Entering the Third Hour of the Last Third of My Life - It Has Been Good

Chapter 7 -
The following week, a truck backed up to Father Danny’s cabin at Camp Eden and two of the men from the camp began unloading Danny’s possessions and carrying them into the cabin. Preacher Davy heard the noise outside and came out just in time to see two large white oak rocking chairs being placed on the back of the truck.
“Why did you get those? I have two of them on my porch, you know that.”
“Yep, but have you ever thought I might cook supper sometimes and I don’t want to ask you to bring the chairs? Those things are heavy.”
“No, I haven’t thought about that because I’ve never known you to cook. So, honestly, it didn’t cross my mind.”
“Pardon me, Martha Stewart, let me rephrase that. Have you ever thought I might pick up something at McDonald’s–“
”Okay, that’s better. Mrs. Peele haggle with you on the chairs?”
“No, I thought about that. You bought the two chairs we had been using, so I went somewhere else.”
“Somewhere else?”
“Yea, same place Mrs. Peele bought hers, front porch of Cracker Barrel.”
“Cracker Barrel? That old fox told me they were handmade in the Adirondacks. That’s why I paid so much.”
“Hmmm, all I can think of is P.T. Barnum.”
“P.T. Barnum, you mean ‘There’s a sucker born every minute’.”
“I didn’t say it, you did.”
Davy just smiled, shook his head and picked up a box from the back of the truck.
Later that evening, Davy and Danny were sitting on Danny’s new porch when Mrs. Ramerez, another lady and a man came up carrying baskets of food.”
“Mrs. Ramerez, you shouldn’t have.”
“You and Padre Davy shouldn’t have done what you did for me and my daughter.”
“Have you talked to Ramona? How is she doing?” asked Danny.
“Fine, thanks to you two. It was a long trip, but she survived. She’ll be okay and the baby will be beautiful.”
“I thought we might hear something from Raul’s gang buddies, but evidently those gangs aren’t as close as I assumed.”
Mrs. Ramerez turned to the man and translated what Danny had just said into Spanish. The man grinned.
“Did I say something funny? Asked Danny.
“No, not really, I forgot, you and Padre Davy do not know.”
“Know what?” said Davy and Danny at the same time.
Mrs. Ramerez looked at the man and said “Tell them”.
The man laughed, shook his head and said something in Spanish. The man, Davy and Mrs. Ramerez roared with laughter.
“Come on, tell me.”
“It is funny,” said Davy. “They figured Raul’s gang buddies would be back, and they were, but a few of the men were there with shotguns to greet them at the gate. This happened for two nights and each night, while the men held the guns on the gang, someone went down the line of motorcycles slipping a knife into each one of their tires.”
“They didn’t come back?”
“Oh yes, two nights later, but if you will remember, beside the front gate there is a walkway.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“The walkway is just wide enough for a motorcycle to pass through.”
“Okay. Then they got in.”
“Only a few feet. Seems some boards with nails mysteriously appeared in the path. The gate was locked so several of the bandits roared through the walkway. Blam, blam, blam, blam. Every one of their tires.”
“So they got tired of that twenty mile hike back to town?”
“Very tired. Haven’t seen them since. But, in case they do, there’s some nice nail boards waiting,” said Mrs. Ramerez.
Mrs. Ramerez sat the food up on a small table on Danny’s front porch and the man set the two rocking chairs in place. Then, with nothing more said, the two motioned for Danny and Davy to sit.”
“I guess you’re moved in, Father West.”
“I guess I am, Preacher Tate.”
Davy shook his head and said, “When we were altar boys, way back then who would have ever figured you and I would have been here you an Episcopalian and me a damn Baptist?”
“That’s right, that’s what we used to call them, damn Baptists.”
“It’s been a long time, Davy.”
“Yes, but sitting here in this beautiful place–“
”I know. You’re right.”
“Not to change the subject,” said Danny, “but did you notice we had visitors at church Sunday.”
“Yea, six from St. Egbert’s and four from Meredith Baptist.”
“I don’t think we should make much of it. I have all ideas they were just curious. They want to know why would two upstanding ministers from two of the wealthiest churches in the city want to be with a bunch of migrant laborers?”
“Yea, and you, one of the best preachers–“
”You know, you keep saying that, and maybe it’s so, but have you figured you might be a damn good Episcopal priest?”
“What do you mean?”
“You might be good at what you do. No, maybe you aren’t the preacher Davy Tate is, but Davy Tate lost the enthusiasm for the communion and the ritual that you have a long time ago. That means that Davy Tate isn’t the priest that you are. You ever consider that?”
“No, can’t say that I have.”
“Well, start!”
Danny looked at Davy and nodded. “It’s good we can talk it, but are we doing the right thing for our people?”