it take them to find me again? How long will I be safe here? How long before I have to move on? Then his thoughts turn suddenly and unexpectedly to Jennie.
He can't explain how he feels about her or why he feels anything at all. Maybe it’s her aura that draws him to her, he isn't sure, but when the time comes to leave again, can he?
No woman, much less a girl, has ever prevented him from leaving when the time came. What is so different about this one? He isn't in love with her, he can’t be. Love is something alien to Michael, he hasn't felt that emotion since his mother died when he was twelve.
“I just met this girl, there’s no way it can be love.” he mutters to himself.
No way in hell.