the attention in the room to slam on him, which is an instant reprieve for Ginny, but forces him to immediately lower his gaze. Unbothered, his eyes move to the book in front of him. “Open your Bibles with me to Ruth,” he instructs his flock, and when everyone has found a Bible from the trays and the whispery sound of what sounds like hundreds of onion skins being rustled ceases, he begins to recap this book they’ve read together so far.
As he does, people from the choir box exit and find their spot on pews with family. Finn makes his way to us, grinning broadly and scooting into the place Ginny saved for him. She doesn’t look at him and he makes an “och” sound of dismay—I don’t even know how to describe it—and he whispers, “Didn’t mean to embarrass you. I swear it.”
She’s beet red. “I know. It’s okay.”
Next to me, Liam is quietly sitting beside his family, occupied with a book that appears to be made entirely of felt. Each page has a scene printed on it, and right now, he’s looking at the Ark. Out of the door that is actually a cleverly designed pocket, he tugs a pile of little felt animals. Lots and lots of animals.
“That is so cute,” I whisper to him, and when he glances up at me, I nod to his assembly of soft creatures.
Ginny leans into me and murmurs, “Isn’t it supposed to be the animals going in ‘two by two?’ Why are there so many sheep?”
Finn, his hands folded demurely in front of his holy-looking robes, can hear us fine and answers, “In Genesis, the scripture makes the distinction that clean beasts should come by sevens. Only the beasts that weren’t clean entered by two.” He shrugs. “Makes sense. The people on the Ark ate the clean animals.”
Deek instructs everyone to find the verse and chapter where they left off on their last session, and Ginny passes Finn a Bible so that all of us have one open on our laps to follow along with.
Deek interjects some history and interesting facts as he reads. It’s an hour of actual study, and I’m glad we’re covering this story, as Ruth is a feel-good book and ends really sweet.
“Did Ruth sit back and wait for something to happen? No. She anointed, and then she got up and went after what she wanted,” Deek says. “And think about that. These were perilous times for a woman. She was instructed to stay close to Boaz’s men because the concern she’d be molested was that great. And yet she trusted Boaz. She believed in his character, believed that he’d do the honorable thing by her. Which,” Deek’s gaze flashes up to meet ours for the briefest beat before dropping again, “he did. He kept her reputation intact and loaded her down with enough food for two widows, because he didn’t want her to go unto her mother in law empty handed.” Deek flips a fraction of his Bible’s pages and stops. “Turn to 1 Samuel 25:14. Abigail is married to a total dic—”
Finn coughs a chortle.
“—tator,” Deek finishes, rolling his downcast eyes, smiling as the whole church seems to chuckle, “and when her shepherds rush in to tell her how badly her husband has ticked off David—railed at him, offended him, this great warrior and all his powerful men who protected them—does she sit back quietly?” Deek shakes his head. “Skip to verse eighteen, where it says she quickly takes action.” He reads until the twenty-fourth verse, and then summarizes. “Abigail literally jumps off her ass to get things done.”
The congregation laughs softly.
“Head with me to Judges 4:8,” Deek instructs, “where we’ll read about Deborah managing Israel before God has her leading an army, and this woman named Jael, whose husband was very careful not to go to sleep with her mad...”
Ginny grins as she reads along and finds out why. “Brutal,” she murmurs of the tent peg to the temple.
“Terrifying,” Finn agrees.
“I like her,” I declare.
Finn stares at me over Ginny. “You’re scary.”
People around us shush him (because he doesn’t whisper this), prompting him to grin and hunker over his Bible.
The overall lesson surprises me. You want something? Be brave and work for it.
Deek wraps the book of Ruth up, then Finn and the choir pop up front to sing a song. But this time, the choir howls their notes.
It makes for spine-chilling vocals—because werewolves sing spooky. Beautiful… but spooky. Everything sounds so