Transcontinental (39 page)

“Let me take you back in time.
Way
back. Back before you were born, before your parents, before your parents’ great-great-grandparents, before the virgin Mary birthed the Lord Christ, even. Babylon’s King, Nebuchadnezzar the second, captured Jerusalem, deposed King Jehoiakim, and exiled many Israelites into captivity, causing mass rioting and rebellion. One of the exiled was Ezekiel, a man of twenty-five, set to become a priest in the Solomon Temple.

“Now, you can imagine how he must’ve felt: frightened, depressed, bitter, even betrayed, perhaps. But God had
not
betrayed him. God had a plan for him, as he does everyone. Sure enough, one day the heavens parted, and Ezekiel witnessed visions of God upon a chariot, guided by cherubs. He later prophesied that Jerusalem and the Solomon Temple would be destroyed. Few believed him, a couple years later, Nebuchadnezzar grew tired of the rebellion, and demolished Jerusalem and its temple, just as Ezekiel had predicted. ‘Told ya so’ isn’t much consolation at that point, huh?”

With that joke, the tepid atmosphere lightened. The sermon was certainly living up to its boring stereotype, as far as Leroy was concerned.

“While exiled, Ezekiel was chosen by God as a prophet to explain to the hopeless, helpless Israelites
why
they had been banished to Babylon—as punishment for their worship of idols and false gods. However, it was also a chance for redemption in the eyes of the Lord. But how does one enliven a deadened people? God subjected Ezekiel to a vision to answer that question.

”In this vision, the hand of God placed Ezekiel in a great valley covered with the bones of slain armies, left to rot for eternity. God asked Ezekiel to study the bones, then asked him, ‘Son of man, can these dry bones live again?’ In his wisdom, Ezekiel responded ‘O Lord God, thou knowest whether these dry bones can live.’ He knew no matter how dire the situation, only God could determine the ultimate fate. Then the Lord bade Ezekiel to preach to the bones, and as he did, the sound of rolling thunder swept through the valley, as one by one the bones connected into skeletons, then grew flesh. But, lacking the breath of the Holy Spirit, they laid lifeless. God ordered Ezekiel to speak to the wind, and as he did, the bodies began to breathe. When Ezekiel told of this vision to the captive Israelites, their hearts were lifted anew, and they desired to return to their homeland, faith and spirit intact.”

Silence rang throughout the pews.

“Quite a story, huh?”

People nodded and uttered their agreement.

“All of that is to say one thing: I am Ezekiel.” He said it as if it were the most natural fact he could muster, to a cold hush. “I am Ezekiel! I look out at my people, and I see only dead, dry bones, lacking life and spirit.” Bishop Wood, sweat forming on his creased brow, cast a piercing gaze over the churchgoers. “I have
felt
the hand of God.
He
has
strengthened
me, that I may strengthen my people,” he said, backhanding his open palm in emphasis. “Too often, people are afraid to get down and dirty, to truly
see
the dry bones. This is why SpiritWood exists. The Lord has placed you all with me to tell you that you’ve come here as
punishment
! Punishment for your disgusting, sinful ways.”

Leroy was as uncomfortable as the others looked.

“God knows what you’ve done, rest assured. And he
weeps
for it. For you. For who you are, and who you could be. That is why I’m here today, brothers and sisters—to spread the message of God. I’m here to tell you that you must
REPENT
!” The Bishop’s face shook in his fervor, and he seemed to be staring right at Leroy. “Without doing so, you’ll never be anything but a dry bone in death’s infertile valley, for
only
through repentance may you unlock your heart for God to get in and guide you to a blissful eternity!”

“Amen!” a man shouted, followed by a few others.

So much for boring. Leroy shifted in his seat.

“So to all of you this morning who lack the spiritual connection to God, I say: O ye dry bones, hear the word of the LORD! For He saith, ‘Behold, I will cause breath to enter into you, and ye shall live! And I will lay sinews upon you, and will bring up flesh upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you! And ye shall live; and ye shall know that I am the
LORD
!’”

Men and women and some of the kids shot to their feet amid rapturous applause and passionate cries. Next to Leroy, Clayvon slumped in his seat, arms crossed, looking off with a scowl.

Shouting above the uproar, Bishop Wood said “Now I
know
we have sinners in here, this morning. I
know
, because we are
all
sinners, sometimes. For this reason, I will dedicate the rest of our time today to those whose bones are dry or drying, those in need of repentance. Whether it’s your first time ever, your first time this year, or your first time this week, now is the time.”

Leroy crossed his arms.

“The first person I need up here is Marcus Jackson.”

Gentle murmurs swept through the room. Oblivious, Leroy looked around, until Clayvon elbowed him and they locked eyes.

“Go on!”

Leroy glanced back at the Bishop, who was again looking right at him. As he stood, his vision danced. In a light-headed blur, he squeezed his way past the other kids sitting in the pew, then over to the stage and up the steps.

The Bishop put his arm around Leroy. “This is Marcus Jackson. He’s the newest member of our family. He doesn’t know if he believes in God.”

Men and women booed and jeered, but Leroy didn’t hear it; he was lost in the ocean of faces in front of him. Some he recognized, but most he didn’t. So many were contorted and angry. They didn’t even know him.

“Now, now. A great deal of you were once in his position. Plenty of you were far worse! Beggars, thieves, homosexuals. This poor boy simply never thought about it. However, I believe the time has come for cogitation.”

Some of the church-goers’ anger had subsided, replaced by shouts of encouragement. Leroy found Jemisha toward the back of the room. She mouthed words to him, but he couldn’t make them out. Then, she let her jaw hang open and pushed it closed with her hand, and it clicked. He forced his open mouth shut, feeling a familiar warm rush of embarrassment.

“Marcus Jackson! I ask you: in your heart, do you
believe
in God?”

Bishop Wood handed Leroy the microphone. He watched it shake in his hand, looked out at the hopeful faces, and nodded, swallowing hard.

“I can’t hear you!” The Bishop was loud enough unamplified.

“Yes.” So many eyes, all trained on him.

“God might’ve heard that, but we sure didn’t!”

“Yes!”

“Yes
what
?”

“Yes, I believe in God!”

“Are you ready to denounce your
sinful
ways before an all-knowing God in His holy house? To reform yourself, cleanse your worldly body of impurity, and seek forgiveness for your transgressions?”

“Yes!” he said, on autopilot.

“Good. Then we’re ready to begin. Repeat after me: I acknowledge in my godly sorrow that I am a sinner in need of forgiveness.”

“I acknowledge in my godly sorrow I’m a sinner in need of forgiveness.”

“I believe that Jesus died for the forgiveness of my sins on the cross.”

“I believe Jesus died for the forgiveness of my sins on the cross.”

“I confess Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior.”

“I confess Jesus as my personal Lord and Savior.”

“Not too bad, huh? Marcus Jackson, you are now converted.”

Cheers from the congregation filled the air. The faces that had so recently been hostile were now warm, welcoming, even comforting. As the pressure wore off, a smile came to Leroy’s face.

“Now comes the hard part. Confession. On your knees.”

His smile faded as the Bishop grasped his shoulders and shoved, buckling his knees and dropping him to the floor, sending jolts of pain up each leg.

Stammering, Leroy squeaked “Right here? I thought that was private.”

“Why, of course! How are we to know if you’re truly afflicted by godly sorrow if the congregation—your spiritual family—can’t bear witness to it for themselves? And please, speak into the microphone.”

This was too much. He was overloaded, overwhelmed, overexposed. If this was the way God, or SpiritWood, operated, he wanted out.

“I find it’s easiest to start small—nabbed a candy bar, stole a twenty from mom, made fun of the cripple at school—and move up from there.”

So it was really happening. His brain felt like honeycomb crawling with bees. He tried to pick one of the many memories stuffed away in the hexagonal cells of his thoughts, but there were so many faces staring at him, eagerly awaiting a juicy anecdote. He sought out Jemisha’s face again, but when he found her, all she had for him was a regretful shrug.

“I… I cut the lunch line a few times.” It was all he could think of on the spot, but judging by the congregation’s scoffs and groans, it wasn’t enough. “Also, I stole some bags of gummies. And a cookie, once. Always felt bad ‘cause they made them fresh and sold them for charity.”

“Come on, now,” a man shouted. “That ain’t no confession!”

“Wendell. If it troubles the boy, he is right to confess it,” the Bishop said. “Stealing is a sin, whether it’s a cookie or a car. Continue, Marcus.”

He felt himself blush at his next thought, but he had to say
something
. “Sometimes at night, I used to watch channel ninety-eight.”

“And what was on that channel?”

Leroy filled his lungs and steeled himself. “Sex. It was all scrambled, like I wasn’t supposed to get the channel, but sometimes I could make out body parts. And there was sound, too.”

 
“The temptations of Satan and his henchmen are great and many. Lust is one of his most powerful tools, but you must not let it pervert your innocence. Sex is not recreation; sex is procreation,” he admonished. “Go on.”

As embarrassing as it was to confess these ‘transgressions,’ as the Bishop had called them, it did sort of seem to lighten his load. He recalled how he’d felt after airing his thoughts to Ant — that was it! Leroy had just the lurid story the congregation was looking for. He felt bad exploiting what’d happened to Ant—what he’d done to Ant—but the situation required it.

“I might’ve got my only friend killed.”

Gasps and whispers cut the silence. Even the Bishop was at a loss.

“Yeah. We were traveling. He wanted to drive. I refused, so we caught a train to Topeka.” Leroy swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure if his voice was shaking because he was nervous or because he was guilty, but he definitely felt both. “There was a bull—a railroad cop—who didn’t like that. My friend distracted him so I could get away. I had to watch the cop beat my friend’s face in.” It took him a moment to continue. “The sound it made, that wet crunch… I can’t get it out of my head.” He shuddered, staring hard at nothing. “I just wish I could go back and do it again. I’ll never forget the way that cop laughed as they took my friend away on a stretcher. I tried to find him at the hospital, but I couldn’t. I never saw him again. That’s when I met Pastor Mercer and came here.”

“That’s as gut-wrenching a tale as I’ve ever heard, Marcus.”

As he reeled himself in, returning to reality, he felt a lump in his throat. Ant really was the only true friend he’d ever had, strange though it may be. And it
was
his fault that Ant was gone. He gritted his teeth.

“Your spiritual family has heard your confessions.” Bishop Wood turned to the congregation. “What of Marcus Jackson? Is he indeed sorrowful?”

The church-goers clapped and cheered their approval, if mildly.

“And is that sorrow of a godly nature?”

Again, the congregation cheered.

“And do
you
feel your sorrow is of a godly nature?”

“Yes. God, yes.” Leroy noticed Pastor Mercer leaning against the back wall, giving a thumbs-up. A moment later, the Pastor dropped his hand.

A faint smirk found the Bishop’s lips. “I believe we have come to a consensus. Well done, Marcus. You may return to your seat.”

He stood and hurried down the steps and the aisle, still shaking.

“Now, the rest of you dry bones line up at the foot of the stage.”

* * *

About a dozen others confessed their sins that morning, but nobody held the room spellbound like Leroy had. He took a strange pleasure in that. On the other hand, he was just glad it was over. Public speaking always freaked him out, and regarding such intensely personal matters, it was all the more difficult. He wanted badly to know God, but was glad that was over.

He sat at the cafeteria table with his new friends eating eggs and toast.

Darius stuffed his face. “Eat as much as you can now. This’s it till dinner.”

“No lunch?”

Chewing aloud, Darius said “Just brunch on Sundays.”

“Cheap asses,” Rashaun said.

“Man why you always gotta be so negative?” Jemisha asked. “That’s all we got here, and you just wanna keep turnin’ up the volume.”

Rashaun was taken aback. “I just— Sorry, Misha. I’ma work on it.”