‘Old man Jackson’ dropped me off at the street like he usually does. He never pulls up in the parking lot. I went inside and smelled the vomit that sometimes meets me on Sunday afternoon. I checked on mama and found she was sleeping well and figured I had several hours before she would come around again. I headed to my favorite Sunday spot for listening to gossip. Goldstein’s Drug Store. It is in a real old building with black and white and red cubes on the outside of the building. It’s really ugly, but they have a good fountain, so I like to go there. The owner is a Jew and opens on Sunday and closes on Saturday. Besides Dairy Queen, Goldstein’s is about the only thing in town opened on Sundays. Except for the three gas stations.
What was funny about walking from the Sunset to Goldstein’s, is that I walked right past the Dairy Queen that I was just whisked away from. I walked on the other side of the wide street so no one would see me. It looked like everyone was still there, except for Collette. And I just realized something, I didn’t see her on my walk back. She must have made real good time and gotten back to the Sunset while I was inside gagging on mama’s throw-up.
Mr. Goldstein knows about mama, and our situation, so he always gives me half price on anything at the bar. I got some more ice cream, grabbed the newspaper so people would think I was busy and not be listening to them, and sat down in my favorite table number five. Above my head was a huge fake plant that had been there since before I was born, I guess. Dust was all over it, but it kept me hidden. When I sat at Goldstein’s, I didn’t look up much and see who was talking. I just took it all in. It could be quite interesting. And I knew today would be especially interesting, considering the new pastor coming to town, and Jake and Collette kind of rocking the boat.
“…plopped themselves right down on the front row in front of Inez. Saw it myself.”
“Did she really look that bad?” asked the second lady who must have been a Methodist or something.
“He looked like some kind’a ‘Hell’s Angel’ biker hippie. Tattoos all over his body.”
“You saw all over his body?”
“Of course not! But every inch of his arms and neck and even part of one of his ears. And that shaved head…”
“Maybe he’s been through cancer treatments. You know, Maxine lost all her hair.”
“No. I’ve seen drug dealers on those real cop shows that looked more clean-cut than him. If he comes selling drugs around my grandkids, I’ll put a 45 slug in him. And that…that girlfriend he was with. Looked like a prostitute.”
“I heard she was the prettiest thing to step foot in your church in two decades.”
“If you call sleaze pretty. I tell you, most of what she had from her belt to her chin was uncovered. I bet that chiropractor over in Marsdale is going to have extra business this week from all the whiplash that went on when she walked in. I had to punch my Oliver three times to stop staring at her.”
“Where do you think they came from?”
“I don’t know. But I heard they were living at the Sunset, and you know what goes on over there.”
A few minutes later a new set of people came in and sat down behind me. I could tell this was going to be a ‘Riverstone Baptist, new pastor, and Jake and Collette’ kind of gossip day. Nobody talked about anything else.
“You better believe they are running from the law. Just look at them. Look at where they are living.”
It used to bother me a whole lot when people used to talk about the Sunset, but I’ve gotten used to it. And what can I say about my mom. I do love her, and she takes care of me and feeds me, and she doesn’t get drunk and go out fighting the town like some.
“I wouldn’t doubt they were runnin’ drugs.”
“I’m sure of that.”
“And if he was some fancy welder, why stay in a dump like that. Those guys make $30.00 to $35.00 bucks an hour. He could afford the Hilton.”
Mr. Goldstein lifted himself over the counter and spoke harshly. “I don’t have any idea who you two are talking about, but the customers I have that stay at the Sunset pay in cold hard “George Washington” dollar bills just like you do. And speaking of the Sunset, it is the only motel within 35 miles of here. The nearest Hilton is 120 miles away. Maybe it was their only choice.”
“Well, I never…” was all I heard as the two ladies left.
A few minutes later a group of four farmers walked in. None of them went to Riverstone.
“…And my wife has been on the phone for the last thirty minutes with Inez. I think those poor people over at the Baptist Church are about to lose a pastor and he hasn’t been there but half a day.” He said it with a delight in his voice. “Yep, they average keeping one about two years before running him off. It looks like maybe two weeks or two days might be a new record.”
A real deep voice joined in. “Fill me in guys. I was out of town this weekend and just drove back in. What happened?”
Another man answered. “It seems that their new pastor and his wife got real buddy-buddy with this skanky looking couple and much of the town is ready to string him up. This…how shall I say it? This man and lady, nobody knows if they are even married, came to Riverstone this morning and they have what we call around here, ‘questionable lifestyles.’ He was some biker guy and she looked like a tramp. The pastor and his whole family ate with them just an hour ago. Alice Holman swore she saw the preacher’s wife slip the lady a $50.00 bill right before she got mad and stormed out of Dairy Queen. ‘Old man Jackson’ said something to make her mad and she left without her husband.”
Wow, I thought I was the only one who called him, ‘Old man Jackson’. I wonder what his first name is anyway.
“You don’t think the preacher’s wife was buying something from her do you?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never even laid eyes on any of these new people.”
“Inez said the preacher even said ‘hello’ to the man right from the pulpit. She said she would demand a recall vote on the new preacher. She said they obviously made a mistake calling this preacher.”
“Well, I’ve never set foot in Riverstone Baptist Church, but I have good connections, and they say Inez has had a hand in just about every pastor leaving that church. I think she is a shriveled old lady.”
Two very nicely dressed ladies walked in and the farmers scattered. They didn’t sit at the tables and eat anything, but they did look at the jewelry and I could hear from where I sat.
“I’m serious, I just talked to Roger down at the police station and he was told to run a background check on those two. Nobody is sure who they are and what their plans are. It all looks too fishy.”
“My cousin is a cop in Nashville, and he says you can’t find a criminal history on someone just because you want to. You have to arrest them first.”
“Well, Roger says he does it all the time. When the police chief asked him to, that is.”
I finally got tired of listening and started walking home. When I turned into the parking lot, I saw Jake and Collette sitting in lawn chairs outside of #12. I went to talk to them. I wouldn’t dare tell them about all the talk I heard today. They seem like really nice people, at least Jake does and I wouldn’t want to upset him any. I think she is OK, just kind of quiet. I did notice she was wearing something different. Something a little less ‘chilly’.
“Hey sport,” Jake called out to me when he saw me.
“Hi.”
“Where have you been? I’m sorry you had to leave early. I did my ‘world famous’ Hoss Cartwright impression and had everyone laughing. I do pretty good.”
“I like your sweater, ma’am,” I said, looking toward Collette.
“Thank you. Mrs. Anderson just left here and she gave me about six items of clothes to get me by until I can buy some more. She said she would ask around to some of the church members and see if they had some also. But if all the members of that church are like that friend of yours, you can just count me out. I’ll probably never go back there, or any church. I know I don’t fit in, but he was the rudest man I have met in a long time.”
“I’m sorry ma’am. He’s not really my friend. He’s just the guy from the church in charge of bringing us ‘bus kids’ to Riverstone. Usually it is just me. Sometimes Brandi and SherryAnn. But mostly just me. I’m sorry he was rude.”
“Me too.”
“I guess ya’ll met Inez. ‘Rude Queen’ of town.”
“No, I guess not…I’m sorry, I don’t even know if we ever caught your name,” said Jake.
“Randy Simpson, and yes you did meet her. She was the old lady in the second row who wouldn’t let you sit beside her this morning.”
“Oh, yeah. I guess we did meet. Maybe she didn’t feel well this morning,” Jake added.
“No, she’s rude like that just about every Sunday.”
“Maybe we need to pray for Miss Inez. We could all use a little prayer,” said Jake.
“Mister!” Somebody yelled from across the parking lot. I looked up and saw Amanda, the weekend manager of the Sunset. “Are you Jake?”
“Yes I am. How can I help you?”
“Someone called the office asking about you and asked me to leave you a message.” Jake looked at Collette, then me, and then back at Amanda.
“Did you write it down?” he asked her, reaching out his hand.
“No. She didn’t even leave her name. I don’t know who it was, but they told me to pass it on that you and your…wife, I won’t tell you what they called her, that ya’ll were not welcome at Riverstone Baptist anymore and to not…I think this is the way she put it…to not darken the doorstep there again. And then she hung up. Honest, I don’t know who it was. I didn’t recognize her voice. Hey fella, you’re in a room by yourself. Is your wife even here with you?”
“I’m not married, ma’am.” I could tell that Jake had a hard time saying it. It made him kind of sad, I think. “They must have meant Collette, here. She was my special guest this morning.”
“Some special guest I turned out to be. It will be a cold day in…”
“Heck.”
“…yeah. A cold day before I go back there.” Jake was trying to protect me from her bad language I guess. I hear it all the time. I do live in a cheap motel.
“I’m not trying to force you to go back, but I will give them another chance,” said Jake. “I know you and I both don’t quite fit their mold for average church going people. I’ll go back for Ron’s sake. I think he and his wife have a good heart, and I will honor them by going back, no matter who tells me not to. My main goal is just to worship my Lord. Do you know, Randy, if Riverstone meets on Sunday nights also?”
“Sure. At seven o’clock. Hey I got to go check on my mom. Amanda, I hope she is sob…I hope she is feeling well when you are ready to leave.”
“See you, little guy,” I heard Jake say as I walked toward #15.
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