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    Salvation Boys
    Salvation Boys
    Salvation Boys
    Ebook246 pages3 hours

    Salvation Boys

    By Kyler Doss

    ()

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    About this ebook

    The high school boys in these stories get very involved with the boys they meet - and come up against the problem of love. But the problem is never love itself - 1) how do you meet; 2) if there's a dance; 3) the rumors that wash over the landscape. From the West Coast of the USA to an American school overseas, it all adds up to four dramas for these main characters: Micah, Neil, Tim, and Alan.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherChip House Print
    Release dateJun 7, 2024
    ISBN9781938181283
    Salvation Boys
    Author

    Kyler Doss

    Kyler Doss has got a pocketful of chocolate milk receipts from the bus depots he has gone through. His note on the reverse side of one of the receipts: Arizona rules. A graduate of the University of Arizona, Kyler writes fiction that is set in a lot of places - the coming-of-age stories boys in love would recognize on any map you can google or unfold.

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      Book preview

      Salvation Boys - Kyler Doss

      High School Preachers

      Chapter 1

      I HATED what my parents were doing to me. They told me my future was set, that I was called to preach the Gospel. No two ways about it. And since I wasn't allowed to have my own opinion, then I would never tell them how I really felt. I didn't want the future they said was mine.

      They said it was mine but I didn't recognize myself in it. What I really wanted to try out was what they said was immoral. Even though I didn't know exactly what that could be, I knew I would come up with something. There was a lot to choose from because in their world just about everything was immoral. Maybe I could just be who I was, which could turn out to be the greatest crime of all.

      What was going on now was that I had come to the coast to win a preaching competition for high school boys, seniors. Maybe some of them were juniors, I didn't know for sure. I did know I had never lost one of these things. I also knew I didn’t care anymore.

      Not far from the beach where I was standing, there were these railroad tracks. Two trains had come by in the span of about half an hour, one for freight and the other for passengers. It didn't make any difference to me who was on board. I just wanted to know they would be so far down the line in a day or two that if they thought about me at all they would forget who they thought I was.

      I was actually a kid who wanted to be normal. I didn't want to be a kid with a calling, responsible for the serious business of people's souls. But you couldn't very well tell the truth of how you felt when you would be accused of turning your back on God.

      The train tracks, cut in the side of a hill, were a good 20 feet higher than the beach. All you had to do was climb up there and hop a freight, or so I've heard. They even ran in winter, a fact I needed to know.

      Christmas was over but New Year's hadn't come. I had never been to a New Year's Eve party, at least not the kind with alcohol. At home we celebrated things in prayer. I didn't know what they would do here.

      Although I was very cold, I held my place on the beach. A light rain was stinging the sand, as if the sand could feel. It couldn't, of course, and neither could I.

      Nothing seemed real in the wintertime. It seemed to me that the people responsible for the beach would be coming along any minute now to put it in the back of a truck. Summer was the true time of beachcombing, the time of finding unexpected things. There was nothing here for me, and no one around.

      The building where they sold lemonade had padlocks on the doors and shutters. I didn't know if they really sold lemonade but I wanted to think they did. There were many things I wanted to believe but none of them would change the dark, the rain, or the competition I had come to win.

      I was here alone except that there were a lot of people who had come here for the same reason as me. If you were involved in church activities, then your parents would let you travel by yourself, even to the immoral cities of the Pacific Coast. I didn't know what was immoral about this one. It only seemed kind of dismal to me in the total gray of its clouds, especially with nightfall coming on.

      A hotel room was waiting for me but I didn't want to go there. I had met this one guy over there in the lobby when we were standing around waiting for whatever was supposed to come next. His name was Daniel. All he wanted to talk about was salvation, which was fine. It was just that I talked about that all the time and I wanted to get out of there and go to the beach or something.

      I found it by walking north, where the sailboats were parked. I forgot the word they used for that but I did know what a jetty was, huge rocks that protected the boats. A red light on the jetty marked the end of the piers. Beyond that it was pretty much the open sea. The beach I found looked out on it, though there were islands or something out there, more obstacles to the Pacific.

      Rain was coming down in a misty form, not the kind of rain we had back home, where you ran for cover and never made it. This rain, you could ignore. I walked now from the lemonade shack toward the water. Because of the winter sundown, it was already too late to get a look at anything, no matter what I thought I was looking for.

      But it seemed like somebody had found me. He must have even followed me, which was worse than being found by chance. About 20 yards off, he waved.

      You're Micah, he said, aren't you?

      Yeah.

      He got closer. I've heard about you.

      I didn't know how anybody could have heard about me. It wasn't like I was a movie star. I started up the beach toward the lemonade shack. It was better if I was a moving target.

      It's raining, I said.

      His path merged with mine. The name's Griffin, he said.

      I didn't want to know. Your last name?

      First.

      I'm Micah, I said.

      I know.

      There wasn't much point in this, or in the direction I was going. But at the lemonade shack, I just kept on going and Griffin did, too, slightly behind. The train tracks were on the other side of the parking lot. Past all that, the hill got pretty steep, so I didn't know where I was going.

      Griffin pulled even with me in a parking space, where we came to a halt, all the exits equally worthless.

      You and Cody are the best, he said.

      We are?

      Everybody knows it.

      I had never heard of Cody. Then again, it seemed strange that anybody had ever heard of me. If Griffin knew so much, then maybe he could tell me how I could lose to this Cody.

      I saw a couple of trains go by earlier, I said.

      Where?

      I took him up the bank, where sparse trees separated the rails from the shore.

      We aren't supposed to be here, I said. But you know, if you're careful.

      Griffin stood on the near rail. That made him taller, of course, but it didn't tell me anything more than that. He had red hair. The better lighting up here made that plain. I watched the rail itself, a metal line that would send notice of a train. But I didn't want to put my ear to the steel. Maybe it was better if I didn't know what was coming.

      Let's get down from here, I said.

      The view from the bank showed us that a few people were having a barbecue in spite of the rain. The shelters must have had more to do with water than sunshine. I started down and Griffin caught up again near the bottom.

      Are you hungry? he said.

      How do you know me? I stopped in the parking lot, where the two cars probably belonged to the people standing near the barbecue.

      They say you're the best high school preacher they ever heard.

      Are you competing here? I said.

      We came to the curb and the soggy grass just beyond. Griffin sank a little. I don't expect to win, he said.

      But I did.

      What do you know about Cody? I said.

      Totally different style.

      Like what?

      I guess we were pretty close to the barbecue shelter. A guy waved a metal spatula.

      You kids hungry? he said.

      Griffin raised his hand. Yeah, he said.

      Like the picnic was all planned for us, we walked toward the shelter. I didn’t know any of these people, not even Griffin, not really.

      Hamburger or hot dog? the cook said.

      Both, Griffin said, and everybody laughed.

      There was no reason for me to feel responsible for him. Besides, you could tell they liked him a lot better than they liked me. I was used to it because quiet people don't draw that much affection. Then the cook looked at me for an answer.

      I’m okay, I said.

      I’m the king of the burger makers, he said. You’ll see if it isn’t true.

      It was hard to say why they were being so nice to us except that the beach was a disturbing place in the rain and then we miraculously came by. The spirit must have moved them.

      You boys live around here? somebody said.

      We’re competing in the preaching contest, Griffin said.

      Everyone nodded like they knew what that was but you could tell they didn’t. And Griffin wasn’t done.

      Micah’s the best. He slapped me on the back.

      Is that right? the cook said. You do look like a preacher.

      I think I wanted to say, What does a preacher look like?

      But the man could apparently cook and make conversation at the same time.

      Kind of tall, he said. Kind of serious.

      Griffin laughed and so did the rest of them. I wanted to leave. They had no right to treat me this way, like one of their city's street performers.

      Cody’s the best, I said.

      Everybody looked at Griffin.

      No, he said. I’m not him.

      Then who are you? the cook said, and he flipped another burger on the grill.

      Griffin.

      They laughed again as if they were getting their money's worth.

      Okay, the cook said, and his smile wouldn’t stop.

      Now that they had named us, I didn’t see how they could have any further use for us. I was kind of hungry, though. They never told us at the hotel how we were supposed to get our meals. And the man cooking the burgers was as good as he said he was if the waft from the grill was any sign.

      Is the preaching about religion? a woman in the corner said.

      Yes, Griffin said.

      They were all sitting on benches and lawn chairs except for the cook, and he was the one all of us watched because he reached for things and then caused a spark and sizzle on the grill like it was some kind of unholy piano.

      Micah, he said, you like pickles?

      Yes, sir, I do.

      The truth was, I was waiting for a train to go by. I just wanted to know they kept on running, that there was still a way out of this town. Not that home was any sort of destination. But there were other immoral cities out there, places where I was not expected to win another preaching contest.

      Dill or sweet? the cook said.

      His question felt like I was on stage, like he had actually said, Good or evil?

      Griffin was ready for anything I would say because I had a reputation. And I knew I was going to come up with something that I never would have before.

      Sir, I said, I like the sweet ones.

      The people in the lounge chairs nodded or did nothing. The woman who had the question about religion took a sip of what looked like lemonade. Somehow she was able to smile throughout the sip.

      You got it, the cook said.

      He was conducting the whole orchestra. Salt and pepper flew, things jumped on the grill at his command, and that spatula did figure eights in the air. There was no audience, though. All of us were his musicians.

      I like pickles, Griffin said.

      So he was one of those kids I knew from all the other times I preached and won. His calling was never the word. It was always the fun of being with all the other kids in some strange town. They did the best they could and they went home. I’m sure they told their little brothers and sisters tales of the forbidden land, once the children were sworn to secrecy, that is.

      But they never told those tales to me. Even the children wouldn't tell me. In so many ways, I was left out of my own life.

      Everybody likes pickles, the cook said. He had stopped making sense but that’s because he was grilling hamburgers and hot dogs, off in his own world. Yes, sir, there ain’t been the preacher man yet but what he don’t like what I cook up.

      The woman with the lemonade was probably his wife. I don’t know how much meaning there is in tracing water drops down the outside of a glass, but I think it was a sign she was mesmerized, a real follower of the man. Somehow I knew that things occurred between people and I could only guess at what any of it really was.

      -

      THE FOOD was great. I had two hamburgers and one hot dog. Sweet pickles on everything. Griffin had two hamburgers and three hot dogs. I think he may have gone with the dill pickles, but what impressed everyone the most was the volume of his picnic lunch.

      Yeah, I started to think he was funny. We all liked him, no doubt about it. His hair was red, of course, but then so was his heavy shirt. Let’s be honest anyhow, the red of your hair and your shirt are rarely the same red. Red is that color that comes in so many shades.

      Plus, many consider it to be the color of evil. I never looked at it that way myself. But then they would say that I, too, was evil for what I was thinking of doing, which I still couldn't put a name on.

      You guys are wonderful, the cook said. You made the party. It was great that you could join us.

      Thank you, I said. I wanted to hug him, and hug everybody else, too, if they would let me. Naturally, I didn’t.

      Griffin did. He threw his arms around the cook. The laughter went up in our winter gazebo. And when I thought the world would come to an end, it didn’t.

      I believe I looked forlorn or something to the outside world. The woman with the lemonade came up and hugged me. She was, it turned out, the cook’s wife.

      You boys have fun at your meeting, she said. I don’t think she quite knew what to call it.

      Griffin said our final goodbyes and we were gone in what was now a full-blown winter’s night. You could see the fire leaving us in the distance. I felt sad, but I also felt resolved about what I was thinking of doing.

      I wanted to go home. No victories, no defeats. Just let me go back. I would never preach again if quitting it was possible. I mean, you don’t know how heavy the expectation was that I would preach and save souls for all the days of my life.

      Yes, I will tell you what I really wanted to do before I started thinking of something immoral. Play baseball. I was not half bad at third base but baseball was considered an amusement that was not allowed beyond a certain point. Apparently I had already gone past that point. The course for me was now set toward a preaching career.

      I won preaching competitions as a sophomore in high school. Somewhere along the way, I realized that I was winning every time out. And now, people like Griffin knew who I was without ever seeing me before. This was not the kind of success you were allowed to walk away from.

      Besides, when I said I was good at third base, it was the defense that I was talking about. I could field the ball well. I had some trouble at the plate, though, especially with the breaking stuff. Still, I wanted one more spring in the game I had always played. But between Christmas and New Year’s I was looking at a world I had come to hate, and a future that I didn't need.

      Griffin and I walked south past the jetty. Lights came from the hill and also from the water on our right. Some people had their boats decked out in Christmas lights. It was nice to see, something strange for any boy who didn’t come from the coast.

      Those people were so nice, Griffin said.

      Yeah. Then I thought what I was trained to think. Do you suspect they are of the world?

      Well, I really like them.

      I couldn’t see his face to see his embarrassment. Or I didn’t think it was there. Griffin was smaller than me, not responsible for the way everybody else in the world behaved.

      We were back on the city street and the hotel wasn’t so far away.

      Did you check in? I said.

      Do you have a roommate?

      Griffin would be a much better roommate than Daniel.

      No, I said. What do we do?

      Anything we want.

      Daniel met us in the lobby. I don’t know who he reminded me of. Maybe Griffin. They weren’t that opposite to each other in appearance, only in personality. Griffin was funny, Daniel was serious. He looked at me.

      I told them, he said, that you would be my roommate.

      It was times like this when I really wanted to be home in my own room, sorting out my baseball cards. I labored for the words to get me out of rooming with him, but they wouldn’t come.

      I stole him, Griffin said.

      It must have been the perfect word. Daniel just stood there. The reason he wanted me for a roommate was because of my reputation. He could steal from my success and make it his own. At the very least, we could spend hours dissecting Bible verses.

      Fortunately, Griffin was like a kid staying at an amusement park hotel. He grabbed me and dragged me to the desk for the high school preachers and he explained how the room arrangements were going to be. I listened like it was happening in the distance somewhere, and when the lady looked at me I only smiled.

      -

      NEXT THING I knew, Griffin and I were sitting on beds against opposite walls.

      That was pretty funny, he said. Daniel can’t have you.

      I was fairly good with words surrounding the Bible. But these other words, the ones about barbecue and roommates, I fished for the words without knowing what I could come up with.

      I hate Daniel, I said. I barely knew him but I hated him. What’s more, I had just told Griffin. I couldn't believe I had said it out loud.

      I would, too, he said, if I got stuck in a room with him. He isn’t any fun at all.

      It sounded like Griffin was telling me I was fun. I kind of liked the idea and I thought back on the picnic we went to.

      I can’t believe how much you ate, I said. I

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