GIARJIAD
Chapter 1: Father’s Day
Dan Thomson realized that if he used his new tie to hang himself, he wouldn't have to go to church today. While not the suicidal type, his Father's Day present was causing him a degree of discomfort. His youngest son had picked it out because it matched the colors of a character from his favorite movie. With its white and orange stripes separated by thin black lines, he had to admit that it did look like a clown fish. The silk was high quality and the textures of the bars varied with the color, so it was by no means the typical Father's Day misfortune. Yet Dan could not suppress his anxiety looking at the foreign color combination splitting his torso. He had been raised to believe that men only wore blue ties, with two exceptions--black at funerals and red at election time. With an exhale of resignation, Dan walked downstairs through the empty house. This was the one Sunday a year his wife took the kids and he did not have to arrive until the main service.
He noticed his brown leather shoes needed a shine, but he would have to wear them because they were the only pair he had to go with the brown suit that matched his tie. Stepping out in the Colorado sun, he could see the church across town. Built out of industrial sheet metal disguised by a coating of spray on plaster, it was the most cost effective way to house a congregation that numbered in the thousands and had to offer three services a week to accommodate all of its members. Dan liked to call it The Hangar, but he was afraid to share this nickname with anyone in case it sounded disrespectful. He got in his white Buick Century and made the slow drive through town, wondering at the stillness of the streets so close to midday. It was as if all the faithful had been called up to Heaven while he was in the shower. The Hangar was surrounded by a parking lot that was filled in all directions like one sees on TV at stadiums. Volunteers in orange safety vests directed vehicles to spots on the outer limit of the circle, but they waved Dan through toward the main entry, one of the few privileges of being Assistant Pastor. It was a job that did not pay well, but between the free rent and leased car, it was easier to provide for a family of five than one would assume looking at his meager tax return.
Acknowledging the families walking toward the entrance, Dan slowly proceeded to the last empty spot next to a new white Cadillac. He didn't have to look at the metal road sign that read Pastor H. Whitney. He didn't have to look at the sign that read Pastor D. Thomson either, but he did today. It provided an irksome reminder of his recent difficulty to register a domain name for the website he had been planning. PastorDan.com, PastorDanThomson.com, PastorDThomson.com, even PastorDanJohnThomson.com had been taken. He should have guessed after reading the survey results that revealed that Daniel Thomson was the most common name shared by ministers in the country. Of course, PastorDanielThomson.com was the first to go and the only one that remained was PastorDannyThomson.com. Now he was forced to choose between a website name no one would ever find like PastorDanielThomson.us or use a name that he had grown to despise. When he had first moved to Little Rocky Springs fresh out of Bible College, he had encouraged the Youth Group to call him Pastor Danny, artfully using their proximity in age to manage his charges at weekly meetings and annual conventions. As his reddish brown hair fell out and his girth grew, he was forced to act more like an authority figure to keep them in line, but the Pastor Danny nickname had stuck. He suspected the kids now used it with a condescending tone, but it was never obvious enough that he could call any of them on it. If he was ever going to be taken seriously enough to succeed Pastor Hank, Danny would have to go.
Even though Dan was sitting in the pews with his family today, he didn't want to enter through the front doors and chat with members before the service. He used his key to open the metal door that led directly to the hallway where the two offices were located. He passed by his darkened workspace to see the fluorescent light on the floor in front of Pastor Hank's open door. He wanted to walk by without looking in, but suspected that it was open for a reason. Dan's large body filled the door frame as he looked in to see Pastor Hank sitting at his wooden desk, contemplating the green ink blotter. He looked up when Dan shifted his feet.
"Daniel! Good to see you this morning." He half stood, gesturing at the chair in front of the desk. He winced and sat down gingerly, the fine creases on his forehead smoothing out again. Dan had always appreciated Hank for calling him Daniel or Brother Daniel despite the fact he was Danny to everyone else. Hank had a full head of grey hair streaked with black that was always held perfectly in place by undetectable hairspray. His wife had taken a stylist's course to make pocket money working at home, and she was responsible for doing her Henry's hair every morning. Despite the sweeping part's unworldly ability to remain in place, it never had that "helmet head" look so common amongst politicians and television preachers. Pastor Hank had the charisma and the look for a successful TV ministry, but he had declined every invitation from producers. It was this unique blend of ability and humility that had made Pastor Hank so well loved by the community and deeply respected by Dan, even as it reminded the latter of his own shortcomings.
"Sharp tie, Daniel. Brings out the red in your moustache."
"Thank you, Pastor. Joshua picked it out."
"How's the Youth Ministry going?"
"Well, the teenagers are up to their usual antics, but most of them are trying to live a Christian life."
"Have you done a background check on that rock band they requested?"
"BC/AD?"
"That's the one. Why not AD/BC though?"
"Apparently it was already taken."
"Sounds like they probably have a song with a cute name like Highway to Heaven." Looking at Hank's avuncular appearance, it was easy to forget that in the seventies he had written a book exposing the Satanic messages in rock bands of the time.
"Actually, they do. No Stairway to Hell though."
"We can be thankful for that at least. Did their lyrics check out?"
"There is a consistent evangelical message in all of their songs. The worst rumor I could find on the forums was that the lead singer still smokes."
"I guess we'll have to bring them in for the summer concert then. It's bound to be better than that 'urban' group they asked for last year."
"The Lordz Boyz?"
"Is that what they were called?" Hank reclined in his chair. "Listen, Daniel, I'm sorry to do this to you at the last minute, but my hernia has been acting up all morning. Would you mind leading the service? I'll rest this sucker and take the evening off your hands."
"Certainly, Pastor." Dan hoped he hadn't sounded to eager. "Would you like me to share your message or the one I had prepared for tonight?"
"Seeing as it's Father's Day, you can stick with the one we got from the Alliance Network. I left it on the pulpit."
"Thank you Pastor." Dan stood up.
"Daniel. Father's Day is one of the biggies. Don't hide your light."
"Yes, sir."
Dan walked to the main doors feeling a surge of confidence. This was his first important service in fourteen years. After Easter, Christmas, and Mother's Day, there was probably no better attended Sunday morning. Was Pastor Hank really so hurt or was he assessing Dan's readiness to accept greater responsibility? He said a quick prayer in his head to dispel the niggling doubts. His firmer handshake was noted by a number of people he greeted as they filed in, including men lured by the twin desire to demonstrate responsibility and partake in the Father's Day Brunch hosted by the Ladies' Group. Burly goateed men wearing silk screened shirts with prints from Japanese comic books mixed with men in two piece suits from The Father's Fathers group. They were all God's children, and all were welcome at the Church of the Lion and the Lamb.
The musicians filling the front row began to play entry music, signaling to Dan that he had five minutes until the start of the service. They played a variety of acoustic and electric instruments while a teenager maintained the beat on a small drum kit set up in the corner. A frail man with a weatherbeaten face named Garth improvised on his pedal steel, seemingly oblivious to his peers, yet tastefully filling out the songs regardless of what was being played. A recovered alcoholic, Garth had a special place in Dan's heart because he had helped save the one time bar band musician.
Dan strode up the center aisle, carrying his black leather Bible in his left hand, the gold leaf reflecting the beam of the stage lights hanging from the exposed steel girders on the high gray ceiling. He sat down in the second chair, his profile to the congregation, admiring the flowers that had been placed around the altar. He turned his head slightly to see his wife and three children sitting in the row behind the musicians. Like Dan, Jessica had always had a bit of extra softness on her body. Most of the Pastor's wives he had met had body types like Jess's, and the rest were tall and bony--not one former beauty queen among them, unless a county fair's Miss Dairy counted. Even Hank's wife tended toward the heavy side, but she exercised enough to look trim next to Jess. Dan's only real sin in life had been sleeping with her before marriage in Bible College. That first year unleashed enough pent up lust to keep the heat in the dormitories switched off at night. It seemed like most of the girls got pregnant that year, with a high percentage marrying the fathers over the summer like Jess had. The ones who didn't never returned to finish the program. The fruits of that bonding now sat sullenly between his eight year old sister and brother of six. The two youngest smiled proudly and waved at him. Dan nodded back, realizing that the music had stopped and it was time to take his place in the middle of the dais.
Stepping up to the podium, he could see that nearly all of the thousand chairs were filled. There was only one level, so big screens projected the service to help people see at the back. Dan took a deep breath and began, "Good morning brothers and sisters in Christ."
"Good morning," they responded in unison.
"Isn't it a lovely day?" Amens rippled through the crowd. "A time for families to gather as one? Amen!"
"AMEN."
Dan decided to stop improvising there. He read from the prepared text on the podium, "Our Father, who art in heaven, is the father of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Just as our heavenly Father is the central figure of our lives, our earthly fathers are the central figures in our families. Did not Paul say. . ." Dan stopped. He thought he had a read the last sentence aloud but he could not hear his own voice. He tried the whole sentence again. His lips moved and his throat vibrated, but again he heard no sound. The surprised looks on the faces in the front rows indicated that this deafness had afflicted them as well. It was not a complete silence though. Dan felt a faint ringing in his ears like that which happens after hearing an explosion at close range. Only there had been no noise. The Church began to brighten and a thousand pairs of eye looked up to see if someone had turned on all of the lights. What they saw was a ceiling glowing in translucent light, the girders and fixtures rendered invisible by the glare.