AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The tap of the microphone brought her attention back to the service. Looking over, Reegan noted the new youth pastor Walter Vance was taking the pulpit. Pastor Vance nodded at Pastor Barrett. The young man of God’s enthusiasm at giving his first sermon was hard to miss.
“The reading today is from Genesis 2.18.” Pastor Vance waited while everyone found the place in the Bible. “The Lord God said ‘it is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.’”
Pastor Vance gave a pointed look to Elsbeth who had taken her seat in the front pew. Reegan knew the man was interested in the pastor’s daughter. She knew the two had gone on a few dates. But Beth had kept a tight lip on the relationship … or perhaps it was only a friendship? Reegan wasn’t sure of Beth’s level of interest in Walter.
“The companionship of women was designed by God,” Walter continued. “God made Eve, but that wasn't the end of it. Adam and Eve made sons and they begat sons, who begat sons, who begat sons, who begat …”
The audience giggled and chuckled as Pastor Vance took a deep inhale to replenish his lungs after all the begetting. Reegan couldn’t deny that the man knew his way around a pulpit.
“Until eventually we were all here. We are all made up of different chords of the same music. We are meant to be played together. In our community, in our relationships, we are called to come together in harmony and unity. You're not meant to be alone.”
Pastor Vance paused for effect. He repeated that last phrase, pointing to people in the pews for effect.
“We are meant to serve. It is His design. He called for us to come together in harmony and unity with one another and be one. I don’t know about you, but that makes my heart sing.”
A chorus of amens sounded through the hall, rising to the rafters. Reegan chanced a look at the three guests clad in uniform. The green-eyed man smiled politely, but it wasn’t clear if the message penetrated. The dimpled soldier nodded his head and mouthed the word, amen. But the third soldier, his head stayed bowed. Reegan knew it wasn’t in supplication. Though she could no longer see it, she knew he was still looking discreetly at his phone.
With the sermon delivered, the chords of the piano began. The choir rose. Reegan took her place out front to perform her solo.
She inhaled deeply, asking the butterflies gathered there to settle. She’d sang in this choir, in this very spot, more times than she could count. But something was different about today.
At first, every chorister’s voice rose in harmony, just as Pastor Vance had preached. But then accompanying voices died down, leaving Reegan’s voice on its own.
Reegan took a deep breath and opened her mouth. She belted out the lyrics only to be slightly off-key. There were a few frowns amongst the congregation. They knew what she was capable of and waited for her to shine.
Her gaze found the soldier still on his phone. She had the misfortune of catching his right eye wince at her blunder.
He lifted his head then. Dark eyes met hers, and she felt as though they penetrated past her heart and into her soul. From somewhere beyond, an angel started to sing. Her voice was lighter than a harp’s strings. It had more whimsy than a flute could muster.
The soldier’s gaze widened. That firm jaw loosened, and his mouth went slack. He sat up taller, his phone forgotten as the voice continued its joyful noise. His eyes were locked on Reegan as though he’d just seen a wondrous sight. And then Reegan realized; that joyful, angelic sound was coming from her.
Chapter Five
Brandon's stomach grumbled as
he sat on the uncomfortable wooden bench. People in the pews in front of him turned to look back at him. He shrugged apologetically. What could he say? Church had never agreed with him.
As a kid, he'd tugged at his shirt collar which always had too much starch. He’d scrunched up his toes in the pinching dress shoes which he was never allowed to play in and only wore a couple of times a month. He only ever had to go to church services with his grandma. Mostly on holidays or if his grandma had someone to impress on a given Sunday.
Brandon’s parents were happily holiday Christians who only ever went on Easter and Christmas. They called out to God a lot and not in a prayerful way. Typically, in elaborate, sailor-wincing curses, which Brandon had perfected during his time in the military.
But sitting still in a church? That was not his thing. He'd rather have to sit still in a foxhole.
However, this was his duty. And he'd do it. He owed it to Reece. And so he sat still ... for all of five minutes before pulling out his phone and looking for a distraction.
As always, his mind raced when he was forced to sit still. It went back to that village in Afghanistan. Back to the smoke swallowing Reece whole. Back to the explosion ringing in his ears. Back to the crushing guilt he felt for his moment’s hesitation.
What he wouldn’t give to take it back. To yank Reece back to him with certainty. Unfortunately, that was one thing in this life he was certain of, you couldn’t go back and correct your mistakes. You had to face them and move on.
All around him, the congregation murmured praises and amens. Brandon should relax in the comfort of their exaltations. Pretty soon, their gazes would turn on him in despair and disappointment when they learned the news that their favored son was gone.
Brandon knew that Reece Cartwright was a devoted Christian. He carried a worn Bible with him wherever they went and wore a gold cross around his neck alongside his dog tags. He could imagine the young man sitting in the pews listening to the sermon and making notations in his book.
Listening to the young pastor speak, Brandon decided he liked that the man spoke to the congregation and not at them like the gray-haired men that had always lorded over his grandmother’s church. However, the sermon wasn't one he felt pertained to him.
Brandon had no intentions of begetting or getting married. He still wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t going back into the military. He knew for certain he wasn’t cut out for this type of civilian life; one where he’d dress in slacks and narrow-toed shoes and sit on a hard bench for hours each week. And on a Sunday afternoon at that.
No, his life would be of more use in going back into the military. That was how he planned to be of service. That's where he would find his fellowship. That's where all of his relationships were forged. He wasn’t suited for a life of musical chords or whatever. He’d find harmony within the ranks, unity within a unit.
