One Last Spin Part 6

22

Rap-Rap!

Pastor Dan rapped the conference table in order to call the Deacon’s meeting back to attention.  The twelve deacons had descended into squabbling over the replacement carpet for the sanctuary, over its size and color, and what techniques were best to lay it down.  It was a ten-minute diversion that just made Pastor Dan’s eyes glaze over.  It was always inevitable.  Twelve male deacons will always fall down rabbit holes, particularly when it came to building maintenance issues.

Today, Pastor Dan had other things on his mind.  “Brothers, it looks like we have come to another roadblock in our investigation of Racine Steel’s so-called miscarriage.  My investigator, Mr. Gibby Haynes, has her visiting a women’s clinic around the time of the miscarriage, but he can’t get anyone to talk, nor has been able to get to the records.  I think with a few more resources, he should be able to get to the truth.  I am asking for y’all to endorse additional costs for this effort, as it is beginning to surpass my discretionary funds.”

He was greeted by an uncomfortable silence.  The passion to pursue this had fanned down considerably in the church.  They were to fry other fish. 

“Well, Pastor Dan,” started Doc Stratton, the chiropractor who was a big, ruddy man, who played Santa Claus each year at the church,  “the consensus is, if I may be so bold to speak for the majority of the group, is that we may have pursued this as far as we need to.  There are other ways to make our point clear, and move the community away from the foul stench of the slaughter of the unborn, and we may have reached a point with this where the value has diminished, and we just wind up aggravating people instead of furthering the cause.”

Pastor Dan looked at his hands, laying flat on the table, the urge to tap again so strong he could hardly think.  “We want to help the cause by what?  Abandoning the cause?  Every nexus point in history has a critical event.  Some may seem trivial or unimportant, and only in retrospect can you see that was the moment to seize.  I have prayed and prayed and consulted the Lord, and he has told, clearly and without question, this is the critical juncture, this is the truth that must be revealed.  If we can get the community to see that even one of their own, one that they have revered, a ‘good’ girl who fell form abstinence, who found herself with child, if even she can do such an evil deed and then lie and obfuscate about it, then perhaps that community will face that the war against the massacre of our innocents is far from over, and must be fought in every church, in every community, in the state and the nation, fought with all our strength and courage, until no child is ever at risk again.”

Again there was silence.  The reluctance to commit further to this was palatable, but Pastor Dan seemed on fire.  “Tell you, what, Pastor Dan,” said Larry Luck.  “You seem very passionate about this, and I trust that the Lord has led you to this.  I’m just not sure whether the church needs to commit official resources to it.  So I’ll personally provide whatever you need to see this through.  I do think that after you get whatever additional input you need, we do need to wrap this up one way or another.”

The deacons agreed to Larry’s proposal but off the record, with no official vote, and not to be written up in the minutes. 

Doc Stratton stayed after the others had left, all except Pastor Dan.  “Are you sure about this, Pastor Dan?  It seems like we’re taking this quite far.”

Pastor Dan gave another impassioned speech.  He could be the most persuasive man Doc Stratton had ever met, but even all of Pastor Dan’s passionate arguments were leaving him skeptical.  “I don’t know, Pastor Dan.  I believe in you and I’m trying to follow you on this, but it all seems a bit much.  Is there more to this?  Do you know Racine Steel from before this?  Do you have some connection to her deeper than I’m aware of?”

Pastor Dan looked at Doc Stratton.  There was a slight twitch to his lip, making Doc Stratton think he was going to break out into a sarcastic smile, and his eyesight shifted slightly to the left.  “No.  Of course not.”

“Okay, Pastor.  I believe you.  Well, you have a good day.  I think we resolved many issues today.  It was a very good meeting, all in all.  I got to leave now.  Sarah’s fixing me some low country boil.  Have a blessed day, Pastor Dan.”  He nodded to him and then left.

He left, but as he walked out, there was a feeling he couldn’t shake.  Pastor Daniel Harvey, head pastor of the fastest growing church in Dixon County, New Life Baptist Church, had just lied to him.

23

Diary Entry, March 23

I’m in love with a boy still in high school.  Ha!  But Adam is so kind and mature you wouldn’t know it.  Besides, he will graduate soon and hopefully he won’t go too far off for school.  Speaking of school, I love Coastal Pines and am so happy that I am on course to be an LPN someday.  I’m going to miss Honey Dew but I am so happy. Happy that the Crowley Baptist Retirement Village has hired me part time!  I miss seeing Tabby as she is so heavy into South Georgia State, and in avoiding seeing my brother, Cokie.  I don’t miss seeing her sister, Racine.  Not that I’m jealous or anything.  I’m beyond that now.  I swear.

24

“Let me get this straight,” said heavily exhausted Sheriff Alan Steel.  He thought maybe with the arrest of Digger for the Mavis and Strickland murders that things would calm down and he could get some rest.  But apparently not.  No, not every thing was a murder case, but this county seemed to have a constant stream of the unusual, bizarre and sometimes just plain annoying.  “So why exactly is Barry Mincher in the holding cell?”

Deputy Gorland tried to explain.  “There were reports that an African American male was brandishing a gun at the Swain’s IGA.  When Officers Dixon and Rice arrived on scene, they found Barry tackled and held down by a couple of store patrons.  One of them had punched Barry pretty good in the face, causing a contusion on his upper left brow.  The officers decided the best course of action was to take Barry in custody.”

“Well?  Did he?”

“Did he what?”

“Did…he...have…a gun?”

“Uh, not exactly.  It was one of those price guns.  But the loud clicking unnerved the customers who called 911.”

“You do realize Barry works there, don’t you?  He was just doing his job.”

Deputy Gorland shifted nervously.  “Look, the arrest was not my idea.  That’s why I called you in to see if you could help straighten it out.”

“Did they arrest the idiot who slugged him?”

“Uhhh, no, they did not.”

“Oh for the love of God, could they at least identify him””

“I’m not sure.  Hopefully, it’s in their report.”

“You know, I hear the fish are biting real good up at Lake Blackshear.  I’ve got a good mind to fire up the RV, and Vicki and me to take off for a month.”  Oh, that would be so sweet, Alan thought.  “Let Barry go, but get him medical help immediately.  Put Officers Dixon and Rice on suspension, but not before they identify who hit Barry.”

“Yes, sir,” said Deputy Gorland.

“I swear, sometimes this town,” the Sheriff mused.  “If some delinquent moron like, say, Sandy Harley would come into Swain’s with a loaded assault weapon, everyone would be all Second Amendment gung ho.  But a black man with a price gun?  Everybody falls to pieces.”

Just when he thought he might get out of this madness, into the station walked Ramona Adams.  “Hey, Sheriff, I’m here as an agent of Thomas Cooper, to legally represent Barry.  I know you’re not directly responsible for this cluster bomb, but you know we got to do what we can to make things right.”

Sheriff Alan turned to Ramona.  He knew she was a smart lass, and he was glad to see Thomas give her a larger role in the firm, even if it meant his Sheriff’s department might get it’s ass chewed.  What could he say but, “Good to see you, Ramona.  Sorry it’s under these circumstances.  But I can assure you, you will have our full and complete cooperation.”

25

It was March.  The swamp was now a bug infested nightmare.  Only the most determined and protected went into its depths.  Sometimes Kayak Kelly was brave enough to do so.  But Kayak Kelly was gone.

Soon his tin roofed cabin would be gone too, demolished by the demolition crew paid for by the Compton Park Development Project.  The very project that he had dedicated so much time and effort was now going to obliterate any sign that Kayak Kelly had ever existed besides the swamp, much of which was going to disappear into the maw of commercial development.

Deeper into the swamp, there was a new bush, with tiny shoots and branches beginning to shoot up.  Digger and Sandy’s efforts to eradicate it completely had failed.  The swamp’s ability to survive and come back was sometimes breathtaking in its endurance.

Left on its own, the blue drupes would return next fall.  And yes, they contained within them the enzyme that would cure cancer.  But even with all its amazing recuperative powers, the blue drupes would not survive to fruition.  The whole area was scheduled to be bulldozed next month.

26

Noises Off was performed without Gariton Hollander.  Everyone knew why he left, though, and they were all glad his name was cleared. It would not be held against that he quit in the middle of the show.  He would be welcomed with open arms.  Gariton made inquiries about the fall show, and asked if his friend Janet could help backstage.

Of course, if the case was not over, or if he had been convicted, that would be a different story.  Then every sign that he had ever been at the theatre would be purged and eliminated.  Posters that mentioned him would be taken down, biographies and scrapbooks would be re-written.  Nothing like a good old fashioned Stalinist style purge!

Fortunately, that was not the case.