Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3

PART I
SPEAKING IN TONGUES

4

“FATHER,” MARINA SAID respectfully Wednesday morning over breakfast, trying for the umpteenth time to get what she wanted, “it’s really only politeness.”

“Will there be dancing there?” he asked calmly.

“I … don’t know.” That was true. She didn’t know if there would be dancing at Dot’s Friday-night church get-together.

“Marina, I’m very happy that you’re being so patient at working with Dot. She seems to be coming around to Jesus.” Not at all. “But I am not going to allow you to go socialize with her people. Dot is a lovely girl in spite of her upbringing and I think she can be saved.”

Marina was innocent about a lot of things, like why Dot insisted men were only out to get girls, but she understood manners because it was what she’d been taught all her life. If one kept constant company with a person, it was good manners to reciprocate an invitation whether one wanted to or not.

It was finally time she turned to Mother. She explained this carefully, as respectfully as she could. There was no shouting in this house, unlike Dot’s, where shouting was a sport. She would prefer shouting because the tense politeness hid too many things she didn’t understand. Father only shouted from the pulpit, but that was the voice of God thundering through him, so it didn’t count.

Mother listened politely, then her gaze flicked up to Father’s. They communicated in that silent way that made Marina uncomfortable. Not for the first time, she wished she had siblings so that she was not always the focus of their attention.

“And,” she added for good measure, having only just thought of it, “if her parents were to see me as a good example at their service, they might come around too.”

“You do have a point,” Father said gravely after a moment or two of thought. “I’ll pray on it.”

And God would tell him no. God gave Father almost everything he asked for. Occasionally, God gave Marina what she asked for, but not until she asked her father to pray for it. That was how Godly families functioned and Marina wouldn’t dare ask God for anything herself.

The only other thing she wanted was to keep Trey Dunham’s attention and she couldn’t ask her parents for that even if she wanted to. While she knew that her parents had begun courting when Mother was sixteen, Father had been eighteen, not twenty-four. She wasn’t quite sure how her parents would react if a twenty-four-year-old came calling, even if he did have a respectable and well-to-do business and was looking for a wife.

Marina wasn’t anywhere close to becoming a wife, but she was holding yesterday afternoon close and hoping Mr. Dunham would pop into Kresge’s this afternoon. Dot didn’t like him, but wouldn’t say why after meeting and talking to him. That bothered Marina. Dot took a dislike to very few people at first meeting—none that Marina could think of immediately—so why was she stuck on him?

Marina bit her lip and looked down at her plate.

Mr. Dunham was very handsome. He hadn’t fawned over Dot like every other boy, handsome or not. Was Dot … jealous? It was a thought she didn’t want to think, but …

“No, I’m not jealous!” Dot hissed at lunch when Marina broached the subject, “and I’m hurt that you think I would be. There’s something wrong with him.”

“Like what?” Marina asked, exasperated.

“He’s lying. He’s lying about who he is and what he wants.”

“How do you know?”

Dot shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know. It’s just … I have a feeling.”

That made Marina’s spine tingle. Dot’s feelings were right one hundred percent of the time, when she had them, which wasn’t very often.

She and Dot spent the rest of the day not speaking to each other, or at least, not passing notes in class. They walked from school to the bus stop to wait for the bus that would take them downtown. They rode in stiff silence until they got to their stop. As they walked to Kresge’s, Dot muttered, “I could be wrong.”

“What does Bishop think?” Marina asked reluctantly. Dot’s father wasn’t half as strict as Marina’s, but with Bishop Albright, there were lines one did not cross.

“I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want you to get in trouble.”

Marina and Dot lived three blocks apart, but their parents had never met. Dot’s father would if asked, but Marina’s father absolutely would not stand in the presence of a Satan-worshipping polygamist. Never mind Bishop only had one wife and had never met anybody who had more than that. Marina knew they didn’t worship Satan at all. Or at least, when she was around, they didn’t. Maybe Satan-worshipping families could be nice. She didn’t know.

That didn’t mean Bishop wouldn’t lecture Marina as if she were his daughter if he thought she was out of line. He never had, but Dot’s brother’s friends got yelled at for stupid things they did and Marina didn’t want to get in trouble with Bishop any more than she wanted to get in trouble with Father.

“That man seems to like you,” Dot said, still muttering, as they entered Kresge’s and found their booth. “I don’t … You know, in case I’m wrong. Maybe … I wouldn’t have to … I mean, when we went … ”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have to find me a date?” Marina asked softly.

“Yeah,” Dot admitted reluctantly. “I’d … like that. If you had your own somebody and weren’t miserable.”

“I have fun,” Marina protested.

“Not enough. Speaking of that,” she said, suddenly back to her perky self, “did your parents say yes to Friday night?”

“Father said he’d pray on it.” Dot deflated immediately. “Are you coming to church with me tonight?”

“I always do.”

“So … could you … ?”

“No,” she said firmly. “I am not getting saved. I’m not getting baptized. I’m not joining your church. Marina, I just come with you to be nice. That’s all.” She paused, then blurted, “I don’t like your god.”

Marina blinked and looked at her. “My God?” she asked, confused. “He’s yours too. He’s everybody’s God. He’s just … God.”

“Then I don’t like him,” she said firmly.

Marina’s spine started tingling once again. Nobody should blaspheme God that way.

“You think, if I don’t get saved, that I’m going to burn in a lake of fire, right?”

Marina nodded sadly. “Yes.”

“But what about the people in Africa? They don’t know anything about Jesus. Maybe they’d want to get saved, but don’t have the chance. He’s gonna send them to a burning lake of fire too?”

“Um … ” To tell the truth, that had always bothered Marina.

“But you say he loves everyone. Well, if he loved everyone, then he’d give those people a chance. So the only thing I can think is that he doesn’t love everyone. The God I learn about on Sunday doesn’t do that to people.”

Marina didn’t say anything because, while she didn’t understand Dot’s doctrine, she couldn’t refute her own. She’d asked Father the same thing and he’d droned on about something she really didn’t understand, then preached it that Sunday in a way that confused her even more.

“Do you have your skit ready for the talent show next week?” Marina asked, to shoo away her confusion.

“Still practicing. Do you have my dress ready?”

“I’ll bring it over tomorrow so we can fit it.”

The waitress interrupted them for their order, which was the usual, without onion rings this time because neither of them was hungry and Marina had to get home—

“Ladies.”

Marina and Dot both jumped, startled, and looked up. There was Mr. Dunham, as dapper and fashionable as he had been the day before in an ivory single-breasted suit coat over a tan vest and white shirt, white-polka-dot navy tie, and navy-and-white two-tone Oxford shoes. He had his tan fedora in his hand and his longish, slightly curly golden-blond hair was tousled.

“Uh, hi,” Marina said breathlessly as she slid over to make room for him. She took a quick peek at Dot, who was busy rummaging in her bag for probably nothing. “I … didn’t think you’d really come.”

The corner of his mouth tilted up the tiniest bit. “I come when and where I want to.” He glanced across the table. “Hello, Miss Albright.”

“Hi,” she tossed back, her voice muffled in her bag.

“Lime rickey,” he said to the waitress, who gave him the once-over once again, which made Marina nervous. She was much prettier than Marina, so it really wasn’t difficult to believe that Mr. Dunham was sitting here for some other reason than a simple desire to get to know Marina. “Miss Scarritt,” he began.

“Oh, Marina, please,” she said quickly.

“Thank you. Trey, to you.”

“All right. Trey,” she said, trying the word on for size.

“Your father has revival this week, doesn’t he?”

She wasn’t surprised he’d figured out that she was Reverend Scarritt’s daughter. There were bills posted all over town. “Yes. Do you want to come?”

“Very much. If you don’t mind my inviting myself.”

“Oh no! Father would love to meet you.”

Dot coughed into her hand and Marina cast a glare across the table.

“I see Miss Albright doesn’t agree,” Trey said, shocking both of them because no one was that forthright. It might be considered rude if he hadn’t said it in such an unsure manner.

“Well,” Dot began, taking up the challenge as she always did, “you’re twenty-four. We’re sixteen. Reverend Scarritt might not think it’s seemly for you to be courting Marina. If that’s your intention.”

He grimaced just a little and Marina’s heart sank so far down she thought she might be sick. “I would like to get to know Marina better,” he told Dot matter-of-factly, “but only with her father’s permission, which I can’t ask for if I don’t meet him.” He looked at Marina. “I don’t hold with sneaking out at night, running around, being disobedient and disrespectful to one’s parents.”

Marina’s bottom lip was open in shock. “But we just met yesterday!”

“Marina, I’m twenty-four, as Miss Albright pointed out. I’m a busy man and I don’t have time to talk to girls I don’t want to get to know better. We may or may not get along eventually, but I can’t find out unless we spend time together and I won’t spend time with you behind your parents’ backs. Meeting here for after-school sodas and homework is just fine for a couple more days but after that it’s just another form of sneaking.”

“Oh,” she squeaked.

“It would be nice if I also had Miss Albright’s permission, but I’m willing to try to earn it if she’ll let me.”

“Hrmph. If Marina wants you here, I’m not going to drive you away.”

“I appreciate that.” Their drinks came and after the waitress had left, he said, “No onion rings? Homework?”

“Revival,” Marina said. “I was late yesterday because we missed the bus and it embarrassed my mother.”

His brow wrinkled. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. May I take you and Miss Albright home? Since I was planning to attend anyway?”

“Oh, that would be lovely,” Marina gushed. “Dot’s coming tonight, too. She always comes with me on Wednesdays.”

Trey’s eyebrow rose and he looked across the table, then back at Marina. “You don’t attend the same church?”

“No,” Dot snapped. “I’m a Mormon.”

Marina sighed. She said that as defiantly as she ever said it to anybody. She was automatically hostile the second religion was brought up, just daring somebody to shoot her.

“Oh,” he replied, surprised. “And your parents allow you to go to a Pentecostal church?”

“My parents trust me not to get sucked in.”

“Dot!” Marina cried, hurt.

Dot had the grace to look abashed, but Trey was chuckling. “I see.” He pulled his watch out. “Well, drink up, ladies,” he said, sliding it back in its pocket. “Don’t want to be late and embarrass Marina’s mother.”

4

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