The Early Crap: Selected Short Stories, 1997-2005

by Anthony Neil Smith

  “Sure. Write down when and where,” he said.

  Tina did and gave them back. She had scribbled her phone number in the corner. “Don’t call, not yet,” she said.

  “I’ll be there. Save me a seat?”

  “That won’t look so good. Come early enough, you can sit right behind me.”

  Cal thought, Good enough. Tina walked around to the driver’s door, opened it and lingered. She got in the car, cranked up, and the radio blared crisp choir music that trailed her and stretched when she drove away. Cal spent the rest of the day daydreaming about stealing Tina and running away with her three different ways.

  Cal got to the service fifteen minutes early, pushed through the double wooden doors to the sanctuary after shaking hands with everyone in the lobby who looked thrilled to see him. He wore a good denim shirt and Dockers, felt underdressed in boat shoes and white socks. The pastor’s wife stood right inside the doors and introduced herself. Sister Rollins was tall and thin, happy sounding in a twangy way.

  “Are you in the Air Force?” she asked.

  “No. Friend of Tina’s.”

  “Is that right? My daughter, you know.”

  “I missed that part.”

  “Glad to have you. Wait around after service and you can meet my husband.”

  Cal wandered away as everyone began to find seats. There were four sections of blonde wood pews in a quarter circle facing the platform in the corner. The ceiling had been sculpted away in layers with a chandelier hanging at the top.

  Tina was beside Cal then and tapped his arm. She looked up. “The pastor wanted it to look like the inside of a wedding cake.”

  “I would have never guessed.”

  “Let’s sit down.” She pulled his arm, slid her hand down until their fingers were touching, then let go. They walked up the outside aisle of the far left section, and Tina pointed at the fourth pew while settling in on the third.

  She turned her head in profile and whispered, “Trent’s on the platform. See him?”

  He was in a double-breasted suit in a high-backed chair with a Bible in his lap. His hair was gelled back and slick. The band was on his left, playing a hyped-up pop/soul groove, three women singing on two mikes with keys, drums, guitar, “Jesus on the main line, Tell Him what you want.” The teenager on guitar had a nice Strat, strummed open chords and changed late, which sounded tragic. To Cal, the music was pretty good overall, black gospel done by white people. The pastor stepped up onto the platform and stood by Trent. He was a short, strong-looking middle-aged man. Then, everyone in the congregation stood up, began clapping hands with the beat.

  When the song ended, one of the back-up singers stepped behind the pulpit with a hymnal and led a sing-a-long. Cal picked up a book, found the page and hummed along, guessing. Tina looked back at him, bobbed her head while she sang loud and warbly. But when he listened to the whole church singing together, it was like heaven. Better even than Van Halen harmony, which was damn good. Cal thought this was God-music he could really get into playing himself.

  He had never seen anything like the prayer service that followed. The pastor asked that anyone who was sick or in debt come forward to be anointed with oil. At least thirty went, lining up in front of the high platform while the band tried a slower number: “Surely the Presence of the Lord is in This Place, I can Feel His Mighty Power, and His Grace…” The pastor and Trent stepped down, faced the prayer line, dabbed their fingers with olive oil and laid hands on foreheads, praying, “Be HEALED in the name of Jesus! Infirmities have got to GO!”

  Tina left her seat and took a slow walk up front, showing off in her green dress. She stood behind a friend a few minutes before swooning on her own, held up by her mother and an older lady while speaking in tongues. It went on like that for a half hour before they calmed down and returned to their seats. The pastor then stepped behind the pulpit and apologized to Trent, saying the Lord had touched him with an important message during the afternoon, and Trent could preach on Wednesday instead. He read a Bible verse from Romans before beginning his sermon about the Invisible Hand of God, the everyday miracles people take for granted without thinking that God had just intervened in their lives.

  “Sometimes, God delays us. Ever lost your car keys?” The pastor paused, patted his pants pockets and his suit coat while the crowd laughed some and a few shouted Amen. “Think about it. God could’ve let you lose your car keys for a while, long enough to hold you back some, make you late,” then louder, “Who knows if he let you miss that intersection by a minute or two where that wreck might had happened had you been there. Praise God!”

  That caused some people to stand up and hop up and down or wave their hands in the air, saying, “Glory,” or “Yes, Jesus, thank you.” The pastor paced in quick steps on the stage, encouraging the noise. Calvin thought it was exciting, maybe a bit crazy, but what was crazy about being happy? They were happy people. Tina looked back, asking the silent question. Cal smiled and nodded: It’s not bad.

  The pastor kept it up, about thankfulness, about the gift of salvation through the Holy Ghost. It didn’t seem long before the music tinkled in as the sermon came to a close. Trent came up to the pulpit and offered an invitation to the altars up front, to seek salvation or renew one’s commitment, while the pastor went back to his chair and knelt in front of it, praying. Cal figured it couldn’t hurt, and might impress Tina, so he waited until the altars were nearly full of kneeling people before slowly following and finding a few inches of space to squeeze in.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder, looked up and saw Trent. A few other men had gathered behind him, some touching his back. There were older men, a couple in suits, one in overalls, and a kid who looked twelve. Some voice told him to lift his hands, so he did, and closed his eyes. After a few minutes of that, he felt tired, squeezed his eyes tighter so he saw green and felt dizzy. His arms started to droop, and men beside him cupped hands under his elbows to hold them up. Trent’s voice was close to his ear then, whispering, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  Cal shook his head. “Not really.”

  “You want to repent? Are you ready to be saved?”

  “I thought I already was.”

  “You wouldn’t be up here if you really thought so, right?”

  Cal turned his head and opened his eyes. Trent was leaning over a couple of people. Tina was on the other side with the women, but she was sitting on the platform steps and watching. She looked worried in a way Cal didn’t get.

  “You can have the Holy Ghost tonight if you want it,” Trent said.

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean, ‘have’ it?”

  Trent waved off some of the other people, then sat on the altar. Cal did the same. The music was much louder, faster, but they were closer to the speakers. Trent had to shout. “Maybe we can talk later. I can run you through the plan. You want to come eat with us afterwards? We’re going to Shoney’s.”

  Cal said that was okay. Trent went to tell Tina, who looked happy and disappointed at the same time.

  When the service was over, Cal followed Trent and Tina to Shoney’s on the beach. Inside, he recognized several families he had seen at service, and a long table of church teenagers, and the pastor and his wife in a corner booth, burgundy vinyl bench curved around the table. One of Tina’s friends, the girl who had played keyboard, waved from three tables away where she sat across from a thin guy who tapped his spoon against the salt shaker.

  They sat with the pastor and his wife. Trent introduced Cal to Brother Rollins, who shook his hand across the table. Tina sat between Cal and Trent, and they ordered.

  Brother Rollins said, “Tina tells me you manage the ham shop, Cal.”

  “For now. How was the lunch today.”

  “Great, great. You gave us a good one.”

  “Not Jewish, are you?” Trent leaned back and stretch his arms wide on the bench, letting his hand dangle
over Tina’s shoulder. He was losing some hair, though Cal was sure they were the same age.

  “I don’t get it,” Cal said.

  “Something a friend told me, what I would’ve preached on tonight. You know the Bible?”

  “From movies.” Cal spread his elbows apart on the table. Tina ripped open a pack of sugar and dumped it in her water, stirred it around. She reached over for the lemon on the lip of Trent’s tea glass, squeezed it into the water and dropped the rind in the ashtray. She asked for everybody's lemons and got all of them except Brother Rollins, who already used his.

  Trent said, “Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee and landed near the cemetery, where a crazy naked guy ran up and yelled at him. He said, ‘Why are you bothering us? It’s not time yet.’ Jesus said, ‘What’s your name?’ The guy said, ‘Legion,” which meant he had two thousand demons in him. But this crazy naked guy had been living in the cemetery for a long time by then. Jesus cast all the all the demons out of the guy into a herd of pigs that was close by. The possessed pigs went nuts, ran off a cliff and drowned themselves in the water.”

  “Careful, Trent,” Brother Rollins said.

  Trent flinched and reached his arm towards Cal. “Here’s the interesting part, though. When the townspeople ran down to the cemetery, the guy was fully clothed and sitting at Jesus’ feet. They should have been happy, you’d think, to get this nut out of their hair. But they got mad! The pigs were their livelihood, so they made Jesus leave. They missed a chance to hear Jesus teach because of the pigs.”

  Cal waited. “And?”

  “They were Jews. Jews don’t eat pork, don’t touch pork. What were they doing raising pigs?”

  Tina laughed but caught it quick, covered her mouth with her fingers in a teepee.

  “That may be a little over his head,” Sister Rollins said.

  “No, I got the Jews and pork thing. But what else?”

  “We sometimes let bad things get in the way of doing good. I think that’s what Brother Trent meant,” Brother Rollins said.

  The food came and was sorted out, and they passed around the ketchup. Trent said a short blessing, and they began eating.

  “That was a pretty good service,” Cal said. “I’ve never seen that type of church before.”

  “Give God the glory. What’s your background?” Brother Rollins said.

  “Raised Episcopal. But I haven’t been in years.”

  Trent leaned forward, spoke across Tina. “I’m serious, though. We could get together, and go through a Bible study.”

  Brother Rollins laughed. “Don’t scare him off.”

  Cal looked at Tina, who had stopped smiling and now just looked miserable. It made his stomach hurt.

  “I think I need to go right now. But I had a great time.” Cal stood up, pulled his wallet out and tried to give a ten to the pastor. He waved it off and said the meal was his treat. Trent reached over for another hand shake, said he was glad to meet Cal. “If you want to talk, call.”

  Cal smiled and walked away, barely aware Tina was following him. In the lobby, she caught his arm.

  “You aren’t even talking to me,” she said.

  “I didn’t think our first date would be dinner with your parents and boyfriend.”

  “Calm down. I’m sorry about all of it. I owe you now. I’ve got your work number.” Tina patted his cheek and turned for the ladies’ room. Cal pulled the keys out of his pocket and walked out to his car. On the way home, he stopped for Tums.

  Tina showed up at the ham shop right after noon on Monday and stood in line behind business types who were paying for lunch, some businessmen in sweat drenched dress shirts and women still looking Early Morning Perfect except for their hair. Cal pecked out receipts and change and pretended he didn’t see Tina, even though she was standing a bit offside to make sure he did. A few minutes later, she was up front with no one behind her, carrying a brown paper bag in her hand.

  “Hey,” Cal said, fake surprised.

  “You get a lunch break?”

  “In a few minutes. You want anything?”

  She lifted the bag. “I’ve got us some crawfish. Have you got plans?”

  Cal remembered the coupon for Subway in his wallet, but it could wait. The counter girls were watching, grinning. The sandwich slicer blinked back and forth between Cal, the machine, boss, meat.

  “I get an hour. We can go someplace.” Cal turned to a counter girl. “I’m taking lunch. Watch for me.”

  They walked out to his truck, a big Toyota. He opened the door for Tina but let her close it. Inside, he rolled down the window, asked her to do the same.

  “No air,” Cal said. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves to his elbows. Tina put the bag down between them. It smelled like crab boil, and the steam fogged up a spot high on the windshield. Her hair was down today, smelled like apple shampoo. Her khaki skirt inched above her knees while sitting, and her ankles were crossed. Woven leather sandals. Cal thought, A half hour, and I’ll ask her out. Have to be sure.

  He drove to Highway 90, then along the beach towards the mall. The beach wasn’t as full as it was on weekends. There were still families with kids, and older people taking breaks from casinos and golf courses. The rental booths were scattered, hocking jet skis, paddle boats, and sun umbrellas. Tina asked Calvin if he wanted a crawfish.

  “Not while I’m driving.”

  She opened the bag and pulled one out, bounced it around her fingers. “Hot!” Then she broke it in two, sucked the head, pulled the tail meat out with her teeth, and tossed the shell out the window. Then she broke another one and offered it to Cal, holding the tail half an inch from his mouth.

  “Really, not now.”

  “Ever kissed anyone after eating them?”

  “Sure, a few times.”

  “You like it?”

  Cal shrugged. “It burns.”

  He adjusted the rearview. Tina switched places with the bag, closer to Cal on the bench seat. She leaned in front of him, aiming to kiss his lips while he kept moving to see ahead.

  “I’ll wreck,” he said.

  She settled for his cheek, made it sloppy, then put her hand on his leg. It made Cal hard, but this wasn’t the way he had imagined it, and he wasn’t very comfortable.

  “I thought you were a church girl.”

  That made her pull her hand away and she crossed her arms. “I was raised in that and it’s all I’ve ever known. The best thing I was told I could do was grow up and marry a preacher. And the only way to get a young preacher’s attention is to look drop dead perfect and act like Mary herself. Just a timid little thing that smiles, sings, whoops it up in church and acts so sweet. But then I got to college. What was I thinking?”

  “What about Trent?”

  “He’s nice and all, but dumb as a brick. I’ve never seen him in jeans, you know?”

  “You’ve never seen me in jeans,” Calvin said. He looked at his watch and saw they’d only been out ten minutes.

  “You wear them, though. I know it. I want to break free for a while. I had no idea what I was missing. Trent doesn’t need to know. Whatever gets him through the day, right?” She reached after another crawfish, ate it, tossed the shell out the window again. “How about you? What do you want to be?”

  “I play guitar, sing some. I would like to get a band together again. The last one just broke up. And if that doesn’t work, I’ve got back-up plans. But it’s nothing.”

  “Come on, what?”

  “I want to write comic books.”

  Tina nodded while cracking open another crawfish. “Like Batman?”

  “Sure, he’s cool. But something more mature.”

  She flipped her wrist back, swinging the crawfish tail left. “Comic books,” then flipped her wrist to the right. “Maturity. No, they ain’t going together too well.”

  “I have to get back to work,” Cal sa
id.

  “You’ve got time.”

  “No, really.”

  The hand was back on his leg again, and Cal pulled the truck into the parking lot of a convenience store and put it in park. He turned his head and reached for a kiss—a hard one with Tina’s hands busy, one pulling his neck and the other rubbing his leg harder. He broke it off to catch his breath.

  “That what you want? You like that?”

  “It’s good,” Tina said. She licked the spit off and leaned in for another. She pulled Cal’s lip with her teeth, little snaps. He kissed with tongue the next time, and she let him for a minute before shaking him off. Cal grabbed her wrist, and she tightened her fingernails into his fingers.

  “This what you like? You want to hurt me?” he said.

  “No, I just want you to remember me.” Tina’s grin was more gloat than happy.

  Cal started the truck and drove back to the shop. Tina hopped out before Cal could open the door for her. He wanted a good-bye kiss, but Tina grabbed his hand and double pumped it like a banker.

  “Thanks a bunch. It was a blast,” she said. She backed off and turned for her car, leaving the crawfish on the truck seat.

  “Left your bag,” Cal said.

  “Keep it. Hey, are you coming back to church?”

  “Will I get to keep seeing you?”

  “We don’t have much time. I’ll be a married woman soon.” Tina opened the car door, sat down, and traded her glasses for shades. She cranked and revved the engine.

  Cal took the bag, went into the shop and to the break room. He pulled his wallet out, stared at the Subway coupon, then reached for the Yellow Pages under the phone. He looked up the church’s number and dialed.

  Brother Rollins and Trent met Cal at the church at seven. They had told him to dress in old jeans and a T-shirt, and to bring a change of clothes for after the baptism. When he got to his apartment, there was a message from Tina telling him to meet her at seven at the miniature golf course on the beach. He ignored it, gathered the clothes into a plastic bag, then drove over to church.