The Organist Wore Pumps (The Liturgical Mysteries) by Mark Schweizer Read Free Book Online Page A

every day in December.
    “ Very nice car,” I said, as I got into the passenger side, flipped on the heated seat, and buckled myself in.
    “ It was a present to myself when I became bishop,” said Gaylen with a little laugh. She started the car and then fastened her seat-belt as well. “I figured I’d have to drive all over Colorado and I’d need a good car. Who knew I’d be back here in a couple of years? I do like the heated seats, though. And the stereo.”
    “ How’s your dad doing, by the way?”
    “ He’s doing okay. He has good days and he has bad days. Mostly, I think he’s just tired.”
    “ Tired?”
    “ Physically tired, spiritually tired, emotionally tired. Just tired. I can see it in his eyes.”
    “ I’m sorry.”
    We turned down Maple Street, drove past the Holy Grounds Coffee Shop and headed out of town.
    “ Well,” said Gaylen with a sigh, “we all get old. We all die.”
    “ That’s pretty fatalistic, especially with Christmas coming up. I have a better plan.”
    “ You know something I don’t?”
    “ December 21st, 2012. It’s the new date of the Rapture. I’m just trying to hold on till then.”
    Gaylen laughed. “So you won’t be planning any Christmas Eve services that year.”
    “ Nope.”
    “ Well, I guess I won’t bother writing a sermon.”
    The town disappeared behind us and Maple Street turned to State Road 413. We were heading into Boone by a back road, a little longer, but infinitely more scenic than the main highway. The mountain laurel and the fir trees still had some color, but everything else was stark and bare and covered with the haze that gave the Smoky Mountains their name.
    “ Worst case scenario,” I said. “The Rapture doesn’t happen and you preach the same sermon you did the year before.”
    “ What about the choir?”
    “ We’ll do a couple choruses of Rudolf the Red-Nosed Bishop during the offertory. Hey, watch out there...”
    A family of skunks was crossing the highway in the fog and Gaylen didn’t see them right away. When she did see them, she touched her brakes. Nothing happened, or felt like it didn’t. The rear tires hit a patch of black ice that had been sheltered from the morning sun behind a large rock cliff. The car started to fish-tail badly, but seemed to correct itself. As the back of the car whipped back into the center of the road, three baby skunks appeared in the windshield, looking at us with huge, terrified eyes. Gaylen spun the steering wheel, more out of instinct than anything else.
    I felt the car leave the road and hit the first tree with a screech of torn metal. The airbags deployed, smacked us back against the seats, then deflated in an instant. I tasted blood. We hit the second tree.
    Then darkness.

Chapter 5

    I saw a bright light, blinked, and turned my head. I’d been napping on my gurney in the emergency room.
    “ Attaboy,” said the doctor flicking his pen-light into my eyes, first one and then the other. “Sorry to wake you up, but you had quite a rap on the ol’ coconut.” He clicked the flashlight off and dropped it into his breast pocket. “You remember anything?”
    “ Yep,” I said, trying to shake off the cobwebs. “I remember.”
    After we’d hit the second tree, Gaylen and I had sat there, motionless, for a few minutes. Then a voice came on a speaker telling us that the sensors had sent a message to the OnStar security switchboard saying that the airbags had deployed, and were we all right? Gaylen didn’t answer, or couldn’t, and I replied that we’d had an accident and were somewhere off the road. The operator said she’d stay on the line and send help immediately. I was suddenly very grateful that Gaylen had splurged on the new Volvo with all the bells and whistles.
    Nancy and Dave showed up before the ambulance and had me out of the car by the time the ambulance arrived on the scene. We hadn’t moved Gaylen, but waited for the EMTs, fearing some internal injuries. She was conscious