The Little Church in the Valley: The Little Church, #1

By Ty Keenum

Follow the lives, loves and customs of an isolated community in the north Georgia mountains. Former football star, now senior church Elder, Buster Cheatle tries to thread the needle between legal and ethical as he attempts to keep the church viable for its devoted followers. Traditional beliefs are put to the test as a female visiting pastor creates a financial windfall for the little church and the disgraced current pastor continues on his path of self destruction. Will the Elders break with one hundred years of tradition and follow the new pastor to fame and fortune even if it exposes their community to outside scrutiny?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ty Keenum
• Release date: Apr 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798985835519

Book preview

Jesus Paid It All

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Reverend Daniel had gone the extra mile to ensure a bumper turnout for the revival. The retiring Reverend had sent the Ladies Auxiliary into Blairsville to place revival announcements under the windshield wipers of all the cars at Walmart. Though the ladies had about a twenty percent rejection rate, undaunted, they un-crumpled the rejected circulars and reused them.

On their first day, Wal-Mart employees wearing the familiar blue vests approached the Ladies Auxiliary in the parking lot. The Ladies disarmed the blue-clad army with one question. Do you love Jesus? they asked.

No one in Blairsville, Georgia would ever admit publicly to not loving Jesus. The Wal-Mart folks allowed The Ladies Auxiliary club to stay if they kept the area clean. To show their service to the community, The Ladies Auxiliary picked up all the trash as they went, not just the discarded circulars. They even returned the shopping carts back to the buggy holders.

While the Ladies Auxiliary worked the Walmart parking lot for attendees, they also worked the local businesses for goods or services to be donated. They cited as their cause bringing Jesus into the soul of some poor lost sinner.

Back at the Little Church in the Valley, the men folk of the church pitched tents and built concession booths that spread about the church parking lot to gain maximum exposure.

Six revivalists were scheduled for the week, one headliner and five hopefuls. Two of the hopefuls were fresh out of the seminary. The other preachers were employed at small churches similar in size to the Little Church in the Valley. Each of the applicants would open in the big tent for the headliner, the Right Reverend Hap Johnstone. After the last hopeful preached on Friday night, the pastor selection team would vote to determine if they had a viable candidate. If so, the candidate would then be asked to preach again on the sixth and final night. If the hopeful contender filled the pastor selection committee with the same enthusiasm in his second sermon as he did in his first, the group was charged to make an offer.

The selectors consisted of Reverend Daniel, the senior Elders, and Treasurer Mulva Lyte. The selection committee had at its disposal a robust set of perks to attract a young minister to their remote location in the mountains. First, they provided a fully furnished, Craftsman-style parsonage with three bedrooms and two and a half baths, all utilities paid. Next, they offered a late model four-wheel drive vehicle, suitable for reaching the flock in the most remote of locations. The Hawker General Store would provide gasoline for the vehicle and a generous grocery stipend. The new minister would only be out of pocket for clothing and personal items he didn't want to run by the cashier at the Hawker General Store.

The parsonage was the command post for all things Revival for the coming week. To make way for the potential new minister, Reverend Daniel and Bubba had begun moving their belongings to their new home, a little cabin that abutted the church cemetery—the original dwelling on the Hawker property. It was a short walk to the church and would provide a serviceable nest for the men until the next mission was revealed.

Inside the parsonage, the committee exuded a sense of history and quiet resolve as they sat around the kitchen table preparing their final checklist. Outside, the concessionaires had made their last-minute preparations, and the lights strung about the parking lot burned brightly. Revivalists began to arrive around 4PM and jockeyed for the best parking spots. From all indications, the revival would be a memorable occasion.

The first sermons were set to begin at 7PM, with the Right Reverend Hap Johnstone scheduled for the main tent for all six nights. His motorcade arrived promptly at 5PM. When the cavalcade arrived, the Elders understood why the Right Reverend commanded a thousand dollars a day. One large tour bus preceded two Cadillac Escalades in the convoy, one for security and the other for the backup singers, The Heavenly Hummingbirds. The tour bus held the Right Reverend and the lucky ones blessed enough to have the Right Reverend's favor. The giant bus included a master bedroom with separate bath and a very efficient kitchen facility.

In addition to the guaranteed fee, the contract provided that the Ladies Auxiliary would provide three meals a day for the Right Reverend’s support staff for the duration of the stay. The purchase of groceries for the Right Reverend's personal chef also fell on the female volunteers of the Little Church. The personal chef was an attractive woman in her early thirties, Crystal Leer, who traveled with the preacher everywhere he went. She was officially described as the Right Reverend's scheduler and secretary. Some people presumed that the young lady performed other duties, too, as scandal and rumors were a part of any normal community.

Upon arrival, the Right Reverend and his chef/scheduler/secretary sought out their liaison for the week, Buster Cheatle, who would serve as their contact for all revival-related issues. Buster was rocking on the front porch of the rectory. As the visitors approached, he unfolded himself from his rocker and reached into his front pants pocket. Before saying a word, he handed the Right Reverend Johnstone ten crisp one-hundred-dollar bills.

Buster looked down at the Right Reverend and said, I’m going to need you to sign my ledger book that you’ve received payment for the first day.

Glad to. Glad to, replied Reverend Johnstone as he flourished his initials in the ledger book.

Buster then directed the Right Reverend and Miss Leer to the Ladies Auxiliary booth to get further details about meals and accommodations for the rest of the entourage.

Buster was tremendously relieved to see his headliner on-site. Though he got the other five preachers for the price of Hap T. Johnstone, it was the reverend who would bring in the crowds. People who hadn't darkened a church-house door in years would come to hear the Right Reverend Johnstone mix fire and brimstone and repackage it as salvation. The Right Reverend's healing powers were legendary, and Buster knew the afflicted would come from far and wide to get in line for healing.

While it was rumored that the Right Reverend's serpent skills were sub-par, his skills as an orator and healer were top shelf. Like a major league baseball player, it was rare to find a player that could hit forty home runs, average over three hundred, and steal ninety bases. If you got two out of three, then you had an all-star player, and so it was with Hap T. Johnstone.

The two revival preachers fresh from seminary had what could be best referred to as a slugger's chance of winning the job. The Little Church needed a younger membership, and perhaps youth begat youth. It was worth a look. The other three Evangelists were on vacation from their churches and trying to supplement their incomes. If a better situation arose while on vacation, who could argue that God's providence didn’t create the opportunity for advancement?

The opening ministers were assigned their nights to deliver their message by pulling their names out of a hat. Reverend Daniel felt it was as fair a way to do it as any other. Each of the senior Elders had been assigned a tent to manage. The group of Elders in Training would assist with collections and any other issues that arose. The Elders were confident they had everything under control. This was not their first rodeo, as they say.

A Revival Rulebook '' had been printed to familiarize the visiting ministers to the Little Church in the Valley’s expectations. There would be no handling of fire" or drinking of poison, as performed at some Pentecostal churches. The Elders recognized the truth of Mark 16:18: "They will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well." However, the Elders felt that keeping serpents in control was a strong enough test of faith for the Revival without exposing the church to the potential liability of poisoning or flambeauing a parishioner.

The rulebook included a schedule of mealtimes and an advisory that the Ladies Auxiliary didn’t tolerate tardiness. A map of the surrounding area showing the location of drug stores, malls, etc. was also included. Local points of interest had been highlighted in yellow on the map. The planning committee felt like they had thought of everything.

Yep, Buster thought. Everything should go smoothly.

To God Be The Glory

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The sky was still as bright as noon at 6PM when the crowds started filling the Little Church parking lot. The Ladies Auxiliary had worked tirelessly to create a state-fair-like experience. Their goal was to make the revival fun for all ages.

All about the parking lot, the Ladies had set up booths to provide the impending crowds with refreshments. Most of the followers came directly from work and truly appreciated being able to buy dinner onsite. The Ladies Auxiliary had provided the very best of carnival food from corn dogs to snow cones to nachos.

There was a T-shirt booth that displayed shirts with the current year’s theme: I Found Jesus at Summer Revival 2010. The T-shirt booth included a spray-paint artist to personalize the shirt with the customer’s name, for an extra five dollars. Another small booth sold small bric-a-brac items with the Little Church in the Valley logo emblazoned prominently on each item.

In fact, the bric-a-brac booth had been a point of contention with the Right Reverend Hap T. Johnstone. The Right Reverend traveled with a full line of Evangelical artifacts, specifically blessed by Hap T. Johnstone. It all came down to a line-by-line listing in the contract with the Little Church, detailing who could sell what. The Right Reverend was set up to provide his followers with a complete line of memorabilia, from Bibles to seashells with the sign of the cross painted on them. The Reverend's marketing strategy was to set his prices so that everyone could afford something. He didn’t want anyone to leave empty handed.

The awning for the Right Reverend’s booth attached to the side of the tour bus and ran a full forty feet. It provided about four-hundred square feet of retail space. The booth customarily provided the Right Reverend with about $10 a square foot in sales per night. If the revival was particularly forceful, the Right Reverend’s gift booth could expect to double their average sales on the last night of the revival. This revenue was strictly Hap T. Johnstone’s. He did not share any portion with his host. Twenty-five to thirty thousand dollars in souvenir sales was not an uncommon week for the Revivalist. Like his healings, he provided no guarantees—and absolutely no refunds.

Promptly at 7PM, the lights throughout the parking lot flickered, and the speakers played the hymn, All Are Welcome. Nearly everyone had taken their place before the warning. People who came to see the Right Reverend Hap T. Johnstone had started packing the folding chairs in tent number one at about 5PM.

The main tent was double the size of tents two and three. The hopefuls were relegated to tents two and three, biding their time for their opportunity in the big tent. The aspirants would rotate through tents and start times to give the crowds the opportunity to sample all the preachers.

Monday’s schedule had Al DaBino opening for Hap T. Johnstone in Tent One, Dale E. Bannock opening for Brighton Bellows in Tent Two, and Bill Plier opening for Rocky Rhoades in Tent Three.

Al DaBino stood anxiously in the wings of Tent One, bouncing from one foot to the other as he waited to be introduced. As awkward a twist of fate as ever had befallen a man, Reverend Al DaBino did suffer from a skin pigmentation problem. While he was not Edgar Winter pale, he was very close. The DaBino family, immigrants from Italy, had no idea that their son Alfredo's name would be shortened to the nickname Al when he reached first grade. It took a while for his classmate's language skills to catch up to the fact that they had irony in their midst. A very pale boy named Al DaBino. Thereafter, he was known as Al the Bino.

As a result of the constant teasing from his peers, Al chose to ostracize himself. He looked for answers in the spiritual plane to help explain his plight. His parent's Catholicism was not the answer. Al felt their one size fits all dogma left too many unanswered questions. When Al was a senior in high school, the only girl who had ever spoken courteously to him asked him to come to her church. It was an Evangelical, Spirit-filled church. Al was overwhelmed by the emotions he felt during the service. At the Altar Call, Al came forward and dedicated his life and service to their Jesus. Now, here he was, eight years later, auditioning to be the pastor of one of the oldest Evangelical churches in the country. He felt on fire and filled with the Holy Spirit.

Hearing his name, he moved quickly to the stage and stood behind the altar. Pastor DaBino had been introduced to the crowd as a young Spirit-filled minister taking time from his flock in Suwannee, Georgia, to bring his message of love and salvation to the folks gathered there tonight. Just that quickly, he was in front of the biggest audience of his life.

Al DaBino looked out over the seated crowd of five hundred—and another hundred or so clamoring for standing room. He prayed for the strength and guidance to reach the souls gathered before him. He also prayed for control of his voice—and his intestines.

Fifty-five minutes later, Al DaBino passed a beautiful, well-fed, four-foot copperhead between his legs and behind his back while he danced with the Spirit of the Lord and the ferocity of a dervish. Al had hoped to pass the snake directly to the Right Reverend Hap T. Johnstone as sort of a passing the baton moment, but the reverend’s people made it clear that wouldn’t happen. Instead, Pastor DaBino placed the snake back in the secure box in front of the altar and exited stage right.

Elder Diggum, a corpulent man sporting a haircut appropriate for a friar from the Middle Ages, sweated profusely through his blue dress shirt as he stepped up to the microphone. In a booming voice, Barry Diggum introduced the man who needs no introduction—the Right Reverend Hap T. Johnstone!

A deep dive into the Right Reverend’s background revealed that Hap T. Johnstone was born Happy Tobea Johnstone to disaffected members of the Johnstone and Johnstone Empire. Hap’s father had protested the exploitation of Third World countries by his family’s conglomerates, to the point of being expunged from the board of directors. He was told to shut up or be completely disinherited. Hap’s father decided to take up painting, golf, and tennis. Unable to continue the legacy of the family business, Hap was at a loss for a career choice. Hap exhausted twelve years of college life pursuing assorted disciplines before settling on Divinity school.

Once Hap divined he could interpret the Bible for people who were desperate for a message, he was on his way. When he found that people believed he had healing powers, he was shocked—shocked but happy to receive the adulation. Drawing on his stipend from the family fortune, Hap promoted his message and marketed his brand throughout the country. Hap was able to cut short the time from neophyte to Evangelical superstar by decades. Using his stipend and the marketing techniques he had learned in six years of business school, Hap arrived in just under five years.

Now, as Hap stood before the congregation stretched out before him, his mind went through the mental list necessary to bring off a successful revival. It was Monday, therefore sermon one. He was in Nunsuch, Georgia, as the guest of the Little Church in the Valley, an unaffiliated Pentecostal church with a long tradition of snake handling. His personalized snake box was filled with harmless corn snakes and Northern water snakes, non-venomous snakes that bore a strong resemblance to copperheads and rattlesnakes.

Hap checked his vest pocket to ensure that he had the anti-anxiety pill he would take thirty minutes into the sermon. Snakes made Hap’s flesh crawl, so the anti-anxiety pill in addition to the tea glass of Bourbon he had before the show would keep Hap level when it came time to start dancing with the snakes.

Hap looked to each side and verified that his security members were in place, watching the crowd and not his backup singers. Satisfied that his checklist was complete, Hap stepped up to the microphone and straightened the knot in his Armani tie. With a brief shrug of Hap’s shoulders, the piano player hit the first note as he began to sing, What A Friend We Have in Jesus. The Heavenly Hummingbirds joined in harmony, and the feature attraction of Summer Revival 2010 was off and running.

At the end of the final verse, Hap raised his hands to mid-shoulder height and lowered them, signifying to the audience—and to his entourage, that it was time to sit. In a voice trained by graduate-level public speaking courses, Hap went into sermon number one: What a Friend We Have in Jesus.

For ten minutes straight, hardly catching a breath, Reverend Hap spoke about the importance of obtaining the friendship of the man from Galilee. Then, as if struck by lightning, the Right Reverend stood straight as a board, his eyes fixed on some remote object. The Right Reverend spoke in tongues for three minutes. No words were decipherable, no specific language comprehensible. No, this was the physical manifestation of the Holy Spirit, making his presence known through his disciple, Hap T. Johnstone.

Defined by linguistic experts, glossolalia or speaking in tongues, is the melodious vocalizing of speech-like sounds that are incomprehensible to the listener. When defined by members of the Pentecostal faith, they reference the Bible passage Acts 2:1-4: Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them. 

When defined by the Right Reverend Hap T. Johnstone, it meant a break in the action and the opportunity to be refreshed with whatever libation was available.

The crowd waited patiently for the Right Reverend to compose himself. After a couple of minutes, he charged back into his sermon as if there had been no break. For the next twenty minutes, the Right Reverend extolled the importance of having Jesus for a friend. Jesus could protect us from all harm and pave the path to prosperity for those who were ready to accept Him as their Lord and Savior.

After twenty minutes, the Right Reverend was ready for another little break, and so, with a shrug of his shoulders, he started the piano player into a medley of gospel songs. The Right Reverend began the chorus of the Old Rugged Cross, and then he let the Heavenly Hummingbirds take over for the next few minutes. The musical interlude was the perfect opportunity to pass the collection plate, and the neophyte Elders of the Little Church in the Valley worked swiftly and unobtrusively to complete their mission.

Hap reached into his vest pocket and swallowed his anti-anxiety pill. After taking a big chug of water, Hap T. Johnstone was ready to bring it home.

Having convinced his audience of the importance of having Jesus for a friend, Hap spent the next ten minutes describing the horrible loss in this life—and in the next, of Jesus’ friendship. The horrors described in this life rivaled the tribulations of Job. One could expect ailments and afflictions, coupled with crushing poverty if one couldn't get right with Jesus today. Without Jesus, the horrors for the next life were incomprehensible, living in a lake of fire was just one of the horrors described. Hap T. Johnstone was at his best when describing the pains of eternal damnation. By the time he had finished his last segment, the audience was primed for the Altar Call and Testament of Faith.

Once again, the Right Reverend Hap T. Johnstone shrugged his shoulders, and the piano player broke into Love Lifted Me. The Heavenly Hummingbirds broke into song behind him as Hap pulled the microphone loose from the pulpit and carried it with him down to the floor in front of the altar. Hap's most trusted security guard reached into a wooden crate painted white with Private Property of Hap T. Johnstone Ministries stenciled in black on the side. The head of security reached into the crate and selected a sluggish, well-fed corn snake to pass to the Right Reverend.

Mustering all his courage and love for the coin of the realm, Hap took the snake and began his tap dance for Jesus. As Hap danced, he hollered out whatever scriptures that popped into his brain. After making a single pass of the area between the aisles and the first row, Hap returned the snake to his security man and called into the microphone, Who's ready to accept Jesus into their lives?

Lines immediately filled both aisles. Hap’s security filed the lost souls seeking Redemption into one queue. People requesting healings were pre-screened and pinned with a colored ribbon that indicated the body part or disease that needed to be exorcized. To the audience, the Right Reverend looked prescient when he announced the affliction the seeker suffered.

The lines going down both aisles looked endless, and the Right Reverend suspected that followers were sneaking in from the other tents, hoping to take advantage.

Security and the Elders are supposed to be keeping things straight, Hap thought to himself. Unfortunately, sinners can be very resourceful.

The plans were to pass out blessings for an hour before wrapping up the meeting with a prayer. To the Right Reverend's skilled eye, there appeared to be at least two hours of laying hands. However, he knew an overflow condition like this created the opportunity to do private healings, which could be very lucrative. Hap didn’t slow his process to create additional opportunities, but he would also not work overtime to catch up. His contract specified one hour, and one hour it would be.

At the end of the hour of healing, the Right Reverend waved his hand above his head and the piano player began playing, "Just as I Am." The Heavenly Hummingbirds picked up the cue, and Reverend Hap headed back up the steps to the stage. Placing the microphone back in its stand at the pulpit, the Right Reverend looked out over the audience and beamed brightly.

I think we've made a good start, and I hope you can come back tomorrow night and share in the miracles we're about to perform. Reverend Hap waved goodbye, and he and his entourage exited the tent.

Feeling particularly gregarious, Hap decided to work at the gift booth, signing his name to memorabilia. An autograph was ten dollars, whether it went in a Bible or on a seashell with the sign of the Crucifixion. The requests Hap received for personal healings were passed off to his scheduler.

Before retiring for the night, Hap sought out Elder Cheatle for a brief discussion of the accounting of the collection. I put the count between 550 and 560. How about you? Hap asked the Elder.

Elder Cheatle replied, Sounds about right.

Satisfied that the Elder was close to the head count Hap had conjured, Hap took his leave. Hap would receive his share of the gate after the accounting meeting the next day. Hap was happy with that, if the church didn’t try to short him by saying the crowd was smaller than it was. Hap knew he drew big numbers, and he knew how much the average person put in the plate, even in these economically challenged areas. If they agreed on crowd size, they’d probably agree on the amount collected. "It’s just good business to state your position before too much time has passed," Hap thought. Satisfied with himself, Hap returned to the tour bus to pursue more earthly endeavors.

How Great Thou Art

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As the second day of the revival began, the Elders of the Little Church in the Valley gathered round the kitchen table in the rectory to discuss the previous day's events. The day was a smashing success. Records were made in both turnout and revenue. Conservative estimates put the crowd at twelve hundred people. The Ladies Auxiliary reported an almost complete sellout of food items. The Ladies in Waiting of the Ladies Auxiliary had already been dispatched to Blairsville to scour the Walmart for items that could be resold easily. Any items that were individually packed were prized. Some items, like giant dill pickles, would be sold individually, straight from the container.

Pepsi Cola in Blairsville had been called to restock their little pull-along trailer with double the Co2 and mix canisters. Pepsi Cola had donated the trailer and product to get exposure for their products deep in the heart of Coca Cola country. Hawker's General Store provided the ice. Cold drinks at a dollar a cup were highly profitable. Since the evening temperatures were in the upper eighties, and most of the foods chosen were of the salty variety, the crowd was desperate for fluid replacements. The suggestion of selling Gatorade or other energy drinks had been discarded due to