The Urge - Part 15

Wilma was exhausted as she hurriedly threw her shawl on and rushed out the back door. She and Dorn had been up late and she hadn’t gotten much sleep before being woken up by the banging on her back door. 
Andrew’s mother was franticly pulling on her to run faster. Andrew had been found and the village relied on Wilma to know what to do. 
Wilma was rushed past the crowd of people into the small cabin that Andrew and his mother called home. She placed her hand over her mouth and squeezed her brow into the best look of sadness and shock she could muster. 
It wasn’t that Wilma was glad Andrew was dead. She had once enjoyed his company. Andrew’s mother was a close friend and for that reason Wilma was sad. But not shocked. Dorn liked the killing part and Wilma was better at burning the satanic symbol into the cabin floor. 
Wilma sat and comforted her friend for the better part of an hour. She wanted to allow the village time to assemble outside. 
When Wilma decided it had been enough, she pushed the woman into another’s arms, and stepped outside. 
Wilma placed the look of grief back on her face and addressed the people gathered there. 
“Andrew…is dead” she said haltingly. 
In the dim morning light, she could see many of the woman weeping. This is exactly where they needed to be. 
Wilma made quick eye contact with Dorn standing in the back and continued. 
“Andrew was innocent. Andrew was…pure” Wilma choked back tears. “God has spoken to me this morning and he is angry!”
Wilma saw a few nods coming from those gathered before her. 
“We are a selfish and hard hearted people. Are we to deny God what he desires?!” 
“Have we not given enough?” A man asked.
“Enough? Would you like to see the body? Do you speak against God’s will? If it had been enough Andrew would still be alive today. God’s hand has left this village once more and he has handed us over to the devil. Hear now the words of God! Today at noon the village is to gather once more and give to him another sacrifice. Bring all you can spare! Money, jewelry, valuables and the best of your labors. We must not hold back!”
Andrew’s mother came out to the porch then and stood next to Wilma. 
“Please!” she begged “Give him what he wants!”
Wilma turned to her and before all embraced the widow. 
“This woman has lost her husband and two sons. Everyone here has lost someone dear to them. Gather at noon at the fountain and sacrifice to the Lord!”

* * * * *

The entire village was lined up before a chest that sat next to Wilma. As each one gave an offering, Wilma dipped her finger into a bowl of oil and anointed their forehead. 
“May God have mercy on you” she repeated. 
When the line had ended Wilma quickly closed the lid and placed a lock on the chest.
Wilma knelt before the chest and raised her arms to the sky. After a few moments of prayer, she turned to the crowd. “God has accepted your gift!” 
The crowd let out a collective sigh and the people seemed to relax a little bit. 
Wilma motioned and two men came forward to carry the chest. The men grunted slightly as they lifted it up and carried it out of the city. 

What Are You Doing?

Your fixin' to destroy your life what are you doing?
Your too young to think about being a wife what are you doing?
I never thought you'd cause me so much strife what are you doing?
I feel like I'm being shredded by your backstabbing knife what are you
doin?
I never thought this is the path you'd be choosen.
Why do you insist on sinking into ruin?
Why is your behavior so confusin?
Why do I feel like your someone I'm losin'?
Why does my heart ache from the bruisen?
Why do you act like your just crusin?
What kind of fiction are you pursuin'?
Spit out the chunk of lies your chewin?
Cause I don't want to be here for the viewin', you can't see things that
have been proven, but in the midst of all this abusin' I just have one question that
I can't help but keep producin'..
Tell me, please, tell me..What on earth are you doin?

The Urge - Part 14

Brock stood in the middle of the crowd and began to sweat. The plan had been in place for months; he knew exactly what to do. He didn’t like getting hurt, but he knew it would be temporary. Wilma would heal his wounds, and he’d have weeks to recuperate in solitude.
Wilma was going to be great at her part. The plan was rather simple. Brock would climb up to the bull, begin to cut it loose, and fall. The medicine that Wilma had given him would kick in soon and he wouldn’t feel anything. 
The crowd was beginning to stir, so Brock made his move.

* * * * *

Dorn saw Brock move and had to conceal a smile. Everything was going wonderfully. Dorn joined the crowd in crying out as Brock fell to his death. 
The village fell into a panic. Mothers began shielding their children’s faces and several men ran forward to check the body. 
“He’s dead!” yelled Gilford. He was the village minister and the first on Dorn’s list. 

* * * * *

Wilma was also sweating. As Brock began to climb to the top of the fountain, she began to go over the ingredients she had given him. A mixture of herbs and plants designed to stop his heart. Wilma finished her calculations and was content that she had mixed everything correctly. 
As Gilford called out his findings, Wilma began her act. 
She made her way up to the front of the crowd.
“People, listen! Something is not right. The devil must be at work here!” 
The townspeople were so distraught no one seemed to even question her statement. 
“Gilford, I suggest we pray and afterwards we bury the body.”
Gilford was still shaken, but nodded in agreement. 
Gilford began his prayer. “Oh, Father of Heaven and Earth! Protect your people! Shield us from the evil one!” Gilford’s voice trailed off as he began to weep. 
Wilma took up the charge. “And Father, speak to your people. Show us how we may be spared. Amen.”
Gilford gathered himself together and called several of the men to pick up the body. 
Later that day, the entire town came together to bury the body. 
The village cemetery sat outside the village behind the church. The view to the fountain was blocked. 
As the men came forward to lower the body, Dorn and Wilma took special note of who touched it. The connection had to be clear the unmistakable. The village had to believe that the body was cursed. 
The men stopped and Gilford placed his hand on Brock’s wrapped head and prayed for God to gather him into his kingdom. 
Dorn and the others had planned everything. Ellen, however, now acted in a way they did not plan. 
As the men began to lower the body into the shallow grave, Ellen came fourth and stopped them. The village looked on as she placed a single rose on his chest. 
Wilma watched in horror as Ellen’s hand brushed the body. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run over and pull Ellen back. But She didn’t. The plan had to go forward. 
Dorn smiled slightly. This will work wonderfully. The village knew he was to marry Ellen. And his loss was just what he needed to keep all accusations at bay. 

The Urge - Part 13

Miguel groaned as he slowly lifted an eyelid. Pain flashed back and forth across his forehead. He tried to move his arms, but of course he had been tied up. He was lying on his side with what felt like the wall behind him. Miguel only opened his eye briefly before quickly shutting it again. The room was bright and the sudden burst of light made his head cry out in anguish. Miguel lay there for a moment gathering intel. 

He was aware his hands were tied and as he shifted slightly, found his feet to be in similar shackles. He slowly began to open his eye again but could only manage one. His other eye must have been hit. He could feel that it was swollen shut. As his one good eye adjusted to the light, he looked around the best he could. 

He was in a well decorated room with stone floor, walls, and ceiling. He faced the middle of the room and could see a stone pillar in the middle supporting the reservoir above. All around the room were chests. All locked and stacked neatly. It seemed to be some sort of storage, but for what, Miguel couldn’t tell. 

To his left was a small fireplace set into the wall.

Miguel twisted his head slightly and as he did so, his host came into view. 

“You must be Miguel. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Ey, and who might you be?”

The man ignored his question. “Scream and shout all you wish. No one can hear you.”

The man turned away and sat down at a table covered in books. The man began working on something Miguel could not see. 

Several hours passed and the man ignored him completely. Miguel tried several times to make polite conversation with the man, but to no avail. The man ignored him completely. Miguel tried to sleep but his wounds and the uncomfortable floor made it impossible. 

Miguel was halfway into counting the stones in the ceiling, when a knock came at the door. 

From Miguel’s position, he had no line of sight to the door and so he was going to have to rely on his hearing. 

The man stood and went to the door. After a moment, Miguel heard the man release a bolt and heard the door swing open with a slight squeak. 

“Wilma? This is unusual.”

“Brock, we have a problem”

“Is it him?” 

Miguel heard a slight gasp. “What is he doing here?”

“I was waiting for the two of you to question him” Brock said.

“Two of who?” Miguel wondered. “Dorn?”

Wilma sighed. “We’ll have to take care of him later. Tonight, we have another one”

“Now?” Brock asked “What time is it?”

“The sun just set” Wilma explained “We meet Dorn in 20 minutes.”

“Well, help me with him then.”

Wilma and Brock walked over to their captive. 

“Wilma, is it? A pleasure to meet you!” Miguel said with a grin.

Wilma ignored him and grabbed one of his arms. 

Miguel tried not to cry out in pain as they drug him by his arms to a door across the room. Brock pushed the door open with his foot and they pulled him inside. 

Wilma and Brock both turned and walked out of the room. As Brock pulled the door closed he paused. 

“I wish I had more time to get to know you, friend.” 

Brock shut the door behind him and Miguel heard both sets of footsteps walk out of the chamber. 

The Urge - Part 12

Dorn sat down on the front porch of the tavern. He had just finished sweeping the porch and needed a moment to breath before going in and prepare for the evening rush. The afternoon was often slow. In a bigger city there would be a steady stream of customers all day, but here in the village Dorn’s busy times were confined to the lunch and dinner crowd. 
As he sat, Dorn thought about who would be next. It wasn’t that he was simply blood thirsty, Dorn served a much higher purpose. Everyone of them deserved to die. 
One could make an argument for the inherent morality of man but that really never held up to scrutiny. 
Was man ever taught to lie or steal? No, that was ingrained before birth. Dorn knew how to hate and envy long before he was taught that it was wrong. All are guilty and so Dorn willingly took upon himself the burden of cleansing the world. 
Dorn looked out over the village square at the various townspeople milling about. 
“You all deserve it. Even in your precious Bible we find that truth.”
Dorn smiled for a moment. He wondered if their God would be pleased with him. He chuckled to himself. Dorn didn’t believe in God. But he did believe in justice. 
“For all have sinned. Isn’t that what your book of Romans says?”
Dorn almost lost himself in his musings but unfortunately, there was work to be done. 
Dorn got up and made his way around to the back door. Just as he was opening the door, he heard a voice behind him. 
“Dorn!”
He looked back and saw Wilma hurrying over. 
“Wilma. What can I do for you?”
Wilma stopped in front of him and took a moment to catch her breath. “I was just closing up the shop and...well, we need to talk. May we...umm...go inside?” 
This couldn’t be good. Wilma would never make anything so obvious unless something had gone amiss. 
“Umm...sure” Dorn opened the back door and ushered Wilma inside. He closed the door behind him and turned to Wilma. 
“What are you trying to do?” Dorn whispered angrily “I thought we talked about discretion?”
“Dorn, this is important. Andrew came to speak to me. He’s starting to suspect you.”
“Are you sure?”
“He told my directly.”
Dorn sighed. He would enjoy it no doubt, but it would raise suspicion. Too many had witnessed Andrew storming from the tavern earlier in the day. 
“I think it needs to be tonight.” 
Dorn nodded. “Yes, yes. We really shouldn’t wait.”
“I’ll let Brock know to meet us there.” Wilma walked back to the door. “I’ll see you then.”

Yspaddaden - Chapter 10

 Kadyriath

Ynwfn, Woods.

Kady had no idea where she was going.

She simply walked. She chose a direction, started walking, and did not even care where she would end up, or who she would meet. Forget the mission! Forget the quest! Before she had been growing excited at the prospect of becoming involved in Yspa's journey, but now that she knew what she was, now that she realised that she was nothing more than an object to be used at the end, she had no desire to continue on. She hurried on, unaware of her surroundings, uncaring of her fortune.

Tears ran down her face and obscured her vision. She roughly swiped away at them, angry that they came so easily. How long had she known Yspaddaden? Not even a full month? Why did she care so much to be parted from him? He had kidnapped her! Took her away from all that she knew and led her into the wild, only to become terrorized, kidnapped again, tortured, beaten and laughed at. He had taken everything from her, and the only way he could think to repay it was to allow her to join him in his little quest and fulfill some prophecy that he needed her for. Without even saying please. And she still didn't have any shoes!

Kady stopped and sat down on a rock underneath a tree. The sun was directly overhead and the shade made the heat bearable. She looked down at herself and let the tears flow. Her dress was torn, her sash was gone, her feet were covered in dirt and leaves. If she was back at the city, no man would have her. At least, no man who had any money. She could not remember the last time she had been this dirty and felt this disgusting. She was a lady! She owned expensive clothes and perfumes, had men knocking at her door day and night, plying her with gifts of gold and jewels. How had it come to be that she was reduced to this, a lowly woman, sitting alone in the woods, covered in travel filth? It was all because of that son of a vuzhong, Yspaddaden. She sent up a wish to Adnan, a prayer that something drastic and painful happen to him. Good riddance.

She wiped her tears away one last time, resolving that she would not be so affected by this turn of events. She glanced up at the sky once again and declared it too hot to travel any longer for a while. She glanced behind the rock and found a small place in-between it and the tree where she could lie down and rest the afternoon away.

Curse Yspaddaden.

Tylosse

"Where is she?"

Tylosse looked up and could only see the silhouette of the giant man, the sun behind him. He had not even heard his approach. 

"I'm not sure. All I saw were you two arguing, then she walked away. That was over an hour ago. She hasn't come back yet."

Yspaddaden gave a large sigh and sat down on the grass next to Tylosse. He glanced at the soldier, then started grasping at clumps of grass and pulling them up by the roots. Tylosse ignored him and lay his head back down, trying to go back to his nap. The midday grew hot in these parts and it was not very smart to be moving about too much until it grew cooler. He was almost asleep when Yspaddaden started talking.

"Maybe she left."

Tylosse groaned on the inside and sat up once more.

"What?"

"Maybe she left. I didn't give her much of a reason to stick around. I can't really blame her for not understanding. But if she knew everything that I did, she might forgive my actions."

Tylosse didn't really care what Yspaddaden was talking about. The business between him and the whore was his own and he didn't want to become involved with it. What he did with her on his own time should not be shared with others. However he did not feel that expressing those thoughts would benefit him at the moment, so he took the more subtle route.

"Possibly. If you honestly believe her to have run off, maybe the best thing to do is to go after her. Bring her back. Tell her the truth." Then maybe I can get back to my sleep.

Yspaddaden sighed again and returned to mutilating the grass. Tylosse, feeling he accomplished his mission for now, lay back down and closed his eyes. The peace lasted for not even a full minute.

"I didn't mean to hurt her. I say things sometimes that I do not mean. I got angry. I started to rant. I didn't mean to push her away."

It was Tylosse's turn to pull clumps of grass out of their resting place, but his actions were based on frustration, not nervousness. Yspaddaden did not notice the movements, and it took Tylosse a minute to compose himself enough before he could answer.

"Things like that happen. It's not your fault."

"But it was. I wasn't honest with her. I lied out of convenience. She deserves to know the truth."

"Then go tell her."

"I've known Kady longer than she realises. It was never my intention to…"

Tylosse could take it no longer. He sat up, laid a hand on Yspaddaden's shoulder, and looked him in the eyes.

"I don't care. The only thing I care about right now is my rest, and you're not helping with that. No, if you truly want her to come back to you, I suggest you leave, go find her, and tell her whatever truth it is that you believe she needs to know. She shall be happy knowing, you shall be happy telling her, and I shall be asleep, and thus happy myself."

Yspaddaden looked at Tylosse in shock. He honestly had not realised how annoying he had become? Tylosse sighed again inside, then once more out of relief as Yspa nodded his head.

"You are right. I appologise. She is valuable to me, but not simply because I need her for the quest. I must tell her that."

"Yes, you should." And leave me alone.

Yspaddaden stood and smiled down at Tylosse.

"I appologise once more for being a nuisance. But you have told me the truth, and I thank you for that. It is a rare gift."

"Truth told in anger isn't always the best thing to tell."

Yspaddaden smiled again.

"A wise head as well."

He then turned and grabbed a few things, provisions, placing them in a bag. He turned back to Tylosse.

"If I do not return within three days, consider me gone, and go about your life. It was good to know you, Tylosse of the Realm."

Tylosse's anger subsided a bit.

"And you, Yspaddaden, The Giant."

They both smiled at each other, then Yspaddaden turned to leave, and Tylosse lay back down under the heat of the afternoon.

Peace.

Yspaddaden

The first thing Yspaddaden did when he left the clearing was go to the horses and set free the great unicorn there. Choosing not to use the saddle that had been provided with his theft, he leapt up on the stallion and tied the bag to his back. Within the bag was food, a change of clothes, the drawing he had got from Joyill, and the small box that he had obtained in the city. He needed nothing else. The bread and water would last him until the next city or village, and he could always hunt for meat. He hoped he could find Kady soon. She had not the skills to survive for long in the woods. First things first. Find the trail.

He backtracked and went to the place where he had fought with her. He could see the outlines of their footprints as they wandered about the clearing haphazardly. After tracing their paths for a bit, he found where she had eventually turned and left the clearing, going off on her own. It appeared as if she was heading in the direction they had been traveling. That was both good and bad. Good because she had not started back toward the soldiers. Who knows what evil might befall her if she was captured again by those men. Bad because Kady did not know of the ending of the forrest, mere miles away. After that began the Endless Plains. Nothing but grass and prairie dogs survived for several days journey. And if she did not stumble across the town that sat on the edge of the expanse, she would not be able to stock up on the needed provisions to traverse such a distance. She would be alone if Yspa did not find her before she ventured into the wild lands. And if she traveled too far to the north, she might end up in Dinas country. Yspaddaden shuddered at the thought.

He stood and leapt back up on the unicorn. For some reason, a sudden urge to name the beast came over him. He reached over and patted him on the neck. He could feel the great muscles, writhing just under the skin. Such a powerful, yet tame animal. He needed a proper name. But Yspa could not think of anything at the moment.

He kicked the animal and he surged forth, forcing his way through the underbrush. It was time to track down his companion.

Kadyriath

The woods at night was so much scarier than in the daytime. Kady hadn’t noticed it before, but the nighttime sounds that emanated from the trees were extremely foreign to her and when she could not identify them, it made them creepy, and thus frightening. She had always been with Yspaddaden at night or kidnapped. When she was with the giant, she had felt safe. When she had been with the soldiers, her focus had been on her predicament and she had ignored the sounds. Now they seemed to blast from every orifice and behind every unknown shadow. She hated to admit it to herself, but she wished she was back with Yspaddaden. But her pride made her forge ahead.

A howl made her stop dead in her tracks. She had lived in a city her entire life, but she knew this was no howl like she had ever heard before. It wasn't a wolf, or a coyote. It didn't even sound like a troll howl. The sound she was hearing would have made a troll cower in fear. The only thing she could imagine was a Dragon. But there weren't any rogue Dragons in this area. Were there?

The howl sounded again. A large flock of birds burst into the starlit sky, shaking the tree branches they had been hiding in. The sound made her skin crawl. She rubbed her arm and bumps started to form there. She would never admit it to anyone, but she was scared for her life. She had never been in this kind of situation before and she wanted it to be over. If she could only find a village or something to hide out in. She racked her brain, trying to think of what one was supposed to do when lost in the woods. Find a river. If she could follow a river of some sort, she would eventually stumble on some kind of civilization. And she could get a drink. She hadn't thought about it before, but she felt the pains of thirst rumbling in her belly. The urge to find water suddenly became very important.

She suddenly found her face in the grass and her foot on fire. The pain radiating from her foot was so severe that she convulsed for a full minute before the spasms rocked her away from whatever it was that had tripped her. She lay in the grass, trying to get her breath back. Her foot felt like it had a million ants chewing it off at the same time. She let herself recover, then slowly stood up to investigate. She looked back to where she had tripped and found the grass overgrown over a small wire fence. The fence was trampled down where she had forged through. She looked to either side and noticed it was the only spot where the fence was this low. It traveled upward on either side to rise up to a twenty foot tall barrier. She reached out and touched the wire with her finger. It bit her with such force that she recoiled and grabbed her hand in pain. What was this magic?! Was the fence enchanted? How could it inflict pain at a mere touch, without even having any sort of barbs that she could see? Incredible. Just another wonder of the world she supposed. She turned around to continue on, and stopped in her tracks.

There, before her, stood a giant man, covered head to foot in full thick brown fur, easily twelve feet tall. They stood there looking at each other for a moment.

Then it howled in anger.

Riverstone - Chapter 8

As I had promised myself, I didn’t bother with ‘Old Man Jackson’ taking me home. I also didn’t count on a happy reunion dinner at Dairy Queen with the Andersons and all the important people at Riverstone. I quickly and quietly stepped out a side door and walked back to the Sunset alone. Nobody noticed. Surprisingly, Mom wasn’t drunk as she usually is when I got back home. She was watching a movie and I made some sandwiches for the both of us. Later I asked if I could spend my usual time at Goldstein’s and she waved at me without saying anything. That meant ‘yes’.
          “Mom?” I asked without her even looking up. “I might go on over to the school playground for a while and then back to Riverstone. Is that Ok?” Again, she waved and I knew I was fine until late tonight.
          I grabbed a book I knew I wouldn’t get around to reading. With all that went on this morning, the talk ought to be wild and long at Goldstein’s. There probably wouldn’t be a free minute to read. Don’t get me wrong. I love to read. But ‘gossip listening’ is so much more fun.
          I beat the afternoon crowd there and was able to read a little bit before the first ‘gaggle’ of four women came in. Two of them were from Riverstone, the other two I didn’t know.

          “I’m surprised Willard didn’t just up and fire him on the spot. Hang the business meeting. Who needs a vote?”
          “You can’t do that. It would be against ‘Robert’s Rules of Order”.
          “What are the two of you talking about?” the real tall lady with the ‘cat-like’ glasses asked.
          “Willard James called for a business meeting Wednesday night to see if we ought to fire our new pastor or not.”          
          ‘Funny glasses’ dropped her mouth open in shock. “Didn’t he move here last week. This is his second week, isn’t it?”
          “Yes, and this isn’t much Inez’s doing either. Seems the pastor is responsible for most of all the problems. Don’t get me wrong. Inez weighed in on the subject with a few smart comments to that ‘hippie biker guy’.
          “What in the world did he do, the pastor I mean?” asked the other lady who wasn’t a Riverstone lady.  
          The other Riverstone lady, not ‘funny glasses’, explained. “Well, before he ever preached his first sermon, he gets involved with this seedy couple living over at the Sunset. He’s got tattoos all over his body, except the top of that ugly bald head.” I found myself giggling a little as I thought of the man at the cotton gin who the other guys asked if he had looked at the tattoos himself. I had to laugh at the thought of this old lady personally knowing if Jake actually did have ‘head to toe’ tattoos. I don’t think anybody but Jake really knows.
          “She,” the old lady continued, “I think, is a ‘lady of the evening’, if you know what I mean. She was dressed like one when she came to church last Sunday. I’m not sure where Brother Anderson met them, but he invited them both to church and they sat right up front close to Inez. She had a few choice words to say. He ‘amened’ everything the pastor said. Made a fool out of himself. I thought Inez was going to slap his hand once when he raised it up like one of those ‘carryzmatics’.” I must have missed that. I’m not even sure what that last word is she said.
          “Then, when a group went over to eat at Dairy Queen after church, guess who had the seats of honor next to the pastor? Not Willard James and the ‘misses’. That couple on one side and one of those bus kids that Mr. Jackson brings.”
          “That kid from the motel,” added the other Riverstone lady. “You know his mom, she’s a drunk and runs the Sunset.”
          I then heard a loud ‘sshhh’ and the talk stopped. I could tell they were looking my way, so I pulled my book a little closer to make it more believable that I was really reading. The conversation started up again, about half as loud as before. I could still hear everything they said, though.
          “He claims he is here for a few weeks working as a welder and she just moved here looking for a job. I still think they are living together, no matter what anybody says. Well, back to the pastor. They gave her some money because the lady said she was robbed last Saturday night, and then the pastor’s wife actually went to visit the lady at the motel and gave her some clothes to wear. I wouldn’t show up dead at that place.”
          They finished their drinks and left. Right after they did, in walked pastor Wiggins and his wife from the Methodist church. They each ordered a drink and sat quietly reading the newspaper.
          ‘OH, NO, I thought.’ In walked Willard James and two other men who I think are deacons.
          “You’re da…darned right I’m going ahead with that business meeting Wednesday. It’s either the pastor or me. As I heard one lady has already put it this week, we hired him, we pay him, we give him a free house, and if he cares more about some ‘drug smokin’ hippie and his ‘hoochi-coochie’ girl than he does about us, then it’s time to admit we goofed hiring this pastor and start looking for another one.”
          “I’m with you, Willard. He can’t even take care of his own flock.” I’m not sure who was talking. “What’s one of the main duties of a pastor? To visit the sick of his church when they are in the hospital. Last Thursday I took my Flo over to the hospital in Barton. She nearly cut off her little finger with a butcher knife and had to have six stitches. It was busy there and we stayed nearly eight hours and did ‘he’ show up? No! He never even called.”
          “But Mrs. Anderson did bring over a meal, didn’t she?” the third man asked.
          “That’s not the point. It’s the pastor’s duty, and he didn’t do it.”
          “Maybe he didn’t even hear about Flo until it was too late to come.”
          “Not when we live in a small town like this.”
          Willard continued, “I’m contacting some people at his old church up there in Michigan and see why he left such a big church after ten long years. There must be more of a reason than ‘I think God was leading us here’ kind of baloney.”
          The three left the bar and walked past me. Just as they did, they stopped.
          “Pastor Wiggins, how are you doing today? How’s things over at the Methodist church?” asked Willard.
          “I’m…We are doing fine. Thank you for asking. And the three of you?”
          “Well, Pastor,” started Willard. “I’m sure you’ve probably heard of the catastrophe we are having over at Riverstone.”
          “I’m not aware of any, Mr. James. Has there been a death in your church?”
          “Don’t be coy with me, Mr. Wiggins. I’m sure you have at least heard of , if you have not met our new pastor, Ron Anderson.”
          “Yes. Yes. I certainly have met Ron. Several times this week. Is he sick or something?”
          “Of course he’s not sick. He’s a total sham. Cares more about a bunch of hoodlum outsiders than his own church. Didn’t even come to visit his wife when she cut her finger last week.”
          “Boy, was my wife disappointed.”
“Gentlemen, if I were guessing right, if I could add up all the years the three of you have attended church, it would be a very great number of years, correct?” asked Mr. Wiggins.
          “Yes,” they all said in unison.
          “And have you never heard of the time Jesus asked the crowd ‘Who needs a physician more, the sick or the well?’”
          “That’s obvious. The sick. And my wife was in the hospital and he never came.”
          “What,” the Methodist continued, “do you think Jesus was more concerned about? Someone being physically sick, or spiritually sick?”
          “Spiritually, of course, I guess. What are you getting at, pastor?”
          “From what I understand, the young lady at the motel is wandering and searching for a new life, and really needs some guidance.”
          “Then why don’t you go give her some guidance, pastor?”
          “Maybe because God led her to visit your church, Mr.James?”
          At that, the three stomped out the front door in a huff.
          “Honey!” I heard the Methodist pastor’s wife say when the three had gone out the door. “Weren’t you a little harsh with them?”
          “Willard James doesn’t have a nurturing or spiritual bone in his body. How he ever got to be a deacon in a Baptist church, I’ll never know. A deacon is supposed to be a servant, not a tyrant leader. He should have, or in this case, he and his wife, should have been one of the first to knock on that poor lady’s door to lend a hand.”
          They got up and left a minute or two later. I then read about ten pages of my mystery before I heard anyone say anything more about Riverstone or Jake or Collette. I had gotten thirsty and went to the bar and was paying for a Dr Pepper. Up walked three guys I knew from school.
          “Hey. There’s Randy. He lives at the Sunset. I’m sure he can answer our question.” The three walked up and Billy Baldwin sat on my left and John Fellows and Tony San…I never can pronounce his last name. They sat to my right.
          “Randy!” said John. “Our parents have been arguing about those people who are staying over at the Sunset and are causing so many problems over at Riverstone Baptist.”
          “Do you mean, Jake and Collette?”
          “Yeah, them. They are living together, right? I mean they aren’t married, right?”asked Tony.
          “Who wants to know?” I got bold enough to ask. “You or your parents?”
          “Everybody!”
          It felt kind of neat to be the sudden expert on something. I cocked my head back and forth to look like I was thinking about the answer. The three boys looked down at me like vultures.
          “You want to know the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?”
          “Yes!” they yelled .
          “Jake Johnson is a welder who is working on that new rig south of town. He lives in room number two. Collette Madison lives in room number twelve and no they are not living with each other. I have never seen either one in the other’s room. They visit a little sitting on chairs in the parking lot. And do you want to know a very big, big secret?
          The three leaned over close without saying anything.
          “Randy Simpson and his mom live in number fifteen and she manages the Sunset.” Tony reached over and slapped me on the shoulder.
          “I thought you had a real secret, stupid. Come on guys, let’s go play football at the school. There’s supposed to be a game starting at 3:00. Come and join us Randy.”
          “I’ll see. Maybe. Thanks for asking.” It was only 2:30, so I watched the guys leave and I sat and read another two chapters before I left for the school ground. It was only two blocks away.