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Subject: LITTLE ROCK! Mama was a Preacher. Chapter 3-C of A/B/C (M/M) ADULTS ONLY!
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----Beginning Chapter 3C of A/B/C----------

Steve left, and we continued with our rehearsal.

Two hours later Steve returned. He and Harry were carrying something
that 
reminded me of a large suitcase. They sat it next to the 
piano, and removed the cover. It looked like a record player, 
except that it had a spiral grooved rod across the top which pulled the 
head. "This is a Presto Disk Recorder, we had to buy two of them to get
it 
at wholesale. We use the other one for recording meetings, and stuff on 
location. We can record a half hour by using both sides of one of 
those 16 inch disks.

"Also that extra 50 feet of mic cable your mom wants makes the line to 
the station too long, so we'll connect the microphone to the Presto, 
and then connect the output to the line feeding the station. Steve 
will operate the recorder, making sure the volume level is constant. 
Last night was murder, the volume levels were all over the place. 
About the time I thought I had the level set someone would shout into 
the microphone and almost pop us off of the air."

Jackie asked if they would like to test the recorder. We could record 
the three specialty numbers.

Both Harry and Steven thought that was a great idea, and proceeded to 
get everything connected.

We duplicated "Softly and Tenderly", as we had performed it the previous 
afternoon. No piano, just Jackie leading me through the number.

For the next half hour we rehearsed "Heaven Came down". Jackies keyboard 
antics brought life to that number that went beyond the composers
intent.

Finally we started to rehearse "Daddy Sang Bass". It sounded a little 
thin during the first run through. 

It was obvious that we needed good bass harmonization as backup. 
Steve and Harry offered their services. The next try still wasn't 
good. The boys needed some guidance. I sat back and watched Jackie 
whip them into shape. After the seventh run through he felt it was 
good enough to record.

"Harry, Steve says you've got an idea that will knock our socks off. 
Want to talk about it?" 

Harry's response surprised us. "No, let's hold off till tomorrow. 
There are still a couple of points that I first want to run past my 
dad."

At 6:30 everyone was assembled in the tent. Every seat was occupied, 
and there was no parking space left outside.

Reverend Gregory mounted the platform. "Brothers and Sisters we are 
blessed. God has shown us a way of sharing our ministry, this revival, 
with thousands of people for hundreds of miles. Through the miracle of 
radio we will be broadcasting each service, in its entirety, for the 
length of our stay in your fair city.

"Sister Ruth will open the services with one of God's great gifts, 
singing to the praise of the all mighty."

She moved to the front of the platform, "Thank you Brother Gregory. 
Brother Jackie Marshall will lead us through "If we could see beyond 
today".

We were into the second verse when the light came on in the KRLA 
transmitter room. I noticed that Steve was recording the service.

The tempo and the spirit of the meeting continued upward, then suddenly 
reached a precipice off of which it dove, only to build again, and
beyond, before leaping off of a higher cliff.

Again the ramp was being built. Jackie was playing "Hide Thou Me" and 
came to a complete silence at the end of the first verse.

Mother stood in front of the microphone, and in a whisper "This passage 
is from Deuteronomy. The Lord speaketh unto his people referring
to the heathen: 'And he shall say, Where are their gods, their rock in 
whom they trusted, Which did eat the fat of their sacrifices, and 
drank the wine of their drink offerings?" 

She took the microphone from the stand, moved from behind the podium 
to the edge of the platform. Her voice now had more volume, and in 
what I could best describe as mockery she continued, "Let them rise up 
and help you, and be your protection." 

She held the microphone at arms length and shouted with all of her 
strength, "See now that I, am he, and there is no God with me: I kill, 
and I make alive; I wound, and I heal: neither is there any that can 
deliver out of my hand. For I lift up my hand to heaven, and say, I 
live forever."

Ignoring the steps she leaped to the ground, moving toward the
congregation, 
her voice filled with awe, "If I whet my glittering sword, and
mine hand take hold on judgment; I will render vengeance to mine 
enemies, and will reward them that hate me. I will make mine arrows 
drunk with blood, and my sword shall devour flesh; and that with the 
blood of the slain and of the captives, from the beginning of revenges 
upon the enemy." Every eye was glued to her as she moved down the 
aisle. She turned back toward the stage walking slowly back to the 
steps, "Rejoice, O ye nations, with his people: for he will avenge the 
blood of his servants, and will render vengeance to his adversaries, 
and will be merciful unto his land, and to his people." 

She returned the microphone to it's stand, "Oh! Hallelujah! If you 
have accepted Jesus Christ as your savior than you are one of HIS 
People."

She turned toward Jackie, "E flat. Johnny come over here. Who made the 
mountains?"

Jackie handed me a hymnal opened to page 95, and pointed at it.

Again, Jackie hit E flat, and mother repeated, looking directly at 
me as I moved toward her. Who made the mountains?"

My voice followed Jackies lead to G and asked, "Who made the Trees." I 
was expecting a response from her, but didn't get one, so I continued 
following Jackies lead, "Who made the river flow to the sea, and who 
hung the moon in the starry sky?"

She sang out, "SOMEBODY BIGGER THAN YOU AND I".

---------------------------------

The service was over. People lingered, talking with Mama, Jackie, and 
the Gregorys. 

Surreptitiously, I exited from the rear, and sat on the running board 
of Jackie's coupe.

The light from the tent was glaring and stark. I saw a silhouetted 
figure moving toward me. The shape was of someone about Peter's 
height, yet I knew it was not Peter. The outline was of someone wearing 
tight Levi's

I tried to shield my eyes. The person must have realized that I couldn't 
see them and moved to the left so the light was now reflecting off
of the coupe. "Johnny, I love the way you sing." The voice of a girl 
was unexpected. She was taller than was I, and a little older.

As she drew nearer I could see she was wearing an open necked shirt, 
Levi's and western boots. 

"Thank you. I'm not very good, but I practise a lot."

"You are kidding. You ARE good." She was now standing directly in 
front of me. "My name is Mary-Lou, and I live over there." She pointed 
to a pin point of light off in the dark distance. "It looks further 
than it is."

"I don't think I've seen you before."

"No, I don't usually like revival meetings. I went to one the Gregory's 
held last year and it bored the hell out of me. But you an your
Mama make it worth going to."

"Well, thanks.  We've only been with the Gregorys for about a month. 
We joined them in Clinton. Our first services were in Fort Smith."

"I gotta get home." She started to walk away toward the rear of the 
lot. "If you want to walk part way with me, we could sit along side 
of that stream and talk." She pointed in the direction of a small grove 
of trees.

I opened the rumble seat, and withdrew Jerry's old comforter.

She said, "Good Idea. We won't have to sit on the cold ground."

She took hold of my right hand leading me toward the distant light. 
Within a few minutes her hand ceased to lead, and became more intimate.

We spread the blanket along side the rippling brook. The water glistened 
with moon light. We sat there talking mostly about me, and the
imagined adventures that lay ahead. 

I stretched out on my back, looking up at the moon and the stars. Her 
fingers were making circles in my hair. She leaned over and kissed me.

"Have you ever seen a girl without clothes?"

"No, but I'd like to. Have you?"

"No, but I'd like to." She paused for quite a long time then said, 
"Want to?"

She began to unbutton her shirt as I removed my shoes and socks. I 
slipped out of my shirt as she was removing her Levi's. My pants were 
next.

We sat there in the moonlight, me in my jockey shorts, she in white 
panties and bra. My eyes were glued to her breasts as he removed the 
supporting cover. As they were released, they seemed to bounce. Both 
of our hands went to our lower undergarments. We watched each other as 
that last vestige of modesty was discarded. 

We lay next to each other, face to face, our arms embracing, our lips 
tasting the sweet nectar of first passion.

My manhood was erect and horizontal. She positioned it so that it lay 
vertically, imprisoned by the walls of our bodies. The heat radiating 
from her had enveloped my testicles. I remembered what Jimbo had said 
that first night up in the loft, "Gawd I'd like to put my peter in 
there."

And as with any other magical spell cast in the fervent seeking of 
maturity, the wish came to pass.

My little pecker was still at full staff eagerly looking toward further 
adventures when Mary-Lou, kissed me good night, dressed, and
walked off into the darkness.

I held the comforter close to me as I walked toward our trailer, 
thinking of Jerry, and wishing that he had been here tonight to share 
this first rite of manhood.


------END OF CHAPTER THREE------

If you would like to receive Chapter 4 by E-Mail, a critque on this 
chapter will be greatly appreciated.

Please E-Mail me at AUTHOR22@aol.com.

Mama was a Preacher is also available as a Book on Tape. 17 Audio
Cassettes.
Inquires to AUTHOR22@aol.com are invited.

The author also invites you to visit his homepage where you can access 
illustrated HTML as well as plain text versions of his three books.

http://www.netcom.com/~author22/small.html

Thank you.

AUTHOR22

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