This Rock Read Online Free

praying when I seen the door open and somebody slip into the back of the church. It was Moody, and he didn’t take his hat off when he come in. Moody never did hardly go to church. He was the last person I expected to see there, and he was the last person I wanted to see there. He had said he wouldn’t come. He slid into the back row with the other boys and backsliders. Henever did take his hat off. It was time for me to start praying, but all I could think of was Moody setting there with his hat on.
    I bowed my head, but instead of praying I said, “Will Moody Powell please take his hat off in church.” The words was out before I could stop myself.
    Everybody in the church turned around and looked back. There was snickers here and there. With a grin Moody lifted his hat and held it a few inches above his head, then dropped it to the floor. There was more snickering and titters from the boys in the back row.
    I prayed but don’t remember what I said. I had thought for days about what I’d say in a prayer, but I couldn’t remember a single word of what I’d planned. Moody had throwed me off. I swallowed twice and said something about thanking the Lord for bringing us all together on such a fine day. My face was hot and the sweat was breaking out under my arms and in my hands.
    When I finished praying and opened my eyes I seen Mama looking at me. She smiled and nodded, like she meant to say, You go ahead and do a good job now. There was circles of sweat under her arms. But I couldn’t look at her. And I couldn’t remember what hymn we was supposed to sing next. It was the offertory hymn and the two deacons, Silas Bane and my cousin U. G. Latham, come forward and took the collection plates from the table in front of the pulpit. Charlotte was looking at me and Mack was looking at me. And I remembered I’d told him “Nearer My God to Thee.” But it was too late. Mack frowned and flipped through the songbook and called out, “Number 326.”
    While they begun to sing, and I pretended to join in, all I could think of was what a gom I’d already made of things. I looked at the collection plates passing among the congregation and wondered why I’d even thought I could preach. How did I know what was the call and what was just vanity? Nobody but Mama had thought I had the gift. What was I going to say when the song ended? For then it would be time to begin my sermon.
    When the song was over the deacons brought the collection plates to the front, and Silas Bane poured the contents of one plate into the other and put the empty plate over the money like a lid. Both Mackand Charlotte took their seats on the benches, and I was alone in front of the church. As I stood up I felt the stares of the people like a furnace blasting my face. I wanted to step back out of the heat. I wanted to run out into the fresh air and sunlight.
    Stepping to the pulpit, I realized I’d left my Bible on the floor beside the chair. I’d already opened my mouth to speak, but I stopped to pick up the Bible. I spun around and kicked the chair so hard it banged the wall and clattered over on the floor.
    When I stood up again behind the pulpit and opened the Bible, the air in the church was absolutely still. You could have heard a spider scratching itself, or a moth belch. The air was so hot and tight it was in pain. The skin on my forehead felt stretched. The skin around my mouth was so tight I thought it was going to break. And my lips was stuck together.
    I tried to find the verse in Matthew about the Transfiguration, but I kept turning pages and couldn’t spot it nowhere. My hands was so sweaty they stuck to the paper. I thought I seen the chapter, and then it disappeared. I was looking in the Old Testament. It seemed like minutes and hours was passing while I flipped through the pages.
    â€œI want to read you a Bible verse,” I tried to say. But the words stuck in my throat. I