Mammoth Secrets by Ashley Elizabeth Ludwig

who broke God’s law? Did the Lord bless this Old Testament practice?”
    He looked everyone in the eye as he spoke, praying all the while for direction. He explained about stoning as punishment in ancient Judea, and how the Romans added it to their own methods of dealing with thieves, traitors, and liars. “Our Lord ended it, there on that day, when he asked the blameless to step forward. Not one among them could. A stone tossed in a pond, or a river, does nothing but make waves. Not one of us on this earth is without sin, without a past.”
    Gazes darted to Lilah, sitting stock-still.
    Here goes .
    “And that includes me.” His words evoked gasps and whispers from the audience.
    Tom Steadman shifted in his seat, while his wife fanned herself with the day’s announcement.
    “There’s a misconception about me that must be cleared up.”
    Whispers surged.
    “I am not a widower. My ex-wife is very much alive and still in southern California.” Murmurs and discontent rose in a wave as he held up hands for silence. “Now before you go gossiping, here’s what you need to know in accordance of our church leadership. We divorced for reasons that don’t concern anyone here, but as the Lord reminds—divorce shouldn’t burden anyone with an eternal shroud of shame.” But it did. And they will judge you, just as they did in California; just as they judged Lilah, now.
    His heart died a little at their stone-faced expressions. Still, he went on, “I want you to ask yourselves something before you go writing Hot Springs and asking for my replacement.” He stared back at each eye that remained trained on him. Many looked down, closed in prayer, or looked away. He allowed the silence to drag. “Who says divorce is a greater sin than lying or omission? Who would cast the first stone my way?” He clenched the rock in his fist and raised it, an offering. “It’s right there. And I’m guilty.”
    That brought a nervous chortle.
    “There was a time I’d have thrown it myself,” Jake went on, giving the rock a toss-catch. “So, I have another question for you...” Palms slick, he fought the urge to wipe them on his pants. He cocked the stone toward the stained glass window like a Cardinal’s pitcher and paused for effect.
    “No!” someone shouted.
    More gasps, he turned to show them the palmed chunk of Ozark chert. “What if Jesus Himself closed His hand over yours? What if He stopped you from flinging that stone just in the nick of time? Before you had to ask for His forgiveness?”
    Some of the teens blinked.
    Scott and Emma’s teenage daughter looked near tears.
    He sighed, continuing through his message, though his heart sank faster than that un-skipped stone at the river. They’d never allow him to stay now, so he segued into his plans. “God doesn’t want us standing around congratulating ourselves for being pure or forgiven. He wants to be there, to stand in front of the one being stoned.” Please , he prayed, and glanced around the room again.
    An almost imperceptible chuckle filtered through the crowd.
    Good. Still have them. “People are coming to Mammoth in a few short weeks. They want the joy of the roller coaster, the excitement of the tilt-a-whirls and shooting galleries. I say we give everyone the chance to experience eternal joy. Let’s move the Revival to the park, near the carnival. We can open those tents to everyone, just up the hill—catch the curious, like in the days when Earl Dale was a young man.”
    All eyes turned to the white-haired man nestled beside his wife and granddaughters.
    Nods and thoughtful tilts of the head indicated he’d caught their attention.
    Naomi Dale’s cheeks flashed a hot flush of red.
    Some of these fish had swum right past, pretended not to notice, but most were circling now. Soon, they’d bite, especially the younger crowd. Raymond, the dishwasher from Earl’s Kitchen, gave a fist pump as he nodded, mop of black hair falling into his eyes. There were more