Chapter 3. THAT OLD DIME RELIGION
I tossed and turned most of the night so excited about the stranger. Dreamt I was dressed all in black, wearing a silver six-shooter on each hip and a cowboy hat pulled low over my eyes. Mongo and I were chasing cattle rustlers and horse thieves and various varmints….
When I woke up, the sun was high in the sky, and Mongo was sound asleep, his puppy breath blowing in my face. Jumped up, looked out the window, saw the little red truck was parked there alright. I hadn’t dreamt that.
Nobody else was around, not even the dogs.
The pup was hungry as usual so I feed him his breakfast. I fixed a glass of juice and a bowl of granola for myself. Then the two of us went to see where everybody was.
We’d no sooner stepped outside when a strange car came down the driveway, one of those indistinguishable Japanese station wagons shaped like a green jelly bean. Rhino got really upset with me when I forgot to close the gate, which was almost never, but he often didn’t close it himself, especially if he was feeling lazy, which was almost always.
A couple of bumper stickers decorated the front. DO YOU KNOW THE WAY?, one sticker asked. I’VE FOUND IT!, answered the other. Whoever it was, they looked lost to me.
The car came to a stop and two men stepped out. Each was dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and a flowery necktie. Shiny shoes. One man, the younger one, wore a crewcut. The older man had a bunch of long hairs from one side of his head greased down and combed over the top, clear across to the other side. I figure so he wouldn’t look bald the way he obviously did. Like a basketball with hair on it.
“A glorious morning to you, little brother,” the crewcut said.
“Praise God from whom all blessings flow,” the basketball head recited.
“Amen,” the crewcut said.
I didn’t know whether to pray or hide.
“Are you home alone?” the younger one asked.
“Yes. No. I mean, somebody must be here,”
“Bring’em on out then,” the basketball head said, moving toward the house. Straight at us. Mongo was hiding behind me now, peering out from between my legs. “We have come to share the word of the Lord.”
“Hallelujah,” the crewcut practically shouted, as the dipsy duo advanced toward me. Waving bibles like clubs.
“Nobody’s home,” I blurted.
That stopped them.
“Well, have you taken the Word into your heart? Have you seen the Way?,” Basketballhead said, his hair getting greasier as he got closer.
“You can’t have everlasting peace, if you don’t receive His forgiveness for your sins,” the crewcut said, nearer still. He had bad breath I could smell from an impossible distance and a pimply complexion. “These books will show you how to get to Heaven,” he said, shoving a couple of thin, shiny pamphlets into my hand.
“You want to go to Heaven, don’t you?,” the younger man asked.
I did want to go to heaven, but I was hoping to get to high school first. The two men towered above me as Mongo cowered underneath. He started to growl protectively. Ineffectually.
“Now, these books – God’s Okay. How Are You Doing? and Hell Is Just Another Way Of Saying I’m Sorry – are not available in any stores. You can’t go to Wal-Mart and find The Word. Normally, you’d be expected to pay up to $19.95 for them,” the older man said, his words coming faster and faster. Droning over me. “Tell you what I’m going to do. In His Name, for His Glory….”
“Hallelujah!” the crewcut interrupted.
The older man gave him a dirty look but didn’t miss a beat. “I am willing to include, at no additional cost, this revised, abridged version of the New Testament For Teens, The Bible’s Greatest Hits, like I said, at no additional cost, for just $10.”
“Amen,” the younger man said. “You don’t want to go to Hell, do you?”
My mind was swimming. Drowning.
“You do have $10, don’t you?,” the basketball head said. “You can find $10, can’t you?”
Pressing closer.
“Maybe inside the house?”
Closer.
“Leave.
“The.
“Boy.
“Be.”
Startled by the sudden warning, slow hard words spoken with a razor’s edge, the two men jumped back a couple of steps.
Thank God for Barker Ajax.
Basketballhead immediately swelled up with indignation. “We’re here to spread the Word.”
“You’re spreading something alright,” Barker said, moving from around back of the house.
“We wanted only to save this youngster’s soul from the fires of Eternal Damnation,” the crewcut said timidly.
“His soul’s doing just fine, thank you.”
Barker kept walking toward us, growing larger with every step. The intruders kept backing up.
“And yours, sir?,” Basketballhead parried, somewhat plaintively. “Has your soul been saved?”
“I’ve read the good book,” Barker replied as he reached my side. “I’ve seen the movie.” He put his hand around my shoulder protectively. “If I was you, I’d think about saving myself.”
Barker gestured with a slight nod of his head. The two men turned.
The Black Gang, fur bristled, hackles raised, ears flattened, lips curled, tail lifted, teeth bared, stood between them and their car. No doubt about it, the big dog was an above-average communicator.
They got the message. I could see the adam’s apples in their throats bob up and down. Mongo started to bark, feeling brave all of a sudden.
“We meant no harm,” the younger man said.
The older man began to sweat profusely. “Yes, that’s true. We came here on a mission… a mission of….” He couldn’t even talk. His watery eyes met Barker’s. Begging.
“Gang, come.”
The big dog trotted over to us without so much as a glance at the two men, who visibly flinched as he passed by.
“Gentlemen, go.”
Which they did, almost knocking each other over in their haste to reach the safety of the car. Mongo boldly chased after them. The puppy peed on a rear tire, just before it kicked up gravel in a frantic escape.
“Are you okay?,” Barker asked, palming my head, ruffling my hair.
“Sure,” I said, even then a little unsettled. Then, more confidently. “I wasn’t about to give them any money.”
“That’s good. Last I heard, God was free for the asking.”