A soft light flickered through the drawn curtains, cascading the room in an illuminating glow. In the background rumbled a low and monotone buzzing sound, a sign that the neon advertisement was still working. The only other sound heard is the occasional backfire from a car or the distance hollering of a drunkard.
This is the wrong side of the tracks, the area good Christian men and women were supposed to avoid. It’s dirty, smelly, and filled with low-life sinners. The only decent people who dared descend into this area from the hills were the preachers and social workers intent on trying to save the gang-bangers, the whores, and the drug addicts. With the good book under their arm, they marched through the grime and to the souls of the damned.
Many had given up on it; they called it a lost neighborhood. The fires of hell would surly rise from the cracks in the earth and swallow it whole. A few, a very small few, had not. They knew it was the Lord’s wishes to save these lost lambs and bring them back to their Sheppard.
There are only a few cars parked outside the Red Bowl Inn. Dilapidated and neglected automobiles sat in the parking lot. There never were very many cars over at the Red Bowl Inn, and those that were where never nice cards, and most importantly, they were never there during the day.
Only one room even had the smallest trace of light coming from inside it, the result of an end lamp that was left on. It sat on top a small end table that was placed beside a ragged and torn chair. Beside the lamp, on the table, was a Holy Bible. Protected by its black leather covering, and kept in place with a red velvet tassel, it watched as an aging white man with snow white hair kept his gaze toward the bed.
Filthy, stained sheets covered the bed, sheets that told many stories by its stains, but none that people wanted to hear. Sprawled out across the wrinkled sheets was a young black woman who looked as if she had just reached her eighteen birthday. Scantly clad, it was obvious what this woman was there for as she moved seductively around. Edging to the end of the bed, she eyes locked on him and she reached back to the nightstand where a plastic bag full of pills was waiting.
A deviant smile etched across his face, the man reached toward the string attached to the lamp and pulled it until darkness filled the motel room. Hours pass until the day breaks the horizon. When the nine o’clock hour approached, the woman finally stepped out of the room and into the breezy wind. Thirty or so minutes later the man walked out with a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes.
Two fellows in grey striped suits were there waiting for him with a brand-spanking new white Cadillac. The aging man nodded to the two as the back door was opened for him and he disappeared behind the tinted windows. When everyone had entered the car, it rolled off and left the ramshackle neighborhood far behind them.
“Mr. Davis, I think we have a problem.”
The man in the back leaned forward, trying to hear reach word fully. “How so?”
Looking at each other, the two men in the front seemed to be debating how they would tell him the news. After the momentary pause, the one in the passenger seat turned over his shoulder to face him.
“It seems there was a reporter snooping around. We tracked them to make sure they didn’t get anything,” A glance of relief spreads across his wrinkling face, “but we don’t know how much they got behind we noticed them.” The look of relief sank to the bottom of the ocean in one swift moment of time.
It took a moment for Davis to gather himself, collecting his thoughts. “Just drive, we’ll deal with this later.”
A left, a right, another mile down the way and soon the car approaches a massive church, near cathedral-like in its appearance. Already swarms of people walk in groups toward the House of God and enter through the double doors. The sight of all these people ready to worship brought the largest grin to Davis’ face yet.
The car pulls to a halt around the back of the church and the two men hop out of the front to open the door for him. “Jacob, Abraham, it is time to preach the word. Take the car to Jesse’s and check if ya can get the dish on that reporter.”
They nod, understanding what they were supposed to do. Straightening his jacket coat, Davis reached into his back pocket to pull out his collar. Before he stepped through the back door, he removed the shades and tucked them away where the collar was.
As the door opened and a cool rush of air hurried to escape into the outside, Davis is greeted by several men in suits who are asking him questions at a rate of a million a minute. Smiling and nodding, he made his way past them, occasionally thanking one of them for attending today, until he made his way toward a large stage.
Everyone had seen this stage at one point in their life. It was the stereotypical blue back drop with the clouds and ray of light. A few lush green plastic plants are sorted out for color. In the center of it all is a podium. That was the destination for Davis, who headed straight for it so that he may look out over the sea of faces looking at him. There were hundreds, twelve hundred to be exact. And all of them had their full attention on him.
Something by Al Green played in the background, never coming to full attention but never fading completely away. When Davis stood behind the podium and raised his hand lightly, the music came to a halt.
“Welcome my friends; I am so glad ya’ll could come out today.”
That smile, the same one he gave when he was pulling up to the church, dropped the temperature ten degrees in the church. But all those people just smiled back at him, never knowing what he did last night or where he was.
“I see some new faces in the crowd today, and that brings a smile to my face. For those of ya’ll who is new here, my name is Jimmy Davis and I want save you!”
This brought a great cry from the audience. Had the church not been so immaculately built, it would have had its foundation shook with their response.
“Let me start off by givin’ a brief update on community events, the upgrades to the church are splendid.” This earned a pleasant applaud from the people, who admired the work their donation dollars had accomplished. More importantly, they applauded the new central cooling system that was installed. “The community auditorium had its ground-breaking this past weekend. I want to thank each and every one of you for that, but please know the work is not finished!”
There was another polite cheer from the people and the place went silent. From the sides of the stage, large cameras moved in. Microphones were lowered seemingly from the ceiling and from out of view a young, attractive woman rushed onto the stage to place a small microphone in his jacket. She stepped back, looked to one of the cameras to the left, and then started a countdown with his fingers.
A red light flashed and the last finger curled into her fist.
“Hello, everyone. I would like to start off by saying thank ya’ll for accepting me into your heart and praying for you. I just thanked everyone here, but let me extend just one more thank ya to all those who called in donations last week.” Jimmy placed both hands over where his heart should be, smiling as the multitude of lights in the church made his skin appear red as the carpet below his feet. “Ya’ll touched my southern heart with your kindness, and rest assured that your money will go out to bibles for the children.”
A nice, pleasant clap comes from the people in attendance. Among a few of them they wished about how much good it would do those children to read the word of God at an early age. At the podium, Jimmy opened his large bible, turning it to a marked page. He stared down at the words, reading over a few notes he had prepared for the sermon.
“Now let me talk to ya’ll about sin today. Yes I know each of you are good Christians, but please remember that the Devil himself is around every corner! He wants your money, and he wants your soul into his eternal damnation!”
There is a great cry, a gasp even, from the crowd.
“Why, even I get tempted by the Devil. I feel his flames licking my very heels each day, just darin’ me to do his biddin’! But I say NO!”
A great “Amen!” resounds from the people.
“I say the Lord is my Savior!”
Another “Amen!”, another smile from Jimmy.
“And with my Good Book, I battle him back folks. Yes the good Lord has saved me, letting me into his grace. But not all of us are that fortunate! Oh no! Sometimes we can not help but feel that temptation on our backs, and even the strongest of men bend at the knees. That is why I need each and everyone one of you,” his boney finger waved at various people in the front rows, causing a tremendous look of concern on their faces, “to help me save your soul from eternal damnation and the fires of hell!”
“AMEN BROTHER!”
There was a moment of pause, to let the words slowly sink beneath the skin. Jimmy Davis took this time to look back down at his bible, all spread out across the top of the podium.
“Now before I start, we’ll pass around the collection plate for donations. For those of ya’ homes, please feel free to call our donation hotlines located at the bottom of ya’ll screen. And I ask, for the Lord, please give generous if ya’ can. These are troublin’ times for all, and we could surly use ya’ help.”
Young boys dressed in white robs move hastily through the aisles with their tin plates in hand. All throughout the church is the rumbling of people shifting to reach their wallets and purses. His eyebrows lurch up high, reaching toward his forehead, as Jimmy kept a stern eye over his flock. One by one the boys finished their chore and made their way back up to the front. As each one passed, Jimmy made sure to see just how much was in their collection plates. One boy passed by with merely a few bills and some spare coins. A look of disgust washed over Davis’ southern face. He had to look down into his Bible to avoid anyone seeing his wicked snarl.
When he had time to collect himself, gather his thoughts, he looked once more out into the ocean of church-goers. “Thank ya’ll all sincerely. Now let us please turn our books to Psalm 101 3-5 and look upon the words, ‘I will set before my eyes no vile thing. The deeds of faithless men I hate; they will not cling to me. Men of perverse heart shall be far from me; I will have nothing to do with evil.’”
It went on like this for nearly two hours. Jimmy Davis would preach, occasionally allowing his voice to reach a feverous pitch, and those in attendance would rise up screaming “Amen!” Then, he would smile politely at them and continue on. When the sermon was over, people finally rose from their wooden benches, started to head down the aisles, and back toward their freshly washed vehicles.
The cameras and the microphones pull back from the stage, while Jimmy Davis turned to walk toward the back. The assistant was already there waiting to remove his microphone, just barely able to keep from being ran over as Jimmy headed straight toward his office.
Opening the door revealed a plush office, complete with everything a man never needed. Velvet drapes reached the ceiling, covering a window that overlooked the parking area. A massive polished oak desk sat toward the wall, a leather chair rested behind it. All along the unoccupied walls were bookcases filled to the brim with an assortment of collections. Beneath it all was a finely crafted Persian rug of earth tones.
There, resting on the large desk, were the many collection plates the boys had gathered. Jimmy Davis instantly gravitated toward it, pouring the contents of each plate out and onto his desk. Plopping himself down in his chair, he went through every dollar and every cent to count each piece.
“Two thousand, three hundred seventy-two dollars, and fifty-three cents. Cheap ****in’ bastards. The Lord can do nothing with this small change!”
His hand shot out, ready to smash all the money away, when the door opened. Jimmy Davis quickly shoveled all the money into one of the many drawers in the desk and put on his biggest smile, a smile which eroded away when the two gentlemen, Abraham and Jacob, stepped through the doorway.
“So, what did ya’ find out?” his southern comfort accent was soaked with poisonous intent.
Neither man moved, omitting to remain still. Finally, Abraham spoke up, “it’s not good. She has pictures.”
It was a good thing that Jimmy didn’t have any blunt objects in his hand, for if he had, it would have been lodged between Abraham’s eyes. The term ‘don’t kill the messenger’ was foreign for Davis. He had to take a moment to calm himself down and look for the most rational approach to the situational.
“You” he said, pointing toward Jacob, “Go find this reporter. We’re going to find out just what she knows.” His finger moved to Abraham, “and you go to the bank. I’ll have money ready for you. Bring it down to the papers and bring the editor. I don’t want her picture’s published. Do what you have to, break his legs or bribe him, but make sure those photos never make it to the press.”
The two nod, and head onto their respected missions. Jimmy Davis swung back around in his chair, facing out toward the window. The last of the parishioners exited from the church and headed toward their car. Standing from his chair, he approached the window, watching each one of them from high above. They were unaware of his eyes staring down on them, tracking their every motion.
“Don’t wander too far from your Sheppard, my sheep.”
Shifting to a distance location, one not many people had ever noticed, and even less cared about, a familiar Cadillac pulled up to the large doors of an old and seemingly abandoned church. The once spotless white vehicle now has an undertone of dirt and grime, having traveled down several back roads just to get to this location. Coming to a halt just feet from the door, the driver is quick out of his seat and around to the back passenger door. He opened the door, standing aside for Jimmy Davis to step out. He was still in his fine pressed white suit he wore during the sermon, doing his best to keep it from getting dusty in the boondocks.
He shot the driver a look that told him that he thought the ride was far too bumpy. In response the driver just lowered his head and reentered the car to wallow in his shame and incompetence.
Approaching the church, it was evident that the place was in bad need of repairs. Stone crumbled, mold grew, and windows were left in disarray. Wild grass grew along the edges and all around, proof that no one had visited the place in quite some time. Still, the tire tracks showed that it had not been too long.
Inside the church seemed even worst, if that was at all possible. Where pews once were was nothing more than cracked and rotting wood. The insides showed just how small this church actually was, barely able to fit even five pews on either side. In front of those pews, facing out toward them and the doors, was a podium of sorts. It looked less like a podium and more like a large wooden box sitting upright, but it no doubt did its job well.
It all seemed sad, forgotten in time, like the church was reaching for someone to remember its once humble glory. Missing the times when its walls were filled with the gossip, the church sat alone in the backwoods at a testament to God’s glory. All alone except for the young woman who sat in one of the front pews.
Coming in through the front doors, it seemed the church wasn’t as lonely as it seemed. On both sides stood Abraham and Jacob like sentinels on duty. Jimmy Davis turned his head and nodded to each. Abraham’s nod seemed to bring a great smile to the old preacher’s face, one that would have lit up the church if the sunlight wasn’t already raining in from the dilapidated windows. Looking to Jacob, he could not get the same reaction. “She said she wanted to see you personally.”
Rather than a fit of anger, Jimmy placed his hand on Jacob’s broad shoulder and tilted his head down at him, “it will do, my son.”
Never once did the woman ever turn her head back to see who had entered, or what was going on. Her eyes stayed straight ahead, up at the stained glass painting of the Mother Mary, still with the young baby Jesus in her arms.
Jimmy Davis walked down the aisle, both hands extended out to lightly touch the corners of the pews. His left hand rose when he reached the last pew in the row, high enough to lightly brush against the woman’s brunette hair. She neither winched nor moved, but stayed in her seat with her eyes locked onto the painted glass. At the end of his walk, Jimmy Davis trended softly onto the stage and took his place behind the podium. He was now blocking the woman’s view of the Mother Mary. For the first time she turned her eyes away, this time landing them on the bible that rested beside her on the bench.
“Did ya know this was the very first church I ever preached at?” He smiled, remembering the old times when he was just a young man with his collar. “But that was a great many years ago, an I was much younger man.”
The woman laughed, but not at what he had said. She laughed at him, something that Davis picked up on instantly.
“You are so full of ****.”
She was not the type of woman to curse, but when it came to calling a spade a spade, she would not cut any slack. “You are the scum that steals the pennies out of little old ladies life savings.”
Jimmy Davis just shook his head, sharing back her laughter. “Please, Ms. Cole, you think to lowly of me. I merely wish to enlighten and do the work of our Lord.”
“Like how you showed that woman the Rod of the Devine at the motel last night?”
A sharp glare from Davis told Abraham that he best not laugh at her less than subtle joke. He stifled his amusement, doing his best to remain sentinel. “What happened between myself and that woman is of private affair,” Jimmy said as he turned his focus back to the woman, “one that nosey who’s should stay out of.”
“You preach about sin, about saving people, and then dare to use the money they give to the church for your own greedy pleasure.” Each word was filled with poisonous venom, intent to kill their target slowly and painfully. “When you did that, you lost all right to any privacy.”
“Now Ms. Cox, that is simply insulting. I am a man of God, a loyal servant.”
She huffed a bit of laughter, knowing how full of **** he was. “And when my photos and article gets posted, everyone will see just what kind of servant you really are.” She folded her arms across her chest, turning her head away from him. She was quite proud with how she had proven him to be a fake.
Jimmy Davis seemed less than hurt by her revelation. His arrogant smirk stayed plastered on his face as he looked down at her from the podium. “Ya must think me a simple man. While ya was runnin’ around an’ playin’ detective, we were doin’ our own investigation.” He looked to Abraham, who gave him a nod, “and them photos and article to your publisher, ain’t going to be published.”
This was Ms. Cox’ turn to laugh, something that finally removed the smug look Davis had. “Do you think I’m so dumb as to just send it to one paper? I had copies, lots of them. I sent that to every major newspaper in the state of Mississippi. By morning, the entire state will know the type of snake you are.”
From outside the doors of the church a horn beeped twice. Ms. Cox lifted herself from the pew and nodded to Jimmy Davis, who just stood there with his jaw hanging loose. “And its MRS. Cox, so if you’ll forgive me, that is my husband waiting for me outside.”
He wanted to struggle her, there at that spot with his own bare hands. But that wouldn’t work, not with her husband outside waiting for her. He would know something was wrong. Then he would have to deal with the husband. That’s too much, where would the spiral end? Jimmy looked to his two faithful followers, Jacob and Abraham, who were ready to pounce on Mrs. Cox. Jimmy shook his head, letting them know that she needed to pass. He would have to deal with this in a different manner.
The next day came, and indeed her words spoke true. All across the state were the headlines exclaiming his sinful nature. He couldn’t escape it, couldn’t prevent it. Once so highly looked at, now eyes only fell on him fully of shame and disgust.
He wanted it all to stop, to go back to how it was before. It wouldn’t though; it would never be the same. He would have to live with it, in his new life. But what would that new life be?
This is the wrong side of the tracks, the area good Christian men and women were supposed to avoid. It’s dirty, smelly, and filled with low-life sinners. The only decent people who dared descend into this area from the hills were the preachers and social workers intent on trying to save the gang-bangers, the whores, and the drug addicts. With the good book under their arm, they marched through the grime and to the souls of the damned.
Many had given up on it; they called it a lost neighborhood. The fires of hell would surly rise from the cracks in the earth and swallow it whole. A few, a very small few, had not. They knew it was the Lord’s wishes to save these lost lambs and bring them back to their Sheppard.
There are only a few cars parked outside the Red Bowl Inn. Dilapidated and neglected automobiles sat in the parking lot. There never were very many cars over at the Red Bowl Inn, and those that were where never nice cards, and most importantly, they were never there during the day.
Only one room even had the smallest trace of light coming from inside it, the result of an end lamp that was left on. It sat on top a small end table that was placed beside a ragged and torn chair. Beside the lamp, on the table, was a Holy Bible. Protected by its black leather covering, and kept in place with a red velvet tassel, it watched as an aging white man with snow white hair kept his gaze toward the bed.
Filthy, stained sheets covered the bed, sheets that told many stories by its stains, but none that people wanted to hear. Sprawled out across the wrinkled sheets was a young black woman who looked as if she had just reached her eighteen birthday. Scantly clad, it was obvious what this woman was there for as she moved seductively around. Edging to the end of the bed, she eyes locked on him and she reached back to the nightstand where a plastic bag full of pills was waiting.
A deviant smile etched across his face, the man reached toward the string attached to the lamp and pulled it until darkness filled the motel room. Hours pass until the day breaks the horizon. When the nine o’clock hour approached, the woman finally stepped out of the room and into the breezy wind. Thirty or so minutes later the man walked out with a pair of dark sunglasses covering his eyes.
Two fellows in grey striped suits were there waiting for him with a brand-spanking new white Cadillac. The aging man nodded to the two as the back door was opened for him and he disappeared behind the tinted windows. When everyone had entered the car, it rolled off and left the ramshackle neighborhood far behind them.
“Mr. Davis, I think we have a problem.”
The man in the back leaned forward, trying to hear reach word fully. “How so?”
Looking at each other, the two men in the front seemed to be debating how they would tell him the news. After the momentary pause, the one in the passenger seat turned over his shoulder to face him.
“It seems there was a reporter snooping around. We tracked them to make sure they didn’t get anything,” A glance of relief spreads across his wrinkling face, “but we don’t know how much they got behind we noticed them.” The look of relief sank to the bottom of the ocean in one swift moment of time.
It took a moment for Davis to gather himself, collecting his thoughts. “Just drive, we’ll deal with this later.”
A left, a right, another mile down the way and soon the car approaches a massive church, near cathedral-like in its appearance. Already swarms of people walk in groups toward the House of God and enter through the double doors. The sight of all these people ready to worship brought the largest grin to Davis’ face yet.
The car pulls to a halt around the back of the church and the two men hop out of the front to open the door for him. “Jacob, Abraham, it is time to preach the word. Take the car to Jesse’s and check if ya can get the dish on that reporter.”
They nod, understanding what they were supposed to do. Straightening his jacket coat, Davis reached into his back pocket to pull out his collar. Before he stepped through the back door, he removed the shades and tucked them away where the collar was.
As the door opened and a cool rush of air hurried to escape into the outside, Davis is greeted by several men in suits who are asking him questions at a rate of a million a minute. Smiling and nodding, he made his way past them, occasionally thanking one of them for attending today, until he made his way toward a large stage.
Everyone had seen this stage at one point in their life. It was the stereotypical blue back drop with the clouds and ray of light. A few lush green plastic plants are sorted out for color. In the center of it all is a podium. That was the destination for Davis, who headed straight for it so that he may look out over the sea of faces looking at him. There were hundreds, twelve hundred to be exact. And all of them had their full attention on him.
Something by Al Green played in the background, never coming to full attention but never fading completely away. When Davis stood behind the podium and raised his hand lightly, the music came to a halt.
“Welcome my friends; I am so glad ya’ll could come out today.”
That smile, the same one he gave when he was pulling up to the church, dropped the temperature ten degrees in the church. But all those people just smiled back at him, never knowing what he did last night or where he was.
“I see some new faces in the crowd today, and that brings a smile to my face. For those of ya’ll who is new here, my name is Jimmy Davis and I want save you!”
This brought a great cry from the audience. Had the church not been so immaculately built, it would have had its foundation shook with their response.
“Let me start off by givin’ a brief update on community events, the upgrades to the church are splendid.” This earned a pleasant applaud from the people, who admired the work their donation dollars had accomplished. More importantly, they applauded the new central cooling system that was installed. “The community auditorium had its ground-breaking this past weekend. I want to thank each and every one of you for that, but please know the work is not finished!”
There was another polite cheer from the people and the place went silent. From the sides of the stage, large cameras moved in. Microphones were lowered seemingly from the ceiling and from out of view a young, attractive woman rushed onto the stage to place a small microphone in his jacket. She stepped back, looked to one of the cameras to the left, and then started a countdown with his fingers.
A red light flashed and the last finger curled into her fist.
“Hello, everyone. I would like to start off by saying thank ya’ll for accepting me into your heart and praying for you. I just thanked everyone here, but let me extend just one more thank ya to all those who called in donations last week.” Jimmy placed both hands over where his heart should be, smiling as the multitude of lights in the church made his skin appear red as the carpet below his feet. “Ya’ll touched my southern heart with your kindness, and rest assured that your money will go out to bibles for the children.”
A nice, pleasant clap comes from the people in attendance. Among a few of them they wished about how much good it would do those children to read the word of God at an early age. At the podium, Jimmy opened his large bible, turning it to a marked page. He stared down at the words, reading over a few notes he had prepared for the sermon.
“Now let me talk to ya’ll about sin today. Yes I know each of you are good Christians, but please remember that the Devil himself is around every corner! He wants your money, and he wants your soul into his eternal damnation!”
There is a great cry, a gasp even, from the crowd.
“Why, even I get tempted by the Devil. I feel his flames licking my very heels each day, just darin’ me to do his biddin’! But I say NO!”
A great “Amen!” resounds from the people.
“I say the Lord is my Savior!”
Another “Amen!”, another smile from Jimmy.
“And with my Good Book, I battle him back folks. Yes the good Lord has saved me, letting me into his grace. But not all of us are that fortunate! Oh no! Sometimes we can not help but feel that temptation on our backs, and even the strongest of men bend at the knees. That is why I need each and everyone one of you,” his boney finger waved at various people in the front rows, causing a tremendous look of concern on their faces, “to help me save your soul from eternal damnation and the fires of hell!”
“AMEN BROTHER!”
There was a moment of pause, to let the words slowly sink beneath the skin. Jimmy Davis took this time to look back down at his bible, all spread out across the top of the podium.
“Now before I start, we’ll pass around the collection plate for donations. For those of ya’ homes, please feel free to call our donation hotlines located at the bottom of ya’ll screen. And I ask, for the Lord, please give generous if ya’ can. These are troublin’ times for all, and we could surly use ya’ help.”
Young boys dressed in white robs move hastily through the aisles with their tin plates in hand. All throughout the church is the rumbling of people shifting to reach their wallets and purses. His eyebrows lurch up high, reaching toward his forehead, as Jimmy kept a stern eye over his flock. One by one the boys finished their chore and made their way back up to the front. As each one passed, Jimmy made sure to see just how much was in their collection plates. One boy passed by with merely a few bills and some spare coins. A look of disgust washed over Davis’ southern face. He had to look down into his Bible to avoid anyone seeing his wicked snarl.
When he had time to collect himself, gather his thoughts, he looked once more out into the ocean of church-goers. “Thank ya’ll all sincerely. Now let us please turn our books to Psalm 101 3-5 and look upon the words, ‘I will set before my eyes no vile thing. The deeds of faithless men I hate; they will not cling to me. Men of perverse heart shall be far from me; I will have nothing to do with evil.’”
It went on like this for nearly two hours. Jimmy Davis would preach, occasionally allowing his voice to reach a feverous pitch, and those in attendance would rise up screaming “Amen!” Then, he would smile politely at them and continue on. When the sermon was over, people finally rose from their wooden benches, started to head down the aisles, and back toward their freshly washed vehicles.
The cameras and the microphones pull back from the stage, while Jimmy Davis turned to walk toward the back. The assistant was already there waiting to remove his microphone, just barely able to keep from being ran over as Jimmy headed straight toward his office.
Opening the door revealed a plush office, complete with everything a man never needed. Velvet drapes reached the ceiling, covering a window that overlooked the parking area. A massive polished oak desk sat toward the wall, a leather chair rested behind it. All along the unoccupied walls were bookcases filled to the brim with an assortment of collections. Beneath it all was a finely crafted Persian rug of earth tones.
There, resting on the large desk, were the many collection plates the boys had gathered. Jimmy Davis instantly gravitated toward it, pouring the contents of each plate out and onto his desk. Plopping himself down in his chair, he went through every dollar and every cent to count each piece.
“Two thousand, three hundred seventy-two dollars, and fifty-three cents. Cheap ****in’ bastards. The Lord can do nothing with this small change!”
His hand shot out, ready to smash all the money away, when the door opened. Jimmy Davis quickly shoveled all the money into one of the many drawers in the desk and put on his biggest smile, a smile which eroded away when the two gentlemen, Abraham and Jacob, stepped through the doorway.
“So, what did ya’ find out?” his southern comfort accent was soaked with poisonous intent.
Neither man moved, omitting to remain still. Finally, Abraham spoke up, “it’s not good. She has pictures.”
It was a good thing that Jimmy didn’t have any blunt objects in his hand, for if he had, it would have been lodged between Abraham’s eyes. The term ‘don’t kill the messenger’ was foreign for Davis. He had to take a moment to calm himself down and look for the most rational approach to the situational.
“You” he said, pointing toward Jacob, “Go find this reporter. We’re going to find out just what she knows.” His finger moved to Abraham, “and you go to the bank. I’ll have money ready for you. Bring it down to the papers and bring the editor. I don’t want her picture’s published. Do what you have to, break his legs or bribe him, but make sure those photos never make it to the press.”
The two nod, and head onto their respected missions. Jimmy Davis swung back around in his chair, facing out toward the window. The last of the parishioners exited from the church and headed toward their car. Standing from his chair, he approached the window, watching each one of them from high above. They were unaware of his eyes staring down on them, tracking their every motion.
“Don’t wander too far from your Sheppard, my sheep.”
Shifting to a distance location, one not many people had ever noticed, and even less cared about, a familiar Cadillac pulled up to the large doors of an old and seemingly abandoned church. The once spotless white vehicle now has an undertone of dirt and grime, having traveled down several back roads just to get to this location. Coming to a halt just feet from the door, the driver is quick out of his seat and around to the back passenger door. He opened the door, standing aside for Jimmy Davis to step out. He was still in his fine pressed white suit he wore during the sermon, doing his best to keep it from getting dusty in the boondocks.
He shot the driver a look that told him that he thought the ride was far too bumpy. In response the driver just lowered his head and reentered the car to wallow in his shame and incompetence.
Approaching the church, it was evident that the place was in bad need of repairs. Stone crumbled, mold grew, and windows were left in disarray. Wild grass grew along the edges and all around, proof that no one had visited the place in quite some time. Still, the tire tracks showed that it had not been too long.
Inside the church seemed even worst, if that was at all possible. Where pews once were was nothing more than cracked and rotting wood. The insides showed just how small this church actually was, barely able to fit even five pews on either side. In front of those pews, facing out toward them and the doors, was a podium of sorts. It looked less like a podium and more like a large wooden box sitting upright, but it no doubt did its job well.
It all seemed sad, forgotten in time, like the church was reaching for someone to remember its once humble glory. Missing the times when its walls were filled with the gossip, the church sat alone in the backwoods at a testament to God’s glory. All alone except for the young woman who sat in one of the front pews.
Coming in through the front doors, it seemed the church wasn’t as lonely as it seemed. On both sides stood Abraham and Jacob like sentinels on duty. Jimmy Davis turned his head and nodded to each. Abraham’s nod seemed to bring a great smile to the old preacher’s face, one that would have lit up the church if the sunlight wasn’t already raining in from the dilapidated windows. Looking to Jacob, he could not get the same reaction. “She said she wanted to see you personally.”
Rather than a fit of anger, Jimmy placed his hand on Jacob’s broad shoulder and tilted his head down at him, “it will do, my son.”
Never once did the woman ever turn her head back to see who had entered, or what was going on. Her eyes stayed straight ahead, up at the stained glass painting of the Mother Mary, still with the young baby Jesus in her arms.
Jimmy Davis walked down the aisle, both hands extended out to lightly touch the corners of the pews. His left hand rose when he reached the last pew in the row, high enough to lightly brush against the woman’s brunette hair. She neither winched nor moved, but stayed in her seat with her eyes locked onto the painted glass. At the end of his walk, Jimmy Davis trended softly onto the stage and took his place behind the podium. He was now blocking the woman’s view of the Mother Mary. For the first time she turned her eyes away, this time landing them on the bible that rested beside her on the bench.
“Did ya know this was the very first church I ever preached at?” He smiled, remembering the old times when he was just a young man with his collar. “But that was a great many years ago, an I was much younger man.”
The woman laughed, but not at what he had said. She laughed at him, something that Davis picked up on instantly.
“You are so full of ****.”
She was not the type of woman to curse, but when it came to calling a spade a spade, she would not cut any slack. “You are the scum that steals the pennies out of little old ladies life savings.”
Jimmy Davis just shook his head, sharing back her laughter. “Please, Ms. Cole, you think to lowly of me. I merely wish to enlighten and do the work of our Lord.”
“Like how you showed that woman the Rod of the Devine at the motel last night?”
A sharp glare from Davis told Abraham that he best not laugh at her less than subtle joke. He stifled his amusement, doing his best to remain sentinel. “What happened between myself and that woman is of private affair,” Jimmy said as he turned his focus back to the woman, “one that nosey who’s should stay out of.”
“You preach about sin, about saving people, and then dare to use the money they give to the church for your own greedy pleasure.” Each word was filled with poisonous venom, intent to kill their target slowly and painfully. “When you did that, you lost all right to any privacy.”
“Now Ms. Cox, that is simply insulting. I am a man of God, a loyal servant.”
She huffed a bit of laughter, knowing how full of **** he was. “And when my photos and article gets posted, everyone will see just what kind of servant you really are.” She folded her arms across her chest, turning her head away from him. She was quite proud with how she had proven him to be a fake.
Jimmy Davis seemed less than hurt by her revelation. His arrogant smirk stayed plastered on his face as he looked down at her from the podium. “Ya must think me a simple man. While ya was runnin’ around an’ playin’ detective, we were doin’ our own investigation.” He looked to Abraham, who gave him a nod, “and them photos and article to your publisher, ain’t going to be published.”
This was Ms. Cox’ turn to laugh, something that finally removed the smug look Davis had. “Do you think I’m so dumb as to just send it to one paper? I had copies, lots of them. I sent that to every major newspaper in the state of Mississippi. By morning, the entire state will know the type of snake you are.”
From outside the doors of the church a horn beeped twice. Ms. Cox lifted herself from the pew and nodded to Jimmy Davis, who just stood there with his jaw hanging loose. “And its MRS. Cox, so if you’ll forgive me, that is my husband waiting for me outside.”
He wanted to struggle her, there at that spot with his own bare hands. But that wouldn’t work, not with her husband outside waiting for her. He would know something was wrong. Then he would have to deal with the husband. That’s too much, where would the spiral end? Jimmy looked to his two faithful followers, Jacob and Abraham, who were ready to pounce on Mrs. Cox. Jimmy shook his head, letting them know that she needed to pass. He would have to deal with this in a different manner.
The next day came, and indeed her words spoke true. All across the state were the headlines exclaiming his sinful nature. He couldn’t escape it, couldn’t prevent it. Once so highly looked at, now eyes only fell on him fully of shame and disgust.
He wanted it all to stop, to go back to how it was before. It wouldn’t though; it would never be the same. He would have to live with it, in his new life. But what would that new life be?