Read Online Have A Little Faith In Me by Brad Vance - Free Book Online Page A

to cheat on their taxes.  No, it was sex that was the Reverend’s preoccupation.
    So in a way, Norman didn’t really see the harm in the little white lie.  His grandmother told them all the time to her friends, after all.  “You look lovely in that dress,” she’d say to Miss June when she showed up in a bright peach sundress that made her look like, well, a giant peach. 
    “I’m going to Korey’s to study,” he said.  And it was true, wasn’t it?  He was studying his ears off listening to Barrett Springfield’s enormous record collection.
    And Faith was so relieved that he had a friend that she didn’t question it.  She’d met Korey’s aunt, who was responsible for him while his father was out of town, touring with various bands or playing recording sessions in Memphis or Nashville or Detroit.  Korey’s Aunt Marie was a devout Christian and a member in good standing of the Second Coming Ministry, and that was enough for Faith.
    What she didn’t know, and Norman felt no need to tell her, was that Korey was a latchkey kid, living alone in his father’s house while he was away.  His aunt was a good Christian, and was responsible for him…should Social Services ever ask.  But she had given up on making surprise inspections on Saturday nights, only to find Korey doing the same thing every time – listening to music alone.  So she was, in truth, just as relieved as Faith was for Norman that the boy finally had a friend.
    “You live here…alone?” Norman asked, disbelievingly.
    Korey shrugged, no big deal.  “Mostly.  Dad’s gone a lot.  My aunt doesn’t want me underfoot, anyway, and she knows I’m fine here.  Not exactly a party animal, you know.”
    Norman laughed.  “No, me neither.”
    In a way he was lucky that Barrett Springfield’s collection was vinyl-only.  Korey had been raised to believe that the CD was an abomination in the eyes of the Lord, and subscribed to this tenet as ardently as his father.  What this meant for Norman was that his musical education could start at the beginning.  Not everything had been rediscovered yet, put on CD, put online.  There was still so much music that lived only on the platters.
    “We’ll begin with Genesis, so to speak,” Korey said, taking very seriously his responsibility for raising Norman’s musical knowledge properly.  “Not the band, mind you.”
    “Are they a Christian band?  I’ve never heard of them.”
    Korey snorted, then regretted it.  The kid had been in musical exile all his life, so every question would be a “dumb question” to start. 
    “No, they’re not.”  He reached for a Verve records collection of early jazz.  “Before you get to rock and roll, you have to know jazz…”
     
    “No, you don’t want that,” Korey admonished Norman as he reached for a record.  “That’s disco.  Disco sucks.”
    “No, it doesn’t,” Norman said, surprising both of them.  For a month now, he’d been a sponge, just soaking up everything indiscriminately.  He had the greatest musical gift of all, a naïveté of taste so complete that he had no prejudice against any form of music until he’d heard it.
    “Dude.  You don’t like rap, you don’t like punk, you don’t like metal.  But you love disco.”
    Norman nodded.  He did!  There were so many genres that just…hurt his ears.  He didn’t like being shouted at, he didn’t like the guitars that sounded like feedback or nails or chalkboard.  He liked the Beatles, he liked the Stones, even though they scared him a little.  (Korey had judiciously skipped over “Sympathy for the Devil.”) 
    What he’d really liked was R&B and soul and Motown and now, of course, he liked disco.  He loved “I Will Survive” and “I Love the Nightlife” and “Born To Be Alive” and “Hot Stuff.”  Korey had skipped “Love to Love You, Baby,” if only because of how incredibly awkward it would be for two teenage boys to sit there together, listening to a