Fiction

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“And that, is why he came,” thundered the preacher. “Please stand and bow your heads for the invitation.”
As the piano began to play a hymn, several people came to the small alter at the front of the church to pray. Among them was a young man. He was not an extraordinary young man. At five feet, nine inches tall, dark brown hair, gray eyes, broad shoulders and firm steps, no one ever though much of him. At least no one did until they really took a good look at him. There was a hard but kind look in his eyes, and his stance showed that while he feared no one, he didn’t want to fight.
“Is there anything I can help with?” asked the preacher.
“No, but thanks for asking. I just need to get some things right with God,” came the reply.
A few minutes later the young man returned to his seat. There was heart ache written all over his face. His grey eyes were welling up with tears that he wiped away with a handkerchief from his pocket. As he replaced the tear-stained fabric, the preacher watched a change come over him.
Suddenly the eyes had a hard, almost cruel look in them, the mouth was set in a grim frown, and the tears were replaced by anger. Then, just as suddenly, the anger was gone and he looked normal again.
Having seen the visitor’s card and introduced the young man to the congregation, the preacher already knew that the young man was Joe Williams, and he was from Rockville, Indiana.
”I’ll have to see if anyone knows this Joe,” the preacher thought, “If that look I saw is any indication, there is more to his story than he is letting on.”
After the service, Joe was talking with a young lady about his own age.
“You haven’t mentioned your folks ever since you started coming here,” she said.
“They’re dead,” was the reply.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” she said.
“That’s OK. You asked because you didn’t know. That is human nature, to ask and to know.”
“Would you tell me about it?” She asked.
“I would rather not. It was not a pleasant event,” he said, trying to shake the memory from his mind.
“Would you like to have supper with us this afternoon?” she asked. “I know my parents would not mind.”
“I think I just might take you up on that offer,” he said smiling.
“I’ll go tell my mom so she isn’t too surprised,” said the young lady as she walked away.
“She’ll make a fine wife for someone someday,” came a voice from behind.
Turning around, it was an elderly man with a cane in one hand and his worn Bible in the other.
“Really?” he said, his voice showing that he had thought the same thing about her at one time or another.
“Yup,” said the old man, “I’ve watched her grow up since she was knee-high to a grasshopper. In fact, she cleans my house for me once a week. Didn’t even ask if she could the first time. She saw I couldn’t do it very well my self, so she showed up at my door one day with her sleeves rolled up. I’ll be hanged if she didn’t even do my laundry for me.” He chuckled, “The soap she used was something else too. I never smelt such nice clothes as what was in my closet when she left. I almost thought they were someone else’s clothes.”
“Hmm, that is something,” The young man said.
“If I were you, I’d hurry up and marry her before someone else snatches her up. Girls like her are hard to find, now, I hear,” said the old man with a prod in his voice.
“I might do that sometime, but I have to finish some business before I can settle down and raise a family,” the young man said with a faraway look in his eyes.
“I’ll see you tonight,” said the old man as he turned to go.
“I don’t know if I’ll be here tonight,” said the young man, “I got word that I will probably have to leave for a few days after supper.”
“Well, that’s too bad,” said the old man, “I’ll tell your friend you’ll miss her.”
Joe Williams blushed ever so slightly. “You do that. And tell her to watch her step.”
“What does that mean,” asked the old man?
As he turned to leave the young man said, “Please just tell her that. I can’t explain without giving too much away.”
“Alright, just you hurry back. And be careful out there,” the old man said in parting.

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