Have A Little Faith In Me by Brad Vance Read Free Book Online

suddenly expressed so much sadness, and pity.  As if he’d seen something bad happening to Norman, something unspeakably awful. 
    It was the same look that old Gladys Maples had given him and a group of other boys who’d been caught throwing rocks at her cats.  Norman hadn’t thrown any, but he’d been afraid to tell the others not to do it.  She had looked at him that same way, with a disappointment that made him want to cry.
    Norman never forgot that day, that moment, the man’s face.  The seed was planted in him, then, the idea that others weren’t like his family, his church, his friends, his neighbors.  That they saw something terribly frightening when they looked at Norman and his people.
    Years later, coming into his own sexuality, he would remember that look, from one of his own kind.  He would never forget it, the terrible certainty on the man’s face that all this, this hate, this insensibly stupid hate, would last forever, passed on from generation to generation to generation…

CHAPTER 7 – TOUCH YOUR SPIRIT
     
    When Norman was eight years old, the salvation he had prayed for came at last. 
    On September 22, 1996, the Family Victory Church opened its enormous doors to the people of Georgia.  Reverend Norman McCoy had ridden the wave of “pro-family” sentiment in the country to a position of national prominence.  That the Defense of Marriage Act was signed into law one day before the first service in his new church surely showed the whole world that God’s will was still at work in the United States of America. 
    The church was larger than most theaters, seating thousands of the faithful.  “Our God is an Awesome God,” the band on the stage announced as the parishioners filed in.  It was hard to argue with that, when He had brought this arena into being, an arena in which the Christians and not the lions were triumphant.
    The Reverend was no fool.  He knew that young people found traditional churches as appealing as broccoli.  He had hired a marketing consultant away from his job with the Christian Coalition, and the consultant had told him that if he wanted to “grow the brand,” showmanship was the way to go.  “You can’t build a church the size of a Broadway theater and not put on a show,” was the take-away message.
    In Reverend McCoy’s old church, there had been singing, but…not this.  Not a full band with guitar, drums, keyboard!  Norman had never heard a live band in his young life, and he was drawn to the stage like a moth to the flame. 
    Norman stood there, entranced, as the band played a cover of George Michael’s “Faith.”  The lyrics had been radically revised, of course.
    Well, I guess it would be nice if I could touch your spirit,
    I know not everybody has got a spirit like you
    The people in the hall, including Norman’s grandmother, were clapping in time with the song.  Until they heard it, felt it, they didn’t know that this was what had been missing in the old church – a beat. 
    Music in the McCoy house had been nonexistent.  The radio played the “devil’s music,” and never mind the television, which was kept in a locked cabinet so Norman couldn’t be exposed to its unwholesome messages. 
    The band on the stage was like the Monolith in 2001 , the thing that made a great mental leap possible for him.  All those things that composed popular culture were forbidden, but this…  If it was allowed here, it was allowed to him.  He stared at the lead singer’s guitar as if he could will it into his possession.
    That night at dinner, after they’d said grace, he asked.
    “Father, may I please learn to play the guitar?”
    Reverend McCoy’s fork paused on his way to his mouth.  He looked at his son.  Then he looked at his mother, forming the third at their table since his wife had passed away.  He searched her face to see if there had been any conspiring on this.  After all, Faith McCoy had once been Satan’s slave, playing guitar