Jimmy (17 page)

“I want to go up front,” he repeated.

Mama put her hand on his arm and leaned over to Daddy. Jimmy couldn't hear what she said, but she turned back to him and spoke in a quiet but firm voice.

“Jimmy, it's not necessary. You're just worked up over your grandpa.”

Jimmy tried to settle back into the pew. The choir finished the third verse of the closing hymn. So far, no one had come forward. Brother Fitzgerald usually stopped the music to give another plea before the start of the fourth verse. If no one responded, the service ended. The choir grew silent. Brother Fitzgerald spoke.

“I have a sense in my heart there are least two people who need to respond to the message this morning. If you feel that tug of God in your heart, please don't resist his great love. There will never be a better opportunity for you to come to Jesus than this moment.”

Jimmy's anxiety increased. The choir started to sing the fourth verse. He couldn't stand the thought of staying in his seat. Without saying anything to Mama, he slipped from the pew and moved so fast that Daddy's hand fell off his shoulder before he could slow Jimmy down. Once he'd set his feet in motion, the distress Jimmy felt while sitting in the pew lifted, and upon reaching the aisle, he walked quickly toward the front of the sanctuary. A thirteen-year-old boy responding to the invitation at the conclusion of a service wasn't an unusual event. But Jimmy Mitchell wasn't a usual boy. Whispers on each side accompanied his journey. Brother Fitzgerald saw him coming and moved from behind the pulpit to the floor of the sanctuary. He held out a beefy hand with a welcoming smile on his face. They shook hands. Brother Fitzgerald didn't let go.

“What do you want Jesus to do for you?” the preacher asked, leaning close to Jimmy's face.

Jimmy looked at Brother Fitzgerald, saw the choir behind him, and suddenly realized that he'd left the security of the family pew. He started to turn around and flee to safety. Only the preacher's grip on his right hand prevented him.

“Do you want to get saved?” Brother Fitzgerald asked.

Jimmy managed a weak nod. The preacher flipped the switch for the wireless microphone clipped to his tie.

“People of God!” the minister boomed. “Jimmy Mitchell wants to give his heart to Jesus this morning. Pray for us, while I pray with him.”

Brother Fitzgerald got on his knees and pulled Jimmy down with him.

“Repeat after me,” the preacher said.

Brother Fitzgerald prayed three or four words at a time. Jimmy repeated the words. It was a standard prayer, probably used by the preacher on hundreds of occasions, but on this day, for Jimmy Mitchell, it wasn't rote; it was real. As he repeated the words of the prayer, something changed.

“In the name of Jesus, amen,” he repeated.

Brother Fitzgerald pulled Jimmy to his feet and turned him around to face the sanctuary.

“Everybody welcome our new little brother in Christ.”

There was polite applause. A smile on his face, Jimmy peered through his glasses in the direction of his family. Mama held a tissue to her eyes. Daddy was looking around the sanctuary. Grandpa sat with his arms crossed.

The preacher bustled down the aisle, leaving Jimmy alone for a second before a congratulatory
crowd of people descended upon him. Jimmy felt overwhelmed and did not know what to say. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned. It was Mama, with Daddy close behind her. They'd worked their way down the aisle to reach him. Mama leaned over and hugged him.

“I'm proud of you,” she said. “I didn't realize the Lord was really calling you.”

Mama and Daddy took over management of the crowd. All Jimmy had to do was smile and shake hands with the men and allow the women to give him a hug. Several lipstick-laden kisses smudged his forehead and both cheeks. The informal reception lasted only a few minutes, but it seemed much longer to Jimmy. When the crowd thinned, he turned to Mama.

“Where are Grandpa and Grandma?”

“They had to leave. Grandpa wasn't feeling well.”

“He should have come down with me. I didn't feel well either, but I'm a lot better now.”

Mama nodded. “Yes. You led the way. All he had to do was humble himself like a little child and follow. He missed a great opportunity.”

—
Twelve
—

J
immy and his family ate lunch at the Springdale Restaurant. The restaurant featured a Sunday buffet that united all God's children. Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, and Pentecostals might not be able to gather in the same sanctuary, but they had no problem fellowshipping around roast beef, pan-fried okra, and creamed corn.

Mama always helped Jimmy select the food for his plate. Otherwise, he had a tendency to load up with meat and potatoes, leaving little room for anything green, yellow, or orange. He reached the end of the line with a plate heaped high with roast beef, mashed potatoes, carrots, green beans, and a cornbread muffin perched on top of the pile. Daddy waited for them at a table toward the rear of the restaurant. He clicked off his cell phone as they joined him.

“He's having chest pains, and he went to lie down as soon as he took off his shoes,” he said to Mama.

“Should he go to the hospital?”

“He claims it's not any worse than usual, but I don't trust his self-diagnosis. I'm going over to see him after we eat.”

Jimmy knew they were talking about Grandpa.

“I could listen to his heart,” he volunteered.

“That always makes him feel better,” Mama replied, “but he needs to see a doctor to make sure he's okay.”

In public places, Daddy prayed a very short blessing over the meal. After he finished, Jimmy cut off a juicy piece of meat and chased it with a bite of mashed potatoes. It was one of his favorite flavor combinations.

“Jimmy,” Daddy said, “tell me in your own words what happened to you today. Don't try to sound like a preacher.”

“Are you going to cross-examine him?” Mama asked. “I told you at the church we shouldn't try to challenge what the Holy Spirit—”

“No,” Daddy interrupted. “I'm willing to listen. Go ahead.”

“Can I eat another bite of food?” Jimmy asked. “Getting saved made me real hungry.”

Daddy smiled. “Okay, but don't forget your carrots and green beans.”

They waited in silence until Jimmy swallowed his bite. “Something inside made me want to go up front,” he said.

“Did you see anything?” Daddy asked.

“Yes, sir. Everyone in the choir was staring at me, and I wanted to go back to my seat, but Brother Fitzgerald held on to my hand. Then he prayed, and I repeated the words.”

Daddy lowered his voice. “Did you see a Watcher in the sanctuary?”

“No, sir. Did you?”

“No. I've never seen one.”

“Neither have I,” Mama added. “But I believe they're real.”

“Even if that's true,” Daddy said, “I don't understand why he would claim divine revelation to take my father to church. It seems like the wrong person went forward. You've claimed for years that Jimmy was already saved, and I agreed with you. He's always been a good boy who prays and tries to be good most of the time.”

Mama shook her head. “It's not about being good enough. We don't know everything in his heart. You saw me. I tried to hold him back, but when I saw him walk down the aisle, something inside me jumped for joy.” She turned toward Jimmy. “Did you mean it with all your heart when you prayed with Brother Fitzgerald?”

“Yes, ma'am. And the bad feelings went away. I felt happy and then hungry.”

“Maybe it's another step in growing up,” Mama said. “A child starts out relying on his parents' faith but at some point has to believe because it's his or her choice to do so. I wasn't sure that would ever happen with Jimmy, but it has, and we should be glad about it.”

“Oh, I'm glad,” Daddy answered. “I guess there's just a part of this I won't be able to understand.”

As they neared the end of their meal, Brother Fitzgerald came over to their table. The preacher had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt.

“May I join you for a minute?” he asked Daddy. “I was going to call you later but wondered if we could talk now.”

“Sure,” Daddy replied.

The preacher sat in the extra chair and placed his large hands on the edge of the table.

“I'm so proud of Jimmy stepping out and coming down front to receive Jesus into his life. It will be a memory I carry with me for a long time.”

“Thank you,” Mama said. “And we appreciate the sensitive way you treated him.”

“He's a fine boy,” Brother Fitzgerald said, patting Jimmy on the shoulder. “God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform. I've led lots of people to the Lord, but you're one of the most special.”

Jimmy winced.

Brother Fitzgerald continued. “I'll have to double-check the church calendar, but I think we're going to have a baptismal service on Sunday night in two weeks. I realize it's close to Christmas, but it's a great time of year to follow the Lord under the water. If your family is going to be in town, I'd like to put Jimmy on the list. He'll be in a group with the Cole family. They were Methodists before moving to Piney Grove, and all six of them are going to be baptized. I'm also talking to a young man who works as an industrial engineer at Southwire. He wants to be baptized and join the church. All in all, it will be a nice assembly. The sooner, the better, is my theology of baptism. Philip baptized the Ethiopian at the first sign of water.” Brother Fitzgerald winked at Jimmy. “And no matter how cold it is outside, our baptismal pool is a pleasant eighty degrees.”

“That should work fine,” Daddy replied. “We don't have any plans to be out of town until after the holidays.”

“Good.” Brother Fitzgerald pushed away from the table and stood to his feet. He smiled down at Jimmy. “God bless you, son. Your baptism will be one of the greatest days of your life.”

Jimmy didn't respond. He'd seen many baptisms. Watching and participating were two entirely different matters.

“Do either of you want dessert?” Daddy asked. “I think there's a piece of coconut pie with my name on it.”

“Lee,” Mama replied in a low but intense voice. “What were you thinking? Do you really believe Jimmy is going to let Brother Fitzgerald baptize him?”

“Uh, it shouldn't be a problem. The baptismal pool isn't any bigger than a bathtub.”

“When was the last time Jimmy took a bath?”

Daddy didn't answer but looked at Jimmy. “Tell your mama that you're not afraid to be baptized.”

Jimmy kept his eyes down and spoke in the direction of his plate. “I don't want to do it.”

“The water is less than four and a half feet deep,” Daddy answered, trying to keep his voice calm. “There will be children in the Cole family younger and smaller than you getting baptized. It will all be over in a few seconds. The preacher is holding you steady the entire time. Brother Fitzgerald is strong enough not to let anything bad happen to you.”

Jimmy couldn't close his ears, but he could shut his eyes. He hid in the self-imposed dark.

“Don't try to argue with him,” Mama said. “Leave him alone.”

“You should have kept quiet,” Daddy retorted. “You put fear in his head.”

There was silence at the table for a moment. Jimmy opened his eyes, but the image of the water closing over his head seeped into his mind.

“No,” Mama said in a steely voice. “I think there is someone else to blame for that.”

Daddy didn't eat any coconut pie.

T
HE SUBJECT OF BAPTISM DIDN'T COME UP DURING THE SILENT
drive home. Daddy dropped off Jimmy and Mama then continued to Grandpa and Grandma's house. Jimmy walked up the steps beside Mama. Inside, Mama stopped him before he could run upstairs to change clothes and gave him a heartfelt hug.

“Don't let anything ruin this day,” she said. “The angels in heaven are rejoicing over what you did at the church.”

“What would that look like?”

Mama smiled. “You probably know more about that than I do. Someday we'll both find out. Now go upstairs and change clothes. Be sure to hang up your pants and jacket in the closet.”

J
IMMY PUT ON A FLANNEL SHIRT AND BLUE JEANS SUITED TO
the cool December afternoon. Before going outside to play with Buster, he lay on the bed and looked out the window that gave him a broad view of the front yard. It was a familiar sight viewed from a safe place, and he often liked to lie on the bed and stare out the window. Today no one passed by on the sidewalk. No breeze blew. The scene was as still as a painted landscape.

But today his world looked different.

Jimmy took off his glasses, rubbed them with the corner of his soft shirt, and returned them to their place. The sense that he was seeing things in a new way didn't go away. Puzzled, he remained on the bed, unable to understand a reason for the difference. The green grass, the texture of the bark on the trees, the rich brown of the fallen leaves. Everything seemed more alive. Then a message came into the stillness of his heart.

“Behold, I make all things new.”

To Jimmy, the words sounded like something from the Holy Bible, but he had no idea where the verse might be found. He glanced over his shoulder, half expecting to see a Watcher standing in the doorway. But he was alone. He repeated the words.

“Behold, I make all things new.”

Jimmy propped his elbows on the bed and thought about the meaning of the sentence. He didn't know what “behold” meant, and that made the rest of the message fuzzy. Over and over, he repeated the words. As he did, a sense of understanding came.

First, he knew the words were linked to the events of the morning as a personal message from God. Second, he felt excitement and fear: excitement that God was doing something and fear that it would be new and therefore unfamiliar.