Reverend America: A Journey of Redemption by Kris Saknussemm Read Free Book Online Page A

with Poppy and Rose.
    From the moment he entered their lives, the focus was on the Bible, and together they studied it with religious intent—just not Christian intent. There was a new fervor of religious sentiment in small town America, at least in the South, and Poppy and Rose wanted to capitalize on it. He was given the stage name of Mathias True. Poppy became the Reverend True and Rose, Sister Rosalie. Initially they were just a Christian novelty act, performing at churches and Odd Fellows Halls, and whatever gospel festivals they could get into. But they had bigger plans. Mathias True would be the rock they’d found their church on.
    Again and again they quizzed him on key Biblical passages. He had to know the Ten Commandments, the Twelve Tribes of Israel and the Twelve Apostles without thinking. He had to be able to recite the books of the Bible in order and to have all the Parables close to hand. Over franks and beans, they crammed on Christian doctrine—the Trinity and the Hypostatic Union, Salvation by Grace, the Resurrection and the Gospel. Sometimes with his mouth full he’d be forced to repeat, “Jesus is God in flesh, who died for our sins, rose from the dead, and freely gives the gift of eternal life to those who believe.” Burp. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”
    The Virgin Birth proved awkward (as it has for many), because if babies came from God—what was so special about Mary? And what was all the begetting about? Poppy responded with a rather complex “rattling off” of all sorts of animal associations: bulls and cows, roosters and hens—supporting his absurd lecture with gestures and hand signs that made the young Mathias wonder if the man wasn’t having a spell. When at last the words “penis” and “womb” were trotted out under the duress of further bafflement (of course no vaginas), the matter only became foggier. Because the boy had been exposed to Poppy’s wizardry with cards and gaming tricks, it prompted the question, “So, it’s like slipping the pea under another shell?”
    In all the years he’d spend with them, this would be the single time he recalled hearing Rose really laugh. It began as a girlish sniggle, with an attempt to gulp it back down—and then returned in force, erupting into a full-bellied horselaugh that brought tears to her eyes.
    Then—just as suddenly—her mood shifted when he asked, “Why don’t you have children?”
    He’d actually asked this question before but not in such a cornering way. His cauterized upbringing, and the way they’d plucked him from charity wardship had always allowed answers along the lines of children being things you picked up on market day.
    They were parked alongside the Missouri River, running high—but the atmosphere in their old bus went as desolate as the sand hills of Nebraska.
    “We tried and tried,” Rose answered, while Poppy fumbled with the Bible. “I’m barren. We’ve read about that.”
    It was, he’d come to realize, one of the simplest and truest things they ever told him. He saw that they desperately wanted children and a normal life, but they didn’t know how to find it—and like the fortune they were always chasing, they probably wouldn’t have known what to do with it if they did. They never once said, “We’ve got you now.”
    Essentially, they’d taken him in because of his distinctive complexion and his early religious training. 
What manner of child shall this be?
 How they’d found him, they never said, but they’d been hunting for a while. They wanted an unusual looking boy—someone just peculiar enough to capture attention but not so odd as to put people off—and a child that could pass for their own late-in-life Godsend. He needed to be clever, capable of taking instructions—and he needed to be hungry and alone, so they could mold him.
    He met every requirement. He was unusual looking—and they had him grow his hair long to accentuate his albino appearance. He