Preacher's Boy Read Free Page A

her collar. Well, what happened was it crept right up that stiff collar, teetered, and was about to get its balance and ruin all our fun. So I leaned over as if in prayer, and, delicate as a Civil War surgeon removing a bullet, put the edge of the fan under the spider's four lower legs and tipped it right down the back of Mrs. Weston's dress.
    At first, Mrs. Weston just twitched a bit, but before long she began wiggling like a caterpillar when you tickle it with a stick. And the way she wiggled and pawed, you had to figure that the creature had made its way around to the front and was exploring the territory on the other side of the world. I tried to control myself, but before I knew it, a livery-stable-sized snort just popped right out of my mouth. That got Willie going and only made matters worse.
    Suddenly I realized that there was silence where there should have been preaching. I felt it before I looked up. There standing at my elbow in the aisle was the tall form of my father. He wasn't saying a word. He
was just looking at me. Nobody ever sobered up as fast as I did that night. Pa never said a thing. He just marched back up the aisle, climbed the stairs to the platform, and took up preaching where he left off, leaving my face as red as the side of a new-painted barn. While every eye was on Pa, Mrs. Weston seized the opportunity to escape down the aisle and out the door.
    It doesn't make much sense to me even now, but that night I raced home—the manse is just up the hill behind the church—ran up two flights of stairs to Elliot's and my bedroom, and climbed under the quilt. I guess I was hoping if Pa didn't see me right off, he'd forget the whole incident. It was Elliot, not Pa, who came looking for me.
    "Oooo, Robbie, you in big trouble."
    I stuck my head under the pillow. I was in no mood to deal with Elliot.
    "You scare', Robbie?"
    "No, I am not scare'."
    "Den why you hidin'?"
    I threw back the covers and jumped out of bed. "I'm not hiding, you dummy! Just go away and leave me alone, will you?" He stood there with his mouth open, looking more dumb than ever, which made me yell all the louder. "Get outta here," I said. "Take your stupid self out of my sight!"
    "What is going on up here?" Pa was standing in the doorway. He's so tall, he has to stoop a little or bump his head on the doorjamb when he comes into our bedroom, which is under the eaves.
    I shut up yelling pretty quick. He was staring at me something fierce, but I didn't want him to think I
was as ashamed as I felt, so I made myself look him in the eyes.
    He turned toward Elliot. "Elliot," he said quietly, "please go downstairs. I need to talk to Robbie a minute."
    Elliot smiled his sweet silly smile, "'kay, Pa." Sometimes that smile could drive me near crazy.
    Pa waited until Elliot had clumped down the stairs. "Well, Robbie," he said, "I don't know where to begin."
    I just sniffed. I was still furious, though I couldn't have told you who I was mad at.
    He waited a minute, but when he realized I wasn't going to say anything, he went on. "I'm less concerned about your behavior in church than I am about your behavior just now toward your brother."
    I shrugged my shoulders. Nobody needed to tell me I shouldn't have yelled that way at Elliot. But I didn't want him saying so.
    I guess he realized that it wasn't the time for a lecture on Elliot. "As for your behavior in church—"
    "I don't know why I always got to go to church—"
    "Because you're a member of this family."
    "Nobody asked me about that."
    "Oh, Robbie—" I could tell he wanted to say more, but he was too exasperated and hurt to keep at it. "When you're ready to talk in a sensible fashion, I'll be in my study."
    I showed him. I never went downstairs until the next morning.

2. Preparing for the End of the Age
    N ONE OF THE CHURCH PEOPLE EVER SPOKE OF MY behavior that night. They would see me coming and shake their heads, but they'd done that for years. It was Pa's reputation that