Comfort and Affliction

by Michael Frosolono

  “Were there any witnesses to this so-called miracle?” Hannover asked.

  “Her daughter and daughter-in-law. They’re spreading the news all over town. I’m flabbergasted you haven’t heard about it.”

  “George, from your vast knowledge of the Bible, do you recall how Jesus answered John the Baptizer’s disciples when they asked Jesus if he were the Messiah?” Miz Lizbeth asked.

  “Jesus told them to consider what was happening as proof of his Messiahship.”

  “Do you also remember the episode when Jesus answered his critics about whether his power came from God or the Devil?”

  “Jesus said his actions couldn’t be from the Devil because the Devil would be acting against himself.”

  “So, George,” Miz Lizbeth asked, “do you think the Holy Spirit would have healed Alice through Reverend Eric’s prayer if he had committed blasphemy Sunday afternoon?”

  Before Hannover could respond, Eric said, “Let me say something in my own behalf.” He looked briefly at each member of the committee. “Attendance at our Sunday morning worship services has steadily increased since I began preaching here.”

  “How many people have joined the church?” Hannover asked.

  “Look around you on Sunday mornings. The sanctuary is filling up with new members, if you care to see the church membership roll. Also, eight persons signed pew cards this past Sunday stating their wish to join Aldersgate as full members,” Eric said. “I will meet with the eight before the end of this week in order to incorporate them this Sunday into our Aldersgate fellowship.”

  “How do we know these potential members aren’t queers? You seem to attract them.”

  “Their sexual orientation does not disqualify them for membership in the United Methodist Church.”

  “I won’t stand idle while you convert this church into a queer haven. You can count on my friends and my family leaving this church. You’ll be preaching to a congregation of queers like yourself.”

  “You mean you and yours will follow your commander out the door?” Eric asked.

  Flustered, Hannover began a response, “How did you learn about—?” He stopped himself with great effort.

  “You mean, how do I know you’re a member of the Southern Restoration Movement with Ralph Whitfield as your commander-in-chief?”

  Hannover did not respond.

  “Your words and actions reveal what you must have thought was a great secret.”

  “You should be ashamed of yourself, George,” Miz Lizbeth said, “for being a member of such a retrograde bunch of idiots and for your idiotic behavior tonight.”

  “I’m not an idiot and I won’t let you or Jameson run this church and take it away from the good people who’ve supported it for so long.”

  “Speaking of support, George, I’m willing in the confidence of this committee to reveal the exact amount of financial support my family provides each year to our beloved church. Are you willing to do the same? We can always ask our financial secretary to verify what we give.”

  “Giving money isn’t the only way to support the church.”

  “At last, a statement from you I can agree with. However, we can deal with the dollars and cents better than any other parameter. Where our money resides reveals the location of our hearts.”

  “I’ve had enough of this nonsense,” Hanover growled. “There’s a motion to dismiss Jameson before us. I call for a vote.”

  “Mr. Hannover, you need to know a couple of things about your threat to take your family and friends out of this congregation,” Eric said. “I was assigned this pastorate to bring Aldersgate into the 21st century, even over the objection of members like you. I am perfectly willing, if necessary, to preach this church empty. And then I will preach it full again.”

  “Empty words,” Hannover said.

  “Let me assure you: I make promises, not threats, and I am very good at keeping my promises. One last thing before the committee votes.”

  “What?”

  “Have you counted the house?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Eric looked away from Hannover to the rest of the committee. “I support Mr. Hannover’s call for the vote.”

  “I don’t need your support,” Hannover said. “Let’s vote. All in favor of removing Jameson as pastor of this church signify by raising your right hands.” No other member joined the affirmative vote with Hannover.

  Miz Lizbeth laughed. “George, you really don’t know how to count, do you?”

  Hannover bolted upright, overturning his chair. “To hell with you all. You can have this church, along with the queers. I resign from this committee and I’m leaving the church.” He picked up the packets of photos and stomped out the door.

  “Good riddance,” Miz Lizbeth said to Hannover’s back as he left the room.

  “We need a new chairperson,” Foster said. “I nominate Miz Lizbeth. She’s held the job before and we need her leadership at this time. All in favor, raise your right hand.”

  All committee members raised their right hands. “Thank you,” Miz Lizbeth responded. “Reverend Eric, will you dismiss with prayer?”

  Eric stood. “Almighty God, help us to strive for reconciliation among the discords of our human attempts to do your will. We wish no one to leave or to be excluded from our congregation. May we learn to be opponents without being enemies. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  Miz Lizbeth closed the meeting. “I remind everyone, what we say in this committee must remain confidential. Reverend Eric, an excellent prayer, even if I don’t expect the Holy Spirit to impart reconciliation among those who do not wish reconciliation. Nevertheless, let us leave this meeting in peace.”

  CHAPTER 25

  Sunday, 28 September

  Allison lay with her head on Eric’s chest enjoying with him the glow of intimacy. Eric, who had not lost his combat sensitivities, heard the sound of a distant explosion. He sat upright.

  “What’s the matter?” Allison asked.

  “Something’s wrong.”

  “What?”

  “You didn’t hear the explosion?”

  “I only heard your heart beating and your breathing, and I’m still feeling the aftereffects of another peak of lovemaking.”

  The sirens of multiple emergency response vehicles traveling from downtown Vickery toward Springfield Heights indicated a potentially serious problem. Eric got out of the bed and began to dress. “Kind of puts a damper on making love again for a while, doesn’t it?”

  “You’re off to be the hero again?”

  “I’d like to know what’s happening. You want to go with me? We’ll let our ears take us to the action.”

  A series of strong knocks sounded on the bedroom door. “Mom, Reverend Eric! Are you guys awake?”

  Allison pulled a sheet over her breasts and sat up in the bed. “We’re definitely awake now. What’s wrong?”

  Joseph came into the bedroom. “Cathy sent me a text. Their church blew up and is on fire. They had to get out of the parsonage because it’s burning, too.”

  “Cathy and her grandparents, have they been hurt?” Eric asked.

  “No. They’re watching the firemen trying to save the parsonage.”

  “I’m going over there,” Eric said.

  “Joseph,” Allison said, “please step out of the room so I can get dressed. I want to go with Eric.”

  “So do I,” Joseph said.

  “You might not like what you see,” Eric said.

  “If Cathy’s not hurt, nothing will bother me.” Joseph left the bedroom.

  Eric parked his Ford Explorer two blocks from the burning Ebenezer Methodist Church and parsonage. “The police and fire departments have the roads blocked,” Eric said. “We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.” He pushed through the crowd of onlookers, Allison and Joseph following close behind. When they reached the police barricades, Eric shouted, “Chief Holderfield!”

  “Hey, Reve
rend Jameson. Bad doings tonight.”

  “Anyone hurt?”

  “Apparently not.”

  “Any idea what caused this mess? I heard the explosion.”

  “I figure some kind of explosive surrounded with an accelerant like gasoline,” the chief said. “One of the firemen reported he smelled gasoline. Whatever the cause, the fire burns exceptionally hot.”

  “C4?”

  “We’ll wait for the GBI arson squad to make a conclusive analysis.”

  Joseph asked, “Chief Holderfield, where are Cathy and her grandparents?”

  “Step under the tape and I’ll take you to them.”

  Eric and his family accompanied Chief Holderfield to where Cathy and her grandparents sat in the back of an EMS vehicle. When Cathy saw Joseph, she ran to embrace him. “What took you so long to get here?”

  “I thought I’d better ride with Mom and Reverend Eric rather than on my bike. Are you all right?”

  “We had time to get out of the parsonage before the smoke and flames reached us.”

  Big Al joined Eric and Allison. “Reverend Eric, Sister Allison, Joseph. Good to see you. Catherine told us she had texted Joseph with the sad news.”

  Allison went to Sister Ruth, who had remained in the back of the EMS vehicle. The older woman shook despite the heavy blanket around her shoulders. “Sister Ruth, would you like for me to sit beside you?”

  “Please. I can’t stop shaking.”

  “You’re probably keyed up from adrenaline. Let me hold you.” Allison hugged Sister Ruth. “I’ll keep you warm until the effects wear off in a little while.”

  Chief Holderfield spoke to Eric. “I’ll leave you folks here. I need to make sure we have the crowd under control.”

  “You’re expecting trouble?”

  “Some of the younger men may want to do something unwise.”

  “Do you know who might have perpetrated this tragedy?”

  “Assuming we’re dealing with arson, the suspect list would be rather short. I can’t say anything more right now.” He saluted Eric and walked away.

  “I need to pour some oil on troubled waters. Many of my people appear to be angry,” Big Al said to Eric.

  “They have a right to be upset.”

  “Sister Allison provides comfort to Ruth; Joseph and Cathy have each other. Please walk with me.”

  “My pleasure,” Eric went with Big Al into the midst of the predominantly black crowd.

  Big Al spoke as loudly as he could over the noise. “Brothers and sisters, as you can see and hear, I’m alive and well. Ruth is fine.” He pointed toward the EMS vehicle. “Sister Allison, whom many of you know and respect, sits with my wife. Our granddaughter and her friend, well, what can I say about two young people who care deeply for each other? I won’t worry about them.”

  A shout came from the crowd. “Someone should pay for blowing up our church and the parsonage!”

  “Restorers. It had to be those bastards!” another person yelled.

  Big Al held up his hands. “Let’s not rush to judgment. We don’t know for sure if the explosion and fire came from something like a gas leak or an act of arson. We need to let our fine police force and fire department do their jobs. We shouldn’t make the situation worse. My family has suffered no physical damage; we can rebuild the church and parsonage.”

  Eric stepped up to speak. “Until we do, the Ebenezer congregation can worship with us at Aldersgate, and Reverend Stockman and his family can live in our parsonage.”

  “See,” Big Al said, “we’ve got everything covered. Why don’t you good folks go back to your homes? As soon as we know something definite about the cause of this fire, I’ll make sure the news gets to all of you. Please go back to your homes; my family needs time to settle down.” Most of the crowd began to disperse. “Brother Eric, did you mean what you said?”

  “I did.”

  “You think your congregation will let us worship with you and live in your parsonage?”

  “Based upon recent events, I’m sure you’ll be welcomed.”

  “What about you? Will you also stay in your parsonage?”

  “All I need to do is change the sheets on my bed for you and Sister Ruth. The guest room is ready for Cathy.”

  “Where will you sleep tonight?”

  “With Allison, like on most nights, unless she objects. If she does, your family and I can make do in our parsonage.”

  “O, Lord,” Big Al said. “You’re going public, and in a big way.”

  “Maybe that will stimulate Allison to marry me sooner than later. Anyway, let’s collect our families and go home. We’ve had enough excitement for tonight.”

  “General Lee’s horse?” Deputy Rice answered the call from Whitfield.

  “Traveller,” Whitfield responded.

  “Ready for more orders, Commander.”

  “From the sound of things, seems as if you completed your assigned task tonight,” Whitfield said.

  “The nigger church and parsonage have burned to the ground. The coons were ready to riot until the nigger preacher and Jameson calmed them down.”

  “Your location?”

  “In my patrol car, on duty at the scene.”

  “Was anyone hurt?”

  “No, we had bad luck. If you had given the order, I would have also blown the parsonage and the niggers in it to hell and back. Almost happened anyway.”

  “You’ve done well, sergeant. We’ll get to the killing before too much longer.”

  “The sooner, the better.”

  “Be patient. Everything in good time.”

  “Yes, sir. The niggers must be feeling scared, like we want ’em to be.”

  Whitfield kept his voice calm. “The crime lab people undoubtedly will find traces of whatever you used to set off the conflagration. The police will know they’re dealing with arson, as will the blacks. We need to let things go back to normal.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Are you sure the police can’t link you to what you did tonight?”

  “No way. I was on the other side of town on patrol when the C4 and gas went off.”

  “You used a timer?”

  “I did, a battery timer connected to the detonator.”

  “You wore gloves?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Any chance you left any fibers on the scene?”

  “If I did, Commander, they’ve burned up, blown to hell.”

  “Good. Our brothers in the Movement will applaud what you’ve done tonight.”

  “Thank you, Commander. I performed my duty at your orders.”

  “Be ready for more instructions when I issue them.”

  “Say the word.”

  “For now you must understand something important: They also serve who only stand and wait.” Whitfield suppressed a laugh at the idea Rice would recognize the quote from Milton.

  “Acknowledged. Over and out.”

  Rice is an idiot, Whitfield thought. He probably messed up something. He must be sacrificed for the good of the cause. I’ll work on the means in the morning. He put the phone back in his safe and left the study to join his deeply sleeping wife in their bedroom.

  CHAPTER 26

  Monday, 29 September

  After school let out for the day, Joseph and Cathy found Allison and Eric on her back deck. “Cathy, as you know, we consider you part of this family,” Eric said.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “There’s something I need to do now that we have two witnesses.” Eric took a small ring box from his pocket.”

  Cathy, wide-eyed, stood closer to Joseph. “Boy, you pay attention to what’s about to happen. You’re gonna need to know what to do one day.”

  “What?” Joseph asked.

  Eric knelt. “Allison, my beloved, will you marry me?”

  Tears began to flow from the corners of Allison’s eyes. “Yes, my beloved. Yes, I will marry you.”

  Cathy hit Joseph on his arm to keep him silent.
/>   Eric placed the ring on Allison’s finger. Allison and Cathy gasped at the size and beauty of the ring, which fit perfectly. Allison and Eric embraced and kissed. When they stepped apart, she held up her hand with the ring. “How did you know what size to get for this beautiful ring? It’s fabulous.”

  “The other night while you were sleeping, I measured one of the rings you often wear,” Eric said. “Seems as if I must have chosen the correct one to get your finger size.”

  “Oh, my love, you did, you did.”

  “Joseph,” Cathy said, “I’ll want a rock this size from you.”

  “I think a simple gold ring would be fine,” Joseph said.

  “Not on your life. I may be a cheap date; I won’t be a cheap bride.”

  “Do you have a wedding date in mind?” Allison asked Eric.

  “How about this Sunday? My best man and his wife can be present for the ceremony at Aldersgate. Big Al can officiate.”

  “You were that confident?”

  “I had great expectations. We’ll need to work out a time later on for our honeymoon.”

  “Definitely.” Allison looked at Joseph.

  “I got the hint, Mom. I’ll stay with Miz Lizbeth. Cathy can visit the Big House, maybe spend some nights out there.”

  “Who’s your best man?” Joseph asked.

  “General Malcolm Bingham. To his friends, he goes by his radio handle, Buckshot.”

  “Joseph, you can give me away. Cathy, you and Sister Ruth can stand with me, along with Miz Lizbeth.”

  “Great,” Cathy said. “I’m sure Granny will agree.”

  “Have you known this Buckshot a long time?” Joseph asked.

  Allison broke in before Eric could answer. “Joseph, you haven’t earned the right to call General Bingham by his nickname.”

  “All right,” Joseph agreed. “Then, Reverend Eric, how long have you known General Bingham?”

  “Since we were roommates at West Point. He was my last commanding officer.”

  Joseph asked, “When you left the Army, you were a colonel?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why weren’t you a general like your best friend?”