Part 31 (1/2)
”What happened to him?” I asked.
”Nichols hired him back,” said Morgan. ”Michael told me he was working with Nichols on a water project, developing a spring up in the hills somewhere. Apparently, Nevin was riding his horse back from the project when he fell off and hit his head. His foot was caught in the stirrup, so the horse dragged him all the way back to the corral. At least, that's the story. n.o.body actually saw it happen.”
”He was working with Nichols?” I wanted to verify.
”According to Michael.”
”Nichols hired him?” Kyle asked. ”After that scene in the garage, he still hired him?”
”Michael says Mrs. Macon was against it, but Nichols wanted Nevin to live on the place and work for him. You can draw some nasty conclusions.”
Kyle shook his head at me. ”I wouldn't go up there alone.”
He and Morgan waited for my answer.
I thought it over and said, ”You two just pray for me. I'll be all right.”
SAt.u.r.dAY, at least three hundred people from almost as many faraway places filled the folding chairs under the blue-and-white striped big top, and Brandon Nichols/Herb Johnson held forth in a glorious manner. It was the first of his meetings I'd ever attended, and I could quickly see why Kyle got so upset and wrote that letter to the paper. This guy could sell snow to an Eskimo. The healings were dramatic to say the least, and all the wonderful talk-of love, brotherhood, peace, safety, a new world-just went on and on, and the people ate it up. I recognized several familiar faces: Matt Kiley was in the back, apparently an usher; Michael Elliott was helping direct traffic and bring prophetic comfort wherever needed; Dee Baylor and Adrian Folsom were present, but not sitting near each other, which was a little unusual. Don Anderson the appliance dealer actually went forward with the other pet.i.tioners, wanting a special blessing for his business.
Before Nichols preached, several went to the podium to give testimonies. All I had to do was mentally subst.i.tute a few key names and words-”Brandon” for Jesus, for example, or ”follower” for Christian-and the testimonies could have come right out of a Sunday night church meeting.
”My life used to be a mess,” said a young professional from Colorado. ”I had a great job running a resort in Vail and I was making plenty of money, but it just didn't satisfy. Something was missing. Then I found Brandon, and that's made all the difference!”
”I became a follower two weeks ago,” said a young woman from Redding, California, ”and my life has never been the same. I used to be on drugs, but now that's over. Brandon-” Then she giggled and said, ”I like to think of him by his real name,” and everyone chuckled at what she was implying. ”Brandon has brought real meaning to my life and I love him dearly.”
Then Andy Parmenter, the retired executive from Southern California, stood behind the podium and said, ”Brandon has dramatically affirmed what I have always believed, that whatever it is, I can do it. There's no mountain too tall to block your path if you just believe in yourself. I think this little town is going to become a world-renowned showplace for exactly that principle! We are here, we are strong, we have what it takes to build a better world. So don't miss out. Get on board. Let Brandon touch your life and believe!”
He sat down to whoops and applause.
Nichols sat on the platform listening to all this and obviously enjoying it. Sitting to his immediate right was, of all people, Sally Fordyce. One look told me she was a total, 100 percent follower- and maybe more. She was wearing a long white dress that matched his white tunic, and the shawl and sandals made her look like a biblical character. There was an obvious affection between them. They touched and held hands frequently. Their eyes met as they shared the laughter. When someone praised him, she would stroke his shoulder. My guess was that she no longer went home to Charlie and Meg at night.
Sitting to Nichols's immediate left was Mary Donovan, the Catholic friend of Dee Baylor. I didn't know her very well, only that she tagged around a lot with Dee. She was wearing a long, blue dress and a shawl over her head, like every statue of the Virgin Mary, and she seemed to be acting very . . . shall we say, icon-like?
Nichols gave her a kindly, playful nudge, and she giggled with embarra.s.sment. The audience picked up the idea. ”Mom!” they called. ”G.o.d bless you, Mom!”
She rose slowly, gathering her shawl about her head and taking small steps with a fluid, dancer-like gracefulness. She approached the podium and then, both hands extended, said airily, ”Blessings to you all!”
”Blessings,” they echoed back.
”Today the Lord has done great things, and holy is his name! He has touched the weak and made them strong. He has brought wealth to the needy and courage to the fainthearted. Be thankful, one and all. Be thankful!”
”Thank you,” rippled through the audience, and Nichols nodded back.
”From the earth comes water, from the water comes new life. Be thankful, one and all!”
”Thank you,” they repeated.
And Nichols smiled and nodded again.
They have a regular liturgy going here, I thought.
But just who is Mary Donovan supposed to be? They're calling her Mom. The Mom? I had to wonder what Dee, Mary's former mentor, must be feeling about all this. Mary was getting the attention now.
This was too much.
I noticed Nancy Barrons standing in a doorway of the tent with Mrs. Macon. The two were talking quietly, but Nancy didn't appear to be acting as a reporter today. If I learned Nancy had become a follower I knew I would scream.
The moment Nichols rose to speak, he told the crowd, ”Turn to someone and say, *This world needs someone like you.' Go ahead.”
Someone turned to me and said it, but I didn't even turn. I had made up my mind long ago I'd never turn to anyone and say anything ever again, but mostly, I was stunned. Where'd Nichols pick up that little routine?
”Folks, I'll have you know, we are now officially county-approved!” Everyone cheered. ”The spring is developed, the water system is upgraded, the storage tank is in, and we have our permit for the new headquarters! The porta-potties will soon be a thing of the past!”
More cheers.
”But wait, I see something,” said Nichols, closing his eyes, seeing spiritually. ”I see a spirit of doubt in this place, clinging to minds, spreading a poison of fear and anxiety. Do you feel that today? Do you?”
Several muttered affirmatively.
”BEGONE!”
His shout made me jump, as it did others. There was a wail from the crowd as, supposedly, the spirit of doubt departed.
More cheers and applause.
I had to do some praying. This whole thing was bigger and moving faster than I had imagined. What in the world was I doing here? Would Nichols even have time to talk to me?
TWO HOURS LATER, Brandon Nichols and I were walking along the white fence that bordered a large horse paddock. As it turned out, he saw me in the audience as soon as the meeting began and couldn't wait to take this walk with me. We weren't necessarily alone. We could talk privately, but Matt Kiley and two other men stood across the paddock to keep an eye on things.
He was giddy with excitement. ”Things are moving right along, Travis, faster than I'd hoped!”
”So I see,” I replied with a lack of enthusiasm. ”I was surprised. I really was.”
”Give the people what they want, they'll come.”
”It's quite a show.”
He paused and leaned on the fence. ”It always is. Everywhere, every Sunday.” He looked directly at me. ”Am I right?”
I saw no need to get into that. ”We need to talk about Herb Johnson.”
He only smiled. ”Maybe we should talk about that speeding ticket you got from Brett Henchle.”
I took a breath and made a decision not to get angry. ”I'll contest it in court and probably get it thrown out. I wasn't speeding, I have a perfect driving record and a witness, I know the judge, and the judge knows me. There, we've talked about it.” I waited, then I prodded, ”Herb Johnson.”
”Herb is a plant you grind up and put in soup. Call me Brandon.”
”I talked to-”
”To Abe. And Hattie. I know. They have terrible memories if they can't even remember what my name is.”