rd<\/sup> street.\u201d The councilman said it while admiring the few championship rings he wore at all times.<\/p>\n\u201cIt\u2019s gotta go on for five to ten minutes. Nothing to get me in trouble with the papers, you understand?\u201d He circled a hand like it cradled a snifter of brandy, \u201cI\u2019m just looking for something civic minded. Got that?\u201d Then he added, \u201cAnd I don\u2019t have to tell a kid smart as you \u2018bout the importance of church to elections.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jim nodded \u201cyes\u201d with the involuntary enthusiasm of any pupil before his master. Though he hadn\u2019t considered it before, he found the claim instantly persuasive \u2013the importance of church to elections– and determined just as quickly he was up to the task. This time Jim would write something truly inspired; something good enough to make himself proud. He stood to his feet and accepted the offer.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell good,\u201d the councilman said. \u201cI\u2019ll be expecting my remarks come this Saturday night. Don\u2019t let me down.\u201d<\/p>\n
It was Thursday.<\/p>\n
Jim emerged onto the street and paced the sidewalk in front of City Hall, gathering his thoughts. He walked down Main Street, across an expansive green separating the little town from campus.\u00a0 A rich purple arrested the sunset sky and shone pink on the hills\u2014an almost daily phenomenon though he\u2019d never seen it for its proper majesty.<\/p>\n
Back at the dorm Jim readied his workspace, clearing his desk of everything but a pen, a yellow legal pad and a thesaurus. He finally sat and within an hour produced a full draft, the length of three hand-written pages.<\/p>\n
He leaned back in the chair crossing his feet on the edge of the desk, preparing to be moved by his own words but stopped reading after a single page. His first questions were to do with grammar and syntax but he found nothing wrong with the text on that basis. A stubborn ring of inauthenticity clung to every sentence like fleas to a dog and he needed to get rid of it.<\/p>\n
He thought to ask his roommate.<\/p>\n
\u201cHey, you wouldn\u2019t happen to know anything about sermons, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Frank sat on his bed reading: what text Jim did not know. Aside from common courtesies– keeping his space tidy, saying hello and goodbye when either came or went\u2014he hadn\u2019t taken an interest in Frank at all. When he asked Jim for clarification he said, \u201cI need to know a little bit more about how it sounds.\u201d<\/p>\n
Frank jabbed an index finger into the book. \u201cThat\u2019s it, isn\u2019t it? I always wondered what your deal was, the way you walk around here all undercover. Come to find out, you\u2019re from a different country. Well are you?\u201d he asked and Jim shook his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen how about your parents? Ya\u2019ll must be from the islands,\u201d but he said no again.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019re from the South. Plantations, the Great Emancipation, all of that,\u201d he said, trying to sound humorous, but Frank\u2019s expression changed from mild amusement to that of a confused lap dog.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow can you be from here and not know a thing about\u2014\u201c Jim by then wore a slight grimace and Frank stopped. \u201cSorry, man. Point taken. You\u2019re right. I shouldn\u2019t have assumed,\u201d then bounded from bed to his feet.<\/p>\n
\u201cAlright. I guess when I think about what a normal sermon sounds like, it\u2019s a lil\u2019 something like this. Now don\u2019t judge me too harshly. It\u2019s been a while since I heard the good word so I\u2019m a little out of practice.\u201d He bounced on the balls of his feet and cracked his neck like a prize-fighter before the bell. He pointed directly at Jim:<\/p>\n
I\u2019ll tell you something, huh! \u2018Bout the glory of God, huh!<\/em><\/p>\nGod will make a way, huh! Out of no way, huh!<\/em><\/p>\nGod delivered Daniel, huh! From the lion\u2019s den, huh!<\/em><\/p>\nGave Joshua the victory, huh! In the battle of Jericho, huh!<\/em><\/p>\nDidn\u2019t he do it, ah!<\/em><\/p>\nDidn\u2019t he do it, ah!<\/em><\/p>\nHalleluuuuujah!<\/em><\/p>\nFrank\u2019s voice bellowed pulling meaning into itself and he sang the last word in a flurry of operatic notes, bending over as each one perused a greater depth. Jim patted his jaw to assure that his mouth wasn\u2019t open, so wrapped was he by the sermonette.\u00a0 Of an instant Frank had transformed in Jim\u2019s mind from a negligible daily presence to an orb of radiating interest. \u201cIt was a little off but you get the idea,\u201d he said hopping back onto the bed. Jim would never have guessed that all this time such a remarkable talent dwelt within his roommate- a talent that he seemed to wear with such casual indifference. He thanked Frank and returned his gaze to the three pages. It crossed his mind that as easily as Frank had spoken so might he have written the speech and for the first time since arriving to the school Jim felt a small but undeniable pang of envy.<\/p>\n
He barely slept that night, filled as he was with nerves about the enormity of the assignment and the new realization that finishing would be harder than he\u2019d originally thought.<\/p>\n
What he needed was context.<\/p>\n
Instead of class the next day Jim went to the library.<\/p>\n
Since there was no time to read at any depth Jim opted for breadth. Focusing on protestant theology and the sermonic literature of the Southern Baptist tradition, Jim would identify the major controversies of each discourse. He read summaries first then moved on to the monographs. He read the work of James Thompson, Joe Barnhart and Arthur Emery. He perused obscure 18th<\/sup> century texts\u2014Oliver Noble on the obligations of ministers and the lectures of Harold Rowly\u2014 reading so fast his head ticked back and forth like he disagreed with every page, writing all the while. He slammed each book when he was through so loudly that one student dared intervene. It was a polite note he left at the side of the desk reading, \u201cFor the love of God, would you please stop?\u201d<\/p>\nIt was around closing time when he finished, having amassed 50 pages of meticulously organized notes. With these materials Jim was more than sure he\u2019d filled in the most glaring gaps of his knowledge. With them he sought to produce a speech that according to a slightly revised standard, at least wouldn\u2019t make him cringe.<\/p>\n
With Frank cleared out for the night the room was all his own. Jim clicked on the lights taking a moment to enjoy the solitude, when the phone rang. He didn\u2019t want to answer but what if it was an emergency? The staff at St. Andrew\u2019s Hospital, by then his mother\u2019s full-time residence, had warned him about this possibility. It turned out that the strangeness that invaded her cognition was only part of the problem\u2014a mere symptom of a devastating malaise that over the months had destroyed her nervous system, leaving her paralyzed and bed-ridden. He didn\u2019t know what to expect with these calls, whether it would be his mother on a wild rant, a painfully detailed nurse\u2019s update or worse.<\/p>\n
After the fourth ring he finally picked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cJimmy Jam, my man!\u201d It was the councilman. \u201cScreening your calls, I see. You ain\u2019t caught up in no mess are you? Listen here. All you have to say is, \u2018I was just thinking about you, girl.\u2019 Believe me, it works every time\u2026\u201d he laughed and so did Jim, relieved. \u201cAnyhow, just calling to check up on you, boy. How\u2019s it going with my remarks?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cFine sir,\u201d Jim answered. \u201cEverything\u2019s just fine.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell I\u2019m counting on you, now. I look forward to hearing it tomorrow night,\u201d and just that abruptly the councilman ended the call.<\/p>\n
He began immediately rifling through stacks of notes, twirling a pen to help jog his thoughts, then set them aside to write. Having thusly prepared, he hoped it would take no more than two times the length of the speech to get it done but hours went by, and still there was nothing. While Frank and all the other co-eds partied, Jim spent the night staring at a blank page. This was also new. Never before had he taken the time to learn something and not have assimilated the contents.\u00a0 He thought for an instant that he was cursed but this was illogical. The methods Jim used to transform what he read into usable information just wasn\u2019t suited to the topic. The issue could be no more or less complicated.<\/p>\n
On waking the next morning at his chair, the desk lamp tanning his skin, Jim stood to put on his shoes. He stuffed keys in his pocket but didn\u2019t lock the door on the way out. He walked in an unusual hurry from the quad and around the student center. He passed the main academic building and walked through the green at the end of which sat the Tabernacle.<\/p>\n
He walked through the lobby and into the tall, perfect stillness of the sanctuary. Suddenly aware of his haggard appearance Jim stuffed his shirt in his pants heading back to the reverend\u2019s quarters. A couple sat in the anteroom holding hands, ogling each other. They were both rather large on the bench. With nowhere to sit Jim waited near the door. When it opened he blocked the way, slamming a fist on the ledge.<\/p>\n
\u201cI need to talk immediately,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
The reverend stood without speaking, unsure if this was just a garden-variety lunatic or a real troublemaker on his hands.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m writing this speech for councilman Wallace but I\u2014\u201c the reverend raised a hand, cutting him off.<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know if you cared to notice young man, but this couple has been waiting to speak with me. You\u2019ll have to wait your turn.\u201d By then the paramours had gotten up from the bench and stood at the door, their eyes volleyed between the two men when either spoke.<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you don\u2019t<\/em> understand,\u201d Jim was nearly shouting. \u201cI don\u2019t know the first thing about any of this. Not about Jesus and not about the church. What do you expect me to do?\u201d<\/p>\n\u201cIt sounds to me like you have a much bigger problem than I can help you with right now.\u201d Just then the lady used a hip to wedge past Jim and the man followed her inside. \u201cLook,\u201d the reverend continued, \u201cI\u2019m booked for the rest of the day but if you want to talk about your Christian walk, feel free to contact my secretary.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd make an appointment!\u201d the lady shouted.<\/p>\n
The reverend gestured to close the door but Jim lodged a foot inside before he\u2019d shut it all the way, \u201cBut what about the speech?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
Just then the reverend\u2019s brow turned severe and his voice was tense. \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d he said. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you just try\u2026 something\u2026 civic minded!\u201d Jim breathed in his retort but the reverend slammed the door in his face and the sound went booming down the hall.<\/p>\n
Jim sat on a mahogany pew in the sanctuary. It wasn\u2019t supposed to be this way, he thought. He\u2019d prioritized and studied. He organized his reading and sought help, but not just in this sense. Jim thought again about the councilman\u2019s statement. Really, it was not supposed to be this way. Not where the colonists fled; to Provincetown, Philadelphia\u2014land of the first amendment and the establishment clause; where Everson triumphed over New Jersey and the States over Reynolds. While he\u2019d accepted the claim off hand, sitting at the front of the church it baffled him\u2014 if prayer was not allowed in school then why was political speech allowed in church?<\/p>\n
The idea filled Jim with a rush of inspiration but no– there was the problem of the blameless man from Atlanta. Then memory hit. The kitchen table. A lamp dangling overhead. Jim –nine– stirring a bowl of navy beans. And his mother. Head cocked, a shoulder hunched lifting the phone to her ear. Face smug the way it got when she talked about the old days. \u201cAnd they were blind fools,\u201d she said. \u201cFight fire with fire, I always say. How many of our people still getting the back end and he<\/em> wants us to just lay down in surrender? No, I wasn\u2019t never going to nobody\u2019s march,\u201d the sound rang in his ears all those years later.<\/p>\nHe\u2019d spent his life resisting her indoctrination. He never saw himself as anything but immune to her words. His mother had not cursed Jim, only obliged him to live in her company. By affecting the atmosphere of his life, she controlled a domain of thought that with all his might he would never overcome. He thought of his mother and surged with hate.<\/p>\n
Night fell. Jim looked to the clock. He was supposed to meet the councilman in less than an hour, but he had nothing to show. It wasn\u2019t the school nor was it the place that was so bad, he realized, but he was himself fundamentally lacking. He dropped his face into his hands and rubbed his eyes with the fat of his palms, finally admitting he\u2019d failed. There was nothing left to do but call Wallace and tell him straight up.\u00a0 There would be no speech after all. He picked up the phone and began to dial though all there was on the other end was emptiness.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs anybody there?\u201d The voice was low and raspy, oddly clear.<\/p>\n
\u201cMom, it\u2019s me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh\u2026\u201d she sighed, chuckling \u201cI didn\u2019t hear the phone ring\u2026 Son?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes mom?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen are you coming home?\u201d Jim could hear the bleeping of machines in the background.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t mom, I\u2019m here at school remember?\u201d Again he felt a rising tide of anger. She had made him go there after all, and for what? So he could be some place close to his identity, she said. But he\u2019d never felt so outside himself in all his life.<\/p>\n
He hoped she would sense his contempt but of all things she asked him to recite. \u201cYou know the one I like best,\u201d she said. Jim wanted to refuse her request, he thought he\u2019d unlearned those incantations long ago, but the words bubbled up and formed crisp in his mouth:<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\nHave we not opened your breast,<\/em><\/p>\nAnd removed from you your burden<\/em><\/p>\nWhich weighed down your back?<\/em><\/p>\nAnd raised high your fame?<\/em><\/p>\nSo verily with hardship there is ease,<\/em><\/p>\nSo when you have finished from your occupation, stand up for worship,<\/em><\/p>\nAnd to your Lord turn all your intentions.<\/em><\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n <\/p>\n
All except the machines were quiet when he was through. She began to shudder and coo, then her voice clicked, robotically. He knew the routine too well. She was locked in<\/em>. \u201cThe Serpent,\u201d she said, an accusation. \u201c The serpent\u2026 is loose! The serpent is loose\u2026 taking the souls\u2026 of men!\u201d she groveled. \u201cKnocking on windows. On the rooftops, it swoops down the chimney sweeps!\u201c Jim heard the monitors accelerate. He wondered when the nurses would stop what they were doing and notice that his mother was having what they call a psychotic episode.<\/p>\n\u201cThey tried\u2026\u201d she continued, \u201cThey tried to take you\u2026 from me. But God\u2026 He would not let you stray.\u201d Then her voice was sweet. \u201cMy beautiful boy. Did I ever tell you\u2026 you came into the world singing?\u201d She paused as if waiting for him to answer, then uttered with a cast like drifting off to sleep,<\/p>\n
\u201cYour name means Wise Servant of Allah. Hakim Abdullah. Always remember that.\u201d<\/p>\n
He tried to conjure his hatred again but couldn\u2019t. It was not the monster he remembered lying there, helpless in her hospital bed, her pulse again slow and steady. He began to feel sorry for his mother. Jim wouldn\u2019t blame her for religion anymore. He saw her only fault was choosing the wrong one.<\/p>\n
Yet somehow, and for reasons he would later try to understand, he wrote the entire speech that night. The paragraphs came whole, in magnificent blocks of sculpted prose. They poured from his pen as if it were tethered to invisible string led without him self. He read it over and over to ensure it felt natural. When morning cracked on the horizon he showered and dressed. He ran from the dorm to the church, locking the bedroom door as the phone rang– too late, he thought, to stay back and answer.<\/p>\n
He arrived to find Wallace in the parking lot, stony faced and shadowy under an umbrella. Wallace snatched the rain-dotted cards from Jim without speaking a word. Once they were inside he pointed to a spot at the front of the church and told Jim simply, mechanically to sit.<\/p>\n
Church would proceed with a customary flair though Jim was too filled with nerves to enjoy the clapping and singing. The reverend stood to speak and the people hollered at his oration. One woman fell to the floor shouting before him. He considered helping her up before realizing it may not have been the point.<\/p>\n
Then it was the councilman\u2019s turn. He\u2019d been ornery all morning, though instantly a smile was plastered on his face as he rose to the podium. He began \u201cGod is good all the time!\u201d and the people replied, \u201cAnd all the time God is good!\u201d<\/p>\n
It went off without a hitch. Wallace added a few zingers, though he mostly stuck to the script. Afterward he found Jim standing alone at the back of the sanctuary. \u201cSomething\u2019s not exactly right with you kid, but you sure can write. You had me sweating and carrying on, but it ain\u2019t no thang. Next time I\u2019m going to get my speeches well in advance.\u201d<\/p>\n
Just then there was a violent clap of thunder and pouring rain soon followed. The councilman asked if Jim would like a ride back to the dorm. He declined. \u201cYou\u2019re the one with places to be,\u201d he said and then turned from the councilman toward the door.<\/p>\n
The lobby was filled with people all waiting for the storm to pass, but he found a path to the exit.<\/p>\n
\u201cWait son,\u201d It was an older woman dressed in white, lace-gloved hands raised to block his way, her eyes all a panic. \u201cI wouldn\u2019t test the weather, you\u2019ll get pneumonia out there child.\u201d<\/p>\n
Jim thanked the woman for her concern, looking past her toward something invisible behind the sheet of rain. He undid the last button of his suit jacket and headed straight into the downpour so heavy and loud it was like walking into static.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
![\"tabernacle-300x214\"](\"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/11\/Tabernacle-300x214.jpg\")
<\/a>Everyone applauded Jim for tenacity in this work, except his mother. Before her descent into madness she told him, \u201cYou must think every little thing you study is gonna leap into your head, wanting to be understood.\u201d He heard the remark and thought it typical. His mother had no facility with ideas, stunted as she was by a dependence on strong religion. This to him was as dangerous as superstition. She forced Jim to join in on her daily rituals but he always resented this.\u00a0 He felt it betrayed his truest creed– that questions of being which most people laid at the feet of God were best answered, not by one inspired soul, but all the great minds of history combined.<\/p>\n