Spirit Pouch by Stanford Vaterlaus Read Free Book Online

assignments.  And pray,” I add.  I am sure that will help.
    “Pray?” He almost yells.  “I can’t do that!”
    “Sure you can.  Practice at home a little.  You want Sarah to like you?  Ask God to help you become a person she will like.  Then be willing to make the changes God would have you make.”
    “Well, thanks for the formula, Jet.  It sounds like Sarah will be a tough one to impress.”
    “Hey, that’s not all!” I say quickly.  “Mom says you have to treat a girl like a queen and you’ve got to compliment her on things.  Her hair.  Her dress.  Stuff like that."
    Ty snorts a half laugh.
    “I’m serious,” I say shaking my head.  “Besides, I’ve done that, and girls like it.”
    “What else does your mom say?”
    “Well, you need to find out what she likes and what her interests are.  Then find ways to talk about them.  Oh, and you’re supposed to treat all her friends really nice, too, because it makes her jealous if the other young women start liking you.”
    This girl stuff is pretty complicated,” Ty says as if I have just dumped a whole semester of homework assignments on his lap and told him that they are due next week.  “The Sioux Indians had it easy!”
    “Indians?”
    “Yeah.  I read some stuff on the Sioux after you showed me that spirit pouch.  If they wanted a wife, they just kidnapped a White Woman and rode off with her.  Or if you were a really brave warrior, the chief would give you his daughter!”
    “Well, that’s not going to happen in neither my lifetime nor yours.  I think your chances are better if you practice up on your social skills.”
    We study geometry and talk about spirit pouches until nine forty five.  I ride my bicycle home slowly, rolling over thoughts of Sioux Indians and spirit pouches in my mind.  This evening has been good.  I learned a little geometry, and Ty learned some social skills.  Tomorrow, even Cyrano de Bergerac will be proud of Ty’s metamorphosis.  Tomorrow will be a good day.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Four
     
     
     
     
    I Hate To Do Dishes
     
     
     
    Wednesday
     
    I am totally disgusted as I leave the seminary building Wednesday morning.  Had Ty Smith even heard a single thing that we talked about last night?  He still wears those sissy blue earrings and worse than that, he flashes silver when he talks, from the bar-bell that pierces his tongue.
    Today Ty sits up front and does what he does best.  He acts smart.  I think Brother Franklin’s jaw is going to hit the floor the first time Ty raises his hand to answer a question.  My own mouth falls open in amazement, too.  Ty is actually participating, and quite impressively.
    It is truly an immense change for Ty Smith, and a fabulous start, so why do I feel so let down and disgusted?  Can it be the chain dangling from his pocket that hypocritically clanks on the desk every time he raises his hand to answer a question?  Or the blue earrings that stare back like unblinking unbelieving eyes, symbolically proclaiming his refusal to yield his will to what his heart knows to be true?  It is a farce, meant only to impress Sarah Hansen.
    Maybe I am being too critical, I tell myself as I walk to my next class.  After all, a seed takes time to sprout.  Not everyone is converted instantaneously.
    I remember the miraculous conversion of Alma, where an angel came and chastised him for persecuting the Church of God.  Alma and the sons of Mosiah fell to the ground, and Alma lay as if he were dead for two days and two nights. [8]
    I decide that maybe Ty is a tough, rebellious spirit, and that it might take more than two days and two nights.  And maybe the Lord expects me to do more.  After all, Alma’s father and many others fasted and prayed for Alma.  I decide to do the same for Ty.
    I think school will never get over.  For a while during third period I am thoroughly convinced that we have somehow slipped into Kolob time. [9]   Today truly feels like