River of Fire
Page 20
Chapter 20
"I's don't know where he be," Elijah said, glancing out the window for the hundredth time. For the last hour, he had alternated between the clock and the window. "Maybe he done run off."
James was just as worried as his father but tried not to show it.
"He'll be back," he said with more confidence than he felt. "Here, go over the crates with me again."
Lifting a lid from one of the four wooden boxes, he sorted through the contents.
"We done been thru 'em a heap of times. They ain't changed any. We done lost our jobs; where we gonna go?"
"You always taught me the Lord will provide."
"I know I did, but He best hurry up!"
"Father!" James said.
"I ain't talking 'bout the Lord. I's was a'sayin' the preacher." Elijah said quickly.
"Reverend Wakefield will do all he can, I'm sure."
Already James felt a fierce loyalty to the minister.
"He be a good man but he a fightin' the devil in O'Malley."
James could find no words to dispute his father's claim. He put his arm around Elijah and squeezed his shoulder.
As evening approached, the gloom increased in the men's hearts as well as the night's sky.
At ten after six, a figure came up the walk.
"Here he comes," Elijah, said with a sigh, his shoulders slumped.
They watched the man step into the circle of light made by the street lamp.
"It's O'Malley," James said with disgust. His eyes scanned the house that had been his home for most of his adult life. "Lord help us," he whispered.
The front door slammed, causing both men to jump. Fearing the worse, James and Elijah walked into the foyer to greet the man.
Incredulously, Shane O'Malley was smiling!
To James it looked like the snarl of a mad dog.
"Well, so you two are still here," O'Malley said as he took off his wraps.
"We un's are jest leavin'," Elijah replied, lifting one of the crates. It slipped
from his grasp and crashed to the floor, leaving a scratch on the polished wood.
O'Malley's smile faltered, then recovered.
"Now where are you going with those?" he asked, indicating the boxes.
"Mr. O'Malley, you fired us, don't you remember?" James said.
"Oh that," O'Malley replied with a wave of his hand, "was just a bad misunderstanding."
"You talk to Reverend Wakefield?" James asked, relief flooding over him.
"I most certainly did. A very enlightening experience," O'Malley chuckled.
"But you said we un's was shiftless and lazy," Elijah replied, confused.
"Yes sir, you said we weren't worth shooting," James stated, crossing his arms over his chest.
Shane O'Malley's smile vanished and his face turned to flint.
"Do you want your jobs back or not? It's awful cold on the street tonight."
O'Malley voiced the very thing James feared. At his age, his father wouldn't last the night in the freezing weather.
"We will stay sir," James said with a slight smile, making the decision for both of them.
"Good," O'Malley replied, rubbing his hands together. "Now bring me some dinner; I'm starved."
James hurried away to do his bidding. O'Malley turned to Elijah.
"Tomorrow I want you to help James clean the parsonage from top to bottom."
"Yes suh."
"And one other thing. I've found another bank. This one is much more solid."
"I think I's jest keeps my money in a jar."
O'Malley laughed.
"What kind of security does that afford?"
"It'd be better than that White Oak Bank."
"I'll speak to the other deacons about it."
"Yes suh," Elijah said, knowing he was defeated.
After putting the boxes in the hall closet, he left for his bed in the furnace room of the church.
James had put the meal for Adam on the back burner. After setting a platter of sliced ham, potatoes, gravy, green beans, and spinach in front of O'Malley, James positioned himself behind him awaiting further orders as was his custom. He watched the head deacon devour the meal with vigor and satisfaction.
Finishing his meal, O'Malley pushed away from the table and patted his stomach. Biting off the end of a cigar he pulled from his jacket, he spit it into the fireplace. He leaned over and lit it from one of the candles.
"That was a good meal, James," O'Malley said, blowing out a huge cloud of smoke.
"The Reverend doesn't allow smoking in the parlor sir," James said nervously. Actually, he had no idea whether Adam allowed smoking or not.
O'Malley took another puff and released it into the air, the smoke drifting to the ceiling.
"James, I want you to pack Wakefield's stuff."
"Reverend Wakefield's belongings sir?"
"Yes. Make sure you don't miss anything," O'Malley said, smiling at the valet.
"Where shall I put them sir?" James asked, his tone downcast.
"Leave them here in the foyer. I will send a man for them tomorrow afternoon."
"But what will Reverend Wakefield wear?" James asked. "Should I leave his
suits here?"
Without answering, Shane O'Malley pushed himself up from the chair and walked to the front door.
"Get my coat and hat, James."
As he was helping O'Malley with his coat, James broached the subject again.
"Will Reverend Wakefield be coming in later tonight?"
Turning to face the servant, O'Malley adjusted his muffler.
"Reverend Wakefield will not be returning tonight or any other night. This afternoon he shot and killed Frederick Cooper. He also tried to murder me. He was seriously wounded. He's in the hospital under heavy guard."
"Nooo," James said. "Are he hurt bad?"
"Watch your language," O'Malley said, pointing a gloved finger at James. "Valets do not use that language on the street."
"But sir."
"No buts, James, remember your training."
"May I go to him sir?" James said, tears swelling the corners of his eyes.
"You may not. As I said, he's under guard and besides the doctor doesn't expect him to live through the night."
James' face fell.
"Just crate up his possessions. I'll have them shipped to his mother in Arkansas."
In a gesture of feigned tenderness, O'Malley laid his hand on the servant's arm.
"Let it go James, in two weeks we will have a new pastor."
The hand on his arm felt repulsive as James stared into the face of the devil. Turning away, O'Malley walked out of the personage and into the night.
RIVER OF FIRE