Tarizon: Desert Swarm Page 7
Chapter 7
The Church of the Living Desert
After Jake had left his office, Principal Barnes called his pastor, Reverend John Little, of the Church of the Living Desert. Reverend Little had read the story in the Inyo Register and was fascinated by it. He had to know where God was raising up this great cathedral in the desert but the location wasn’t revealed in the article. So, he wondered how he was going to find out where it was. As he was thinking, the answer came to him. There was only one high school in Shoshone, so Jake Carpenter would be a student there. Luckily for him the Principal, Paul Barnes, was a member of the church.
“Okay, I got the location for you,” Barnes advised.
“Thank you, Paul. I am going to organize a pilgrimage out there this afternoon. This is too good an opportunity to pass up.”
“Yes. I think God has finally answered our prayers.”
Two years earlier the church had lost its affiliation because it could not afford the financial commitment demanded by the mother church. As a result two thirds of the members had left, leaving the little church in dire financial straits. But Reverend Little was not a quitter and stubbornly refused to close the doors. His father had been a preacher in a suburb of Dallas and had a huge congregation. John hadn’t followed in his father’s footsteps because his father had groomed his big brother to take over the church when he retired. He didn’t like his brother much and wasn’t about to live in his shadow, so he set out on his own. To make ends meet he’d sold insurance for a while, then became a broker-dealer selling deferred annuities, but eventually turned back to his roots when he saw an advertisement for a pastor for the Church of the Living Desert.
“Can I borrow a couple of school buses to take people out there?” Little asked.
“Sure, but they can’t be taken off the road. I’d get hell from the school board if one of the buses got damaged.”
“We won’t take them off the main highway. We’ll get some Jeeps and pickups out there to shuttle people to and from the site. Some people may have to walk, but that’s okay. Jesus wandered around the desert for forty days and forty nights, so eight or nine miles is nothing.”
“Be sure you have plenty of food and water. We don’t want anyone dying on this pilgrimage.”
“Amen to that,” Reverend Little said. “I want to be the first one out there so we can stake out the prime real estate. I have a feeling it’s gonna get crowded when folks figure out where it’s located.”
“You’re probably right,” Barnes agreed.
After the three school buses had finished their routes that afternoon they lined up in front of the church. An excited crowd of about a hundred-fifty faithful had gathered and began climbing onto the buses. A dozen or so other vehicles including pickups, jeeps, and motorcycles joined the motorcade when it took off thirty minutes later.
The atmosphere on the buses was electric. The passengers sang hymns of hope and salvation in anticipation of the promised miracle in the desert. Reverend Little was elated with what was happening. He knew this was the beginning of great things for his ministry if he could just stay in the forefront and not get elbowed out by the Catholic Diocese or the Baptists. To insure being in the spotlight he had invited not only the reporter for the Inyo Register but also reporters from the Sacramento Bee and the Los Angeles Times. He’d also alerted an old friend, George Putnam, at Channel 11News in LA. The reporters had met him at the church and were on the buses. The Channel 11 news crew was scheduled to meet the pilgrims at the accident site on Highway 127. He prayed they’d be there when they arrived.