Colors Read Online Free Page A

talents, or wanting to display her boy-catching prowess? Could be any or all. I hate that she can turn me on and turn me off, all in a thirty-second cycle.
    I cast my eyes at the floor and say, “Yeah.” Why am I here? Church is just not my thing.
    “Come on.” She grabs my hand. Possessive. “I want you to meet Brother Kenny, our Minister of Music.” I remember her husband joke, and pull away from her grasp.
    She looks at me with a whatever look, but my maneuver doesn’t stop her. She latches onto my arm, dragging me across the room to a sandy-haired man.
    He sports a perfectly tailored suit, and his hair is shaped and styled. This guy is raking in the big bucks at this place.
    “Kenny,” Melissa says, “I want you to meet Neil Darrien.”
    The music minister clasps my right hand and shakes it vigorously, holding on for dear life. “Welcome to the Church, Neil.” His smile slashes his face. Friendly. A bit smarmy. “Your tape blew me away. And Melissa’s told me great things about you. We’re glad you have chosen to worship with us.”
    Uh-oh. A tiny knot begins to form in my stomach.
    “Just here to sing, sir,” I say, trying not to emphasize sing too much. I don’t want to make the guy mad. After all, a chance to perform is a chance to perform. But I don’t want to feed any soul-saving designs he may have, either.
    “And”—Kenny glances at the clock on the back wall—“it’s almost time for just that. Excuse me a moment. I need some quiet time with the Lord before we begin.” He retreats into an office off the rehearsal room.
    “Come on, Neil,” Melissa says, grabbing my arm once more, “we’ll sit here.” She’s being particularly bossy tonight. I hope it’s just her way of trying to make me feel welcome.
    She yanks me to a couple of very comfortable-looking, padded folding chairs in the center of the front row.
    “Worship?” I whisper, leaning close to Melissa.
    “Don’t mind Brother Kenny. That’s just the way he talks.”
    I need several deep breaths. Let’s get this thing started. Help me, Satine. Melissa bows her head, praying. Seeing this, I require several more deep breaths. This time I don’t invoke the powers of Satine. I really need to stop doing that.
    When the room fills up, Brother Kenny emerges from the office and steps in front of the group.
    I survey the room. There must be 150 voices in this choir.
    “Praise the Lord,” Brother Kenny intones. A chorus of amens. “Isn’t this a beautiful evening to raise our voices to our Savior?” More amens.
    What have I gotten myself into? Melissa shoots me a don’t worry look.
    “We are blessed tonight,” Brother Kenny continues, “to have a new sheep in our fold. Melissa has brought her friend Neil to us. Stand up, Neil.”
    No doubt red as a fire truck, I stand and turn to the group, nod, then sit down.
    “Neil has a mighty instrument, and he is here to share it with us and the Lord tonight, and, of course, at our Sunday morning service.”
    The group applauds as a few of them shout “Praise God” and “Welcome, Brother Neil.”
    Just concentrate on the singing. This will be your biggest audience ever. Forget about all this Jesus stuff and focus on your craft.
    “Let’s begin our practice with a prayer, shall we?” Brother Kenny bows his head. “Lord, we come to you in thanksgiving this evening for bringing Neil to us. We ask you bless us as we prepare the music for Sunday’s services and that you particularly bless Melissa and Neil as they share their talents with you, Lord. To Thine be the Glory. In Jesus’s precious, Holy Name. Amen.”
    Again, several choir members echo amen. Cringe.
    Brother Kenny takes the choir through a series of warm-ups not unlike the warm-ups Ms. Walter puts us through at school.
    After that, Kenny announces, “Let’s begin with a few of the pieces we’re putting on our CD.”
    The accompanist begins at Kenny’s signal, and the others immediately recognize each piece. Melissa