Robyn Carr - Forbidden Falls

R ecently ordained minister Noah Kincaid was surfing the Internet, killing time, when quite by chance, he happened to find a church being auctioned on eBayin some little place hed never heard ofVirgin River. He laughed at the very idea, but was intrigued. Hed been waiting patiently for an assignment to a church of his own and thought it couldnt hurt to take a look at the place himself. If nothing else, it would be a good excuse to get out of town for a day and see something different. Hed heard Northern California was very beautiful.

The first thing that struck him was the overwhelming beauty of the mountains, redwoods and rivers. The town was a little washed out and the church was a wreck, but there was a peacefulness and simplicity there he couldnt dismiss. Or forget. It seemed uncomplicated, fresh.

No one really noticed him in the little town; the local men hed seen either had hair shorn in military fashion or ponytails and beards, just like the fishermen Noah had worked with over the years. He fit right inhe wore scuffed boots, his jeans were almost white with wear, ripped here and there, his denim shirt was thin on the elbows and frayed around the collar and cuffs. His black hair was too long and curled over his collar; he planned to get it cut the second he was assigned a church of his own. But for now, he fit right in, looking like any other laborer after a hard days work. He was fit and toned like the local Virgin River men; years of working on a fishing boat and dockside, dragging nets, hauling in tons of fresh catch will do that.

The church had been easy to locate and he hadnt needed a key to get insideit was boarded up and appeared to have been abandoned for years, but the side door wasnt locked. The place had been stripped bare and filled with years of trash, probably litter from transients whod taken shelter there at one time or another. Almost all the windows had been broken before being covered over with plywood. But when he got to the sanctuary, he discovered a stunning stained-glass window, boarded from the outside to keep it safe. It had been left untouched.

Afterward, he had driven the neighborhoods in town, which hadnt taken long, had a cup of coffee at the only eating establishment, snapped a few digital pictures and left. When he got back to Seattle he contacted the woman who was auctioning the church on eBay, Hope McCrea. That church has been boarded up for years, she said in her gravelly voice. This town has been without religion a long time.

You sure the town is in need of religion? Noah asked her.

Not entirely sure, she answered. But it could damn sure use some faith. That church needs to be opened up or razed to the ground. An empty church is bad mojo.

Noah couldnt agree more.

Despite being busy at the college where he taught, Noah couldnt get Virgin River, or that church, out of his mind.

He took the idea of buying the church to the presbytery and found they were already well aware of its existence. He showed them his digital pictures and they agreed, there was great potential. Placing a minister there appealed to them; the population was just the right size to build a congregation and it was the only church in town. But the renovation, not to mention the accoutrements, would put the costs too high. There was no way they had the budget. They thanked Noah sincerely and promised him he would get his own church real soon.

What the presbytery didnt know was that Noah had recently come into some money. To him, a small fortune. He was thirty-five and since the age of eighteen had been slaving and studying. While attending the university, hed worked on boats, docks and in fish markets out of the Port of Seattle. A year ago his mother had passed and, to his surprise, had left him a hefty portion of her inheritance.

So, he offered to lighten the presbyterys financial burden by taking on the renovation costs of the church as a donation if they would see fit to assign him as the pastor. The proposal was an appealing one for the Presbyterian church.

Before closing the deal, Noah called his closest friend, and the man responsible for talking him into the seminary in the first place. George Davenport thought hed lost his mind. George was a retired Presbyterian minister who had been teaching for the last fifteen years at Seattle Pacific University. I can think of a thousand ways for you to throw away that money, George had said. Go to Las Vegas, put it all on red. Or finance your own mission to Mexico. If those people needed a pastor, theyd go looking for one.

Funny that church is still standing there, useless, like its waiting for a rebirth. There must be a reason I happened to see it on eBay, Noah said. Ive never looked at eBay before in my life.

After much debate, George conceded, If its structurally sound and the price is right, it might work out. Youd get a big tax write-off with the donated renovation cost, and a chance to serve a small, poor congregation in a hick mountain town that doesnt get cell-phone reception. Sounds perfect for you.

There is no congregation, George, Noah reminded him.

Then youll have to gather one, son. If anyone can do it, you can. You were born to do it, and before you get all insulted, Im not talking about your DNA. Im talking about pure talent. Ive seen the way you sell fish, I always thought there was a message there. Goits what you want. Open your doors and your heart and give it all youve got. Besides, youre the only ordained minister I know who has two nickels to rub together.

So Noah inked the deal with the presbytery and hoped his mother wasnt spinning in her grave. Truth be told, shed always quietly supported him when, years back, he had been determined as hell to run away from the ministry. She had good reason. Noahs father was a powerful, semifamous televangelistand a cold, controlling man. Noah had run away while his mother could not.