" Butter's melting and syrups's trickling down the pancakes; better get on out to the table. Opie, you aren't dressed for Sunday School."
" I ain't going, Aunt Bea. I don't feel so good. "
"Opie Taylor, last Sunday you stayed home and told us you were coming down with one of the seven plagues of Egypt, maybe even all seven! But somehow Sunday afternoon came round, the fishing pole appeared outa nowhere and miracle of miracles, you were healed. Now get on out of that bed while I get your Pa ...Andy, Opie says he's sick again ...."
"What's wrong, son? You don't look feverish to me. This will be twice in a row you missed your Sunday School class. Is it 'cause Helen's your teacher? Do the kids tease you 'cause Helen and I are sweet on each other?"
"Nah, that don't bother me none, Pa. I like Miss Helen and all them stories she tells from the Bible ... like the stick turning into a snake and toes and fingers rotting right off their bones by leprechauns."
"I think you mean leprosy."
"Uh huh, But I just cain't go to Sunday School anymore ... and you and Aunt Bea shouldn't go neither."
"Opie, Aunt Bea sings in the Senior Choir and I lead the Mayberry Men's Ministry class. We look forward to Sundays."
"Well, I just ain't going, Pa."
"All right, Opie, but I'm staying home with you and we're gonna sit right-'chere' on your bed and get to the bottom of this , but first I gotta go call Barney."
"Sarah, can ya get me Barney, please? Yes, Sarah, Aunt Bea's fine, she took that laxative last night ... what's that? Yes, I think Fluffy will be okay. Was the bumblebee alive or dead when she swallowed her? Well, in that case, give her a fresh bowl of cold water. Put me through to Barney, will ya? ..."
"Hey Barn. Opie's not feeling well. Can you take over my class this morning and come round here to pick up Aunt Bea? No, he ain't really sick, Barn. No, he likes his class. No, no, don't come over to talk to him about the devil and hellnation, I'll handle it. See you in a bit. Uh huh. Hey to Thelma Lou, too."
"Now, Opie, we need to ... wait, let me go back and answer that phone ... golleeeee, I just hung it up ..."
"Hello? Hey there, Floyd. No Opie's not joining that cult that was in the Raleigh Observer. It's only been two Sundays ... well, Sarah ought not to eavesdrop and spread gossip. Yes, I know the Barbershop Quartet from Mt. Pilot is coming to sing 'I'll Fly Away' at the potluck after church. You enjoy them without me this time, Floyd. Yes, Floyd, I think you're good 'nough to sing with them. Uh huh. To you and yours, too. Bye now."
"Pa, does Preacher Johnson know what he's talkin' about?"
"Come on out from under the covers and look at me, boy. Well, now, I think he's a pretty good ole preacher, but there's once in a coon's age I disagree with him. Why?"
"The last Sunday we was in church, he said it real loud and strong!"
"He said that going to Sunday School won't get us into heaven."
"Hmm,I tend to agree with him on that one."
"Then you see now, don't ya, Pa, why I cain't go to Sunday School?"
"No, I don't think I follow you ..."
"Well, if I go to Sunday School I won't go to heaven, but if ..."
"You stay home, you will. I see."
"That's right, Pa, and I don't won't you and Aunt Bea to go neither."
"Son, let's get them fishing poles and head on down to the lake. We'll see if there's any fish in schools on Sunday."
"Ah, that's a knee slapper, Pa."
"And while we're there ... we're gonna have a long talk about how to get into heaven. That sound good, son?"
"Real good, Pa."
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