THE NEW KID, A New Christmas Story, Part 5, w/links to the first 4 parts.
After turning in the rental car, and checking in at the airline desk, James Casey sat in a chair near his departure gate, and fell asleep. He didn't know how long it had been, but when he woke up, he felt more refreshed than he had in the previous seven years. The absence of the sterile prison smell, and sounds was welcome. He woke up just as passengers were lining up for boarding.
The three hour flight to Tulsa international airport was uneventful, and without any baggage to check, James was headed for the taxi stands straight from the gate when a middle aged man, in jeans and a denim coat, wearing horn rimmed glasses stepped up to him.
This is Glenn Shubeck, Church Deacon and professional nice guy. By day he is a mild mannered insurance salesman, and in his afterhours time, he is a volunteer superhero who mows lawns for widows and visits orphans who are both hospitalized and incarcerated. Not actually, but you get the idea. Glenn is the kind of guy that could make Mother Theresa wonder if she was doing enough to make the world a better place.
“Pastor Todd, wow I am so glad you're finally here.” he stuck out his hand to take the briefcase, “Glenn, Glenn Shubeck. You probably don't remember me, but we met when you were out for your interview.”
James pulled the briefcase back, this was not something he was expecting, and “I don't think I'm the one you're looking for. Sorry. Wrong guy.” he said, with a hint of menace in his voice.
“No, pretty sure I got the right guy, you're
Pastor Crawford, Todd Crawford, from
Georgia, right? I never forget a face, and just in case, I got this.” He held up an Android phone with a picture of himself and James, well, Todd, but it looked like James, which made James realize there he was going to have to deal with this man, one way or another.
As he handed the photo back to the man, he noticed a TSA agent, who, having overheard their conversation, had left his place in line at a pretzel vendor and was heading their way. James decided he had two choices if he didn't want to return to prison today; turn this into a hostage situation right now, or, he could take this guy up on his offer and get a ride out of the airport. This particular TSA agent seemed like he meant business, so James changed course accordingly.
“Oh, that Glenn Shubeck. So good to see you again!” he noticed a ring on Glenn's finger, “How's your wife?”
The TSA agent seemed embarrassed to be tracking this obviously friendly encounter and turned back in to line at the pretzel vendor, apparently satisfied that all was well.
Glenn smiled, “She's fine. Glad you asked, you'll be seeing her soon, she's your assistant, you remember?”
James smiled, “Right, tell me her first name again?”
“Oh, uh, Susan, here she is with our dog Zipper. “Glenn pulled out his phone and displayed his screen save picture, of a blond woman with an orange and white terrier. “I'm so glad you remembered me, because it seems like I am always goofing this kind of stuff. That's why my wife sent me that picture, so I wouldn't forget what you look like. So, let's go get your luggage.”
James barely heard the man, and was slow in responding, his mind was occupied in ways to break away and get back to his mission of visiting his son and her mother, “Luggage, right! Oh, wait, I just remembered, I didn't bring any!”
Glenn stopped momentarily, glancing at James as if to make sure he was serious, “You moved half way across the country and all you brought was that briefcase?”
“Well, new job, new clothes, am I right? I'm sure I can get something with my expense account, right?” James smiled warmly, hoping this would be the end of it.
“Expense account? Um, not sure if you got the memo, there's a salary and a house, but no benefits.” Glenn looked very serious.
James laughed it off, “Just kidding, buddy, just kidding, what kind of church would have an expense account for a junior pastor?”
“Associate pastor, you mean?”
“Sure, junior, assistant, associate, hey you, call me whatever you want, I am just happy to be here.” James talked quickly, trying to end this line of questioning before he gave himself away, “I thought buying some new clothes would be a great way to get to know some local businesses, you know? New kid needs friends, kind of thing?”
“Oh, that's a great idea, we have a Goodwill, and a Walmart, I am sure we can find something for you, or Tulsa is not that far away.” They reached Glenn's car and he unlocked the doors, sliding into the driver's seat, while James walked around and climbed in on the passenger's side.
Glenn's car was a big Buick from about three decades ago, but he kept the thing in mint condition and it rides like a dream. I rode in it once to a little league tournament with some other boys, and it was no wonder, with the soft seats, and Glenn's passion for classical music, which played softly through the speakers, that James was able to stay awake the entire drive to Rogers, which is about forty-five minutes.
“Well, I don't mind saying that we are real excited to finally have you here, this is a real big step for us. Pastor Roland won't be officially in his office until next week, so this week, the show's all yours! I am sure you are champing at the bit, am I right?” Glenn gushed.
“Sure am, remind me though, what is this “big step”? And what's your part in this whole thing?”
“Well, let's see, I guess start from the beginning, if that's all right?” Glenn looked at James for agreement.
“That sounds good.” James smiled, in what he hoped was a reassuring way.
“Ok, well, River Oaks Community Church started about sixty years ago, and...” Glenn sounded like he was getting warmed up to a long story.
James interrupted him gently, “Maybe just the
Reader's Digest condensed version?”
“Okay, well, when Pastor Jacobs passed away this summer, we knew we had some tough choices to make, so we offered the job to his associate, Pastor Joe.” Glenn said, focusing on his driving, as he turned on the windshield wipers to clear the glass from the light sleet and rain.
“So, where's Pastor Joe now?” James asked.
Glenn adjusted the defrost and continued his story, “Seems he was already thinking about taking another job, and decided it was a good time to make a clean break, so he moved to Tulsa to become a campus pastor for a larger congregation. So, now here we are with this whole fundraiser thing, and two new pastors coming on board, you have no idea how glad I am to see you.”
James sat up, paying a little more attention,
“Fundraiser?”
“Yeah, the Project Barabbas 20th anniversary, you remember? We thought about canceling, but with all those kids counting on us, that just didn't seem right. Don't worry about that though, the fundraising part is mostly done. All we have to do now is hold the pledge collection dinner, which is huge! But, I am sure with your background that is no big deal, right?”
“Huge, huh?” James said, “Just how big are we talking?”
“Man you really don't remember much, do you, must be the jetlag?” Glenn seemed concerned.
“Must be.” James answered.
Glenn smiled, “$76,000 in cash, plus change! Boy, I am sure glad to be handing this off to you, with that much cash, security is always a concern.”
Now, James Casey had only been a free man for a few hours, and no intentions of going back to his old ways, but a man can only be so thoroughly rehabilitated, and the mention of over $75,000 in cash was just too good to be true.
“So, handing it off to me, huh? What else does an associate pastor do?” James asked.
Now, I said before that small towns all have the same churches, and I think it's true. There is always one little white, wood sided chapel with a steeple, then there's the brick standard with a wide front porch, stained glass windows and a bell tower, and last but not least, at least one “modern” church building. If you grew up in the Midwest, you have probably been in at least one.
In Rogers, this was River Oaks Community Church. It was low, with a flat roof over most of it. The building was sided in a creamy yellow brick, with tall, thin windows reaching floor to ceiling, piercing its outside wall every twenty feet. At one end, near the road, was the sanctuary, with a peaked roof that swept up like the prow of a ship. In typical fashion, there was a large wooden cross hung at the corner in front of a modern stained glass window in golds and greens.
A small playground sat at the other end, surrounded by a low chain link fence. The blacktop of the parking lot had been recently recoated, and fresh yellow stripes glared against the gray of the overcast day.
“We're here!” Glenn said, pulling in and parking.
“Oh, well, so we are. Glenn, could I ask you a favor? Could you just take me home, I'm a little tired after everything.” James said, hoping he sounded tired and not peeved.
“You are home.” Glenn replied
James looked around, “Unless I'm sleeping in the church, I mean my actual house.”
Glenn gave James a strange look, “Right there.” he pointed to a small ranch style house on one side of the parking lot. “The preacher's house,
remember?”
“Oh, yeah, just testing you. Seminary 101, keep them thinking, always keep them thinking.”
“Really?” Glenn smiled and stepped out, holding out a keyring to James.
If I know James, he was not ready for what it meant to be a pastor, not by a long shot. He was envisioning a quiet night of scheming, followed by getting as far away from this town as possible in short order. The River Oaks “preacher's house” was a typical parsonage, plain, but neat and livable. It would have blended into an older neighborhood in almost any Oklahoma town. Red brick ran from the ground up to the windows, with white siding above that and black shutters hung neatly by each window.
Inside, a feeble attempt at modernizing had provided laminate flooring in the kitchen and bath, while a plain tan carpet ran through the rest of the white walled house.
James knew exactly what he wanted first, and an hour later he climbed out of the longest hot shower he had experienced in over seven years. Now, in church circles, it is commonly known that many pastors prefer to pay for their own homes, rather than give up the privacy that living in a parsonage includes.
James didn't know this. He had spent very little time in church behind bars, and even less before he went to jail. While he rightfully expected to be alone inside his own home, the truth was not always what one expected.
Let's just say it's a good thing that he didn't walk nude down the hall to the bedroom, as he had originally intended, but thought better of, since the church was just a few feet away. The towel he wrapped around himself was all that stood between him and his first church scandal when he walked down the hall and straight into his first ever surprise welcoming party.
Gosh, I was surprised to see you refer to the Readers Digest. In South Africa, I find them in charity shops and usually buy them for $0.20 each - I say usually, because some give them to me for free. I think I have over 50 of them. None of the next generation want to read them. As they say, their loss is my gain.
Sorry, cannot linger, in a hurry to go to part six...