Boo Who

by Rene Gutteridge

  Yet all week he’d been having trouble coming up with something to rival last week’s shock factor. So he’d prepared three sermons and was trying to decipher his mood about them when a knock came at his front door. It surprised him enough that at first he thought he was hearing things. In all his days at this church, he couldn’t recall ever having a visitor before church. But when the knock came again, he went to answer it.

  Standing in his doorway, dressed snazzier than a Pete’s Steakhouse sirloin topped with grilled onions and peppers, was a man trying to smile and swallow and blink all at once. “May I help you?”

  “You’re the reverend of this town?”

  “Yes, Reverend Peck.”

  The man looked distraught and couldn’t seem to find the words he was looking for. So the reverend invited him in. It was cold as the North Pole outside anyway.

  “Tell me your name.”

  “Dr. Hass,” he said softly. “I’m new in town.”

  They sat at the breakfast table. Dr. Hass declined coffee. “Thinking of coming to church this morning?”

  “Not really,” he sighed. “I should, don’t get me wrong. But I’m not the kind of person who belongs in church. I just needed someone to talk to this morning.”

  “Everyone is welcome in our church, Doctor. Incidentally, what kind of doctor are you?”

  Dr. Hass smiled a little. “The successful kind.”

  “I see. Well, then, what can I help you with?”

  “I had this grand life out west. I was rich, respected. I lost it all. And I thought I could use a change of pace. So I moved here. You know, everyone assumes life in a small town is better, simpler. But I have to say, from what I can see, you all are as messed up as any of the rest of us.”

  The reverend laughed. “Oh yes. You could certainly say that.”

  Dr. Hass leaned forward on the table. “There are things I fear, and it’s those things that I suppose corrupt my heart.”

  Fear! He could preach on fear! He’d never preached on fear before because he was afraid it was too heavy of a topic for a congregation that thought “Jingle Bells” had a lot of spiritual significance and should be added to the Christmas hymnal. But he suspected, in fact he knew that many people struggled with fear and that fear drove numerous actions that caused trouble in their life.

  But one thing Reverend Peck knew about himself: He had to be prepared. He’d always known that he was not one for speaking on the fly. Many years ago, he had a friend who would not select a topic until the morning he was to preach. And without a single note, he could get up there and talk until he was blue in the face. Reverend Peck had always envied him and his church a little bit. There were only twenty members, but they were always very excited come Sunday morning. They’d dance in the aisle to the organ, shout out amens, and wave white hankies. Nobody had ever shouted amen in his church, and almost everyone here thought dancing was wrong, though these same people could be found in the county dance hall from time to time. And hankies were for blowing noses.

  “I know what fear can do to a person,” Dr. Hass said. “And it’s not pretty.”

  “You seem like a guy who enjoys helping people,” the reverend observed.

  Dr. Hass nodded humbly. “I suppose I do, though maybe I didn’t know that about myself all along. But I happen to think if you face your fears, you can conquer them.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Oh yes. I’ve actually tested this theory scientifically.”

  Reverend Peck engaged his guest’s eyes. “I want you to be at my church this morning. God loves you. And He has a purpose for you.”

  Dr. Hass smiled. “My grandmother used to tell me that.”

  “No, I mean, He has a purpose for you this morning.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How would you like to be a guest speaker?”

  Melb marveled at how quickly some problems could be solved. Of course, sometimes solving one problem created another problem, which was the case this morning. But she was trying not to think about that as she sat next to Oliver, waiting for Sunday morning’s service to begin.

  They’d had to arrive forty minutes early. Last week, due to odd construction in the parking lot and the fact that half the pews were missing inside the church, Oliver and Melb had had to stand near the back. They’d nearly been turned away.

  This morning, everyone else seemed to have the same idea, arriving early. The house was packed, and there was already a line outside.

  From across the aisle, she observed Ainsley, who sat with her father. Had she cut her hair? Yes, she did! Goodness, nearly to the scalp! Well, Melb thought, I hope she donated the rest of it to the place that makes wigs for cancer patients. No need to waste beautiful hair like that.

  She wondered why Wolfe wasn’t with Ainsley Late last night, squelching the fears she had about Oliver knowing her budget fiascos, he’d shared with her that he’d fired Wolfe that day. Though still upset by the firing, by the time he’d gotten home, Oliver had cooled off a bit.

  By then, Melb had found a solution to her budget problems. The kind and thoughtful Alfred Tennison, who had come over to ask if she was okay, had been looking for a big event to film, complete with a “celebrity” chef and caterer, he’d said. When Melb told him she couldn’t afford anything like that, Alfred explained he would pay for it all.

  “What’s the catch?” she’d asked.

  “No catch, except you have to be willing to have a lot of cameras and extra people around. And there may be times parts of the reception will need to be rearranged slightly for continuity control. Just things like that.”

  She had hesitated, but Alfred said, “You will have the most gorgeous wedding cake you could dream of. Flower arrangements you see out of magazines. Enough food to feed the whole town if they show up.”

  “Yes! Yes! I’ll do it!” she exclaimed. How could she turn it down? It was now her only hope of having her dream wedding to match her dream dress.

  There was the slight problem of explaining to Oliver why all the cameras and extra people were there, but maybe he wouldn’t notice, or perhaps he would be so bedazzled he wouldn’t care. She’d spent the early evening owling while going over her options in her head. She hadn’t quite come up with a good idea about sharing this with Oliver, but there was still time. She was just relieved there was going to be food at the wedding!

  Dr. Hass had struggled his whole life with looking down on people. His mother told him that even as a child, he would rather play by himself than have to tolerate the behavior of other children. It was this kind of attitude, he supposed, that had brought him success in life. But perhaps it was also this attitude that had brought such bad luck onto his personal life and led to his escape from people seeking to “do him in,” as they liked to say.

  So the irony of all this was not lost on him as he stood behind a church pulpit to preach a sermon to a group of people who looked as though they’d just seen someone raised from the dead.

  Dr. Hass had declined the reverend’s first offer. After all, he was wearing far too many hats in this town as it was. But then Reverend Peck sweetened the deal. Offered an honorarium. And that’s when Dr. Hass realized that inside him was a speaker just dying to come out. And after all, he was passionate about the topic he would be speaking on, though, again, the irony wasn’t lost on him that he was running from things, or people, he feared.

  So at fifteen after seven, arriving at the reverend’s doorstep hoping for—what, he wasn’t sure; perhaps spiritual grace?—he’d left with spiritual responsibility.

  The crowd, even standing at the back wall because there weren’t any pews left, was understandably shocked when Dr. Hass announced he would be the special guest speaker for the morning. But it didn’t take him long to get warmed up. It amazed him how energizing it felt to stand in the presence of people whose ears were locked onto his every word. He stumbled through his first thoughts, trying to remember to pay equal amounts of attention to all corners of the room.
But before long he was on a roll, gesturing, speaking loudly enough that his voice reverberated off the walls. He overplayed his expressions, but it seemed to add just enough emphasis to regain the lost attention of some of the church members.

  He’d forgotten most of the scriptures Reverend Peck had suggested he should use, but he did find certain phrases like antiquated nebulous truisms and irrelevant platitudes of sanity helped him seem qualified, as well as sharpening the dull minds before him. And by the end of the twenty minutes, he felt as if he’d made a difference. Of course, he wasn’t exactly facing his own fears and, in fact, had seemed to forget all the resolutions he’d first made after leaving the West Coast to come to small-town America. But that was neither here nor there.

  It felt good to stand in people’s awe again. He’d forgotten the feeling.

  Afterward he greeted the parishioners, each of them offering a hand along with a skeptical smile. He’d given no explanation to where the reverend was; the reverend had asked him not to. That was sure to make people uneasy.

  An attractive blonde with hair cut just above her shoulders shook his hand and said, “Is the reverend okay?”

  Dr. Hass remembered to smile in an easy manner. “He is. I’m just filling in. He’ll be back next week.”

  “I’m worried,” she said, though not necessarily to him.

  Sheriff Parker, who stood beside her, said, “Dr. Hass, you’ll be glad to know that Thief is getting better! Your suggestions worked.”

  “Good.” He smiled.

  The blonde said, “My fiancé and I are going to come in next week. We’ve been having some … some problems.”

  Sheriff Parker grinned. “You know these young kids,” he winked.

  Dr. Hass said he would be glad to see them, and then he turned to acknowledge other people waiting to shake his hand.

  He could get used to this kind of friendliness. He could only imagine how it felt to always be liked.

  Like an overfilled pie crust, Ainsley’s heart was bursting with the many troubles she faced. She had hoped church would lift her spirits; it usually did, but today it only added to her anxieties. Dr. Hass had focused on overcoming fears…

  Was that her problem? She feared too much? She wasn’t facing her fears, as Dr. Hass put it? Her insides trembled at the thought of what was happening to Reverend Peck. Was he abandoning the church, the ministry?

  Then her mind would drift to Wolfe, who hadn’t even bothered to show up for church today. Was it to spite her? They’d left each other’s presence in a huff yesterday.

  Then there was the matter of her transformation. Exhilaration didn’t begin to describe her feelings. For the first time, she felt she had purpose. Everything she’d worked so hard at was now paying off There had been people in her life who’d thought her attention to detail was absurd. But they loved to come to her house and enjoy those same special touches.

  And that personality trait was now convincing her she needed to take down the Nativity set. She could hardly stand to look at it without the Wise Men. And admittedly, it was far past Christmas.

  She was walking to the garage to get the box that held the figures when the doorbell rang. Her father was upstairs implementing the third step to Thief’s therapy, which was not to acknowledge Thief’s presence.

  She went to the door, hoping it was Wolfe.

  “It’s you,” she smiled.

  He smiled back and took her hands. “I hate when we fight.”

  “Me too.” She embraced him and said, “Where were you this morning?”

  “Standing in line, trying to get in. There wasn’t enough room, though. And it was freezing outside, so I came back home.”

  “Oh, that’s so sad! What is the reverend thinking? It wasn’t even the reverend speaking. It was Dr. Hass.” She pulled him inside. “It’s too cold to stand out there.”

  “I just wanted to come by and see if we’re okay.”

  “We’re fine. I thought about you all last night and this morning.”

  “And you know what I thought of? That I should be helping you.”

  “Helping me?”

  “Plan the wedding. There are some things I could do, you know. I don’t even have a job now, so I have plenty of time. I got fired yesterday.”

  “You did?” she gasped.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t cut out for that trade, I’m afraid. What can I do to help you with the wedding?”

  She squeezed his hands. “Honey, you don’t need to do anything. I know I’ve fallen a little behind, but I’ll catch up. I spent a lot of this weekend mapping out what I need to be doing. If I have a list, there’s no stopping me.”

  “You’re amazing,” he said. “You have this remarkable organizational ability. I’ve never known anyone who can multitask better than you.”

  “You know just how to make a girl blush,” she giggled.

  They kissed, and relief flooded her body. Everything was right with the world when she was inside this man’s embrace.

  “So what are you up to?” he asked.

  “I was just about to go to the garage and get the Nativity box. I can’t stand the vacant spot where those Wise Men should be any longer.”

  “I can’t imagine why anybody would take them and then not bring them back.” He followed her into the garage, where she retrieved the box.

  On their way back to the living room, she said, “I tell you, Wolfe, it makes me lose faith in humanity. It really does.”

  “We’ll pick out a new Nativity set for you.”

  She set the box down and went to the fireplace, caressing one of the shepherds with her finger. “This was my mother’s.”

  He embraced her from behind. “I’m sorry.”

  She smiled up at him and patted his cheek. “You are my wise man.”

  He laughed and helped her gather a few of the figurines off the mantel. Setting them down on the coffee table, she opened the box up, pulling out the Styrofoam where every figure had its proper place.

  And gasped so loudly it sounded like a tire losing air.

  “What’s wrong?” Wolfe rushed to her side, then looked down. “The Wise Men! You found them!”

  Ainsley had slapped her hand over her mouth. It fell to her chin as she said, “They’ve been in the box the whole time. I … I … I forgot to put them out.”

  “Well, that’s okay. At least you know they’re safe and sound.” His face beamed with relief.

  She nearly dropped Joseph and the angel. His hand slipped below hers and took them away. “Are you all right? Why aren’t you happy?”

  “I just … just can’t believe I forgot to put them out. I never forget to do things like that.”

  He laughed. “Well, you’ve had a lot on your mind, like our wedding. Don’t be hard on yourself. The main thing is that we found them.”

  She grinned to defuse his worry and said, “Will you grab the donkey? And the manger?”

  Apparently satisfied that he’d comforted her, he returned the grin and went to the mantel. She didn’t expect him to understand. He couldn’t possibly know why she was upset.

  But inside, her spirit was agitated with uncertainty. For as long as she could do it, she’d been in charge of putting the Nativity set out. And not one time had she forgotten any of the figurines. To Wolfe, it represented simple forgetfulness. But to her, it represented much more.

  The stress of everything was taking more of a toll on her than she’d thought. What would she forget next? The room swirled around her as her mind tried to adjust itself into the multitasking machine she thought it was. Her whole talent depended on the fact that she could do more than one thing at a time. How could she forget something like putting the Wise Men out?

  “You okay?” Wolfe had returned with figurines in his grasp.

  She smiled. “Just going over a menu in my head for tonight.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  The phone rang, a perfect excuse for her to drop her facade and turn the other way. She answered it in the
kitchen.

  “Hello, Ainsley, it’s Alfred.”

  She glanced behind her. Wolfe was busy finishing the Nativity set. “Oh, hi.”

  “I have terrific news.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’ve found a major event for you to cater. I’ve already hired the film crew and one of the best directors around.”

  Her knees grew weak. “I … I can’t believe it.”

  “Believe it.”

  “What’s the event?”

  “Melb Cornforth’s wedding.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, she agreed to have the film crew there and everything. It will kind of have a reality TV flavor to it, but I think it will work.”

  “That’s only a few weeks away. Valentine’s Day.”

  “I know! It’s perfect! We can have this in the can by the first of March. Timing is everything, Ainsley. This is the perfect solution. By the way, I didn’t tell Miss Cornforth it was you. I thought that would be a great surprise.”

  “Um … yeah …”

  “So here’s what I need from you. You’ve got to plan the entire menu for the wedding, plus design the cake, flower arrangements, and reception decorations…” Alfred kept talking, but her mind blocked out all he was saying. She squeezed her eyes shut and nearly felt dizzy. Something inside her was screaming no, but even louder than that was determination, and she knew its origin.

  Memories of her mother had slowly faded over the years, but one remained, and it hovered in her mind like a beautiful butterfly in front of an orchid. With complete clarity, she could see her mother pulling out freshly baked cookies from the oven as Ainsley arrived home from a hard day at school, turning with a smile on her face, that same perfectly pleasant smile she always wore without fail. And without effort. She wondered what sacrifices her mother made in her own heart to be able to offer that kind of smile on every occasion.

  “Ainsley?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. Yes. That’s um … that’s fine. It’s the week before my own wedding, though.”

  Alfred paused. “Ainsley, to make it big, there are a lot of sacrifices to be made. You can ask your fiancé about that. He knows what it means to sacrifice. Now I have to know right now if you’re willing to make those sacrifices. If you’re not, there are plenty of other women ready to step into Martha’s shoes.”