by Dee Dawning
Chapter Two – Saved
Feminism encourages women to leave their husbands, kill their children, practice witchcraft, destroy capitalism and become lesbians. Rev. Pat Robertson
Jamie Lee felt uncomfortable going by himself, so he convinced Tommy to accompany him. Waiting for Tommy to pick him up, he grew impatient and called him.
"Hello."
"Tommy, Where are you? We need to be there in twenty-five minutes."
"Stop worryin'. I'm only five minutes away en the revival is only a few miles further."
"Tell ya what. We're gonna need to take two cars anyway since Missy said something about saving me personally. I may stay over."
"Yeah right, you're just gonna try to get into her panties."
"That, too. I'll just meet you in front of the entrance."
When Tommy arrived, Jamie Lee already waited in front of the huge tent. The grounds were busy as a state fair. They got in one of the lines to the ticket takers. When they were next in line, Missy's brother, Michael came over to them and said, "It's okay, Sister Evelyn, I'll take care of these two sinners."
Michael held out his hand.
As Jamie Lee shook it, Tommy questioned, "Sinners?"
Michael glanced at Tommy. "Everyone's a sinner—even my father. We do the best we can.
Michael smiled. "Glad you could make it, Jamie Lee. Missy asked me to see that you were seated and to take care of your comfort. I thought you'd be alone. We'll have to find another seat for your friend here."
He looked back to Tommy, held out his hand and smiled widely. "Hi, I'm Michael Riverton, Reverend Riverton's son. Glad you could join us. Have you found salvation through God?"
Tommy beamed. He shook Michael's hand and replied, "My pleasure. Tommy Parkson. I sure hope so, but you nevah know until the big day comes, do ya?"
Michael winked. "That's why it's a good idea to get saved more than once, Tommy. There's no limit to the number of times you can accept God's grace. Follow me, fellas. We have some special seating set up for our VIPs."
Jamie Lee and Tommy looked at each other, lifted their eyebrows, and followed Michael into the huge tent and right up onto the stage. There were three concentric rows of cushioned folding chairs on the left side of the stage. Already seated were about a dozen people, of whom Jamie Lee recognized only two. City Councilman Ronaldo Aldred, and old Doc Taylor, who was Jamie Lee's pediatrician in his younger days.
Michael led them to the back row of the VIP section. "Wait here a minute while I locate another chair." When Michael left them, he stepped over to a burly man with long gray-brown hair in a ponytail and several tattoos on his forearms. The man turned and left the stage while Michael returned.
"I'm sorry. I sent Bill after another chair. We have these things choreographed to the tee and something unexpected can throw us. Since everyone isn't here yet, go ahead and take a seat. When Bill brings the chair just slide over."
They sat down. "Can I get you some refreshments?" asked Michael.
Tommy said, "Nothing for me, thanks."
"Do you have beer?"
"I'm afraid not. We're a progressive church, but not that progressive. I'm afraid I can only offer you coffee, tea, water and Seven-Up." Michael placed his right hand beside his mouth as if he were telling a secret. "The church has stock in Seven-Up."
Jamie Lee shook his head. "I guess I'll pass for now. Thanks for asking."
After Michael left, Jamie Lee glanced around. The tent appeared to be half full and filling fast. Everyone seemed to be ready to have a good time, smiling and shaking the hands of those around them.
When most of the seats were occupied and only stragglers were left to filter in, he saw Cheryl. A surge of white-hot anger flashed through him. The prissy bitch. I ought to go down there and wring her skinny neck.
Then before he could act upon his rage, the lights dimmed. Their host, Michael Riverton came out wearing what had to be a thousand dollar western tailored suit. When the band started playing, everyone started clapping. One by one, those capable stood, applauding the progeny of the reverend, who waved and bowed as if he'd done something spectacular.
Jamie Lee was in awe of the enthusiasm of the crowd. After a minute, the applause subsided and Michael spoke. "Thank you, thank you very much, I can tell we're going to have a rip-snortin' happening tonight. In all honesty, I must admit you are clapping for the wrong person. I'm Michael Riverton, the reverend's son, merely on stage to introduce God's messenger, Reverend Sonny Riverton." A smattering of clapping started again. "Therefore, without further adieu, here is the great one, my beloved father and mentor, the honorable Reverend Sonny Riverton."
Applause erupted even louder than before. The room grew dark and a solitary spotlight flashed to a side entrance of the tent. There stood a man, probably in his mid fifties in a flashy blue sequined suit and a silver-haired pompadour, waving to the boisterous crowd. When he advanced toward the stage, waving in every direction to those craning their necks, the band cranked out "Onward Christian Soldiers."
At the back of the four-foot-high stage, rested a stage set replica of Jesus' head and shoulders. When he reached the stage, the reverend disappeared behind the set. There must have been some stairs and a door through the set, because a few seconds later he emerged through a mist that formed in front of Jesus.
From there he went to Michael, put his arm around him, and took the mic. He waved his hand as if he wanted the lively adoration to end and maybe he did when he attempted to speak over the ruckus. Finally, the crowd quieted. In a deep melodic baritone voice, he said, "Thank you, Thank you very much, Ty-y-y-ler-r-r, Texas." A smattering of applause broke out but quickly subsided. "I love Tyler. Sorry, we haven't been here for awhile, but we've been so busy with the TV show we haven't had time to tour. But now, we have time and here we are in Ty-y-y-ler-r-r, Texas, and I feel blessed to be back."
"Now, let me ask you, how many of you God lovin', God fearin' folks watch our TV show, Soldiers of the Lord?" The reverend stifled the clapping with a stern hand. "No folks. I want to see hands; and remember, God will know if you lie."
About twenty percent of the hands went up.
"Fair enough. It's my own fault for not being here for a while. But I swear to you, the Big Tent of the Lord will be back every year or my name isn't Sonne-e-e-e-e!"
After a short standing ovation, he continued. "Now, those that watch 'The Soldiers of the Lord,' and those that came four years ago when we were last here, know that I don't usually quote scripture—chapter and verse. Honestly, for almost every verse that says one thing, I could quote another verse that seems to contradict it. No, what I do is explain what God expects from us, his humble servants. For starters, God expects us to be moral creatures. By that, I mean…
The reverend spoke for about fifteen minutes, explaining what God wants of his flock. After that, he introduced a man who sang, 'You gave me a Mountain.' Next, he introduced a woman who soloed, 'Ave Maria.' Then together they sang a duet of 'Peace in the Valley.' Afterward a choir joined them for a grand performance of 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic,' which brought a rousing round of applause from the audience.
The entertainment continued in the form of exhibitions. A group of four put on a tumbling exercise and a man displayed his dexterity by maintaining spinning plates on up to ten separate poles.
Jamie Lee was getting bored, until the reverend came back out for the remaining portion of his address. This was the part Jamie Lee wanted to see most—the passing of the collection plates. "The first thing our Lord expects from us is generosity. Generosity to those less fortunate than us, the sick, the infirm, the poor, the hopeless. Donations to 'Soldiers of the Lord' help all of these unfortunate souls. However, most of all, God cherishes money given freely to him, in care of our ministry. Dig deep. Deep as you can. Until it hurts, for God loves and helps those that hurt. For those that have special requests, a notepad is attached to the collection plate. Write your request then place it in the collection plate. Those that need heali
ng, write your name and what needs healing. Our volunteers will pass a plate by all of you. When they finish, we are going to save some souls and perform some healing. Are you ready for that?"
The audience replied with a modicum of yeses and amens.
"What? I didn't hear you. Are you ready for that?"
The audience exploded in affirmation and the reverend smiled.
"That was good. I heard you that time. Now, it's time to introduce you to my lovely daughters, Missy and Bobbi Sue. They are my channelers. God works his magic through them. Let's hear a big hand for Missy and Bobbie Sue."
The throng rose, then, clapped for a good minute when the two ladies, dressed in white dresses and heels with a white ribbon in their hair, entered the stage the same way Sonny did. Mixed in with the applause this time were whistles and catcalls, which prompted the reverend to calm them down.
Missy glanced over to Jamie Lee and cast a broad, white smile just before her father signaled to the band conductor to start. They started with the old Dionne Warwick song, 'What the World Needs Now is Love.' Then the choir joined in. The band played four songs while some dozen or more ushers passed the collection plates.
They orchestrated everything to raise money. Jamie Lee's heart thumped in his chest from excitement. The audience handed over their money as if their life depended on it. Maybe they believed it did. The guy sitting next to him put a hundred dollar bill in the plate. When they handed the plate to him he quickly tried to assess the haul as he deposited his dollar—six or seven hundred dollars from twenty- four people. If they raised even a third of that from the rest of the audience, it would add up to almost ten thousand dollars. Not a bad haul for a Sunday morning.
Jamie Lee nudged his friend. "Man, I gotta get into this racket. Look at them raking in the dough."
Tommy, who seemed caught up in the minute, turned to Jamie Lee with a tight-lipped frown. "I thought ya didn't believe in God?"
"I believe in the green God—money!"
Tommy's eyes thinned. "How cynical."
"Hey, I'm a realist."
After passing the collection plates, one of the ushers brought up a bowl with all the slips from the audience and handed it to Reverend Riverton. He pulled a slip and called the name, "Janette Carlson. Come up so God can heal you, through us, his servants."
An attractive matronly, middle-aged woman stood up. Focusing on no one, she yelled, "That's me," She walked slowly, if judiciously toward the stage. An usher helped her up the stage and she carefully walked to the three Rivertons. The reverend divulged that she suffered from chronic advanced diabetes causing her vision to deteriorate.
The audience seemed mesmerized. You could hear a pin drop as the reverend led Ms. Carlson to a chair, where he gently helped her to sit. Each of the sisters took one of her arms with one of their hands and put their other arm around dad, who crowded in close.
The reverend and ladies' conversation was inaudible to Jamie Lee and likely everyone else, too, since he sat in the closest group. Sonny placed his hands on the lady's head just below her ears and appeared to be speaking to her earnestly. Then he placed one hand behind her head and the other on her forehead. He looked skyward and yelled, "Lord Jesus, I beg of you. Look down upon thy servant, Janette Carlson and heal her—make her whole again. After pushing on her forehead, he stepped back as if Jesus had said something to him and said, "Thank you, Lord."
Ms Carlson shook her head like snapping out of a trance, and cried, "My God, I can see. She hugged the reverend, wildly. "Thank you. I don't know how to thank you properly. You saved my life."
The reverend adamantly shook his head. "Not so. We were merely the vehicles. Our Lord Jesus is the one who healed you. Now you must pay him back with your love."
Ms Carlson embraced each of the sisters, saying in between, "Oh, I do. I love God more than life. Thank you, God."
On cue, the audience let it rip. The largest and longest sustained applause yet, and while everyone still clapped, she exited the platform with a vitality that wasn't evident on her trip to the stage.
The cycle repeated. Call a name, someone would stand or jump up if able, acting like the winners of the Publisher's Clearing House Contest. They came up on the stage and, with varied techniques from the agents of God, were cured of whatever ailed them.
The audience, apparently transfixed because of the healings, fascinated Jamie Lee. I can do this!
After the seventeenth and last healing, the reverend invited everyone to line up for salvation. Tommy and Jamie Lee rose, but Missy shook her head at Jamie Lee and mouthed. No. When Jamie Lee hesitated, Tommy asked, "You coming?"
"Go ahead. Missy wants me to wait."
Tommy nodded and hurried to get in line.
The routine went generally the same. The lucky person whose turn it was to be saved went up on the stage and stood in a circle. The reverend stepped in front of the initiate with a bucket of water into which the person stuck both hands. When they withdrew their hands, they would rub their face with their wet hands. Missy, who stood beside the Godly recruit, holding an arm, presented a towel for them to dry off. Bobbi Sue, on the other side, took the used towel and put it in a basket. Then, like he did on the initial healing, the reverend placed a hand behind the novitiate's head and while reciting something, pushed on his or her forehead with his fingers. Some of the newcomers fell backward into the waiting arms of Michael.
Jamie Lee decided to count the new followers and on the forty-sixth devotee, a flash of heat coursed through him. His heart skipped a beat as the bitch—Cheryl—came up. What the fuck does she need saving for? She's a virgin. Probably coveting my dick. Jamie Lee released an evil chuckle.
There were only six more proselytes after Cheryl. The revival closed with 'Amazing Grace' and everyone seemed exhilarated when they exited.
Jamie Lee turned to Tommy who'd returned to his seat after the ceremony. "So what did the reverend say when he saved you?"
"He said somethin' like, dear Lord Jesus, Please accept the sinner Thomas Parkson as your humble servant en forgive—"
"You ready, hot stuff?" Jamie Lee felt a tug on his sleeve. They both looked up at Missy, whose bright, white smile lit up the tent.
Jamie Lee stood and splayed his hands to his side. "Gotta go, bro. Duty calls. We'll finish what we were talking about later. All right?"
"Sure, no problem. I saw Cheryl here. I think I'll see if I can find her."
Jamie Lee didn't like that one bit, but with Missy tugging on his arm there wasn't much he could do.
Chapter Three – Salvation
I believe that all of us are born heterosexual, physically created with a plumbing that's heterosexual.
Rev. Jerry Falwell
Jamie Lee put his arm around Missy. "Where're we going, cupcake?"
She started walking toward the side stage stairs. "We're headed to the sanctuary."
"I thought this was the sanctuary."
When they reached the stairs, she took Jamie Lee's hand and led him down the stairs. "This is God's sanctuary. We're going to my sanctuary. My motor home. "
He smiled as visions of the two of them entwined in a bed, returned.
Missy pulled the tent flap back enough to slip through sideways and dragged Jamie Lee behind her. To his surprise, it had started to get dark, which meant the revival had lasted over three hours. She made a right turn and followed the edge of the tent to the corner then stopped. "Well, what'dya think?"
Jamie Lee came up behind her, put his free arm around her waist, and snuggled his head against her neck. "About what?" he whispered.
"Good golly, didn't God give you eyes? Mmmm, you're getting fresh, but it feels good."
Jamie Lee looked around the corner. There sat a huge motor home, with Missy written on the side in large silver letters on a pink background. "Wow, that's where you live?"
"Ah huh. But only when we tour." She turned around and faced Jamie Lee. "Now, I can tell from the look in your eyes that you think you're going to
make love to me. I suppose a hunk like you is used to getting his way, but we need to get things straight between us and I don't mean your penis. I can tell you are bad for me, but I can't resist those sad brown eyes and that sideways smile. I still have a boyfriend, so we are not…I repeat, not going to make love. You got that straight?"
"I guess, but what are we going to do?"
"Well for starters I'm gonna save your ass and I'll wager your tight little buns need a lot of saving. Am I right?"
Jamie Lee felt a flush of warmth course through him, but didn't answer.
Missy unlocked the front door and stepped into the mammoth vehicle. Jamie Lee followed. "Wow! This is something else. What kind of motor home is it?"
"It's called a Zephyr. Its forty feet long and costs more than the average house."
"Man, this is luxurious. Do you drive it?"
"Heavens, no. Daddy has someone drive it for me."
Missy took Jamie Lee's hand again and dragged him to a built-in sofa. She sat down and pulled him down next to her. She tucked one leg under the other in such a way that she almost faced him.
He looked at her. "I'd like to be your driver."
She twined her fingers on Jamie Lee's shoulder. "Would you now?"
"You bet, and when I'm not driving I could help set up. Do you think your daddy would hire me?"
Missy leaned in closer. "He might, if I batted my lashes at him." She closed her eyes, while moving her lips toward his. She sighed when their lips touched. She parted her lips slightly, inviting his tongue to join hers. He could feel her hands tensing on his shoulder when he slid his tongue through the small opening between her teeth and touched hers.
Slowly, she pulled away. "Mmm, that was nice. I'd better get you saved before you have another sin to excise. I have a feeling you're a real bad boy, aren't you?"
Jamie Lee laughed. "I never thought so. I just like to have fun and feel good." He put his hand on her breast. "I'll bet you could make me feel real good."
