The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Secrets, written in 2018, is my third novel. I'll post a chapter a day over the next few weeks.
Book Blurb
Fifteen year-old Matt Benson moves with Robert, his widowed father, to Boaz, Alabama for one year as Robert conducts research on Southern Baptist Fundamentalism. Robert, a professor of Bible History and new Testament Theology at the University of Chicago’s Divinity School enlists Matt to assist him as an undercover agent at First Baptist Church of Christ. Matt’s job is to befriend the most active young person in the Church’s youth group and learn the heart and mind of teenagers growing up as fundamentalist Southern Baptists.
Olivia Tillman is the fourteen year old daughter of Betty and Walter Tillman. He is the pastor of First Baptist Church of Christ. Robert and Matt move to Boaz in June 1970, and before high school begins in mid-August, Matt and Olivia become fast friends. Olivia’s life is centered around her faith, her family, and her friends. She is struck with Matt and his doubts and vows to win him to Christ. Over the next year, Matt and Olivia’s relationship blossoms into more than a teenage romance, despite their different religious beliefs.
June 1971 and Matt’s return to Chicago comes too quickly, but the two teenagers vow to never lose what they have, even promising to reunite at college in three years after Olivia graduates from Boaz High School.
The Boaz Secrets is told from the perspective of past and present. The story alternates between 1970-1971, and 2017-2018. After Matt left Boaz in June 1971, life happened and Olivia and Matt’s plans fell apart. However, in December 2017, their lives crossed again, almost miraculously, and they have a month in Boaz to catch up on forty-six years of being apart. They attempt to discover whether their teenage love can be rekindled and transformed into an adult romance even though Matt is 63 and Olivia is 61.
In 2017, Olivia and Matt are quick to learn they are vastly different people than they were as fifteen and sixteen year old teenagers– especially, when it comes to religion and faith. Will these religious differences unite them? The real issue is the secret Olivia has kept. Will Matt’s discovery destroy any chance he and Olivia have of rekindling their teenage relationship?
Chapter 27
April 1971
Normally, Spring Break is in March. This year, with the two big snows in January followed by three days of being out of school with each storm, the break had been initially pushed into early April. A week before the break would normally take place, the Marshall County Board of Education had voted to eliminate this year’s vacation. This didn’t set well all over Marshall County. Growing protests, by both parents and teachers, had persuaded the Board to reinstate the holiday. The Board finally acquiesced but delayed the break until the second week of April.
It was a week I will never forget. Pastor Walter and the other four fathers of the Flaming Five had taken their sons on a trip to the Northeast to watch three NBA games in the Eastern Conference playoffs. The New York Knicks and the Baltimore Bullets were playing the best of seven games, alternating between New York City and Baltimore, Maryland. Even before the Valentine’s dance this was a frequent topic at the table from hell, although the Flaming Five didn’t yet know which teams would make it that far. To them, all they needed to know at that time was they were going to see and learn, up close, how real basketball was played. The five young superstars had wanted to attend the NBA Western Conference vs. Eastern Conference playoffs, but those games had conflicted with the schedules of Pastor Walter and Raymond Radford, Randall’s father, and some important meetings in New Orleans and Dallas.
Pastor Walter’s absence left the care and management of Olivia to Betty, her mother. She was much more lenient with her daughter than Pastor Walter, although she didn’t have much opportunity to exercise any authority. Betty was, no doubt, the perfect Christian wife. Submissive, in all things, respectful, kind, and loving. Christ was head of the church and the man, the husband, was head of the household. So, it said in the Bible. So, Walter said in his home. The thing that helped swing the pendulum in my favor was, I think, the impression I had made on Betty. For some reason, she trusted me. I think it had a lot to do with what had happened at the Valentine’s dance. She saw me as almost a quasi-parent, with Olivia’s best interest at heart. Her protector from the dangers lurking all around. Also, I think Betty simply liked me. I realized this more during Spring Break than ever. It seemed Betty was starved for contact with any outsiders. I almost think, given the chance, she would have enjoyed talking to me about Chicago and my mother and my foreign beliefs, as Olivia often called them.
It wasn’t like Betty gave Olivia and me unlimited freedom. I picked up on her strategy almost from the beginning. Olivia had to always have a cover, meaning, she was given the permission to be doing something Pastor Walter would have approved. For example, spending time with Randi Bonds, at her house, just hanging out. It would have been too dangerous for Betty, an all-out violation of that submissive thing, for her to authorize Olivia and me to go to a movie, or to do something else so notoriously sinful for a 14-year-old girl to do with a 16-year-old boy. Even though it was less than a month until Olivia’s 15th birthday, rules were rules. Pastor Walter had said, according to Olivia, that she could start supervised dating when she turned 15. I think Olivia still doubted he would keep his promise. She anticipated something coming up, like ‘God has said for you to wait until you are 16.’
During the week that I will never forget, Olivia had set aside, or so it seemed to me, every thought about her father and her home life living under a virtual dictator. Using the ruse of being with Randi, Olivia and I spent every afternoon the entire week at Aurora Lake. I had heard of this tranquil body of water sitting at the table from hell. Olivia had been there a few times on family picnics. We were fortunate the weather was perfect. Cool mornings and warm afternoons. We had wanted to ride our bicycles every day but realized that was too dangerous. We almost opted for me to drive us in my Corvair but again realized this too was a thin-iced plan. There were simply too many local eyes loyal to Pastor Tillman. We couldn’t risk being seen. We knew word would get back to Olivia’s father, and he wouldn’t be happy. Randi enlisted the help of her older sister, my classmate Ricki. She, like me, had her driver’s license and was, no doubt, a little, a lot, on the wild side. She indicated that she didn’t have a problem at all violating Christian rules.
Around 1:00 p.m. each afternoon Ricki would drop Olivia and me off on the north side of Aurora Lake. She let us off on Lawson Gap Road and we walked south to, what to us, seemed to be the most remote part of the lake. The giant reservoir had been built just a couple of years earlier and wasn’t the hangout you would expect. All the land around the lake was privately owned but not yet occupied with cabins or permanent dwellings. I also knew that a huge portion of the land around the south side of the lake was owned by an organization the Flaming Five referred to as Club Eden. This was the last time I intended to think of those five guys and the table from hell all during this week.
Our afternoons at the lake were spent laying on a blanket that we had carried on Monday but had left hidden, wrapped up in a piece of plastic that Olivia had confiscated from Randi and Rickie’s house. We also waded out into the lake. We only did this two times. The water was freezing cold. We skipped stones across the water and shared jokes and played Trivia and even got pretty good at our form of charades. Without doubt, for me, and I fully believe for Olivia, our lives were eternally changed the five days we spent sharing our hearts laying on that old cotton blanket. The weird part of our private activities was the absence of sex, although Olivia and I did engage, every day, in some heavy petting. Our kissing was passionate, and our hands explored each other from head to toe, but one rule we always obeyed. Our clothes stayed on and our hands stayed outside.
It was Friday afternoon that talk of our future came up. We had spent the other four afternoons revealing how we felt about every issue under the sun. The central theme was my salvation, or the lack thereof. But, Olivia was getting pretty good at compartmentalization. It was like she was two persons. She suffered, or maybe enjoyed, two personalities. I enjoyed the side of Olivia that seemed to allow herself to be free, to love life, to laugh, and enjoy the mystery of the universe. At one point, although it didn’t go as far as I would have liked, she seemed seriously interested in my take on how unbelievers were happy without God, how they created their own purpose, and how focusing on the here and now was so much more satisfying than believing in an afterlife. She seemed to love my statement, ‘this is all the life we have, let’s enjoy it. We are fortunate to be here at all.’
I was laying on the blanket in Olivia’s lap. She was leaning back against a tree. She loved fooling with my curly hair, always trying to train it to go against what she referred to as a cowlick. Only in Alabama. “Will you write me every day?”
“How many times? Per day. Whatever you want. Whatever we need.” I looked up into Olivia’s eyes. Tears were forming and just beginning their descent down her cheeks.
“Matt, I don’t think I can live with you not here. Let’s run away. I will do anything to be together. Forever.” She was as serious as I had ever seen her.
“You have to know that I want to, that I would, but I’ve read enough novels and seen enough movies to know that it wouldn’t end well. We must stick to our plan. Does this make you think I don’t love you enough to risk all?” I needed to know that she wasn’t doubting me.
“I want to believe God has a plan for us, that His purpose is for us to be together. Sometimes I think He is testing me, seeing if I truly love Him. Like He is saying, ‘Olivia, I know what’s best for you. Do you think I would keep you from what’s best for you?’”
“I was hoping we could leave God out of this.” I probably shouldn’t have said that.
“Matt, God already knows everything. He knows your future and mine. He knows about every hair on our heads, and He knows what we will be doing five years from now.” Olivia was locking up the personality I loved the most, letting the one formed by years and years of brainwashing come forth.
“So, our future cannot be changed? It’s already set in stone? Since God knows every aspect of our future, everything we will ever do, then He has no power to change anything. It seems to me what happens in our lives should be our decision.”
“It is confusing, isn’t it? I don’t begin to understand God. He is mysterious. He wouldn’t be God otherwise.” Olivia, bless her heart, was the perfect Christian. She had been perfectly programmed.
“Dad has promised me I can call you once per week. I know three years, you’re tenth, eleventh, and twelfth grade years, right now seem like a very long time. It is a long time, but I will come to your high school graduation and, if you want, we can run off and get married, or we can wait on that formality and just enjoy being together. I will have two years of college under my belt. I will be settled someplace, probably Harvard. You will move that fall to Cambridge and nothing will stop us.” It seemed I had it all planned out.
“What worries me is those three years apart. You will be a senior next year. You will be so tempted by all the pretty girls at school you will forget me. You’ll convince yourself that this little country girl was fun for a season but is easily forgotten with all those sophisticated young ladies around you.” Olivia was forgetting the real us, the couple who were virtually inseparable in mind and spirit.
“Olivia, you are letting fears move in.” I sat up on my knees and kissed her lightly. I lay back down and pulled her on top of me. “Look at me. Don’t you see my heart? Don’t you see your reflection. That’s who I see morning, noon, and night. You are my world. You are all the woman I will ever want. I love you. Don’t you know that?” I said, as truthful as I had ever been.
“I do. Yes, I know all these things, but I’m still scared.” Olivia sat up on her folded knees, took both my hands, and pinned them back to the old cotton blanket like we were in a wrestling match. “Can I ask you something? Sorry, I already know that I can. How many children do you want us to have?”
“Now? I mean in nine months? I said.
“Matt Benson, we better keep our clothes on. I’m not ready for a baby.” Olivia had misinterpreted my question.
“No, silly. I mean after we are married?”
“Four.” Olivia jumped in before I finished sounding my last word. “I have always wanted children. Since you walked into my life I have thought a lot about that question. Four, five, six, the more the better. We have a lot of love to give. And, I kind of like the idea of a lot of lovemaking.”
“Which kind?” It seemed the perfect question. I wanted to be prepared.
“I suspect that kind would be the skin to skin type.” She said and for a moment I could almost visualize Olivia standing beside our big bed in our small apartment at college. Her letting me unbutton her blouse and remove her pants. I could see every wonderful beautiful curve. Our skin to skin lovemaking would be out of this world. I hated temptation.
I overpowered Olivia’s grip and rolled us over onto our sides. Our lips met, and we didn’t come up for air until we heard the three short beeps from Ricki’s car horn. I would have preferred lying beside her all night, under the stars, on that old cotton blanket. She was, no doubt, my special angel. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for the girl I loved with every cell of my being. That word, love, seemed so unworthy to describe how I felt as we stuffed our blanket into the plastic bag and hid it behind two prickly bushes next to an outcropping of rocks.
The Pencil-Driven Life 