Chapter 19

I need to get serious about my summer goals. The tree house isn’t finished, I still have more than four hundred people to invite to church, and my toothbrush has proven more elusive than I expected. Maybe HHH is sneaking into my house and hiding it.

I also need to get a new bike lock.

I just added that last goal, but it will have to wait.

I decide to wake up super early and spend the entire morning inviting people to church. Yes, I’m still sleepy, but this is important. I ride my bike to a neighbor’s house and knock.

“Good morning!” I say. “I’m Bob, and I’d like to invite you to my church.”

“First of all, you missed the morning by several minutes,” the man replies. “It’s already past noon. Second of all, I don’t go to church.”

The man starts to close the door, but not before I ask, “Why don’t you go to church? That is, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I do mind,” he says, “but I’ll answer anyway. Church is full of mean people and hypocrites.”

Ah, a challenge! And I know exactly how to respond.

“Sir, I can positively tell you that we don’t have any half eagle/half horses at our church.”

The man laughs. “No, that’s a hippogriff. A hypocrite is a person who says one thing but does the opposite. Church people always act so perfect.”

“But we aren’t,” I explain. “The Bible says we’re all sinners. It’s only by believing in Jesus and following Him that we get better. Also, you said it’s all mean people at church. Well, do you think I’m mean?”

“I guess not,” he replies. “You don’t know what time of day it is, but you seem nice enough. Wait, do I know you? Are you that kid who got stuck on the school flagpole last year?”

Sometimes it’s nice to be famous. But this isn’t one of those times, so I get us back on topic.

“All I’m saying is that I’m fairly nice and I go to church. So maybe not everyone who goes to church is mean. Maybe you just had a bad experience. When was the last time you were at church?”

He pauses to think. Then he says a year that begins with nineteen. We both realize that was a long, long time ago.

“Would you be willing to try it again?” I ask.

To my surprise, he says he will!

I’m so happy that I jump off his porch and climb on my bike. This day is going great! Just 461 more people to go. I pedal to the next house and knock confidently on the door.

The door opens and the man says, “Hello, Bob. Do you need something?”

“I . . . oh! Hey, Pastor.”

I live in a small town, but I still don’t know where everyone lives. And since I’m already there, I invite my pastor and his wife to try out their church this Sunday.

“I will be preaching,” he laughs, “so I definitely plan to be there.”

Only 459 left. I’m on a roll now! I get back on my bike. It’s a long way down my pastor’s driveway, so I decide to cut through the yard to the next house. That’s when I remember it’s rude to ride your bike on people’s lawns. Plus they might have a hidden clothesline strung between two trees.

Once I get off the ground, I climb back on my bike and decide to take a break before hitting more houses . . . and clotheslines. I head to the grocery store to browse their Band-Aid options for my forehead. I walk inside and look for the first aid section. That’s when I hear a booming voice:

Attention shoppers. We’d like to remind you that broccoli is on sale today for one dollar off. There are lots of things you can cook with broccoli, so think about grabbing some while this sale lasts! Thank you for shopping at MegaMart.

I start laughing. The store manager, like everyone else with taste buds, is obviously trying to get rid of his extra broccoli. And a dollar off? That’s not much of a sale. If they really want to get rid of some broccoli, they should offer to pay customers a dollar to carry it out with them.

I also laugh every time I hear the store’s name. My town is tiny, but our grocery store has a big name. MegaMart! The store only has twelve aisles. What the manager should announce is: Welcome to MegaMart. We can probably hold at least thirty people if everyone sucks in their stomach.

That’s when it hits me. Another brilliant idea! I walk past all twelve aisles while counting the number of shoppers. This isn’t easy because my noggin is still ringing from the clothesline. However, I conclude that there are twenty-eight people in the store right now.

I glance at the area where the manager makes his announcements. It’s a desk on a raised platform near the checkout counter. The desk is empty, probably because the manager is busy firing whoever ordered all that broccoli.

This is my chance! I run over to the manager’s desk. I fling open the swinging door that stands between me and the microphone.

“Ouch!” I quietly yell. Evidently I opened the door with too much fling power, and it swung back against my shinbone. Once the pain subsides a bit, I speak into the manager’s microphone:

Attention shoppers, today we’re running a different kind of special. A good one this time. It’s on bundles of joy and happiness. This sale takes place at Abundant Grace Church every Sunday morning at 10:30. The best part is that it’s totally free, but you must bring yourself to get in. (I pause so everyone can laugh at my joke.) No coupon needed. Again, that’s every Sunday at Abundant Grace—

That’s as far as I get before the manager appears out of nowhere. He takes the microphone from my hand.

“What do you think you’re doing up here, young ma—” he begins. He takes a closer look at me. “Hey, aren’t you the kid who got stuck on the school flagpole?”

I don’t get it. I do tons of cool stuff. But you get stuck on one flagpole and that’s all people seem to remember about you.

“Sorry, sir. I’m looking for the broccoli,” I joke. “I heard there’s a sale.”

The manager doesn’t laugh. Instead he gives me a lecture about respecting other people’s property. He says the microphone is only meant for official MegaMart announcements.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asks.

“Do you want to come to my church?” I smile. “We meet on Sunday mornings at 10:30.”

Just 430 people left!