My Best Friend's Exorcism(53)

Isaiah, the ringleader and MC, pointed to two enormous notched wooden beams leaning against the massive blank stage wall, one much shorter than the other. Jonah and Micah, his other brothers, heaved up the longer beam and brought it center stage.

“We want to invite any volunteers to come move this burden,” Isaiah said, a smile breaking out across his mustached face. “Can you guys lift this lumber? Can you shift this weight? What about you? Young lady, would you like to try?”

Everyone laughed as Gretchen flexed her muscles in the audience.

Isaiah laughed and flexed his own back at her. Then he pointed next to her.

“How about you? You look strong?”

He was pointing at Wallace Stoney. No one wanted to get onstage and be embarrassed, but Wallace was too arrogant to refuse. He stood up and said something that Abby couldn’t hear.

“You can bring people, sure,” Isaiah said. “The more the merrier. Don’t be shy.”

Wallace said something fast to Gretchen, then he grabbed Nuke Zuckerman and the two Bailey brothers to go onstage with him. They were a big chunk of the football team’s offensive line, and school pride swept the auditorium. The football players clapped for them first, and then everyone else joined in, eager to see these corny Christians get their challenge shoved back in their faces by the pride of Albemarle. Maybe these guys couldn’t win a football game, but they were certainly able to pick up heavy things.

“Now come to the center,” Isaiah said, leading them to the larger wooden beam. It was about fifteen feet long. “Can you lift this? Let me see some muscle. Show us your muscle.”

The four boys struck exaggerated bodybuilding poses and the Lemon Brothers clapped for them.

“Now let’s see you lift,” Isaiah said. “Or are those just show muscles?”

Wallace bossed the other football players into position. He bent over one end of the log, with Nuke at the other and the Baileys in the center. On his count, they strained and managed to lift the chunk of wood to shoulder height. Faces reddening, arms shaking, they pushed and raised it over their heads. Major looked nervous, probably thinking of liability issues, but Isaiah was ecstatic.

“Give them a big round of applause,” he cued the crowd. “But now, let’s see the real challenge. Lift that . . . and this.”

Micah and Jonah heaved the shorter beam off the back wall and brought it center stage, where they lowered it with a loud bang. It was only a third the length.

“Can we put this one down?” Wallace asked.

Isaiah made a “whatever works” gesture, and the football players dropped the long heavy log with a boom and began strategizing. First they tried to lift both beams at once, then they stacked them, piled them on top of each other, tried to balance them, but they couldn’t make it work. Wallace was getting angrier and angrier. Finally, when it was clear they weren’t getting anywhere, Isaiah intervened.

“That’s okay,” he said. “You tried.”

Isaiah laid a hand on Wallace’s shoulder, but Wallace flicked it off. He and his football buddies started to walk offstage angrily, but Isaiah planted himself in front of them.

“I’ve never seen volunteers raise it chest-high before, so another round of applause for these fine young men,” he said as the audience obliged. “Wait here, don’t go anywhere. What would you say if I said my brother can pick up both these logs all by himself?”

He held out the mic.

“I’d say you were lying,” Wallace replied.

Isaiah cued his brothers, and Christian, the youngest one with the biggest muscles, walked over to the two massive pieces of lumber. He dragged the short one to the top of the long one and dropped it into place, locking the notches. Then he bent his knees, lifted the end of the longer beam, arms shaking, face red, neck corded, and he ducked underneath. Balancing it on his back, he lifted both logs at once. Notched together, they formed an enormous cross. Face sweating, Christian shifted his grip and the rear of the cross swung wildly, almost taking out the back wall of the auditorium; but then he had it and was pressing up and up and up. The cross was over his head. Slowly, he spun in a circle, his brothers ducking so they wouldn’t get decapitated. The crowd went wild. Christian held the massive cross for two seconds before bending his elbows.

“Hup!” he cried, and his four brothers came and took the weight.

More applause.

“With the power of the cross,” Christian crowed into his brother’s microphone, breathing hard, “everything is possible.”

He struck a bodybuilding pose, flexing his sculpted shoulders under his mesh tank top. Next, Jonah, who walked with a limp, placed a watermelon on a table.

With one blow, Christian shattered it with a fist.

“These are the problems that afflict this world,” Christian said as the melon exploded into a shower of pink pulp. Jonah threw him two grapefruits. “Life may be tough, but my God is tougher.”

Christian squeezed the fruits to dripping pulp with his bare hands. The show was moving into a final frenzy.

“These are the demons that haunt this world, destroyed through the faith and power that sustain me!”

“Wow,” Dereck White muttered, sitting behind Abby. “If any rogue citrus attacks, he’s got it covered.”

The kids in the Environmental Awareness Club sitting on either side of him giggled. Onstage, Jonah picked up a stack of CDs.