Meadowlarks by Thomas Holladay (novels to improve english TXT) 📗

their Bibles. “This chapter reminds us of how God sometimes allows his people to be burdened by terrors beyond their control. It reminds us of how all things fall under the authority of God’s infinite creation. Lucifer himself was created by God and cast down to earth with his rebellious horde in a time before history began.

“Over the summer, after the death of Kidro, we studied the Book of Job. We learned that Lucifer might not touch one of God’s own without permission. We also learned how hopeless our efforts are to fathom God’s divine purpose. Thus, we pray for his protection and strive to guide our lives toward righteousness.

“Since before my arrival, you have followed a ritual path that bore fruit, perhaps a path inspired by God. When this ritual was interrupted, disaster followed. Whether our protection came from our faith in this ritual or from some complex quirk of nature doesn’t matter here. In the end, all things great or small come from our creator. By practicing this ritual, we do not seek in any way to question his divine purpose.” He thrust out his chin and looked at the congregation.

Everybody stood.

Mom and Jason stood too.

“Let us pray.” His voice grew loud and practiced. “Oh glorious Lord, our beloved Savior, protect us on this dark night, while the moon is full and bright. Keep us safe within and without, and forgive us our obliquity. Though ritual might abide, let us not thrust Thee aside.”

Everybody said, “Amen.”

Jason and Mom said it late, softly.

Led by the vicar’s booming voice, the congregation sang, Leaning on Jesus, without piano or organ accompaniment. The singing still sounded harmonious and beautiful. It must have been practiced too. When they finished singing, everybody turned and filed out the door, whispering back and forth, glancing at Jason and his mom, probably talking about how funny they'd dressed.

Jason looked around but John Crow had already left.

They followed the others outside and along a footpath across a small field of uncut grass. Chipmunks poked their heads out of holes to watch.

Everybody filed into the long log building. Four fat wood posts held up the center of the roof. Three long tables had been placed between the posts with platters of food and plates and utensils and stuff.

Some of the women removed aluminum foil and cling-wrap, uncovering fried chicken, fish, beef, corn, salads and a lot of deserts.

People lined up and grabbed plates, forming a long line.

Mom pulled Jason back outside.

Okay.

Jason and his mom didn’t like eating with strangers and he wasn’t hungry anyway.

Mom pulled Jason along the front porch to where the vicar was talking to a small group of women. Seeing their approach, the other women smiled and strolled inside.

Mom stepped closer to the vicar. "Do we call you Mr. Twilby, Pastor Twilby, Dr. Twilby, or what?"

"Most here call me Vicar."

Mom smiled and nodded. “I’m curious to learn more about your school.”

Vicar pointed with his head. “We’re standing in front of the main building. On average, our pupils post the highest test scores in the state.”

“Who would I speak with about Jason?”

“That would be me. As I said in church, I am also the schoolmaster. I earned my Ph.D. in theology and church history at the University of Aberdeen in Scotland. I earned my master’s in education at Oxford. I am a Rhodes Scholar, madam.” He thrust his chin up, folded his hands behind his back and rocked up and down on the balls of his feet. Maybe he expected applause or something.

“How many teachers are on your staff?”

“Myself and Dr. La Rosa. She teaches math and science across the street at her clinic. She also serves as our community doctor and works for the county coroner’s office.” He pointed past the church and trees to a one-story brick and glass building across the street. “I teach the three Rs, reading, rhetoric, and religion. Tomorrow being the first day of the new school year, we’ll give Jason a series of tests to evaluate his status.”

“Jason’s a good student. He’s always had very high marks. He’s going into the fifth grade.”

The vicar stared at Jason, his face etched with doubt. “We shall see, madam. We shall see.”

“What about sports, or art, or music?”

“We do have an archery team and some of the older children belong to 4-H. We’re much too small for team sports, like basketball, baseball and football.”

That’s all Jason needed to hear. His attention switch turned off and he walked off the porch into the yard.

Those birds were still fluttering at the top of the church and all around the top of that big rock, still looking at Jason.

He shook off a chill.

Some of the kids had gathered around that pair of giant trees near the road, sitting above the ground on lofty roots, eating lunch.

The grown-ups stood around in small groups eating and talking, not paying much attention to their kids.

Mom was still talking with Vicar.

Jason unbuttoned his jacket and strolled across the yard toward the trees and the other kids. The Embry twins saw him coming and started shoving one another, still having fun, saying stuff Jason couldn't hear. The other kids stayed clear of the twins.

Jason walked up to them. “Hi, I’m Jason Potter. I’m nine.”

“I’m Jake,” said one of the twins, shoving his brother. “This is my brother, Peter, ‘cause he’s a big Peter.”

“I’m not.” Peter shoved back. They both had big front teeth. Jason couldn’t see any differences. “Call me Pete. We’re eleven.” He gave Jake another shove, back and forth. Pete reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. “Jake bet me you couldn’t do this. I bet you could.”

“Do what?”

“Jake bet you can’t carve your name in this Sequoia. The bark’s too tough.” He opened his pocket knife and offered it to Jason.

“Awe, I got my own.” Jason reached behind, pulled out his new hunting knife and proudly displayed it to the twins. “Willis Donner gave it to me.”

The twins stared at the knife and at Jason,