Almost Heaven (19 page)

“I'd like that a lot,” I said.

And then he prayed a prayer that made me ashamed because it felt like I was intruding on a holy conversation he was having with almighty God. Part of me felt I shouldn't even have been there. But I was, and by God's grace he was too.

Before he left, he asked me to write my address on the napkin. “I'd better get back before my wife wonders if she's missed the Rapture.” Then he laughed and took off across the lobby.

“Dr. Rogers?” He stopped and turned back to me. “Thank you for what you mean to us.”

“Thank the Lord, Billy. And thank you for your devotion to the King.”

* * *

Two weeks later I got a white envelope in the mail with a return address from Tennessee. It was a card signed by Dr. Rogers with Proverbs 16:9 written in his own hand.
God bless you, Billy. So glad we got to meet. This is a little something to help you dig the first shovelful of dirt for the antenna.
It was a check for $1,000.

It was the only check I would receive. I did go to the pastor of our church and some of the leaders and we talked through some things. I told them my dream and that Dr. Rogers had met and prayed with me. The pastor was not as hard on me as the others—he was actually supportive to a point—but the reaction from the others was clear. There was no way they were ever going to get on board the leaky ark I was about to build.

The pastor said he would pray for me and do anything he could to help. They put me on the prayer list. But to be honest, I knew I had to go at this more like the Lone Ranger. That did not deter me. I deposited the check from Dr. Rogers in the bank under the name Billy Allman Enterprises. A local lawyer and CPA who was in my graduating class helped me incorporate the business with the state and I was rolling. Any check I got from my work on TVs and radios I would apportion to the mortgage and paying the utilities. Whatever was left over at the end of the month went into the radio station fund.

It was a long, uphill climb with as many setbacks as I'd ever had with anything I'd tried in my life. They say that anything that's good is going to be hard, and if you measure success by the amount of work it took, that station was a success long before I went on the air.

I began construction of the control room first since I already had some equipment. I took the door from Mama's room off the hinges and cut a rectangular hole in it that the old Gates board with rotary pots fit perfectly into. I put up foam from an old mattress top on the walls to deaden the sound so my voice didn't bounce around too much. As long as Rogers didn't bark at the squirrels in the trees and nobody flushed the toilet on the other side of the wall, it was pretty quiet. Nobody did that, of course, because there was nobody there but me. Now when the trains would go through in the morning and the evening, that was a different story. You could hear that leak through the window, but I like that sound a lot and I figured I'd use it.

I kept looking online and in the trades for a deal on a transmitter. You'd be surprised what you can find on the Internet. I found one I thought I could afford, but it would have eaten up all of my savings, so I decided to build it myself.

For the antenna tower, I only had enough money for the top section. I decided to run the line back on the hill so the signal would be stronger, but I couldn't afford to install a tower. Finally, an old boy who lived in the hollow, Earl Cummins, heard about what I was trying to do and said he had a telephone pole that they'd disconnected just sitting in a field. He said he'd pull it down and I could use it. We worked one Saturday getting it back on the hill. I fixed the top section to it and we set to digging. With a chain, a couple ropes, and a pulley, we managed to get it about halfway up before the pole swung down and nearly killed Earl. He managed to escape getting squished.

We cut the pole in two to make it more manageable and that meant I didn't need such a tall ladder to work on it. It was something to see that antenna on the hill. Most people never noticed it, but I would drive up to the next exit on the interstate and slow down when I passed and just look up and shake my head. My dream was coming true.

People in town would ask what I was doing and I'd tell them as much as they could handle. It's hard letting other people in on your dream when most of them think you're crazy. There were times when I thought I was in way over my head. At one low point, I had run out of money and all I had to eat was one box of macaroni and cheese. I didn't even have the milk, so I just used water. I told Rogers I was going to have to start eating from his dish and he wagged his tail. It's a wonderful thing to have a companion like that who just wants to sit by you while you work.

One night I was working late with my soldering iron in what had become master control. I had gotten all the XLR cables done and was down under the table wiring up the console to the reel-to-reel tape players that would have been obsolete at any other station. I was working as hard as I could, but I was tired and hungry and about ready to give up. I started thinking about Heather and wondering what had happened with her. I hadn't heard anything after the wedding. And down there in the dust and dirt I thought about how much my life felt like it was purposeless and how I was useless to God or anybody else, and I'll be honest with you, I about lost it. The tears just rolled and I knew I was feeling something real, though part of me wondered if I was getting low with my blood sugar. Rogers scratched at my side and whimpered, and I sat up.

Maybe it was the blood rushing to my head or just the way my body was reacting to all the stress and grief, but right then I smelled the sweetest odor I have ever smelled. I never burned candles or had perfume about the place. Mama had a couple of bottles stored away in the closet, I suppose, but it couldn't have been that. The windows were closed and I didn't have a fan or the heater on. It smelled like a mixture of wild lilacs and honeysuckle from heaven.

I went from crying and feeling such despair to actually smiling and laughing. That sweet smell was like God saying to me, “It's all right. I'm here with you.” It smelled just like the house would have smelled when Mary took the perfume, which was called pure nard—and I do not have any idea what
nard
is—and then poured it on the feet of Jesus and wiped his feet with her hair. The Scriptures say the whole house was filled with the aroma. I could imagine the angels asking why anyone would waste perfume on the likes of me, and that was part of why I was laughing and crying at the same time.

I've never told anybody about that because I didn't want to puff myself up or make people think I'm something I'm not. At that moment I just realized it wasn't really about me anymore; it was about God's love and his call.

14

The next day Callie Reynolds came by the house with a couple of paper bags full of food. Part of a ham, fresh Mexican corn bread muffins she had baked that morning, a huge Tupperware container of chili, and even a little chocolate cake she said was low-carb and made with artificial sweetener.

“I know you can't have a lot of desserts, but I also know how much you like it,” she said.

I told her it wasn't so much the sugar; it was the carbs in the cake that got me. “If I dose right, I'm fine.”

All the stuff on the table made it feel like Thanksgiving, and the aroma was almost as good as what I'd experienced the night before.

“Why'd you bring me all this?” I said. I could tell the question hurt her somehow, so I clarified. “I mean, why did you bring it today?”

Her demeanor changed. I think she thought I was upset with her. I didn't feel that way at all. In fact, I was just starving.

“I had half a day off today from work and I asked the Lord what I could do that would make a difference in somebody's life, and you popped into my mind. I knew with all the work you're doing over here, you probably don't have a lot of time to work on supper.”

I took one of the muffins and it was still warm. The thing just kind of melted in my mouth like West Virginia manna. “Well, I'm sure glad you have such a tight relationship with the Almighty. This will keep me for a week.”

I gave her a tour of the house and realized halfway through that I hadn't bathed for a while. She didn't let on, but I had another thing to put on my to-do list. I was wearing the same clothes I'd had on for the last week, but when you live alone, there's not much reason to change. When I got focused on a project, I would go a couple of days lasered in on whatever it was. It was the same when I was a kid, whether it was working on a jigsaw puzzle, an Erector set, or a Heathkit radio.

She made a big deal about everything I showed her, but it looked like rubble. She pointed above the door of Mama's room and asked what the hole was for, and I told her I was wiring the on-air light. “Any time the microphone goes on, that will light up.”

“This is going to be real professional,” she said.

“You have to have an on-air light if you're going to run a radio station.”

“Where did you get it?”

“I've been doing some work for WDGW in town, and the manager offered to pay me in used equipment and a microphone and cable. He said I could have the light outside the production room that didn't work anymore.”

“Can you get it to work again?”

I smiled. “Oh yeah. I can get just about anything to work again. The line from the transmitter up to the tower is coming from them too. They had almost exactly what I needed.”

“This is exciting, Billy. It's like the Lord is making all this happen.”

“I've been working hard, but I can tell you he's the one providing. He even provided the food.”

She laughed at that. The tour didn't take that long, and we walked outside to her car. There was a chill in the air, and she crossed her arms and stood by her car door. I thanked her again for her kindness and bringing the food.

“You're more than welcome, Billy.” She put a hand to her head like she was nervous about something. “I was wondering . . . as involved as you're getting with the station and getting it up and running, I was trying to think of some way I could help out. You know, support you. I don't have money to buy equipment, and I don't know much about radio stations, but I do know how to cook.”

“Well, I agree with that.”

“How about if I cooked for you? Just packaged things up for your meals through the week. I'd freeze it and you could store it and then follow the directions? ‘Put such and such in the oven at 350 for an hour'—that kind of thing. If you can wire up a whole radio station, you should be able to do that.”

My heart jumped as soon as she said it, but then I started thinking about the old camel's nose under the tent. If I let her do all this, what else would she want? And how much would I owe her? There was no part of me that was romantically interested, but I'll admit my stomach was having second thoughts.

“I think it's a great idea, but I wouldn't want you to do all that for no pay. It wouldn't be right.”

She crooked her head back one way and then the other. “No way. You hush your mouth. I wouldn't take one red cent for helping you.”

“Then I can't accept. It wouldn't be right for me to just take from you.”

She leaned back against her car and I could tell she was hurt. “You took the gift from Dr. Rogers, didn't you? What was different about that and what I'm offering?”

“How'd you hear about that?”

“The pastor told me.”

I thought about it a minute. “Well, I guess there's not much of a difference in practice, but you'd be coming here every week and giving me stuff instead of a one-time check. It doesn't seem right.”

“So it's a matter of your pride. You don't want a woman coming around doing things for you.”

“No, it's not that. I just don't want to take advantage of you.”

She looked away and then put her hands on her hips. “Billy. I'm investing in the work you're doing just like Dr. Rogers did. I want to be part of the blessing this is going to be. I've told you, I can't write a big check. But the Lord impressed on me that my gift is making food. It's something I can do.”

“And where are you going to get the money for all that food?”

“I plant a garden every year. You know my daddy has cattle on his farm. I get a portion of beef from him that just sits in that big old freezer of theirs. Now for you to refuse this gift is downright cruel.”

I was beginning to see her point and I felt bad that I had offended her. The longer I waited to speak, the more uncomfortable the silence became.

“I won't force my food on you anymore. I just think it's a shame you won't take something the Lord is offering you.” She opened her car door, then looked back. “Is it that you think you'll have to start liking me? I've resigned myself to the fact that you don't care in that way.”

I put up a hand but she wasn't finished.