“I’m afraid our special-effects department can’t provide lightning bolts on demand,” Oscar replied, “but there are some things we can do. How about a halo for you during your part of the service? Think that’ll wow ‘em?”
“Can you really do that?”
“Maybe. I’ve been thinking about it, but I still need to try a couple of things. I’ll know in a day or two. Meanwhile, you can be thinking about how you’ll handle your mini-sermon.”
It was the middle of the following week before Oscar was ready to try out his artificial halo on Saul. It was really just a tiny, high-intensity light bulb in a special fitting Oscar had made in his shop. It was designed to take advantage of Saul’s unique complement of hair. Although thinning, there still was enough hair on Saul’s head to constitute a fairly lush if entirely disorderly mop, with sparse, iron-gray tufts thrusting out in every direction. The light was energized by a battery belt, similar to those used by news cameramen, connected by a thin wire which ran from Saul’s scalp down inside his collar.
Oscar carefully positioned the fitting close to the center of Saul’s scalp, anchored it with a dab of sticky wax, and then combed his hair back in place over it. It could not be seen unless one looked directly down on Saul’s head from above, and even then it was unlikely to be noticed by a casual observer. Oscar positioned himself some 15 feet in front of Saul, about where the television camera would be when he was behind the pulpit, and then had Saul close a switch on the battery belt, activating an electronic circuit which smoothly increased the power to the bulb to its maximum value.
“Eureka!” Oscar cried. “Your hair looks like it’s on fire. It diffuses the light just enough to give the impression of a nimbus. Of course, it’s too bright in the center, and there’s no light at the sides, but we can fix that.”
Suddenly Saul’s hair was on fire, and a thin wisp of acrid smoke curled upward from the center of his head, even though Saul already had opened the switch. Fortunately, the damage was limited to a few dozen strands of hair immediately above the hot bulb, and Saul’s scalp was not burned.
“We’ll have to watch that,” was Oscar’s reaction. “The bulb is putting out 150 watts when it’s on. You’ll have to keep the most dramatic passage of your sermon down to about five seconds, including about a second each for the power-up and power-down sequences. And we’ll have to use a hair stiffener with more body, so the heat doesn’t cause your hair to wilt and contact the hot bulb.”
“You might also put a little more insulation between the fitting and my scalp,” Saul suggested. “It got uncomfortably hot. And while you’re looking for a stiffer hair spray, why don’t you find something that’s fireproof? Otherwise, I might end up doing an impromptu imitation of Moses’ burning bush.”
Oscar spent the better part of the next two weeks refining his gadget, and Saul went through another four test runs with it before Oscar was completely satisfied. The final version consisted of three separate bulbs, and two hours of painstaking effort was required to position them and arrange Saul’s hair after they were in place. The switch was moved from the battery belt down to Saul’s knee joint, inside his trousers. He could turn it on and off unobtrusively by pressing his knees together. The power-up sequence was shortened to half a second, while the power-down sequence was stretched out to nearly two seconds to give the right effect.
“When the big day comes we’ll have to start to work on you at least three hours before you’re due to go on camera, and then you’ll have to dodge Jerry’s regular makeup man. It might seem like a lot of trouble just to light up your hair for a few seconds, but it could make a big difference in the way the television audience perceives you,” Oscar commented, as he jotted down notes to serve as reminders during the final installation of the lights.
XXIV
“This had better be worth getting up for,” Adelaide grumbled in mock irritation, as Oscar adjusted the color and brightness on the television screen in their motel room. She propped herself up in bed and pulled the covers to her chin. Oscar had just returned from Saul’s room a few minutes earlier. It was 5:00 AM, and Caldwell’s Easter service was about to begin. On Saturday Adelaide and Oscar had driven up from Washington to the small Maryland town where Caldwell’s church and television studio were located.
“Quit complaining,” Oscar admonished her as he dropped the last of his clothes onto a chair and slipped into the bed beside her. “I’ve been up all night.”
“Don’t I know it!” Adelaide exclaimed, maintaining her pretense at anger. “You talk me into going off with you for a romantic weekend in a motel, and then you leave me in the motel by myself the whole night. Some romance!”
“Tell you what, sweetheart. I’ll give you as much romance as you can handle in just a minute — if this caper comes off without a hitch. Otherwise I’ll shoot myself.”
For the first time since he had known her he was oblivious to the feel of Adelaide’s naked body next to his. Despite her warmth and her intoxicating nearness, he was cold and tense. There was a tight knot in his stomach. He had the sickening intuition that this whole stunt with Saul was a terrible and foolish mistake. There were just too many things which could go wrong. How could he have been so naive, so childish, as to believe that he could pull off a deception like this with millions of people watching! Almost certainly some of Caldwell’s people around Saul would spot the trickery immediately and expose it. He began to perspire, and the desperate thought flashed into his mind that perhaps there still was some way he could get word to Saul telling him not to go through with it.
But, no, it was too late! On the screen another of Caldwell’s assistants, who had just finished leading the singing of a hymn, already was introducing Saul. Oscar was so apprehensive he could hardly bear to watch as Saul swung into his mini-sermon. He stole a quick glance at Adelaide’s face. She was absorbed in what was happening on the screen. Oscar had not told her about the gadgetry with which he had equipped Saul. She only knew that Saul was to try to steal the show from Caldwell this morning by departing from his script and pouring on the histrionics. He turned back to the television screen.
“And, my brothers and sisters, our Lord Jesus commanded us all to love one another as brothers and sisters, no matter what our station in life, no matter what our color or race, no matter what our nationality; yes, he did: that was his message to us.” Saul still was mouthing his lines with a sort of beatifically vacant smile. It was almost time for him to wind up and turn the pulpit over to Caldwell.
Suddenly Saul’s voice came to a strangled halt in mid-platitude, as if he had tried to swallow a large chicken bone and it had stuck in his throat. His body froze in an awkward, twisted stance, and the smile on his face was instantly replaced by an intense expression which seemed a blend of awe and fear, as of a man staring with irresistible fascination into the white-hot mouth of an erupting volcano which he knew was about to incinerate him.
Then Saul spoke again, but this time in a croaking, hoarse whisper: “My God, the power, the power!” He seemed completely overwhelmed by something that only he could see. But this phase lasted only a few seconds. Then the stiffness and awkwardness passed from his body as quickly as they had come, and he stretched himself to his full, imposing height. It was as if he suddenly had become physically larger. The expression on his face now was completely changed. In place of the fear there was serenity; in place of the awe there was majesty. He turned his piercing eyes, now flashing with the fire that Saul knew how to summon up from his depths, directly on his television audience. He slowly raised his arms. And Oscar flinched as he saw the lights go on in Saul’s hair.
Saul’s voice — but a voice entirely different from the one in which he had been giving his sermon — boomed out: “Behold! I am come again unto you, that you might live. Through this, my servant, I will speak to you.” Saul swung his right arm in toward his chest. “Hearken to me, and obey.”
With these last words, which went rolling out over the open-air ass
embly like a thunderclap echoing and re-echoing off distant mountains, the lights in his hair dimmed out. The expression on his face changed once again, from majesty back to awe, but this time mixed with wonder instead of fear. And he seemed at the same time to shrink an inch or so in stature. He stood speechless and apparently confused for another moment, then he turned and stumbled away from the pulpit, while a stricken-faced Jerry Caldwell hastened to take his place.
“My God!” exclaimed Adelaide. “Was that really Saul?” She was visibly shaken.
“Yep,” answered Oscar, feeling immensely better than he had just a minute earlier, “that was our Saul.”
“But there was light streaming from his head! He looked like a god!”
Oscar turned to look at Adelaide again. She appeared almost as stricken as Caldwell. To Oscar’s critical eye the halo effect had looked painfully tinny, just barely passable. He had not seen anything streaming from Saul’s head, just some lights going on in his hair which caused it to look a bit luminous. But Adelaide, not knowing the trickery involved, thought she had seen more. Apparently the power of suggestion had been at work with her. He hoped it had been at work with the rest of the television viewers as well.
Adelaide, still staring at the television screen, where Caldwell was awkwardly and woodenly attempting to recapture the audience, started to say something else, but Oscar quickly placed a hand over her mouth. Gently but firmly, he pushed her back down into the pillows. Then he pulled the blanket down, exposing the glorious swell of her breasts. His mouth hungrily sought one of her nipples, while his free hand reached under the blanket about her hips and tenderly caressed and probed her. In a few seconds she relaxed and then began responding eagerly to his caresses.
XXV
“Well, Saul, how do you plan to top last Sunday’s performance?” Harry wanted to know, when Oscar, Saul, Colleen, and he met in Oscar’s house three days later. “Will you levitate a mountain to impress the rubes the next time you’re on the air?”
“He’s going to take it easy on the miracles for a while,” Oscar answered. “The main thing we’ve got to do is get him established with his own program and build up his audience. I don’t want to risk blowing the whole thing with any more cheap tricks now. Caldwell is furious and is threatening to denounce Saul as a fraud if he goes into competition with him.”
“Oh, did Jerry figure out how you did your halo trick?” Harry turned to Saul. “Doesn’t he believe that you were really a medium for Jesus during your sermon?”
“That cynical little turd doesn’t believe anything, except that he was had,” Saul grinned. “Even though he was watching my part of the service on his backstage monitor, he hasn’t figured out what happened. He had to take the pulpit after me, and I headed straight for the rest room and got Oscar’s gadgetry out of my hair. Then I pretended I wasn’t feeling well and went home. After the service Caldwell was fit to be tied. The main thing he’s afraid of is that I’ll start my own program and drain off some of his donations. The phones at his place have been ringing off the hook around the clock ever since Sunday morning, with the faithful calling in to express their gratitude to Jerry for letting them hear Jesus speak through me. He knows what an effect I had on them, but he doesn’t know what to do about it. All he could say to me was, ‘God damn you, Rogers, god damn your ass, I’ll get even with you if you try to take advantage of this thing, god damn you!’ He’s still so mad he’s incoherent. I’ve been getting regular reports from one of his secretaries, who is convinced now that I am the true mouthpiece for Jesus.”
“Well, don’t disabuse her of that conviction,” Oscar laughed. “She can be useful. Now, Colleen, tell us what you’ve found out about getting Saul on the air.”
“Washington has been my one big success,” she replied. “There’s an empty Sunday-evening slot at WZY-TV, and they’re willing to sell the time to Saul. But besides that, I’ve been talking with Carl Hollis, who’s the sales manager for the Gospel Time Network. I believe that we can lease their satellite transponder for an hour of prime time a week, although Hollis hasn’t given me a firm answer yet. He says the network directors want to have an interview with Saul first, but it’s the one Christian network in the country that’s actually run by Christians, and I believe Saul will be able to get by them — especially since the network is having real financial problems now, and they need the money. If it goes, that’ll put us on about 370 local television stations around the country, but they’re nearly all very small stations, with rural and small-town audiences. They also have access to nearly 100 local cable systems, through their arrangement with Acme Cablevision and half a dozen smaller cable networks.
“The problem is getting Saul on the powerful independent stations in the big metropolitan areas — places like Chicago, Los Angeles, Nashville, Atlanta, where the biggest Fundamentalist audiences are. There’s real interest in Saul around the country now, but the stations in most of the big metro areas are being very cautious. They all know there’s some kind of hokum involved with Saul. It’s not that they object to hokum. They carry Moral Richards, and he pretends to cure cripples, restore sight, and perform other ‘miracles’ on his show. It’s just that Saul is an unknown factor. The Jews know that Richards is under control. He’s one of Israel’s biggest boosters. He has a vested interest in maintaining his pro-Israel line. But they don’t know about Saul, and they aren’t going to let him on the air until they’re sure he’s not dangerous to them. The green light at WZY was just a fluke. I’ve been dealing with the station manager there for years, and I vouched for Saul. That won’t work with the other big stations. It’s just like 1 was telling you at first.”
“Okay, so we’ll have to convince them. But I don’t see why that should be so hard. After all, Saul has been preaching with Caldwell, who phones the Israeli Embassy for permission to go to the bathroom.”
“He was with Caldwell for less than three months,” Colleen interjected. “He doesn’t have a vested interest in continuing to follow Caldwell’s line. What the Jews want is people who have the same interests they have. That’s the only way they’ll trust anyone.”
“Okay, we’ll have Saul make a tape in which he crawls on his belly for the Jews the way Caldwell and Richards and Braggart and all the others do. We’ll cook up a sermon for him in which he spells out his own theological position, and it’ll be a position even more subservient to the Jews than that of the rest of the evangelist pack. You can send the tape to the stations we want to sign up. We’ll make Saul so pro-Jewish that the thought of his turning on them will be inconceivable.”
“Aren’t you in danger of painting Saul into a corner if you do that?” Harry asked. “I mean, if Saul really does come on strong with the standard Judeo-Christian line, he’d lose his credibility if he suddenly switched and started talking out of the other side of his mouth.”
“Saul’s not going to pull a switch on the Jews,” Oscar retorted. “Jesus is. Besides, you’re really not talking about Christian Fundamentalists when you worry about being ideologically consistent. They’re perfectly capable of absorbing the wildest inconsistencies you can dream up, without batting an eyelash.”
Saul stroked his beard thoughtfully. “I think I can see a reasonable scenario for what you have in mind. But it seems to me that timing will be the most important factor for us. We need to get on the air now, while I’m still hot. But then we’ll also need to get Jesus back into the act very soon too. If I just keep dishing out the standard Caldwell pap for very long, I won’t stay hot. We can’t keep paying for air time forever, unless we keep the rubes on the edge of their seats. We’ll go broke.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. Caldwell and the rest are keeping the rubes’ attention with that same old pap, and they’re raking in hundreds of millions of dollars.”
“Billions,” Harry corrected Oscar. “Television evangelism is a six-billion-dollar industry.”
“Now, suppose we do get our own racket set up the way Caldwell ha
s his, and the audience is willing to keep paying for the pap,” Saul continued. “We don’t know anything about the business end of Caldwell’s operation. He didn’t establish himself overnight. He spent years building his organization and learning the tricks of his trade. I may be able to preach circles around him, but there’s a lot more to it than that. Our own studio facilities are fine for what we do, but they’re not up to Caldwell’s standard; they’re not really adapted for commercial broadcast work at all. To make the tape you want to send to the Jewish station owners — which should be as slick as possible — we’d have to use a commercial studio and crew. Where’s the money for that coming from?”
“I don’t know all the answers yet,” Oscar replied. “Keep the line open to Caldwell’s secretary. She should be able to give us some advice. I don’t see why we can’t hire a commercial studio for the first tape, then get the additional equipment we need to use our own studio for the broadcast tapes. Eventually, we’ll need our own studio crew anyway, if we’re to try any more special effects. As for an initial shot of money to get things started, there are some people I can call.” Actually, there weren’t; he had no definite ideas for raising money, but he was willing to do whatever might be necessary.
The conference lasted another three hours. It ended with a detailed assignment of responsibilities. Oscar was to raise at least $200,000 for production expenses and buying air time. Colleen was to continue negotiating with the religious network people and the independent station owners. Harry was to make the arrangements for studio facilities and begin rounding up the equipment Saul would need for their own studio. Saul was to work on a series of sermons.
Oscar was determined to push as hard as possible to win a major share of the Christian evangelical television audience for Saul within the next two or three months. He felt that an important part of their strategy was to pull listeners away from the other evangelists, to change their loyalties, before trying to change their ideas about Jews and other matters. If Saul came on too strong too soon, a lot of people might be influenced momentarily by him, but Caldwell and the other evangelists would still have their ears and would be able to convince many of them that Saul was a false prophet. Oscar wanted to weaken the opposition as much as possible before the real shooting started, so that Caldwell and the others would be preaching to empty pews.
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