The Bible I Bought Twice

One by one the children went down the steps into the tank. There were four of them that Sunday. Micah was the third.

He walked in with his hands clasped in front of him, the way he sees his father do. The water came up to his belt.

Brother Wayne put one hand on his back and one hand in the air, and asked him what he wanted the church to know.

Micah said it. He said the thing about the quiet car.

I watched a dozen old women reach for tissues at once, and Harlan Odom blew his nose, and Lowell Colburn, who I had never seen move in church, put his hand over his mouth.

“Micah Michael Lathem,” Brother Wayne said, “I baptize you, my brother, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.”

And he went under.

I had been holding my own breath, and I let it go.

A boy came up out of the water, shaking and grinning, and wiped his hair back with both hands. The whole church said amen.

I looked at Heidi in the front pew. She was crying a little, and I believed the tears.

That has been the hardest part to sort out in my own heart. She loves that boy. Whatever else she did, she loves him.

The service ran on. A hymn, a sermon on Noah and the ark, a closing prayer.

Then Brother Wayne lifted his hand for the benediction, and he said the last word, and every head came up.

That was the moment. The rows started to open. People reached for their purses.

In the front, Brother Wayne stepped down to shake Micah’s hand, and Micah stood in the aisle with his hair still wet and a towel around his neck.

I stood up with the sack.

I had thought about what I would say, and I will tell you what I had decided. I was not going to accuse anybody of anything.

I was not going to tell a church full of people what happened in a bookstore. I was only going to keep a promise I made to a nine-year-old on a porch.

I walked down the center aisle. Past the eighth pew, past the sixth, past Mr.

Odom, who had stopped with his hand on the offering plate. I could hear my shoes on the old oak floor.

People noticed. You can feel a church notice. The little murmur dropped away, and I felt faces turn from the pews on both sides.

Heidi saw me coming. She was standing beside her mother with the white leather Bible in her hand, ready to hand it to Micah in front of everyone. Her face went very still.

I did not look at her. I looked at my grandson.

“Micah Michael,” I said. It came out louder than I meant, and I let it. “This is your baptism Bible. I told you I’d have it for you.”

I held out the sack.