“Yes, ma’am,” the tall man said. “And after that, J. Wilbur Chaplain is gonna be in Saraland. Revival is hitting Alabama.”

The short man said, “Glory.”

“The Lord sayeth,” the tall man went on, “that the wicked shall perish, ma’am, and perish they shall if they reject the goodness of the Lord and all his power.”

“Revival’s hitting Alabama,” said the short man.

“Glory,” said the tall man.

“What is a revival?” she said. “Ain’t never heard of one.”

“Preaching of the full gospel,” said the tall man. “And singing and praying.”

“And miracles,” added the shorter man.

“Miracles?”

“Yessum, from the Lord Almighty himself.”

“Glory,” said the other man.

“What kinda miracles?” Marigold asked.

“Why, divine healings and salvation of the sinner. The restoration of God’s people on the earth. The union of the Holy Ghost with his people. Revival is coming to Alabama.”

“Mmm-hmm, sure is. Glory.”

The tall man said, “‘For the Lord saith unto thou—’”

“No, not thou,” interrupted the other man. “It’s thee, not thou.”

“Ah, yes. My brother appears to be correct. ‘Draweth nearer unto thee’ . . . Uh . . . I mean ‘thine’ . . . No, that’s not it.”

“Aw, you muffed it, Danny,” said the shorter man. “Let me say it.” The man cleared his throat. “‘Draweth nearer unto thine and he shall’—that is—‘thee, and ye shall’ . . . I mean, ‘he shall’ . . . Uh . . . ‘Thy will be done’ . . . No. Aw, hellfire, that’s not it either.”

“See, Phillip?” said the tall man. “You don’t know it no better than I knows it, you big fathead.”

“Don’t call me a fathead,” said the shorter man in a whisper. “We’re bearing witness.”

The tall man pulled a small book from his pocket and began riffling through the pages. After a few minutes, he finally said, “Pardon the confusion. Here it is, ma’am: ‘Draw nigh unto God, and he shall draweth nigh unto thee. Cleanseth your hands, ye sinners . . .’” The man stopped reading and looked at Marigold’s pruny hands. “‘Ye wicket, wicket sinners, and purify your hearts.’”

“What’s nigh mean?” asked Marigold.

This clearly confused the men. “Well,” said the short man. “It means sorta like tither or hither.”

“Really?” said the tall man. “I never knew that. What’s the difference?”

The short man gave a sour look to his friend. “There’s lots of tithers in the Bible, ma’am, and a few hithers. You know, it’s just the way God wanted it.”

“Glory,” said the tall man.

“Anyway, ma’am,” said the short man. “We come to tell you that we have a van that’ll come pick you up tomorrow and take you to service if the Lord doth press it upon your heart. And if you have a mind to go see J. Wilbur Chaplain next weekend, we’re picking up saints and sinners from as far away as Coffeeville.”