“That’s correct.”
“And the sketch only has to be ten minutes long?
“Correct again.”
“Do you have a script?”
“No.”
“Is there a theme?”
“Yes, The Ten Virgins.”
“What?!” I about fell over backward in my chair.
Louis laughed boisterously. “I’m just joking. The topic is yours to pick.”
I regrouped. “I know—we can do a sketch on the rapture and call it, Up, Up and Away. We could have several singles planted in the audience tied to black ropes and at the given time, have them slowly start rising into the air.”
Louis didn’t laugh. “Now, don’t get too carried away.” He missed his own pun. “This is to be performed in front of the entire church family and respectful of all views on eschatology.”
Now I laughed out loud. “Where’s your sense of humor? I was kidding. Really! I tell you what, Louis old buddy. I’ll do this, but you owe me lunch at the Executive Club across the street.”
He grinned. “Well Elmo, I believe in some parts of the country they call that extortion.”
I smiled back. “Yes, they do, and it’s darn good work if you can get it.”
This time we both laughed.
When I finally got to The Closet, I found a note pinned to my chair.
You can’t hide forever, Waterboy.
—Thurm
I guess it’s inevitable. I knew I’d have to suffer grief from Thurm on this baptism thing, so I decided to just get it over with. I would take my medicine like a man. I headed toward the south stairwell that led down to his office.
Before hitting the stairs, I made a brief stop at Fred Snooker’s office. Fred wasn’t in, but his door was unlocked. I decided to leave him a note asking him what would be a good time for us to get together. I needed about thirty minutes or so. I wanted to discuss more about The Black Toe Enigma, but I also wanted to ask him about the rift between him and Dr. De Villa. Using Thurm’s technique, I pinned my note to his chair, then quietly closed his door. I stepped back into the hallway and headed for the south stairs.
Thurm hung up his phone just as I got to his office. He looked as if he’d just been told his mother had died.
“Thurm, what’s the matter?”
He looked ashen. “Do you mind shutting the door?”
I closed the door then took a seat on his couch. “What’s going on?”
He came around his desk and sat in his wingback chair. “That was Alise. Evidently, she wants to call it quits.”
“What do you mean, call it quits? You mean breaking up? What’s the deal? You guys are perfect for each other.”
Thurm let out a tired sigh.” Well, that’s kind of what I thought too, but she sees it differently. This has actually been coming for a few weeks now. As a thick-headed, card-carrying member of the male gender, I just thought if I ignored the problem it would take care of itself.”
I sat up on the front of the couch. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the problem?”
“Elmo, you’re one of my best friends, and I know I can trust you. But I still need to say this. Please don’t share any of what I tell you, even with Bonnie. I’m still hoping to turn it around, so I don’t want to do or say anything that might further complicate the situation.”
“I promise anything we talk about will not leave this office. I would expect the same from you if the scenario were reversed. So what’s going on?”
“Well, it’s a pretty common issue. We’ve been dating for a couple of years now, and she’s ready to move it to the next level. And, well, I’m not sure I’m ready to go to the next level.”
“Okay, Thurm, bear with me. I’m pretty new at this relationship stuff. What exactly do you mean by ‘the next level?’”
“It’s basically black and white. She wants to get engaged, she wants to get married, she wants to settle down and start a family.”
“Yikes. I see your dilemma.”
“I mean, I like the lady. No—I love the lady. What’s not to love? She’s gorgeous, she’s smart, she’s employed, and for some inexplicable reason, she loves me. At least, I thought she did.”
I stood up and started pacing. “Then what’s the problem? Marry her, start a home, make babies. How old are you? Twenty-six, twenty-seven? Remember, your biological clock is ticking.”
“You Bozo. That’s a women’s phobia.” He momentarily smiled. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to pick out curtains quite yet.”
“Well, you really need to pray through this one. Let’s be honest; you’re not going to find a whole lot of Alise-quality ladies coming your way at this point, and you’re plenty old enough to settle down.”
“Fortunately I’ve got some time to think it through. She’s going to be out of town for a couple of weeks on some type of job-training junket. When she gets back, we’ll talk it out and see what the future holds.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Anything I can do to help?”
Thurm stood up. “Well, since you asked—yes there is. But it has nothing to do with my love life. I’m holding an all-nighter for my middle schoolers on Friday night. I could sure use your help. It’ll be here at the church in the Youth Room and also up on the roof recreation area. Your job will be supervision. You won’t have to prepare anything. I’m short a couple of chaperones, and I could really use a few more.”
“Excuse me, did you say all night?”
Thurm laughed. “Yes, that’s right. All night. Haven’t you ever participated in an all-night youth event?”
“To be honest, I don’t believe I’ve ever stayed up all night. You mean, like no sleep? Who does that?”
Thurm continued to laugh as he sat down behind his desk. “Oh yeah. It sucks for the adults, but the kids just love it. Be here Friday at 10:00 p.m. Dress comfortably and drink lots of fluids.”
“Why lots of fluids?"
“Oh, I don’t know. I always just throw that one in there for free. Seems like good advice for just about anything . . . except maybe a two-hour staff meeting.”
He was still laughing at his own joke as I headed back up the stairs. Well, at least he’s laughing.
An eventful morning so far. Roped into organizing a Single’s skit. Roped into chaperoning an all-nighter. What’s next? Tom sending me out to the suburbs on a bicycle to distribute religious magazines door to door? I got chills just thinking about it. Besides, I don’t even own a white button-down shirt. That’s it. I’m going to stay right here in The Closet the rest of the day.
“Elmo?” Adrianne crackled over the intercom.
“Yes, Adrianne. What can I do for you this morning?” Did I just say that?
“Pastor Tom gave me your hospital visitation slips for today, and he also needs you to cover his as well. The Mayor asked him to participate in the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new Battered Women’s Shelter opening over by the city library. First Church made a sizeable contribution to the project, and we’ll be providing volunteer counselors, so the Mayor thought it would be nice for Pastor Tom to be there.”
“No problem. Thanks.”
“Oh, and Elmo, you might want to get an early start. I’ve never seen this many slips on a Monday before.”
“Thanks for the heads up, Adrianne. I’ve always liked you, but please excuse me as I have to go now and kill myself.”
“Tough morning, huh?” she fired back. “Well, if you decide to go through with it, please let me know ‘cause I’ve gotta give the slips to somebody. Bye.”
I guess we can conclude that Adrianne does not have the spiritual gift of sympathy. Or would that be a spiritual fruit?
I flipped open my laptop and launched Outlook Express.
Dear Bonnie,
Hope you’re having a good day. No, make that a great day. You deserve a great day just for putting up with me. Allow me to whine for a moment if you will, and please, no sympathy. Just because I’m crying like a little girl, doesn’t
mean you should treat me like one.
Well, it’s Pile It on Elmo Day. What? You didn’t get the memo? Everyone else must have. That communist boss of yours put the strong arm on me this morning to be in charge of the Young Singles skit for Fall Festival Skit Night. He threatened to fire you if I said no. What was I going to do? Actually that’s not true. I like Louis, and he didn’t use you to leverage his request at all. Anyway, I’m really going to need someone to help me with it—hint, hint?
Then Thurm shot our Friday date night all to heck. He drafted me to be a chaperone for a youth all-nighter. You’ll just have to catch up with me Saturday morning over at St. Michael’s. I’ll be in the ICU. Just look for the multiple IVs, the oxygen mask, and perhaps an eye patch.
Then Adrianne decided to pick today to break the Guinness World Record for most hospital visitation slips in one day. I’ll be finishing those just in time for the Friday all-nighter, again concluding over at the ICU.
This concludes my whine and cheese fest. Hope you enjoyed the rant. Gotta run—I can hear the sick and infirmed calling out my name.
Now where did I put that stethoscope . . .
Love, Nurse Elmo
The Espresso
Cue the theme song:
Captain’s Blog; Starbucks,
Date: Wednesday, October 27th
After successfully navigating through two days of galactic debris spewed from the exhaust ports of the mother ship USS First Church, I’m now patiently waiting at the remote Starbucks Fourth Street station for Archives Officer Lieutenant Fred Snooker to arrive.
I’m such a geek, but hey, somebody’s gotta be.
Fred agreed to meet me at Starbucks, but only after I swore to him it was okay for someone over seventy to hang out there. Besides, I’m banking on his senior adult discount so I can upgrade to a Venti.
“Hey, Pastor Snooker, over here.”
“Hi Elmo. So this is what the inside of a Starbucks looks like. Cool!” he said, smiling.
“You threw that ‘cool’ in there for my benefit, didn’t you?”
“Caught me.”
“Thanks for coming. I hope Starbucks isn’t too much of a culture shock. We can meet at Waffle House next time if you like.”
“Cool.”
“Okay, enough of that!” I refocused him. “Pastor Snooker, I’d like to spend some time going over The Black Toe Enigma stuff, but first I need to ask you a couple of personal questions if that’s okay?”
“Elmo, at my stage of life I’m willing to discuss just about anything. The tougher the question, the better. If my blood pressure kicks up a little, that’s actually a bonus. Good for the old circulation.”
“Okay; as you know Dr. De Villa is my Seminary Internship Advisor. And as you may remember, he asked me a while back to deliver you an envelope.”
“Why, yes I do,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
“I’ve been told by someone I’d rather not name about the feud—for lack of a better word—between you and Dr. De Villa. Do you mind giving me some insight into that situation?”
Pastor Snooker straightened in his chair and put his elbows on the table. “I have no qualms in discussing that, but why the interest?”
“For starters, I have a tremendous amount of respect for you. You’ve not only become a good friend, but I also depend on you as a ministry mentor. Dr. DV, as we both know, is somewhat of a nut case, but he is my advisor and seems to have taken a genuine interest in me. At first, I dreaded our weekly meetings, but he’s grown on me over time. But also, it seems Dr. DV and I spend most of our time nowadays talking about you.”
“About me?” he said taken aback.
“Oh yes. It all started with that envelope I delivered to you. Ever since then, he asks about you every week.”
“Really? What type of questions?”
“Caring questions—how’s your health, what are your kids doing these days, what ministries are you involved in, etcetera. He seems sincerely interested, as if inquiring about a dear old friend.”
Pastor Snooker grinned. “He’s probably just plotting my assassination.”
I laughed. “No, I think he’s had some kind of change of heart, and he’s reaching out to you through me.”
“Well Elmo, I hope that’s true. Our situation hasn’t been a feud so much as a vendetta from him against me. I’m sure Thurman told you that I recommended the seminary pass over Augie and hire someone else to be the head of the Theology Department.”
“Wait a minute. How did you know it was Thurm who told me?”
“Just a guess, but thanks for confirming it. I guess I’ll be slashing his tires tonight.”
“What?”
“It’s a joke, Elmo. Even us old toots have a remnant of humor left. Anyway, Augie never understood my motivation for doing that, though I tried to explain it to him. So he went on a twenty-year mission to exact his revenge on me. I believe he even thinks he harpooned my chances of becoming the First Church Senior Pastor. But Smitty Fitzsimons had pushed hard for Horace, and that’s actually what ended any hope I had for the position.”
“Maybe you should slash Smitty’s tires instead.”
“No, I have no hard feelings toward Smitty, or Augie for that matter. God had me right where He wanted me. I have no regrets whatsoever. As far as reconciling with Augie, I’m very open to that, but he will have to initiate it. After all, he’s the one with the grudge. If you feel led to be the peacemaker between us, that’s great. Just let me know what I need to do.”
Just the answer I was hoping for. “Pastor Snooker, with your permission I’d like to follow up on the positive signals Dr. DV has been sending out, and see if he really is interested in burying the hatchet, so to speak.”
“You have my permission and my blessings on your efforts. Just keep me informed if you will.”
“Will do,” I said reaching for my TBT folder.
“Hey, would you like some coffee? My treat,” he asked hopping up out of his chair using that standard senior adult maneuver that proclaims: Hey—I look and feel better than my age!
“Let me warn you,” I cautioned, “the coffee at Starbucks is slightly more expensive than other places.”
“No problem, Elmo. I’m loaded these days,” he said with a rich man’s grin. “They offered to double my salary if I’d take on Bernard Coggins’s duties, at least until they find a replacement. What could I say but yes? What can I get you?”
“In that case, and since we’ll be discussing the Black Toe lore, I’ll have a Caramel Macchiato Venti. That’s what Harty Smith drinks.”
“Whatever that is, it sounds good. I’ll just get two.” He shuffled off to place our order.
That gave me a minute to touch base with Bonnie. I called the church office, and Juliann answered. “First Church, the church that cares for you; how I can direct your call?”
I tried to disguise my voice, but I’m no good at it. “My, what a pretty voice you have, missy. This is Mr. B. B. Wolf. Is Little Red Bonnie-hood in?”
“Elmo, you silly. She’s at her grandmother’s house—duh?” She giggled. “One moment,” she added, then sent my call through to Bonnie’s office.
“This is Bonnie, how can I help you?”
“Elmo Jenkins, the boy who cares for you; how can I direct your call?”
“Very funny. What’s up?” She sounded busy.
“Just confirming our lunch date. Are we still on for noon at Chili’s?
“Looking forward to it.”
“Good. Unfortunately, it’s going to be a working lunch. You’ve got to help me pull this Singles skit together. Can you bring some of the Whispering Creek drama notebooks with the funny sketches they use in their Sunday morning services? Maybe we can adapt one of those.”
“Will do. See you there. Bye”
Pastor Snooker came back with two drinks. “Boy, you weren’t just kidding about the pricey coffee. I could get a steak and potato dinner at the Sizzling Sirloin for the cost of these t
wo coffees.”
“Yeah, but that’s not cool.” I smirked.
“Touché.” He sat back down. “Okay, what have you discovered about The Black Toe Enigma?”
I opened my Black Toe file folder. “To be honest with you, Pastor, I’m befuddled. The deeper I dig into this stuff, the more questions I raise. But I’m not giving up. I talked with a few of the old, old-timers. I blackmailed Harty on the golf course to get some input. I even ran it by Dunston Jones, but basically, I’ve come up empty. The fact of the matter is, other than this old notebook and your knowledge on the subject, there’s not much left to go on. I’ve put together a timeline based on what Harty told me, the dates in the TBT notebook, and any other info I could come by through old church letters, bulletins, and such.”
“Well, that sounds intriguing. Let’s see what you have,” Pastor Snooker said as he leaned over to look at my notes.
The Black Toe Enigma Timeline
1891 – Wiley Smith becomes Chairman of the Deacons. He remains chairman for fourteen years.
1898 – He gets lost in a blizzard but is saved by another unnamed church member (possibly a deacon)
1921 – Wiley Smith has a debilitating stroke and becomes wheelchair-bound. He develops slurred speech, yet he continues to participate in the Deacon Meetings.
1925 – The Black Toe story begins to circulate within the church.
1928 – The earliest known Black Toe artifact surfaces; a Sunday church bulletin with a handwritten message on the back: “See you at the usual spot. 3:00 p.m.—The Black Toe.” It was discovered in Wiley’s papers after he died.
1929 – Four artifacts.
1930 – One artifact.
1933 – One artifact.
1936 – Wiley Smith dies. Several Black Toe artifacts found amongst his papers and files.
1937 – One artifact.
1939 – Article in Sunday Times detailing the Black Toe story.
1941 – Two artifacts, including an official church office memo signed TBT.
1944 – Aaron Spencer becomes First Church Associate Pastor
1946 – One artifact.
1947 – Aaron Spencer creates The Black Toe Notebook/Album.
1949 – One artifact.
1950 – An article in the church paper by Aaron Spencer entitled The Black Toe Enigma. In the article, he asks anyone with information about the Black Toe story to please come forward. No one does.
Ordained Irreverence Page 16
