Dave Casler
PO Box 98
Ridgway, Colorado 81432
Young Adult Novels by Dave Casler...
I've been told by publisher after publisher that there's no market for Young Adult novels. I think they're wrong! So I'm putting my novels on-line for you. Forget the publisher! Read to your heart's content--it's free! And, I'd like to hear from you, too! Contact Page.
You're reading About Phillip. Be sure to check out About Dan here.
Phillip is a computer nerd who suddenly discovers a liking for track. Everything would be fine except for his father.
About Series Home
About the About Series
Index to All Chapters
Here are all the chapters, disguised as asterisks. Hover your mouse over an asterisk to see the title of the chapter. Click on the asterisk to go straight to that chapter.
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(About Phillip Home) (Last) (Next)
The Meeting With Matthew
"There’s Matthew." Grant pointed across the crowded chapel at the doorway.
Phillip was sitting with the Havens; Lance, Margo and Martin sat across the chapel toward the back. It was two minutes until nine. The organ was playing a prelude and the members were settling noisily into their seats, greeting and chatting with each other. Children fussed, teens gossiped and adults buttonholed each other.
Phillip jumped up. He made his way around the people milling in the aisles, carefully staying well away from his parents. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Martin jump to his feet and move to intercept. When he saw Matthew his heart sank. Matthew was dressed in faded jeans and a torn tee- shirt, the latter bearing the logo of a rock band. He was standing slightly behind a dour, disgusted- looking man. The man spoke loudly to Matthew as Phillip approached.
"See Matthew, not even a cross. I don’t know what they worship, but it’s not…"
"Hi, Matthew," said Phillip. He extended his hand. Matthew took it limply. Martin joined the group but said nothing.
"Uh, Phillip," stammered Matthew. "This is my father, Simon Christiansen. He…uh…wanted to come with me."
"Oh, hi," said Phillip. He offered his hand to Simon who ignored it. Over Simon’s shoulder, Phillip saw Bishop Parker wending his way in their direction.
"Are you sure you want to do this, Matthew," said Simon. He looked like he’d just stepped in cow dung.
"Yes, father. I want to see for myself."
"Fine then. We’ll sit on the back row. Remember not to touch anything or take their sacrament."
"Matthew," said Phillip. "I’m with the Havens up toward the front. Would you like to come sit with me and Grant?" He carefully avoided looking at Simon. Martin hung on every word.
Matthew dithered. Before he could reply, Bishop Parker was with them.
Phillip spoke first. "Bishop, this is Matthew Christiansen from school. I’ve told you about him. This is his father Simon. They’ve come to see if we’re…"
"To show my son that you’re not Christian," finished Simon.
Matthew cowered and turned red. Phillip didn’t know what to say. But Bishop Parker wasn’t fazed.
"Brother Christiansen, we hope you enjoy our service. I need to get things started right now. Perhaps we can talk more afterwards. In the meantime, I commend our hymnbook to your attention. During the service please look through it to see what we sing about. Now, if you’ll excuse me…" He smiled and left, threading his way through the last of the people taking their seats.
Simon sat down firmly on the back row near the door. Phillip saw his moment. "Matthew, follow me." Obediently, Matthew tagged behind Phillip to where the Havens were sitting. Phillip went in first to sit by Grant. Matthew followed. Martin had followed them and sat next to Matthew.
Phillip watched Matthew closely. Matthew was studying the chapel, so Phillip did the same. The chapel seated over two hundred people in three columns of 10 pews each. Much of the front of the chapel was taken up by a large podium—a slightly raised area called "the stand" in Mormon parlance. The stand held a grand piano, the organ console, nearly forty choir seats and the pulpit. Several people sat on the front row of choir seats. The ones to Phillip’s right were the bishop and his two counselors. On the left side of the pulpit were a husband and wife and two youth; Phillip figured these would be today’s speakers—since the Mormon church is a lay church, speakers are drawn from the general congregation. Except for the organist and chorister, the rest of the choir seats were empty.
Matthew turned his head to look behind him. Phillip followed. The walls of the chapel were bare, without pictures or other decoration. Separating the chapel from the large multi-purpose hall behind them was a thick curtain; this could be opened for larger meetings. The organ pipes dominated an alcove at the center front of the chapel. Only light fixtures and air vents punctured the ceiling.
"Kinda bare, isn’t it?" whispered Matthew.
"Uh, no. I guess I’ve never seen any other kind."
"No cross."
"No, that was what killed Jesus. We don’t use what killed him as a symbol." Phillip was glad he paid attention in seminary.
"Oh."
The prelude ceased as did the whispers from the congregation. Bishop Parker stood behind the pulpit and announced the opening hymn and who would be offering the invocation. As the organist played the introduction to the hymn, Matthew started to stand. Phillip pulled him back down.
"What are you doing?" whispered Phillip.
"Don’t you stand for hymns?"
"No. Why would we do that?"
"Everyone else stands for hymns."
"We don’t."
"Oh."