About a mile and a half down the Masardis Road from my grandfather Colbath's house was a small wooden structure that was the Pentecostal Church. At the time of my growing up years it had been painted white with a green trim and there was a small black cross nailed to the wood just above the front door. This structure held a great deal of interest to us Stevens' kids because we passed it each and every day on our way to and from school.
We knew a little bit about the other churches in our small community because our Mother had sometimes sent some of her eight kids to one bible camp or another during the long summer months in Aroostook County. But we really were curious about this church because none of our relatives ever went there. Sometimes, we overheard the adults talking about the Pentecostal Church and we knew that the people who went there were called "Holy Rollers." But just why this was, we didn't know.
Mother and Dad had no true religion. Dad always said that "More wars were fought in the name of God or religion than for anything else." And he felt that it was better for us to wait till we grew up and then let us decide for ourselves what we wanted to be. They wouldn't discuss with us what being a "Holy Roller" meant no matter how many times we asked. If we asked them about it, Dad would smile and ignore our questions and Mother would cut to the chase real quick and she would simply tell us to mind our own business.
There were seven churches in our small area that made up the towns of Ashland, Sheridan, Masardis, Squa Pan and Garfield Plantation and since we didn't belong to any of them, everyday, when school was in session, it was hell to ride the school bus. We were told time and time again by all the church going kids that because we didn't go to church, we were really and truly going to burn in hell! The Catholic kids all happily assured us that we'd be real lucky to get into purgatory if we died, since we weren't even baptized.
In nineteen fifty-nine, I was thirteen and one of my best friends was a girl named Anna McCory. Her whole family belonged to the Pentecostal Church and she had to go to church three times a week and twice on Sundays. She wasn't allowed to dance, wear makeup, talk to boys or go to the movies.
Her family lived on the Masardis Road, just past the Squa Pan Bridge and when our school bus pulled into the McCory driveway, Anna would always board the bus in a manner befitting a lady, especially if her very strict Mother happened to be watching from the front window. But the moment the bus doors closed, a grand transformation took place. She'd let out a whoop and spotting me, she'd head for my seat. Then, she'd throw down her books and hike up her skirt. She'd pull her long dark hair up into a makeshift pony tail and unbutton the top of her Banlon sweater. Next she'd grab my pocketbook and rummage around in it until she found all of my makeup. Within fifteen minutes, she'd be transformed from a plain, dowdy teenager into a girl so totally different that even her parents wouldn't have recognized her!
For a girl who wasn't allowed to talk to boys, she flirted outrageously with all the boys on our bus. She especially liked my red-headed brother Jake but he wasn't really interested in girls yet. Anna would jump up out of her seat and head in Jake's direction as soon as she spotted him. She'd throw herself into the seat next and try to hug and kiss him. She'd drape one arm around his neck and it would take Jake all the way to school before he could get her to let go of him.
Jake was the last of my brothers to discover girls and he didn't want any part of any girls. Anna and I used to concoct elaborate plans so that she could get to stay over at our house so she could chase after Jake. If I asked Mother if Anna could come and stay and Jake found out about the impending visit, he'd threaten to pound the piss out of me. Or, even worse, he'd retaliate by telling me that if Anna came to stay, he was going to invite Gordy McDonnell, a boy I really couldn't stand, to come and stay with him, just to get even.
I detested Gordy! He had such creepy, disgusting ways. Gordy had the misfortune of having very severe acne and if that wasn't bad enough, combine it with halitosis that would scald the eyebrows right off your face and you had a really disgusting combination. If you met Gordy outside, you'd always train yourself to mentally check to see which way the wind was blowing before you stopped to talk with him. He had a habit of talking real fast and at the end of his little speech, he'd let out a huge puff of air that he'd blow right into your face. This fetid blast was so putrid that most people, after having been breathed on once, tried never be caught by him again.
Gordy was our "secret" weapon for the Ashland boy's basketball team. If we had a big game scheduled against our archrival, Fort Kent, we knew that we were going to win for sure if Gordy was playing. Mr. Grant, the senior boy's basketball coach, had learned early on that if the opposing team had a foul shot coming up, he'd tell Gordy to get up as close as he could in the other guy's face and guard him real close. Once Gordy breathed on him, the other player wouldn't stand a chance of making the shot.
His face was always awaiting an eruption. Worse yet, he used his horrific skin condition as a weapon if he didn't like someone. If he thought you'd offended him in some way, he'd nurse a huge pimple along for a couple of days and then he'd position himself so that you couldn't get away from him. He'd reach up and squeeze his largest zit and squirt it at you. God! That was awful! Need-less-to-say, everyone always tried not to offend Gordy. Anna didn't know it but because of Gordy, she didn't get to stay at our house too often.
All the kids at Ashland community High School knew that Gordy had a secret hiding place and all the girls tried to avoid that place as much as possible. Gordy, thinking that no one would remember where he was hiding, would duck into the storage closet in the Chemistry Room and wait until one of us girls happened to be standing next to the closet door. He'd ever so quietly open the door, grab the unsuspecting victim and haul her into the closet with him. He'd quickly feel any and all parts that were available to him while the unwitting victim tried to get away. Screaming and swearing would erupt from the closet and the door would fly open and an angry, disheveled girl would explode from the closet like a cannonball from hell!
Sometimes, Gordy in his rush to cop a "feel," would open the door and grab the nearest victim without really seeing who it was. And that would be a nearly fatal mistake on his part. Sometimes it would be a member of the girl's basketball team and since she was in much better physical condition than he was, she'd pound the piss out of the little pervert! Kids said that it was bad enough to see Gordy's face under "normal" conditions but it was really disgusting when his glasses were all twisted and broken and there was blood all over his face! For a little while after that, all the girls would breathe a sigh of relief and know that they'd be safe from another molestation, at least for a while.
Since we lived about five miles apart, every-so-often Anna and I would make plans to meet on the Masardis Road, about halfway between each other's homes. We'd spend the hours laughing and fooling around by the side of the road. We invented silly games that we'd play by the hour.
One of Anna's favorites was what we called "Husbands." We'd hide in the tall grass by the side of the road until a vehicle came along. The object of the game was that you were going to marry the first driver who drove by. Sometimes, you'd get lucky and the driver would be really handsome and other times, you'd get a toothless old fart. Upon seeing who we'd gotten for a husband-to-be, we'd collapse into the grass in fits of laughter. I'm sure that the drivers who passed by would see us in their rear-view mirrors falling into the tall grass and holding our sides in laughter and wonder what the hell we were doing. Life with Anna was never dull. She had more spirit than all of us put together. She was absolutely full of life and you never knew what she was going to do next.
Because Anna had to go to church so often, I used to ask her what exactly did she do when she was there. Hearing my question, she'd look at me like I was a complete and utter fool and reply, "Well, what do you think people do when they go to church?" "Well." I answered. "I know what most people do but you have to admit that your church is a little different." "How is my church so different?" She asked. I looked at her and mumbled that everyone knew that they were "Holy Rollers." Anna looked at me and then she laughed but she never, ever told me what it was exactly, that they did there.
We used to hear all kinds of stories about what went on in that little, white country church. Some people said that old Mr. McCory, Anna's father, overcome with love for the Lord, would jump out of his seat and dance a little jig all around the church while the rest of the congregation cried and screamed "Hallelujah!" or "Praise the Lord!" at the top of their lungs.
Other people said that sometimes during high holy nights, all the lights in the church were extinguished and the members lit candles and danced up and down the aisles with them all the while singing praises to the Lord. It was rumored that some of the people even took off all their clothes and danced stark, naked all around the church. Others said that the "Holy Rollers" had gotten their nickname because they often got down on the floor and rolled around in fits of holy spiritual passion.
It was even rumored that old, Mr. McCory was such a powerful preacher that every now and then, he'd cast a "spell" on some of the church goers and they'd fall down on the floor in a dead faint. People said that some of these "Holy Rollers," while under the influence of the religious spell, even talked in a tongue that no one else could understand!
When we went to bed at night, we used to discuss these exciting rumors over and over again. Jake finally admitted that he didn't have too much use for religion, especially after our summer camp fiasco, but if he ever got the chance to go and see what really happened at the Pentecostal Church, he sure hoped that it was on a night when they all got naked and rolled around on the floor and he sure hoped that Anna would be there too!
Copyright (1st Rights) retained by the author, Martha Stevens-David 2002. She can be reached at lmdmsd@megalink.net.
