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Joseph gave a lithe leap up onto the dais and stepped behind the pulpit with as much ease as someone who spoke publicly every day of the week. Gil couldn’t help but be surprised. And impressed.
“Folks, I made a delivery to McPherson yesterday, and while I was there, I found out about a unique opportunity for our boys’ band. At the End of Harvest celebration, some representatives sent by Governor Hoch himself will judge boys’ bands and choose first-, second-, and third-place winners.” He went on to tell about a single band being selected to travel to Topeka and play for the governor at the state capitol building.
As he spoke, murmurs rumbled from various areas of the sanctuary. But what did the murmurs mean? Gil glanced across the gathered parishioners, trying to read their interest. Or lack of interest. Mennonites generally weren’t competitive. Some chose not to involve themselves with governmental affairs at all and probably weren’t even aware of the new governor’s name. If they resisted having their boys play in a competition, the decision would be taken from his hands. He couldn’t decide if he preferred having it eliminated or thrust on him.
“As you know, our boys’ band is newly formed. But they have great leadership. Gil Baty is a tal—nä, I won’t say talented. I will say he is a composer and conductor who is musically gifted. And every good and perfect gift comes from God.”
A few people turned and peeked at Gil, and his face grew so hot he feared his hair would catch fire. As much as it pleased him to hear his cousin speak such affirmation, he wished Joseph had chosen to talk to him first about making the announcement. He didn’t know what to do or where to look. Sohe stared at Joseph and tried to pretend his cousin was talking about someone else.
“The men who play in the men’s band and any boys who are in the boys’ band will tell you I’m speaking the truth.”
More murmurs holding notes of approval.
Joseph went on. “If anyone can get the boys ready for such an opportunity, it’s Gil. But there are conflicts.” His expression serious, he listed everything Gil was doing, from delivering the mail to leading the bands to caring for Roald’s pets and seeing to Roald’s many needs.
Gil’s head spun. He couldn’t possibly get these boys ready for a competition. If he took them there, they’d fail. He’d already failed in New York. How would he hold his head up at all if the people from his church also saw him as a failure? He should stand up right now and tell everyone it was a foolish idea.
Joseph gripped the podium and leaned forward slightly, the way Reverend Ediger did when he was making an important point. “I’m asking you to pray for Gil. If the band is going to compete, he needs to register by June 16, and he needs to have the boys ready to play by August 19.” He chuckled, raising his shoulders in a shrug. “That isn’t a lot of time by the calendar, but I think it might be enough for someone like Gil Baty to make it happen, if he has prayer support and maybe some help with his other duties. Thank you.”
Joseph left the dais and returned to his seat. He slid in next to Gil and gave him a wink as he sat. Gil’s lips quirked into a tight smile he wasn’t sure was meant to be a thank-you or a threat to get him later.
“Thank you for telling us about this opportunity, Joseph,” Reverend Ediger said as he returned to his place behind the podium. “This is a big decision with potential consequencesnot only for Gil but for our boys. How would a win—or even a loss—affect them?”
The question rattled Gil. He liked the boys from the band. They were good boys, dedicated and respectful. They enjoyed playing their instruments. Would a win change them from humble to prideful? Would losing make them never want to play their horns again? There was so much to ponder and so little time to do it.
“Perhaps the parents of boys in the band would like to meet with Gil at the back of the church,” the reverend went on, “and pray with him. Pray over him. It could be that God brought Gil back to Falke this summer for such a time as this.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ava
On the drive back totown, Ava and Gil remained silent on opposite ends of the carriage’s front seat. Timmy had gone home with his aunt, and now she missed his bright chatter. Although the late evening offered its usual song of wind, birds, and insects and—from a distance—the mournful howl of a coyote, the absence of voices after hearing so many of them lifted together in song and prayer left her melancholy.
What was Gil thinking about as he sat quiet and still beside her? The heartfelt prayers that had been offered on his behalf, perhaps? They continued to roll in her mind. What a joy and blessing to witness people encouraging this hometown boy who’d left to make his mark on the music world. Joseph’s glowing report of Gil’s abilities had surprised and pleased her, too. Maybe he was finally growing up, sloughing off his old resentment toward Gil. She hoped so.
The entire time Joseph sang Gil’s praises from the podium of the church, she’d kept her gaze forward, steadfastly refusing to look at Gil. But with the familiar words from the story of Esther,for such a time as this,reverberating in her heart, she’d angled her face and looked at him. And found him looking at her. She’d immediately turned her focus forward again, but hisexpression—filled with both wonder and uncertainty—etched itself into her memory and played even now in her mind’s eye.
God had a purpose in everything. Papa, Mama, the preacher…they’d all told her so at different times in her life. She wanted to believe it, because believing it would take the heartbreak away from so many things that confused her. If it was true, then God must have a purpose in bringing Gil back to Falke.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she remembered so many people, including Gil’s uncle, leaving their seats and surrounding Gil. Joseph and Earl left and went to their mother. Ava should have gone elsewhere, too. She didn’t have a boy in the band, and she didn’t belong there with those who did, but her legs refused to move. Despite her desire to remain emotionally distant from Gil, she’d wanted to be part of the group who prayed for him. Part of the ones who, as Reverend Ediger said, prayedoverhim.
So she’d prayed. Silently, from her spot a few feet away from Gil. And oh, it had felt so good to truly speak to God. Her heart fluttered. Maybe that pull to stay and pray wasfor such a time as this.
They reached the edge of town. Gil suddenly patted his trouser pocket, sat forward, then pointed ahead. “Please let me off at the bank building, Ava.”
Such an odd request. “What do you want there?”
“Some quiet.” He angled his head and gave her a weary half smile. “I don’t know why I put the key in my pocket this morning. Habit, I suppose. But having it now will allow me to go into the band room while no one else is around. It’s a good place for me to pray about what I should do, jo?” He sighed. “I might be there awhile…”
Ava nodded slowly. She slapped the reins, guiding Pansy toturn north. “Won’t Mr. Willems worry if you don’t return as expected?”
He grimaced. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
Without hesitating, she said, “I’ll stop at his place and tell him where you are.”
“Thank you, Ava.”
She nodded. At the bank, she pulled Pansy’s reins and set the brake, then she turned to Gil. “I hope you’ll find the answer you’re seeking.”
