Mama was a Preacher Chapter Three Little Rock Copyright 1996 AUTHOR22@aol.com All rights reserved.
Although Jackie had told Mama that we would spend the night with the Osbornes, that is not what we did. Jerry's emotional departure was almost like the "fade out" at the end of a movie.
We drove back toward Clinton. "Well, it's less than a hundred miles from here to Little Rock, so why don't we get a motel for the night? And then we can join up with the Gregory's tomorrow as we had planned."
I had never been in a motel. The only one that I had ever seen was the old Blue Bell in Clinton, and that sure wasn't much. Jackie said that the one we would stay at tonight even had a swimming pool.
Apparently he had been there before. The lady at the registration desk welcomed him by name.
The "Inn" as it was known was an "Indoor/Outdoor" affair. The rooms were part of a three story "L" shaped structure. The Inner walls of the "L" supported two sides of a glass enclosure that was totally protected from the outside weather. This giant courtyard contained a swimming pool, miniature golf court, and cafe.
Our room was on the third floor overlooking the pool. The bathroom had a separate tub and shower. The bed was so large that Jerry, Jackie, and me all could have slept together without touching.
"You hungry?"
I was famished.
The "outdoor" Cafe in the court yard overlooked a landscaped garden, featuring outside tables with umbrellas. The waiter was about Jackie's size and age. He also seemed to know him. They laughed and kidded around for a while before we got around to ordering. The menu had at least eight different kinds of hamburgers, but before I could decide what I wanted Jackie suggested we have an Italian dinner with Lasagna.
The Lasagna was another first. It was cut like a piece of cake, and was made up of layers of a wide noodle, rich hamburger and tomato and several kinds of cheese; one smelled more like used foot powder than anything else I could think of. Once I got my nose past the smell, the flavor was outstanding. Jackie laughed when I told him what I thought about the odor of the Parmesan Cheese.
As we ate we talked about me and what I wanted out of life. He repeated what he had told Jerry and me about my having talent and being a natural born performer. He again brought up that little thing I had unknowingly done during "Daddy Sang Bass". He wanted to talk to the Gregory's and to mama about becoming part of our "Revival Meeting." However he wanted me to know that the reason, which was to remain a secret between just the two of us, was that he wanted to devote his time to training me to be the best singer, and maybe even "preacher" on the gospel circuit.
Those reasons, at age thirteen, didn't really make an impression. But I liked Jackie and his interest in me felt nice. Especially nice since I had just lost my best friend.
We went to our room after dinner. "Want to go for a swim?"
I explained that I didn't have a swim suit, but he said that he always carried a couple of extra pairs in the car ... just in case.
When he got back with the extra swimming trunks I was really surprised. First they were small enough for me. My waist was only twenty six inches. Second, they were of a style I had never seen. They looked like underwear. He said not to worry as they would look great.
While I was still inspecting the new trunks Jackie was taking off his clothes. I had never seen him naked before, and I was curious. He didn't seem to be embarrassed that I was watching him.
He had removed his shoes, and socks. He raised his T-shirt over his head exposing his smooth, firm stomach, and chest. When the shirt was clear of his head, he met my gaze with a gentle smile. Next, he released the top of his pants, unzipped them, and slid them to his ankles; then kicked them free. He was not wearing underwear. His dick was larger than Jerry's, and it was surrounded by quite a bit of hair.
My eyes were glued to his crotch.
"Well come on, get into those trunks so we can get going."
This time the tables were reversed. Jackie's eyes did not leave my body as I stripped. Unlike Jackie, my dick began to get stiff as his gaze moved down the length of my body, and was absolutely rigid by the time I tried to slide the tiny swim suit over my buttocks.
He laughed, reached over and flicked the head with his finger. The sharp tap caused my little one to collapse.
He was out of the room before I had them fully on. "Close the door."
I raced past him and had jumped into the pool before he was off the stairs.
Not to be outdone by a thirteen year old, he dove into the pool, and had me by the feet before I had even gotten the water out of my eyes. He tugged down. I leapt up, gulping a lung full of air, then doubled back down on him, approaching him from the rear. My fingers grabbed the waist of his trunks and I jerked them downward, exposing his buttocks. But, just as rapidly he reversed the situation and I found my trunks around my ankles.
I came up for air, trying to pull my swim suit over my butt. A gush of water struck me in the face. I dove down, kicking my feet as hard as I could, hoping to splash as much water in his face as he had in mine.
I looked up toward the surface attempting to find my quarry. He was no where above me. I looked below me. Still no Jackie. Before I could spin around he had me in a tight hold. I found my crotch resting on his elbow, his arm extending upward toward my chest. My feet found his knees. A sudden push and I was clear as I was propelled toward the side of the pool. It was only then that I realized he had been holding on to my swimming trunks, as in horror I looked down and found myself absolutely naked.
Before I could take any action he was along side of me, my trunks in his hand, his body shielding mine from public view.
He put his arms under my shoulders, supporting me as I slipped the suit over my legs. I could feel the beat of his heart against my chest. Our faces were just a few inches apart as I looked up into his eyes. He laughed, and attempted to dunk me. However, I was faster, and slithered downward out of his embrace then sprinted across the pool into the shallow end.
We played tag, and wrestled during the next hour. Eventually, I ran out of energy and we headed toward our room.
I switched from the swim trunks to my jockey shorts. Jackie was in the shower, so I crawled into the bed on the side closest to the bath room, and was asleep before he had climbed under the covers.
Sometime during the night I must have moved across the large bed, as when the sunlight woke me, I was snuggled against him on his side of the bed.
He was sleeping on his back. I peeked under the covers. He was naked and he had a stiffie. I slipped further down until my head was opposite his waist, my eyes glued to his penis. His breathing was deep and slow. Every time he inhaled his dick would bounce. After several minutes of watching I adventurously lifted the sheet slightly putting my hand between the sheet and his bouncing head. Each time it throbbed it left a spot of wetness on my hand.
I was intrigued. Cautiously I let my hand cup the head, then my fingers began to massage the it. The head seemed to get both larger and wetter. Unexpectedly I felt his hand on my shoulder; he was awake. He neither encouraged or discouraged me from my curiosity. Instead, his hand was warm and loving. Boldly I moved my hand all the way from the head, down the length of his shaft till it rested in his pubic hair. As I moved my hand back up the shaft it got stiffer and hotter. Suddenly he let out a big sigh as his penis propelled massive amounts of cum over my hand.
He laid there for a moment, and said, "That was nice. Thanks," then rolled out of bed and took a shower.
I was still laying there with his slippery stuff over my hand. My own little cock was very stiff. I put my wet hand over my own organ and began massaging it. As I did so that same feeling that Jerry had caused began to generate deep within me, continuing to spiral upward until that same crescendo was replicated.
My hand was grasping my tiny pole as Jackie came out of the shower still drying himself with a towel. He paused for just a moment, then said, "Looks like you need a shower too."
Somewhat reluctantly I moved out of bed, his wetness and my own spread around the crotch of my jockeys. I slipped the undershorts from my body, my little instrument still enlarged and glistening, then kicked them from my ankles. As I moved toward the shower, he picked them up and put them to his nose. "I think Jerry was wrong... You can cum."
I blushed from head to toe as I sped into the shower.
We checked out of the motel and drove to the address on Cottondale where the tent was to be erected. The motel was close to downtown Little Rock while the site for the Revival was on the west side. Even though Jackie was familiar with Little Rock, he didn't know where Cottondale was located, so I acted as navigator, looking closely at the road map, and guiding back along the highway we had traveled yesterday evening. It intersected Cantrell. We made a right, drove about a mile, found Road R, turned right again and soon saw the Gregory's bus and our trailer parked to the left on a side road.
Slightly beyond the vacant lot was a radio tower and a small building whose sign announced this was KLRA Radio.
Everyone was already awake and had started unloading the bus. Jackie and I pitched right in moving the tent bundles into their proper places.
It was just before noon when a pickup truck turned into our lot, and disgorged three husky teenagers and their Pa. They were from the local Assembly of God church and had been sent to help assemble the tent.
Steven was the oldest brother at 19. His hair was a golden brown. His weight must have been about 170 pounds, and it was all muscle. He wore a pair of bib type overalls that were too tight in the chest, and too baggy in the butt.
Next was Peter at just 17. His hair was lighter than Steven's, and longer as well. Although close to the same height as his brother, his build was not as filled out. He was wearing Levi's which were well worn with numerous large white areas, mostly around a somewhat bulging crotch, and snug seat.
The youngest was Jimbo, age 14. His hair was very dark, almost black. He was about my size and weight, although his legs were more in proportion to his body than were mine. He also was wearing Levi's that were obviously handed down as they were too tight, and almost totally white from wear. Jimbo and I bonded almost immediately.
Joshua Hay was the father's name. He was tall and stringy. Although he was obviously strong, he lacked the "beefy" look sported by his eldest son.
Jimbo, Jackie and I constituted one of the hoisting teams, while Peter and his father became another, leaving Steven and Reverend Gregory as the third.
Ruth assumed the role of coordinator, deploying the three teams in the most efficient manor to first hoist the poles, pound in the stakes, and finally raise the top.
By sunset everything was in readiness. The saw dust had been spread, the electricity connected, and portable "potties" placed at the very edge of the lot.
Getting the piano on the platform had almost been a disaster as the rental company delivered a Baby Grand instead of an upright.
Ray was upset as he felt it would become the center point of attention. Jackie immediately began to play something. The sound was quite beautiful. It also seemed louder than the upright. His playing took on a totally different character as he played "What A Friend We Have in Jesus". It was more compelling; less rough hewn, more spiritual.
Mr. Hay suggested we all come home with him for dinner. We eagerly accepted.
Their farm was 10 miles further west. Jackie drove, with Mama sitting in the passenger seat and the Gregorys in the rumble. I hopped in the back of the truck and rode with Jimbo and his brothers.
The house was much smaller than either the Osborne's or the Holbron's, but nicer. The kitchen was large and seemed to merge into the living room. It had three bedrooms.
Jimbo took me back toward the barn. He had his own room which had been built in the loft. It was tiny, not more than six feet wide and eight feet long. His bed was a mattress almost the size of the room and placed directly on the floor. There was no light fixture, only an oil lamp on a wooden crate. On one wall was a picture of a naked lady "from Esquire Magazine".
He saw that the picture had caught my attention. "Mom never comes up here, so dad said it's OK." He paused, then almost in a whisper, "Gawd I'd like to put my peter in there."
Our contemplation was interrupted by Steven who stuck his head in the door delivering a modified message from his mother. "Ma says come on in for dinner, so you kids put your peckers back in your pants and come on."
I turned red as a beet. That had been too close to the truth. However Jimbo responded, "Ha! I saw you pounding yours this morning, so don't give me any of your crap."
"Next time I'll shoot in your eye, you little fucker."
It was all said in jest, but I was astounded at the openness with which these brothers talked about sex. Jerry and Jackie were the only two I had ever talked to about such things. And Mama wasn't about to tell me anything; with her that was a closed subject.
Mrs. Hay had prepared fried chicken, with mash potatoes, gravy, and biscuits. There was also lots of milk fresh from their own cow, and homemade blackberry jam. Jackie and I had skipped breakfast, so we were both famished. The Hay's must have thought that we were starving preachers of the gospel.
People were already parked in our lot when we returned to the tent. Mr. Hay threw a big switch on the electric pole illuminating the interior.
Within 15 minutes more than half of the seats were taken. Mr. and Mrs. Hay were seated in the front row, but Jimbo, Peter, and Steven were in the last row, close to the entrance.
Jackie began playing the piano while Mama and the Gregory's were still getting ready in the bus. "Do you want to try 'Daddy Sings Bass'?".
"No way."
"Come on. Just the first verse and chorus."
Finally, I nodded, "Ok."
Jackie had already used the chorus as a lead in.
My high voice began, "I remember when I was a lad, times were hard and things were bad; but there's a silver lining behind every cloud. Just poor people that's all, we were try'n to make a livin' out of black land dirt; We'd get together in a family circle singin' loud."
Everyone had stopped talking and were listening to my solo.
Then I started into the chorus, "Daddy sang bass, Mama sang tenor." It was here that Jackie did his key change and I leaned forward and jumped backward, it was almost an automatic impulse, "Me and little brother would join right in there; Singing seems to help a troubled soul." I could feel something coming from the audience. It was very positive. I could sense that their enjoyment had gone beyond the ordinary. For just a moment they had felt that same impulse, and were inspired by its fulfillment. "One of these days and it won't be long; I'll rejoin them in a song; I'm gonna join the family circle at the throne. No, the circle won't be broken. Bye and bye, Lord, bye and bye. Daddy'll sing bass, Mama'll sing tenor, me and little brother will join right in there in the sky, Lord in the sky."
Later Jackie explained that this was a very important happening. It was the first step in truly mass communication. It was a moment during which an entire concept had been bi-directionally transmitted. That communication started with the song, transmitted by me, enhanced by the audience, and transmitted back to me. Eventually he would teach me how to recognize the occurrence, seize upon it, and use it to build a memorable thing.
Ruth was the first to return from the bus and mounted the platform. I sat next to Jackie as she began the planned singing. The transition worked very well, as that sparkle still existed and the people had already become part of the music. We had advanced to what Jackie called "Level Three".
Looking back, I realize that the Gregorys had developed their abilities as Evangelists by trial and error, while Jackie understood the psychological aspects of their efforts. Like a teacher, he possessed the knowledge to design a career, and the tools to implement an effective curriculum.
I am sure that the Gregorys believed what they preached, while I am equally certain that Jackie understood only the technology. The Reverend Gregory was a man of God. Jackie was a teacher; a trainer; a showman. But who is to say whether Jackie was under the hand of God. I know Jackie would never admit that it was God's hand that guided him. But then one first needs to define God. In the end the results were the same.
That night's revival services were very good. The power was there. The congregation became an integral part of the services. The "Call for Sinners" had the altar crowded with praying, weeping people. We were all drained of energy as the meeting came to a close; drained, with a glowing feeling of fulfillment.
Jimbo sought me out and asked if I'd like to come home with them for the night. Mama and Jackie were talking when I asked, and Jackie said he thought it was a good idea as he had a lot to talk to mama about.
I grabbed Jerry's comforter and hopped into the back of the Hay's pickup truck.
The night had turned cool so Jimbo, his brothers and I all drew close together under the comforter. I was sitting between Jimbo and Peter. The closeness, the warmth, and the smell of Peter's sweat drove deep inside of me, and to my surprise caused my little cock to get very stiff. Both Peter and Jimbo had their arms around my waist, hugging me to them.
I put my hands on each of their upper legs, returning the hugging. My left hand encountered a sizable, hot, throbbing bulge laying along Peter's leg. Quickly I lowered my hand to his knee, where upon he placed his hand over mine, drawing it back to the site of the encounter.
I was intrigued, and yet frightened, by the warmth of his member. It was almost as though it had a life of its own. I was drawn to it with the same feelings of compulsion that I had felt when I had peeked under the blankets this morning and watched Jackie's cock bouncing against the sheet. I wanted to touch the hot skin. If there had been a hole in his jeans I would have put my hand in there and experienced direct contact with the warm, hard, pulsing, velvety shaft.
His hand remained over mine, squeezing my fingers together on to his shaft. He released my hand and moved his over my waist, trying to locate my small member. It was shouting "Here. Here. Here I am." But before he could home in on his target, the truck turned into their drive way. We parked in the back between the house and the barn.
"There is hot chocolate and cake in the kitchen... and then it's off to bed with you." We followed Mrs. Hay into the kitchen and sat at the table while she heated the milk and cut the cake.
Being part of the Revival Meeting always left me tired. Jimbo, on the other hand was full of energy, and not in the least sleepy. We had climbed the ladder to the loft of the barn. Within minutes we were snuggled under his big blanket. I had Jerry's comforter which I threw on top of Jimbo's.
"Ever slept naked?" he asked.
"Yeah, it's nice."
He began to remove his T-shirt and underpants. I did likewise. We moved toward each other, coming in full contact in the middle of his mattress. I was next to the door with him facing me. "Ever seen a naked girl?" he asked.
"No, but I'd sure like to."
"Our neighbors have six girls, and the oldest one will show you anything you want to see.
My imagination went wild. A naked female. Wow! "How do you know?"
"Peter told me. The other day he was over there and she just plain asked him if he would like to see her pussy. When he said yes, she made him show her his dick. She even put her hands on it. But Peter said that when he tried to put a finger in her pussy she slapped him and pushed him away."
I could feel Jimbo stroking his dick beneath the covers. I was on my back, and as he stroked his fist would bang against my hip. "Don't you ever jack off?" he asked.
"I don't know. What's jacking off."
"That's what I am doing, look under the covers and you can see."
I stuck my head under the covers. Most of the light from the oil lamp was filtered away. "Can't see anything."
"Just keep looking, your eyes will adjust."
And so they did. I could see his fist moving up and down his shaft. "Oh, is that what you call it. Yeah, I did that this morning. It really felt good."
"Well come on, let's do it together".
As we stroked we fell into synchronism.
"Here you do mine, and I'll do yours." Jimbo reached over replacing my hand with his and began stroking.
"Oh, that feels good." I placed my hand around his cock and we again fell into synchronism.
He was still facing toward me when I felt a splash of warm liquid hit my thigh. While his hand on mine felt good, it wasn't generating that deep feeling I had felt when I had done this with Jackie's cum on my hand. And Jimbo's emission was too tiny to provide any lubricant.
Within seconds of his having cum, he relaxed and let loose of mine. Then he turned over on his other side facing the wall. Soon we were both asleep.
Sometime much later I was awakened by a flashlight in my face. At first I thought it was Jimbo, but I could hear him breathing on the other side of me. I reached up, put my hand over the light, pushing it out of my eyes. It was Peter.
He turned off the light and put his hand under the blanket. Just the memory of his hard dick in the truck got mine very rigid. When his hand found the target, it was standing straight out. After stroking me a couple of times, he grasped my hand, pulling me out of the bed.
He led me to the ladder, and we climbed down to the ground. Still, silently he guided me out back where there was a wagon full of loose hay.
I was still naked. Peter was wearing just his shorts, which he removed. Then he laid down next to me, his throbbing cock literally dripping moisture onto my tummy. He got up and sat on my stomach facing me. His organ began making a pool of warm liquid. His fingers dipped into the pool. Then reaching behind him, he rubbed the moisture over my cock head. The feeling was incredible, even better than Jackie's cum.
Peter raised himself a few inches, moved back and again sat down, my cock immediately sank into his hole. Then he began to rock back and forth. He motioned me to stroke his cock. I put my fingers in the pool and then rubbed that on his dick. He slowly began moving up and down. The up part left just the tip of my cock head being grasped by his sphincter. The down part felt incredible as I was buried so deeply that I could feel his balls pressed against my abdomen.
His penis was still dripping large amount of liquid. His pace increased, but the length and depth of his movement was still full and complete.
That deep feeling began to generated. It started as before with what at first felt like a tickle far down inside of me, working its way up. Then that trigger happened, it felt as though a rubber band had been released, or the string of a bow had let the arrow fly, and at the same time his own prick stood very rigid, and propelled several drops of cum hitting me on the lips.
My little cock was still buried when he leaned over, put his lips to mine, stuck his tongue in my mouth, then whispered. "Wow, that was good".
After putting his shorts back on we walked back to the barn. After seeing me climb up the ladder he disappeared in the direction of the house.
Jimbo was still soundly asleep as I crawled in next to him, wondering what Peter had enjoyed so much.
An arrogant rooster woke me at just a little past six. Jimbo yawned and stretched. "Gotta take a piss." He pulled on his undershorts and pants, tucking his little stiffy inside pointing up. "Where did you go last night?"
I thought my absence had gone undetected. "Just had to take a leak."
The question was answered, the subject was now a thing of the past.
The other two boys were already in the kitchen when we entered the house; neither were wearing anything other than their jockey shorts. Steven asked if I'd slept well, and Peter gave me a big smile and a wink.
"John, what would you like for breakfast." Jimbo looked surprised at Peter's interest in anyone other than himself.
"I don't know. I guess what ever you are having."
"Then you are in for a treat. I'm going to make me an Omelet. Raisin toast, and bacon."
"What's with you shit head".
"Steven, don't use that kind of language." Mr. Hay came into the kitchen.
"Peter is acting weird. I've never seen him cook his own breakfast much less anyone else's."
"He is finally growing up and showing some good manners. Which is, more than I can say for the rest of you."
Jimbo and I were the only ones at the table who were wearing pants, and I felt over dressed.
Peter brought two plates to the table putting one in front of me. "Milk or coffee?"
The other plate he put on the other side of the table facing me.
All of the others were busy eating their breakfast, faces buried in their plates.
"Hey Peter, that Omelet is really good."
He looked up from his plate, smiled, and said, "Thanks. Just thought you might like something special to remember us by." As he said that I felt his bare foot caressing my ankle. My cock immediately responded. I dropped my fork. Reaching down to retrieve it I saw Peter, and his cock was very stiff, pushing his shorts away from his body, creating a sizable tent. He winked at me as I continued to eat my omelet.
The sound of a car foretold the arrival of Jackie. The Hays had intended to drive me to the revival tent. Jackies arrival was unexpect ed.
The entire family gave me hugs and squeezes. They were disappointed to see me leave. All of the boys had chores to do. They promised to be at tonights meeting.
On the way back to Cottendale Jackie told me that he had a long talk with Mama and the Gregorys. I was the subject of the talk. Soon I would be fourteen, and school would be a problem while traveling the gospel circuit. Theater people were in the same situation. They resolved it by providing a tutor. Jackie had offered to become my teach er as well as playing piano for the services. He would go to the Arkansas Board of Education and find out what would be required; what would be expected. The Gregory's only concern was whether or not there would be enough support for five people; there had been times when there was not enough for the two of them. Now it had grown to five. Mama pointed out that the collections had more than doubled since we had joined. So it was probable that Jackies presence would more than pay for itself. Finally, it was agreed that Jackie would leave his car with his Grandmother in Memphis, and travel with Mama and me. If there was not enough support, then Jackie would return to Memphis.
It was after two in the afternoon. I was alone trying to pick something out on the piano, one finger at a time. Jackie was at the Board of Education. Mama and Ruth had gone grocery shopping, and Ray was preparing his sermon for tonights service.
A tall, lanky fellow wearing brown slacks, white shirt, and a sport coat came into the tent. "Is Steven Hay here?"
I looked surprised. "No, but the Hays should be here for this evenings meeting."
"I think he'll be here before that. I talked with him this morning. My name is Harry Wiser. My dad owns the radio station next door."
Harry turned and started to walk away, then turned again "Tell him that I was here. I've got the four to eight shift at the station. He should come over."
"Mind if I come with him? I'd like to see the station."
"You are welcome, but why don't you let me give you a tour right now. It's more than an hour before I have to start work."
Even though Harry was only 18, he looked older. He didn't have that outdoor youthful appearance that ear marked the Hays as being farm boys. He and Steven had attended the same high school. Both of the boys shared an interest in science and electronics. He had been an amateur radio operator for more than four years.
The entire station was housed in the small building less than 100 yards from our tent. The front door opened into a tiny office with only one desk, and a file cabinet. An old underwood typewriter sat at a movable table. The chair was comfortable looking, but well worn. The wall behind the desk had a glass window through which you could see someone at a control board, talking into a microphone. Beyond that was another window through which you could see the KLRA transmitter.
Unlike KWHN, KLRA had no studio, and seemed to have only one microphone and two record players. A door to the far left of the desk was the only access for the man at the control board. The only "On The Air" sign was made of cardboard, thumb tacked to the door. The hand lettering read: "QUIET! Probably ON THE AIR."
Harry put his finger to his lips signaling me to be silent. He pulled the door open and ushered me inside.
The man behind the control board was reading the news from the Arkansas Gazette. After reading something about hog futures, he shifted his attention to a sheet of paper in a loose leaf binder, and read a commercial.
He reached over to one of the two turntables, and in rapid succession hit three switches turning on one of the record players, connecting the pickup to the audio board, and turning off the microphone.
"Harry, glad you are here already. I'm supposed to go see Morgan White at the Funeral Home. He want's to start a new advertising campaign."
I was introduced to Harry Wiser, Senior.
"The transcription for The Old Time Gospel Hour is already on the table and is scheduled for three o'clock. There won't be any commercials as they paid for the whole hour. Wish we could get more clients like that." His dad was already out of his chair, and on his way out of the room.
Junior pointed at a corner chair, and suggested I pull it up next to his at the console. "Sorry to cut the tour short, but you've seen all there is to see. But why don't you stick around, I'd like the company."
As the recording came to an end he signaled me to be quite, hit two switches on the console and began reading the next page in the loose leaf binder. "And now from the world tabernacle, The Reverend Fuller and The Old Time Gospel Hour." His left hand switched on the turntable, the 16 inch disk began to rotate, another switch and the Old Time Gospel Hour was on the air.
"KLRA is a family business. Dad is owner, station manager, program director, and sales manager. I'm chief engineer, and Disk Jockey. Mother works the board from 8PM till we go off the air at midnight. Then all three of us have breakfast 'On the Air' after the early morning news at six."
Harry was looking through a stack of records, creating three separate groups. "One of the problems we have is that all the record companies send us free records, hoping we will play them. Most of the time we select them by title, never having auditioned them. Of course the ones that our listeners like we set aside and play them more frequently. But we do get some real dogs. Why don't you look through that stack and see if there is anything that appeals to you."
By the time the transcription had come to an end, we had created three piles of records: the ones that appealed to me, the ones that appealed to Harry, and the 'Bow Wows' as he called them.
"Television has just about killed night time radio, so Dad let's me do pretty much what I want between five and eight. Daytime is still a pretty hot item; housewives, people driving in their cars. Mother's program is local current events, we figure that our local audience will abandon the TV in favor of listening to themselves or their neighbors on the air."
He put his finger to his lips, reached over to the console and switched on the microphone. "We have a new recording from one of my favorite gospel groups. The Hamlen Brother and 'Heaven Came Down and Glory Filled my Soul."
Harry caught the odd expression on my face. "What's up?"
"The Hamlen Brother's pianist is our pianist and my teacher."
"Far out. Think he would come over and talk to me on the air?"
"I don't see why not. He's at the Little Rock Board of Education trying to find out what he needs to be my traveling tutor."
Harry asked me to go back to our tent and wait for Jackie.
At the piano I continued trying to pick something out, one finger at a time. Mama came in looking for a hymnal. I told her about being next door at the Radio Station and that they wanted to talk to Jackie on the air. She started to leave, but then turned back to me. "Be sure and have Jackie talk to Ray before he goes next door."
Mother had hardly left the tent when I heard Jackie's coupe turn into our lot.
"Hey Jackie," I waved at him as I approached the car. "Two things. First, Steven Hay's buddy works at the Radio Station," I pointed towards the KLRA tower. "I told him that you were the pianist for the Hamlen Brothers, and he would like to talk to you on the radio. Then Mama said you should talk to Ray before going over there. When you are ready let me know and I'll go with you."
He walked toward the bus. Knocked on the door. Paused a moment, and then entered. I returned to the tent.
Ruth had a pile of different hymnals which she kept in a box next to the piano. I looked through them trying to find that song Harry had played on the radio.
The song was in the fifth book. I put it on the piano and began to poke at the keyboard trying to pick out the melody. The score had three of those dumb flat symbols which made the music sheet useless. I didn't hear Jackie come up behind me. My attention was focused on the paper.
"It goes like this sport." Jackie had returned; his fingers brought life to the keys on the right side of the keyboard. "Move over."
He sat down, and started from the beginning. "Come on, let's do the first verse. 'O what a wonderful, wonderful day." His voice while well modulated lacked timbre.
My voice sought the same note as his, and as I sang, "I will never forget; After I'd wandered," he shifted his tone down 2 notes, creating an unexpected, and rather exciting harmony. I broke from the lyrics, "Wow! I really like that. Can we take it from the top."
"How soon are the people at the radio station expecting us?"
"Harry asked me to bring you over as soon as you returned."
"We'll play with the song when we come back."
"What did Ray want to talk to you about?"
"He asked about what I had learned at the Board of Education. But I think the main thing he wanted was to try and get a plug on the radio."
As I opened KLRA's front door we could see Harry leaning into the microphone reading something from the loose leaf binder. I pointed to the "Quite! Probably on the Air" Sign, and watched him switch off the mic before opening the door into the control room. "Hey Harry, this is Jackie Marshall."
They shook hands. "John, drag in that chair from the office."
We sat on either side of Harry. For the next hour he alternated between playing an album of Hamlen Brothers Gospel Music and talking with Jackie and me. Jackie told of some funny happenings that the brothers had encountered while performing. Then he guided the conversation to what he was doing now; the revival meetings.
Quite unexpectedly Jackie explained that he was concentrating on training me. Harry asked what we were currently working on. The reply mentioned three things: "Daddy Sang Bass", "Heaven Came down and Glory Filled my Soul", and "Softly and Tenderly Jesus is Calling," a capella solo.
This was pretty much news to me. The capella solo had never been a solo, it was a duet between Jerry and me. "Heaven Came down" we were PLANNING on doing something with. Only "Daddy Sang Bass" had we ever really worked on.
Harry asked that in as much as there was no piano in the control room, "Would you sing 'Softly and Tenderly."
I really didn't want to, but they had put me in a corner by asking me "On the Air"; I couldn't refuse.
Harry swung the microphone toward me. I took a deep breath, and sustained B above middle C and held it for the entire measure. Again a deep breath, and I sustained the D above middle C, and held it for the entire measure. Then during the next measure I shifted rapidly from D, to F Sharp, and down to E. For the next measure it was again D, F, and E.
Jackie motioned for me to be silent for the next measure. Then, almost as though he were conducting an orchestra he paced me through the lyrics. "Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling." As I started the word "calling" he put the fingers of his two hands together pulling them apart in a stretching motion, elongating the phrase. The second "calling" in the verse was of normal length.
Altogether that hymn has 66 measures, and it seemed like a lifetime, as he lead me through the entire piece.
"Outstanding!" was Harry's response. "Are you going to do either of the other two songs at tonights meeting?"
Jackie said, "Probably".
After we had finished the interview, Harry said he'd like to run a microphone line into our tent. Then if he heard something he thought his audience would like, he'd simply switch to that microphone. He could signal us that we were on the air by turning the light on in the transmitter room.
When we got back to the tent, Jackie sought out Ray to tell him about "KLRA's Remote Broadcast" then returned so we could practise on both "Daddy Sang Bass", and "Heaven Came Down".
While we were working at the piano Steve Hay came into the tent carrying a microphone stand and a reel of cable. Then rolled up one of the tent side pieces so that there was a direct view of the KLRA building.
Everything was in readiness as the seven o'clock hour approached. Even though this was a week day, more than half of the seats were occupied. Ruth stepped to the front of the platform to start the singing.
She started with "Little Church in the Wildwood." She had glanced to her right, seemed surprised, and drew Jackie's attention to the KLRA building; the Transmitter Room light was on.
The light remained on during the next two songs. Jackie motioned for Peter Hay to come over to the piano. "Go next door and tell Harry they forgot to turn out the light in the Transmitter Room." Then he added. "That light was to be used to signal us that we were on the air."
Peter was back within 5 minutes. "Harry said to tell you it isn't a mistake. The PTA meeting that Mrs. Wiser was to air tonight fell through. Something about the transcription turning out bad. Anyway, unless you folks object, their going to carry the entire service."
Jackie told Peter to repeat that message to the Reverend Gregory.
AND EVERYTHING CHANGED!
Before the services were half over the tent was packed. Then cars started to arrive, and park in our lot. The passengers remained in their vehicles watching the services while listening to the broadcast on their car radios.
Ray asked Mr. Hay to organize "collections" so the occupants of the cars would have the opportunity to be part of the services.
Ray's sermon was more dynamic than any I had here-to-for experienced.
The excitement went beyond the novelty of being on the radio, as it captured every person in the audience, even those sitting in their automobiles. It was ELECTRIC.
It was close to midnight when every one had left. We were too drained to even attempt to clean up or count the collections.
The sleeping arrangements had to be changed, as mother usually slept in the big bed in the back of our trailer, while I slept up front on the converted couch. Now that Jackie was living with us he and I shared the big bed, and Mama slept on the couch.
She was already asleep as we entered the trailer. We took turns showering, and then hopped into bed. During the night I had drifted across the bed, and awoke snuggled in Jackie's arms.
"John." It was mama's voice coming through the bedroom door. "Sister Ruth wants me over at the bus. You can sleep in a little longer, but when you do get up, both you and Jackie come join us." The outside door closed. I snuggled closer to Jackie.
His dick was just where Jerry had kept his: between my legs, the head resting against my scrotum.
Mother's voice had not awakened him. So boldly, I lowered my shorts to my ankles, replacing his pole where it had been. I squeezed my legs together imprisoning him between my thighs.
Still there was no awakening sounds. Daringly, I began rocking back and forth, his member sliding even though it was gripped between my muscles. It seemed to be getting both warmer and larger. His arms were already around me. His biceps began to squeeze my chest, as his hips mimicked my motions. His right hand moved down the length of my body till it touched my own little rod. Hastily his hand moved below my throbbing member, cupping the head of his own, capturing his own juices. Just a moment went by as we laid there in full contact from head to toe. He moved his hand back to my waiting rod now slippery with his own substance. His hips now moved against my buttocks, pushing my cock into his hand. Our combined motions, the thought of my cock being immersed in his substance, the feeling of warmth and slipperiness quickly brought me to that point of no return. My muscles tightened, my abdomen spasmed, and then I relaxed sinking back into the warm, loving arms for my mentor.
"That's the second time you've woke me that way. You'd better take a shower. I've left quite a mess between your legs."
"Mama said we should join them as soon as we are dressed."
"Brother Jack! The Lord has blessed us beyond measure," were the first words spoken by Reverend Gregory. "Absolutely beyond measure. God works in mysterious ways.
"Last nights turn out was far from what we had expected. And the way people kept driving in to our meeting, and listening to our service on the radio was astounding. Then this morning we counted the offerings from last night." He paused, breathing deeply, "Five times more than we have ever before received.
"And it all happened because the good Lord led you to the people at KLRA."
Mama and Ruth were both smiling from ear to ear. "Ray just got back from talking with Mr. Wiser. The gifts from last night were enough to pay for our broadcasting every service during our stay in Little Rock."
Mama added, "We need to organize our services. We are counting heavily on both of you boys for inspirational music. Sister Ruth will try to keep everything running smoothly. She will work with Brother Gregory, you two boys, and myself. If any of us have questions, we'll get the answers through Ruth. Brother Ray and I will preach on alternate days. I'll be giving tonight sermon, and here is a list of hymns I'd like you kids to practise."
Jackie took the list. "We'd better tidy up before we work on the music."
The area was a mess. Empty bottles, scraps of paper. Jackie had picked up something on a stick, and laughingly beckoned me to see what he had. It was a long white balloon like thing. There was a small amount of liquid on the inside.
"What's that?"
"Well, it's hard to believe but someone got lucky last night during the meeting."
"Why lucky?"
"Don't you know what this is?"
"No. I've never seen one. What's it for."
"If you are screwing a girl, you put one of these over your cock so you won't get her pregnant."
I looked a little closer. "If that's cum on the inside, the guy didn't do much. You made three or four times more than that this morning."
He slid the rubber thing into a paper bag along with the other liter we had collected.
Next we evened up the chairs.
Finally we were at the piano. "What do you want to do first?"
"Let's run through the list your mother gave us, then we can spend some time on the specialty numbers. I like what you did on the radio yesterday afternoon, how do you feel about it?"
"You mean 'Softly and Tenderly?"
"Yeah."
"Ok, I guess, as long as you're leading me with those hand signals."
We were almost half way through the list when Steven Hay came into the tent. "Have you seen Harry yet?"
We hadn't and told him so.
"Well, Harry and I have got an idea that will knock your socks off."
In unison we said, "Oh?"
"It was really Harry's idea so I'll wait for him before telling you." He turned toward me, "Your mom asked if we could add an extra 50 feet of microphone cable. Got any idea why?"
We didn't.
Steve left, and we continued with our rehearsal.
About two hours later Steve returned. He and Harry were carrying something that looked like a large suitcase. They sat it next to the piano, and removed the cover. It looked like a large record player, except that it had a screw 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 compos ers 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 some 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."
Ruth came 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 service 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 the 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 light off in the dark distance. "It looks further than it is."
"I don't think I've seen you around."
"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 up with 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 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.