Free Showdown by Ted Dekker

and quiet, but when he did speak, people listened. Except for Katie, of course. Funny how he ended up with Katie, who didn’t have a conservative bone in her body. Big Claude and beautiful Katie.
    Yordon thought all of this on the fly, in the same way all preachers think a thousand thoughts on the fly while looking out at their congregations.
    Black lowered his voice a notch and continued. “So here I am,my friends. Here I am. And I assure you not one of you will remain unchanged when we’re through here. Not a one.”
    The preacher let the words ring through the auditorium. At first no one responded. They just stared at him, some skeptical, some eager.
    â€œHow do we know what kind of power you really have?” Steve asked. His voice rumbled through the silence.
    Black did not respond.
    â€œOr if it’s really real?” someone else shouted.
    This time a chorus of that’s rights and amens filled the room. Good. As Yordon knew they would, most of his people weren’t buying Black’s nonsense.
    â€œShut . . . your worthless traps,” Black bit off. Not loudly, but distinctly and with a slight quaver.
    The words took the breath out of the room.
    â€œAnd consider it a warning, because the man of God can only take so much doubt.”
    Silence.
    Black softened. “Chris Ingles, rise.”
    Chris jumped to his feet.
    â€œShow them your ear.”
    Ingles jerked his right ear forward and those closest to him strained for a view. “You had a wart behind your ear?” Black asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd now it’s gone, isn’t that right?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    Black put both hands on the podium and studied the congregation. Chris sat.
    â€œDid I tell you to sit, Chris?” Black’s voice was low, deep. Threatening.
    Chris stood.
    â€œStick out your tongue, Chris.”
    Chris blinked, as if he hadn’t heard right.
    â€œGo on, son. Stick out your tongue for everyone to see.”
    Chris hesitated then thrust his tongue out.
    Yordon leaned to his right for a better view.
    Gasps filled the pews nearest Chris, who jerked his hand to his mouth and felt his tongue.
    â€œAhhhh!” Chris jerked his hand away. “Ahhhh!”
    â€œHe’s got a huge wart on his tongue!” someone blurted. Cries of alarm filled the auditorium.
    â€œWhadth happen?” Chris slurred, and Yordon wondered how large this supposed wart was.
    â€œShut up! Sit down.”
    Chris was feeling his tongue again. “What—”
    â€œI said shut up! Sit down!”
    Chris dropped to his seat.
    â€œWhat I give, I can take, see?” Black let that settle in.
    Yordon was sure the preacher hadn’t actually healed Chris. Now he had his proof. He should be standing about now and confronting Black head-on. But he didn’t.
    â€œDo I have your attention?” Black asked.
    No one answered.
    â€œI said, do I have your attention? ”
    Dozens of yeses came at once.
    â€œGood. Now, when I say that I’ve come to bring grace and hope, I may mean something altogether different than what you think. My kind of grace and hope is full of life, my friends. A real trip. Not that you have to agree with my definitions of these two most holy words. I’m not here to ram anything down your throats, no sir. But we’re on dangerous ground here, and I strongly suggest you pay attention.”
    Black walked to his right where a pewter goblet that he’d requested sat on the altar. No bread or crackers, just a goblet filled with wine. For communion, he’d said.
    Yordon had filled the goblet with grape juice.
    â€œBefore we learn how grace and hope will change your lives,” Black said, lifting the goblet,“we’re going to remember.”He held the cup out.“Remember how things were before grace and hope came to town.”
    He sniffed the contents, paused for a moment, then seemed to accept
Yordon’s