Today Lunch

That afternoon, like most Sunday afternoons, Camp Eden was quiet. Some people had gone fishing, others had gone to town, but most were in their cabins resting for another week of hard work yet to come. Danny walked the few yards to Davy’s cabin. When he got there, Davy was in his rocking chair sipping a Coke. “Have you got another one of those?” he asked.
“Got one fresh and cold right here beside your chair.”
“You knew I was coming.”
“I sort of imagined you would be along.”
“You knew what was going to happen this morning.”
“Yep, I did.”
“How did you know?”
“You told me so.”
“Me?” questioned Danny.
“You said I was a good preacher.”
“You are. This morning proved it. But I wasn’t the one who needed proof. You did.”
“Then, I guess you were right.”
“We pick up the girl in the morning?”
“At ten o’clock.”
“Get enough for the ticket?”
“More than enough, you want to go with her?”
“Can’t say that I do, will there be enough for her to get by?”
“More than enough. We did good.”
“Yes, Padre Tait, we did good. No, back up. You did good.”
At ten o’clock the next morning Davy and Danny were parked outside the Mendez Apartment. A small Latino girl slipped out the front door and into the car. Within a half hour, she was on a bus to Mexico and to safety.
“We did good, Padre Danny?”
“We did good, Padre Davy.”
“I’ll be staying at the camp tonight,” said Danny.
“Why? The worst is over.”
“You think so? I don’t believe that tattooed behemoth who came to the car the other day would agree.”
“You think he’ll come tonight?”
“Yes, I believe he will.”
“What do we need to do?”
“That’s funny.”
“What’s funny?”
“That you would think I have the least idea.”
“Yea, that is funny.”
Yet, later that night, they heard a commotion from the direction of Mrs. Ramerez’ cabin. “Father West,” said Davy, “I do believe our guest has arrived.”
“Yes, Reverend Tate, I do believe you are right.”
The two rushed to Mrs. Ramerez’ cabin and saw Raul Mendez holding a knife to Mrs. Ramerez’ throat. “Tell me, bitch, where is she. I know she’s here.”
“Good evening, Raul,” said Danny as they walked through the door. “You seem to be an intelligent man and I’m sure you have looked around your mother-in-law’s cabin, now where in the hell could she hide anyone in this tiny cabin? Go ahead, look around.”
The man sort of grunted. He knew Danny was right.
“Put the knife down, stupid. Mrs. Menendez doesn’t know where her daughter is. Look at her, she’s terrified. If she knew, she would have already told you.”
The man looked at Mrs. Ramerez, once more grunted and lowered the knife. “That means you know where she is, then Padre,” he said as he lifted the knife toward Davy.
“Me, I don’t have the least idea,” he said as he moved away from the door and toward the back of the cabin.
Raul turned and pointed the knife toward Danny who was also drifting toward the back. “Then you know,” he said as he shook the knife toward Danny.
“Me?” said Danny. “Why would I know?”
“Somebody here knows where my wife is and if somebody don’t start talkin’ somebody’s gonna’ start dyin’”
“Now, Raul, aren’t you in enough trouble as it is? Why would you want to make it worse?”
“I ain’t in no trouble, you focks is the ones that’s in trouble. An’ if someone–“
”Raul,” said Danny, “I don’t believe the men standing behind you holding the guns would agree with you.”
“Real cute, Preacher man. Now, I’m supposed to turn around an’ you hit me in the head. Ain’t that the way it works? No, Padre, I ain’t that stupid. Ain’t nobody behind me.”
With nothing said, one of the men standing behind Raul tapped him on the shoulder with the barrel of his shotgun.
“Father Danny,” asked Davy, “isn’t this the place where somebody is supposed to imply how stupid it is to bring a knife to a gunfight?”
“You know, Pastor Davy, I believe it is. Now, Raul, if you’ll just sit there on the floor and let the men tie you up, I believe the Sheriff should be here soon. You won’t have to wait long. You should be in jail in plenty of time for breakfast. You should be there in time for a lot of breakfasts.”
“Go to hell, Padre. I ain’t goin’ to jail. You see, I ain’t done nothin’.” The man began to grin.”
“I don’t know about that Raul,” said Davy, “three counts of attempted murder should send you away for a long time.”
“I ain’t tried to murder you, or nobody else.”
“Now here, I would have to disagree with you, Raul. You pointed a knife at me. I believe that’s one count. Didn’t he point a knife at you, Father West?”
“That he did and shook it too. I saw murder in his eyes and I trembled for my life.”
“Sorry, Raul, that’s count two. And Mrs. Ramerez, that’s number three.”
“That old bitch ain’t testifying against no one. Look at her, she’s scared shitless.”
Mrs. Ramerez shook her head and smiled. “That is where you are wrong, son-in-law, you are going down.”
“Yea, Raul, I figure by the time you get out, you’ll have forgotten all about your wife.” Then Davy laughed. “Matter of fact, the way I hear it is in prison, by the time you get out, you’ll have forgotten about women entirely.” One of the men translated what Davy had said into Spanish and all the men laughed.
The two of them watched as the sheriff’s car moved away. “You shouldn’t have said what you did about how it’s going to be in prison for Raul,” said Danny.
“Why, it’s true.”
“I know it’s true, but I also know I’m going to have years of laughter from my mental picture of Raul and the boys.”