Coming Along

Chapter 10 -

Davy was awakened by the sound of one of the rocking chairs on his front porch. It wasn’t unusual for one of the children from the camp to get into one of the rockers, but it was five o’clock in the morning. The children were asleep long ago. Davy pulled aside the window shade. It was Danny sitting in the chair. Davy threw on his robe and went out onto the porch.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yea, I was about to wake you up.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“I guess it’s the same things that may have concerned Martin Luther, and John Calvin and what was the name of that Anglican priest who started the Baptist faith?”
“John Smythe.”
“Yea, John Smythe.”
“They’re all people who began new Christian denominations.”
“Aren’t you putting yourself up on a pretty high level?”
“Not really, but I believe it’s us.”
“Oh, us, okay,” said Davy, “but if I remember my history correctly. Those people didn’t set out to start new denominations, they just wanted to correct what was already there.”
“I believe you’re right and I want to ask you a question.”
“Shoot,” said Davy.
“What is the Baptist Episcopal church trying to do?”
Davy hesitated, then replied, “Trying to do the same thing, trying to correct what is already there.”
“What we have right now is good. Heck, I’d almost say perfect, but one day, a Green or a Hamm or somebody is going to come along and try to change the whole thing.”
“You’re right. For greed or his ego, probably for greed.”
“We can’t let that happen.”
“No, but doesn’t that open a catch-22?”
“You mean a bunch of rules to protect what we’ve got that actually creates something worse than what we had?”
“I can’t think of a better way of putting it.”
“That’s why you’re out here at five o’clock in the morning?”
“I was going to wake you up, but I just decided to sit for a while before I do. At first, it seemed simple. We just keep on doing what we’re doing.”
“Then you figured in human nature and it was no longer simple, right?”
“Right.”
“Obviously, you’ve been up most of the night thinking about this.”
“Yes, several nights. Many nights.”
“Okay,” said Davy, “Let me piece it together. Make up a bunch of rules and it becomes like the Episcopal Church or, God forbid, the Catholic Church. Don’t have any rules and it becomes like the Baptist Church and we lose what we’ve gained.”
“I guess you’ve got it. No rules and how long is it going to be before everything will have to be done in an hour? And, when that happens–“
”We’re back to where we started, right?”
“Right.”
“Really, this is a pretty stupid thing for us to discuss. There shouldn’t be a time limit on God.”
“Maybe not, but there is. If it makes you feel better, we didn’t create it.”
“No, and Luther didn’t start the corruption in the Catholic Church, or your man Smythe begin infant baptism. Do you think that made them feel any better?”
In the dark, Davy saw the slight outline of Danny’s smile. “How do we answer the questions in church sometimes, ‘I don’t know, I wasn’t there’.”
“Right now, what we have is new. What happens when the people have heard the same thing before? Are they going to want to listen to it all over again?”
“I don’t know. The Catholic mass has been the same for well over a thousand years. The Episcopal and Lutheran, nearly five hundred. They’re almost the exact same every time, yet, people still come. Bringing it back to the bare truth, the black churches are packed every Sunday and you can’t tell me they haven’t heard the same sermon before.”
“This is true. There’s no such thing as a brand new sermon.”
“Then why are they there?”
“I would hope they are there wanting to spend some time thinking about their creator. Isn’t that the crux of it?”
“I guess so, because if they’re there for entertainment, we’re way behind.”
 Once again, Davy saw the outline of Danny’s smile. “What is it?”
"I was just thinking. What you just said may be nothing short of brilliant.”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do people go to see the Hamms and those television preachers?”
“Because it’s a show, a well-coordinated show. It’s entertainment.”
“That’s what I was thinking. They take emotion to a new high.”
In the dark, Danny couldn’t see Davy, but he was nodding.
“What are we offering then?”
“I would say a form of completeness. We describe what is in the Bible and in the sermon, we make it come alive. It’s complete. Remember when we saw Hamm steal those services from us? Billy-Bob and Bubba and I wanted to sue him, but you said no.”
“I never said no.”
“No, you said nothing. Why?”
“You want to know th truth?”
“Certainly.”
“Because even if a crook like Hamm accidently brings someone to God, that’s one more person who has been brought to God.”
“Doesn’t that answer your question then? We’re going to have crooks. They’ve been in every religion and faith since religion began. So what? We do what’s right and if we do it well enough, we’ll be okay and the Baptist Episcopal Church will survive. We lead by example, not written order.”
At that very moment, the sun broke over Saint David’s and Saint Daniel’s Baptist Episcopal Church. A bright beam illuminated the front of the church and the steeple. Danny looked at Davy. “I believe the boss is letting us know he agrees.”

El Tap day

Danny looked at Davy and for a moment he was quiet. He was in thought. Then he said, “The way I’m taking this, you are entirely wrong. Let’s look at this thing in a different way. When we were ordained, it was like getting a driver’s license. My license came with a map. It told me where to drive, when and how. It’s called the Book of Common Prayer and it’s been hanging around for the last five hundred years. Yours, on the other hand, let’s you drive anywhere. You can drive fast, you can drive slow. You can drive anywhere you want to go. It also allows you to drive like a damn idiot or like someone with sense. You can run people over or you can take them where they need to go. Davy, it’s up to you.”
“I just guess I don’t want it to be up to me. I do like the Catholic ‘that’s the way it is’ with the catechisms and missals. I like your Book of Common Prayer. At least you have a roadmap. The Baptist churches are all different. Some believe one thing, some believe another. The ‘saved’ thing. . .”
Danny nodded.
“Some Baptists believe that, some don’t. It’s confusing, Danny. I think that beyond immersion and the Bible being the word of God, it’s anybody’s call. Every Baptist church is different. I don’t like that. Like I said, at least you have a roadmap.”
Danny nodded then smiled. “I believe it was in a wheat field not to far from here not too long ago that some fella said something about someone changed the world when they sailed west.”
Davy looked up and smiled.
“Davy, I’m sure those guys wanted a roadmap too, but all their roadmaps led to the east.”
Davy nodded. “Yes, I guess they did.
Danny stood. “Come with me a second,” he said.
Davy followed Danny out the front door to the chapel. Danny stood by the sign in the front and pointed at the chapel. “Davy, they gave us this chapel because of something we did for the people here. It wasn’t for preaching or ritual or any of that God stuff. It was just for something we did. But come Sunday morning, this little chapel will have people standing outside wanting to get in. They’ll be people out here sitting in lawn chairs. And, it won’t be because we removed a selfish farmer from their lives or got rid of some gang-bangers. It will be because we are giving them God. The church uptown will be packed. Green Valley, a church you couldn’t pay people to come in a few weeks ago will be full. Okay, so maybe you did make a few people feel guilty. So what? That’s history. You said it yourself. If you think making people feel guilty is crappy preaching, there’s not one damn reason to do it. If people want to feel guilty, if that’s how they measure good preaching, those places are a dime a dozen. They can find those places, they can wallow in it, but it won’t be here, okay?”
Davy wiped the tears from his eyes. “Okay.” As they turned to walk away, Danny noticed the first five words on the sign. “Saint Davy’s and Saint Danny’s” and thought to himself, All we can do is try.

Tomorrow... El Tap

“Danny, I don’t want to ever give another sermon designed to make people feel guilty. If that’s what people call a good sermon, I pray to God I never give another good sermon.”
“That’s simple, don’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“If you don’t want to give another sermon that makes people feel guilty, then don’t. Last time I checked, we didn’t have anyone telling us what we had to do or say.”
Davy looked at Danny. The stress he was experiencing was obvious. “I just–“
”I know. I know.”

It would be a couple of days before Davy and Danny would talk again. But, on the third morning, Danny opened his door and Davy stood there holding a McDonald’s bag. “I’m cooking breakfast,” he smiled.
“Good, come on in. No, better still, sit down on the porch and I’ll get the coffee pot.”
As they rocked, Danny sensed a change in Davy, a good change. His feeling was verified when Davy said, “Thank you for listening the other day. I was really down. I needed to talk and I don’t know anyone who would understand as well as you.”
“You know I’m there any time you need me. And, to be honest, I really didn’t understand what you were going through. Yes, some of your sermons were the guilt stuff–“
”Only some?”
“Yes, only some. But, I assumed when you went Baptist, you accepted that was the way it was and were willing to live with it.”
“No, it’s hard to explain. You still do what we both did when we were children, and I don’t blame you. You have no reason to see it any other way.”
“I really have no idea what you’re talking about. All I know is we grew up Catholic. You changed to Baptist. I changed to Episcopal. For me, it was no big deal. I got rid of the Pope and changed a unbelievably massive hierarchy and set of rules for a difficult to imagine hierarchy but somewhat acceptable set of rules. And no, I didn’t understand what you were saying about the guilt for gold thing, not really. I have never given a sermon that would make anyone feel guilty. I wouldn’t know how, I never tried. There was no reason for it. The Episcopal Church was like the Catholic Church, the guilt was already there. It was built in. If you were Catholic, you automatically felt guilty about something. There was no reason for me to make someone feel worse.”
Davy halfway smiled at Danny. “Okay, obviously I have you confused.”
“Now, we have found something we can agree on.”
“I’ll try to explain. There are Baptists. Then there are Baptists. Then there are other Baptists.”
Danny puffed out a smile. “Oh God, had I known it was that simple–“
”No, wait a minute. If someone goes into a Catholic church today in Rome, Georgia, they’re going to see basically the same ritual and hear somewhere about the same sermon they would hear in Rome, Italy, or Istanbul or Montego Bay, Jamacia. There won’t be a hell of a lot of difference in the Episcopal Churches in the different cities. The languages may be different, but the gist of the thing is going to be pretty much the same, agreed?”
“Agreed, the ritual especially.”
“Okay now, so far, you’re with me?”
Danny nodded.
“Alright, if six different people walk into six different Baptist churches in the same exact town, they’re going to hear six entirely different sermons, see six different ways of doing things. Forget about Rome or Istanbul or Montego Bay. I’m talking about in the same city.”
Danny just looked at Davy.
“And, Danny, those sermons can range from something kind and gentle, like you would expect to hear in a Methodist church, to a damn snake charmer bellowing hellfire and brimstone at the top of his lungs.” Davy grinned, “Of course the snake charmers tend to keep to the mountains.”
Danny nodded, “Of course. But, that still doesn’t explain–“
”Be patient, I’m getting there.”
“My first exposure to the Baptists was in the Marines. There was a chaplain at Camp Lejune who was absolutely wonderful.”
“Let me guess,“ said Danny. “The kind, gentle Methodist type.”
“Exactly,” smiled Davy. “I fell in love with what he was doing, with what he said, with the way he related to the Marines in his congregation. I loved his one-on-one. I wanted to be just like him. For a long time, I was just like him, or I hope I was like him. To me, he was Baptist and I was Baptist. It was good.”
“Then came your step-father.”
Davy nodded.
“Danny, I never for a moment saw one bit of difference between my step-father and Captain Miller, the chaplain at Camp Lejune. The two opened their mouths and magic came out. I was actually jealous of them both. But I promise you that I did not see for one minute. No, for one second what my step-father was doing. Not until Reverend Green at Green Valley. I heard him and I was disgusted. He was using the Bible to make people feel guilty. And, what really got to me was that when I was listening to Green, I was also hearing my step-father.” Tears welled up in Davy’s eyes.
“And Danny, I was hearing some of my own sermons. My own damn sermons,” he shouted.
“Danny, I heard Green and I heard the lowest rung on the religious ladder, a bottom feeder, and Danny, I was hearing me.”

Tuesday

Danny shook his head and smiled. “What is the one thing we can’t control? We don’t try to control it, but what is there in our service we can’t control?”
Billy-Bob answered, “How many questions we’re asked.”
“Right,” shouted Danny as he pointed to Billy-Bob. “But, the big difference for us is that if we get another question or two, we answer it. No big deal. It costs us nothing. For Reverend Hamm, every minute he’s on the air cost him about a hundred and seventy dollars. That’s ten thousand dollars an hour and I promise you, Hamm didn’t get an extra ten thousand dollars in contributions for his extra hour tonight. I guarantee you, the bastard went in the hole. Way in the hole.”
“So, Danny, what do you think is going to happen next week?”
“My guess is the Hamm show will just be the Hamm show, just like always. The days of Hamm’s Baptist Episcopal show are over.”
The six were in awe the following week when Hamm was back to his regular format. There was no moving bible reading, no moving sermon, just business as usual complete with his advertisements for books, trinkets and other religious items. . . all for a love offering.
But before Hamm’s show ended, he came on the air sitting behind a desk. It seemed that an “unseen expense” had befallen his ministry and in order to survive on the air he was asking for additional contributions from his partners and supporters. His plea was complete with the sound of a choir in the background and lighting befitting his effort.
“You think he’s gone?” asked Davy.
“No, not hardly. They exposed Popoff and his wife for fraud thirty years ago and he’s back on TV peddling miracle water. Bakker was a crook. The whole world saw he was a crook. They sent him to prison and he’s back on television selling overpriced food and generators for the ‘end time’ to come. Swaggart admitted ‘He had sinned’. No, those people are like cockroaches. You just can’t get rid of them.”
“I wonder why?” said Davy thinking out loud.
“The two-edged sword.”
“Two-edged sword?”
“Yes, forgiveness. It is the blessing of Christianity. It is the curse of Christianity. It’s wonderful to forgive those who should be forgiven. It’s one of the greatest attributes man can posses. But, there are those who know its dangers and are more than willing to use it. The Jim Bakkers, the Peter Popoffs, the teenage child on drugs. They use forgiveness like a great violinist plays a Stradivarius. They have nothing to lose. Whatever they do, they’ll be forgiven, they know it, and they keep coming back for more.”
“Sad.”
“Yes, my friend,” said Danny, “it is sad.”
“Will he be back?”
“Who knows?”
Davy exhaled loudly. “I gave the deacons at Meredith Baptist my notice.”
Danny nodded but said nothing.
“You didn’t have to. Any of us would pick up the slack if you need help.”
“No. That’s not it.”
Danny expected more, but there was only silence.
“Okay, you want to tell me why you quit?” shouted Danny.
Davy looked Danny straight in the eye, said nothing, but only stared. Then, he asked a question. “Do you ever listen to what you say?”
“You mean in a sermon?”
“No, just what you say?”
“You’ve lost me.”
“When we were talking to Green the other night. If you’ll remember, I told him that I thought guilt for gold was a sleezebag way of doing things. I accused him of trying to use guilt to increase contributions.”
“Okay, I remember that.”
“I listened to what I had said, Danny. And that is what I was taught. That’s what my stepfather taught me. Oh, he never said making people guilty would boost contributions, but making people feel guilty was his measure of a good sermon, a good Baptist sermon, the ones I’m always praising. It’s guilt, Danny.”
“Don’t tell me about guilt. You and I were raised up in the mothership of guilt, the Catholic Church.”
“Right, and who owns more banks, companies and industries than anyone on the planet?”
“Let me guess, the Catholic Church.”
“Right, but I don’t care about that, they’ve had two thousand years to guilt people out of their money. What I care about is some people actually measure a good sermon by how guilty the thing makes you feel. Even if you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“This is upsetting you, isn’t it?”
“Damn right it is. I don’t want to make people feel guilty. I want to make them feel good. People shouldn’t embrace God because they feel guilty or they fear Hell. They should embrace him because embracing him makes them feel good. You have repeatedly told me that my sermons were good. Were they good because they made you feel good or because they made you feel guilty?”
Danny said nothing at first, then he said, “Both.”
“Damn it, Danny, I was doing the same thing as that scumbag Green was doing and even the same things as that piece of trash Hamm. I listened to his sermons. They made you feel guilty.”
“They were designed to. It pumped up contributions.”
“What does the intent matter? A sermon designed to make people feel guilty is a sermon that makes people feel guilty regardless of the intent.”
“I think you’re overreacting.”
“You do? You think God wants people to come to him because they love their creator or because they fear going to hell? Which do you think?”
Danny did not respond.
“Making people feel guilty is crap, Danny. It’s a cheap way to increase collections. It’s sure as hell no way to bring people to God.”
“I’m not going to argue with you.”
“In a way, I wish you would. In a way, I wish you could.”
“Davy, I think what we have now is good. We don’t try to get people to God by threats or ‘if you don’t change, you’re going to Hell’.”
“We don’t, do we?”
“No we don’t.”

Moving Forward

That afternoon Danny and Davy were in their usual place rocking on Danny’s porch in the two white chairs.
“You ever feel proud,” asked Davy.
“Oh yes, I’m feeling it right now. Danny, we have a lot to be proud of.”
“Yes, but pride goeth before the fall.
“Proverbs or Shakespear?”
“Does it matter?”
“No, not really, but let’s enjoy it before we fall.”
“Okay, let’s.”
Just then the phone rang. Davy answered it. “That was Bubba. He said to turn the television to channel fourteen and hurry.”
“Channel fourteen, that’s one of those Christian channels,” said Danny as he punched the remote control. “Here it is.”
“The woman was confused by Jesus’s statement and noticed Jesus had nothing in which to draw water for his drink. When she mentioned this to Jesus he told her that if one drinks from the well, in time they would again be thirsty, but if one drinks from the well of God, they would never again thirst. When the woman confided in him that she believed the Messiah would someday come and reveal all, Jesus confided. . .”
“What is this?” asked Davy.
“I don’t know what the show is, but what’s being said is my exact words from when Billy-Bob and I did the service on the woman at the well, what, two months ago. I recognize it. That was my part.”
In a few minutes, when it was time for the sermon, a familiar face came onto the screen. It was Danny and Davy’s old friend Reverend Hamm.
“I am not believing this,” said Davy. “That low-bred scum. We wouldn’t do it for him, so he stole it.”
Danny said nothing.
They sat there and watched the rest of the telecast. Just as the show was finishing, Bubba came in followed by Billy-Bob. “What are we going to do?” shouted Billy-Bob.
“My suggestion is we sue the son-of-a-bitch,” said Davy.
For the next few minutes thoughts and suggestions were shouted back and forth. The whole time, Danny said nothing. When things quieted down Danny asked, “Are you all through?”
When no one said any more Danny began. “First, I don’t know if there’s any such thing as a copyright on a church service and neother do I care. Second, I don’t like Hamm or any of those television preachers. And third, wait three weeks. On the third week Hamm goes down.
The others shot looks back and forth at each other and at Danny. Danny smiled and said, “Three weeks. On the fourth week you will know.”
At first, all their pleas for an answer to what Danny was talking about went unanswered, until Danny said, “We’re going to play a little game amongst ourselves. We’re going to see how smart old Danny is.”
More looks around the room.
“Bubba, what is the high point of our service?”
Bubba shifted in his seat. “I would probably say the way we present the scripture, it’s almost theatric.”
“I agree,” said Davy.
“Okay, I agree too,” said Danny and what’s an important part of that scripture service?”
For a moment there was total silence until Billy-Bob shouted out, “The questions and answers.”
Danny looked at Davy. “This is a good guy you have here. Where did you find him?”
Billy-Bob grinned from ear to ear.
“Okay,” said Danny, “Next week we’ll all meet here and together we’ll watch Reverend Hamm make a fool of himself. And,” Danny made some mystical motions with his hands, “I will tell what will happen before it happens. I will show you my mysterious ability as a prophet. Now, since we’re all together, is there anything we need to talk about? Call Dominick and Gorge.”
What had begun as a shocking witness of Reverend Hamm ended as a party among the six Baptist Episcopal ministers lasting over three hours. Their discussions ranged from plans for upcoming services to a few off-color jokes.
Just as planned, a week later the six of them gathered at Danny’s cabin and as he was passing out the cold drinks, Danny announced. “Hamm’s not the only one who can plan out an event. Let’s try this on for size. Last week Billy-Bob said one of the important parts of our service is the question and answer part. Everybody agree?”
Everyone nodded.
“Okay, Hamm did not do this last week. Am I right?”
Again, they nodded.
Danny put his hand to his head like some eastern mystic, “Then, I predict that tonight, Reverend Hamm will have a question and answer session.”
The others looked confused. Danny said, “Just wait and see.”
Hamm’s show began in the usual way with the usual hymns and ads offering books and trinkets for a love offering. In a couple of minutes a man came on the screen. “Then one of the twelve, called Judas Iscariot, went unto the chief priests, and said unto them, What will ye give me, and I will deliver him unto you? And they covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver. And from that time he sought opportunity to betray him.”
Gorge suddenly turned white and he shouted something in Spanish.
“English, Gorge, English,” said Danny.
“Si. That is the story of Judas. Dominick and I did it here at Camp Eden a few weeks ago. How in the world?”
Danny reached over to a table by his chair, picked up something and clicked it. “Tape recorder, Gorge, I guarantee you that every one of or services have been recorded.”
When the story of Judas concluded, the presenter asked, “Now, are there any questions?” Every eye jumped to Danny. “How did you–“
”Just keep watching,” said Danny.
As nine o’clock approached, someone said, “They’re probably going to show the other half next week.” But as nine o’clock passed, Danny stood and said, “We got him now.” and clapped his hands together. Everyone looked at Danny who said, “Just watch.”
About nine-twenty, Hamm stood and gave his sermon. Word for word it was the same sermon Dominick had given several weeks before. Afterwards, Hamm asked if there were any questions. At ten o’clock the questions were still coming, but the screen went black and a commercial came on.
Davy looked toward Danny. “Okay, Mr. Prognosticator or prophet or whatever you want to call yourself, what’s going on?”

Saturday Special

Normally, there wouldn't be anything on Saturday, but good news! The book is finished! Even so, there is about two more weeks of reading remaining for you here. During that two weeks, the book will be edited and submitted. Hopefully, in two weeks it will present itself on Amazon.com, Barnesandnoble.com and another dozen booksellers throughout the world. I received news today that my books are now available to the people of India. Gosh, I hope in my eleven books I didn't say anything bad about cows.
Have a nice Saturday,
Dan


After Green left, Davy settled down in one of Danny’s chairs. “You knew exactly how that was going to play out.”
“Sure I did.”
“How?”
“Those people had heard Green’s hellfire and brimstone tripe probably for years. But you know something? Eventually, people, any person, is going to say to himself, “You know, looking at all the terrible things going on in this world, maybe I’m not so bad after all.” At that point, all that Hellfire stuff becomes. . .  it becomes nothing. We gave them something upbeat. They liked it. Also, Green’s tithing scam had bled them dry.”
“I didn’t say anything about not believing in tithing in my sermon. How would they know?”
“No, you didn’t say anything about not believing in it in your sermon, but each one of them hugged me when they came out of Green Hill two weeks ago. When they did, I invited them again to Camp Eden.”
“Still, they–“
”Please come visit us at Camp Eden,” I asked each one, and then the three magic words.
“Magic words?”
I whispered, “We don’t tithe.”
“That is classic. That is beautiful, but still there was something more.”
“Yes, I didn’t know for sure until two weeks ago. Every one of the members of Green’s church came to Camp Eden. Then, the important part, they were all back again last Sunday.”
“So, you knew.”
“Oh yes.”
“Was your offer of eighty thousand low?”
“No, it was fair.”
“How would you know?”
“The tax value on the property is eighty-two eight.”
“You already checked it?”
“A week ago.”
“I cannot believe it, but have we got eighty thousand dollars?”
“Oh yes, and according to Mrs. Hernandez, a whole lot more.” Danny smiled. “I need for you to step out back with me.”
“Okay, what’s up?” asked Davy as they went out the back door of Danny’s cabin.
“A present for you.”
“A present?”
“Yes, a present,” said Danny as he lifted a canvas that was covering large carved object. It was a new sign with gold leaf lettering that said “Green Hill Baptist Episcopal Church”.
“You were certain.”
“I was certain,” Danny smiled. “You like?”
“I like.”
“Would you agree that Dominick and Gorge have their new church?”
“I believe they do, Good Father. I believe it will suit them well.”
The following Sunday, Green Hill Church was announced to the people of Camp Eden and Billy-Bob and Bubba’s Methodist Church. The following Sunday it was almost standing room only at Green Hill and Dominick and Gorge took to the church like the new opportunity it was.

Ready for Another Weekend

Davy and Danny did their last service at Green Hill and Davy’s sermon was one of his best. The twenty-two people in attendance all hugged Danny and Davy when the service was over. It appeared the brief time at Green Hill was now history. It appeared so until two weeks later. On Sunday afternoon, Reverend Green knocked on Danny’s door.
“Good afternoon, Reverend. Come in.”
“We need to talk.”
“Okay, do I need to call Pastor Tait?”
“I believe so.”
When Davy arrived and they were all seated, Green began. I didn’t have anybody in church today,” he said. “There was no one there last week either. I need you two to come back.”
“Reverend Green,” said Danny, “You didn’t approve of our way of doing things. You didn’t hesitate to tell us. You said we could do it our way, but each time we tried, you put your two cents into the service.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your announcement reminding people about their tithes–“
”Gentlemen, we do have a budget and certain bills–“
”Save me the sermon, Pastor. Neither Reverend Davy or I believe in tithing. It’s nothing but guilt for gold.“
”It’s in the bible.”
“Pastor, neither of us believe in tithing, but even so. You seemed hell bound to add a few words onto our sermons.”
“I felt the people needed–“
”We wouldn’t be interested in going back. And, Pastor, we wish you all the best.”
“What good is an empty church? I need you people to come back. I’m begging you.”
“Reverend,” said Davy, “Can I be perfectly honest with you?”
“Please do.”
“Okay, but I am only speaking for me, not Danny or anyone else. Like you, I am a Baptist. But there are some things about the Baptist, and Pentecostal, way of doing things I feel are outdated and honestly, disgusting. And, I see them going away and want to cheer. One is your way of preaching. I don’t think thirty or forty minutes of threats cuts it. Like I say, I think it’s disgusting and, frankly, nauseating.”
“I don’t follow you. I don’t threaten–“
”Come on, Reverend, give me a break. A half hour of telling people they’re sinners and if they don’t change, they’re going to spend eternity in Hell? You don’t think that’s a threat?”
“Reverend Tait, some people call that good preaching. I’ve often been called an excellent preacher,” said Green red faced.
“That’s great, Reverend. Some people may call you a good preacher. I call you a liar.”
Green’s mouth fell wide open.
“I don’t know how many people you had in your congregation when it was at its best, but–“
”I’ll have you know there was over three hundred there each and every Sunday. Three hundred listening to the word.”
“Three hundred listening to your words, Reverend Green. But, where are they now?”
Green made no attempt to answer, but only looked off it the distance.
Davy continued. “All that hellfire and brimstone crap is disgusting. Think about the people in your congregation, or at least the ones that were in your congregation. What sins had they committed? They maybe what, squeezed through a yellow light? Took a few pencils from work? They were basically good people. You know they were good people, but you also knew they felt guilt for running that light and taking those pencils so you used that guilt. You gave them all them hellfire shit, and that’s what it is, Reverend, it’s pure shit. You gave them all that hellfire shit because that was the sign of a good preacher? Is that why you did it, Revered, or was it because it translated out well in the collection plate? Which one was it, Reverend? Or, was it both?”
“So, you think you can tell me what is a sin?” shouted Green.
“No, Reverend, but Christ died for our sins, isn’t that right?”
“Yes, it says so in the bible.”
“If that’s the case, Reverend, I truly find it hard to believe that when Christ was on that cross, with blood coming out of every wound, and that when the sins of mankind were going through his mind, that someone running a red light, or some man picking up a few pencils, or a kid taking a pack of chewing gum was what was what he was thinking.”
“So you know what Christ was thinking?”
“No, Reverend, but with all the murders throughout history, all the things that were stolen, all the horrors of mankind, I just can’t see how running a red light fit in.”
Green was silent for a time, then said, “Gentlemen, I need your help.”
 Danny looked at Davy then said, “Reverend, I can appreciate your situation, but we have–“
”Will you buy my church?” shouted Green out of the blue.
“Hmmm, Reverend. This is certainly unexpected. How much would you want for the church?”
“I believe it should be worth about two hundred thousand dollars.”
Danny looked at Davy. “Could we use Pastor Green’s church?”
“Yes, but two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money.”
“I agree,” said Danny. “We’ll give you eighty thousand.”
“Eighty thousand,” shouted Green. “That church is worth–“
”Eighty thousand, take it or leave it.”
Green looked at Davy hoping for another option.
“Like the man said,” said Davy, “Take it or leave it.”
“I’ll take it.” said Green as he grabbed Danny’s hand to shake it.”

The Day of El Tap Tres Suave Poyo Tacos

As the months progressed, the Baptist Episcopal Church grew even larger. Besides Camp Eden and the Methodist Church in town, the pastors of two country churches approached Davy and Danny about showing them how the “new” church structure worked. Between Davy and Danny, Billy Bob and Bubba and Dominick and Gorge, they were well-equipped to give the little churches what they needed with the exception of one church, Green Hill Church about twenty miles outside of town.
Green Hill Church was the creation of Pastor Morris Green who called himself a Baptist minister, but never had any formal training. Davy and Danny had gone to Green Hill several times and given a service. The people seemed very responsive, the problem was not the congregation, the problem was Reverend Green.
“Okay, you’re the Baptist, and Green calls himself a Baptist, what do we need to do?” asked Danny.
“Danny, I can call myself an oak tree, but that doesn’t mean I can sprout leaves. To me, the man is an open book. He’s in it for the money. Just listen to his sermons. He tries to make every person in the congregation feel like crap. They’re all sinners and are doomed for hell,” shouted Davy. “Then, comes the collection plate. Salvation can be bought. You saw how he treated us. All the man is capable of dishing out is hellfire and brimstone. We don’t need that ‘you’re a sinner and you’re bound for hell’ crap. My suggestion is we bite the bullet on this one and leave Reverend Green to his own devices. The man’s a nut! He’s all but told us he doesn’t want our help. Why waste our time?”
“I don’t agree with you, Davy.”
“What do you mean you don’t agree? You heard his sermons. The man has one tune, change your ways or go to hell.”
“Oh, you’re right about that, the man is in it for the money. And his ‘repent’ stuff has got to be the lowest form of religion.  That and the seventy thousand dollar Cadillac he’s driving told me all I need to know the first time we saw him. No, that’s not what I mean.”
“Then what else is there?”
“The people. You saw their faces. When we explained that bible passage with feeling and detail and then followed it up with that killer sermon of yours, they were happy. They were really happy.”
“Hell Danny, I guess they were. If I had listened to his ‘you’re going to hell if you don’t change’ crap every week, I would have been happy too. I’ve seen it before. I sincerely doubt the man has ever read more than a few chapters of the bible. His sermon is always the same. It’s designed to make the people feel like shit and then try to buy their way out. Don’t you remember, he reminded them about their ‘tithes’? He’s got what, thirty, forty people in that church. I guess he is worried about their ‘tithes’. Somebody’s got to make the payment on that Cadillac. Damn. . . tithes, how low can you go?”
“Calm down, Dude. I’m not disagreeing with you on that. The man has taken religion to it’s lowest form. He’s only one step away from bringing in snakes. No, I don’t give a tinker’s damn about Green. But, I do care about the people.”
“Danny, Green came to us because his membership was falling off–“
”I know, Davy, and it will continue falling off as long as Green is there. But, he owns the church.”
“My suggestion is we pull the plug. We have too many good things going to worry about a bottom feeder like Green.”
“Okay, but you and I do one more service at Green Hill Church.”
“I don’t see why, but somehow I think you’re up to something.”
“Oh, I am. I’ll do the scripture, you do the sermon. And, in your sermon announce that it will be our last service at Green Hill and we invite the people to visit at Camp Eden and the Methodist Church.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s it.”

The Day Before El Tap

Chapter 9 -

It was late when Davy went to Danny’s and Davy knew Danny was having thoughts similar to what he was experiencing, because even as late as it was, Danny was outside in one of the white oak rocking chairs slowly moving back and forth.
“It’s getting too big, isn’t it?” Davy asked.
“Yep.”
“But it’s doing good.”
“Doing good, hell, it’s doing great.”
“You want to let’s find an elementary school and go back to punching bullies in the nose.”
“You know the answer to that as well as I do.”
“Yep, I know. It would be nice.”
“What’s wrong with us?”
“I don’t know, Davy. Every kid in seminary dreams of one day having a church with people lined up out the door begging to get in.”
“Yep, and we’ve got it, and don’t want it. We must be sick, really sick.”
“You remember how thankful those people at Greenwood Village were after we took care of that gang?”
“Oh yes, I think about it all the time.”
“You think about the party the night they gave us the church?”
“Obviously, you do too.”
“Oh yes, my God, oh yes.”
“Couldn’t we just slip away and –“
”No, Davy, I believe it’s gone too far. The church and all it stands for are too good, too big. I believe it is our destiny.”
“Destiny,” smiled Davy, “Who would have ever thought we would have a destiny?”
“Billy-Bob has two guys who want to join us.”
“Are they any good?”
“He says they are and Bubba agrees.”
“That’s good enough for me.”
“Me too,” agreed Davy. “You know, one day we are going to have to find a name for this new fangled faith, or religion, or whatever it is, did we ever decide which it is?”
“Not that I recall, and you’re right. We need to call it something and I’ve thought about it.”
“What did you come up with?”
“Not a thing. All the good names are taken.”
“Yep.”
“I don’t like Catholic, too much baggage there.”
“True, and Baptist has too many negatives.”
“I love ‘Church of God’ but that shouts uneducated and backwards and all that speaking in tongues crap.”
“True, besides, it’s taken. You got any drinks in the refrigerator?”
“Just stocked up. Go get you one.”
“Think I will,” said Davy as he stood and went inside.
When he came out, he popped the top on a can. “You know, Danny, what was the sweetest most innocent name you’ve ever seen on a church. I mean a name that was so innocent that it’s entirely pure.”
“I would have to say ‘Saint Davy’s and Saint Danny’s Baptist Episcopal Church’.”
“And I would agree. And, it’s grown what, a thousand fold since that night?”
“At least.”
“So if it works, don’t fix it.”
“Very true, but I’m not an Episcopal priest any more, I don’t guess. And I assume you are no longer a Baptist minister–“
”And you know something, Danny, I don’t give a damn. Bubba’s not a bishop any more, Billy-Bob and Dominick haven’t been ordained and I’m sure the new guys who talked to Billy-Bob aren’t ordained. That’s seven of us who aren’t anything. But you know something? Jesus had a dozen guys who weren’t anything. I think it was a pretty good example to follow.”
“Are you saying the Baptist Episcopal Church seems to be doing well?”
“No, Father Danny, I’m saying the Baptist Episcopal Church seems to be doing very well. And, as far as our titles, you were made a priest. I was made a minister. And if I recollect correctly, it was Father Daniel West, not Father Daniel West of the Episcopal church–“
”And it was Reverend David Tate,” said Danny, “Not Reverend Davy Tate of the Baptist church.”
“Right, Father West.”
“Right too, Reverend Tate.”
“I believe we’ve answered our question about our titles.”
“It does sound like it, Father West. The guys can call themselves whatever they like, whatever they’re comfortable with.”
“Sounds good to me. Reverend Billy-Bob of the Baptist Episcopal Church and Father Bubba of the same organization.”
“Is this a new milestone, Preacher Tate?”
Davy just smiled.
“I still wouldn’t mind busting a drug dealer or a pimp or two every now and then.”
“No, that certainly does have some appeal.”
“So, every now and then we’ll maybe bloody some bully’s nose?”
“Every now and then.”
“Should we buy a gun?” asked Davy.
“I don’t think so. The bullies are the ones with the guns. We don’t want to be bullies do we?”
“No. God gave us a brain. Let's use it.”

The Second Day of the Week

Billy-Bob broke the total silence when he asked if there were any questions. One man stood and said. “I don’t know if this is the right time or place or way to do this. This is my first time at a church like this. It won’t be my last. But, what I want to say is that my brother is here also, but he’s not sitting with me. We haven’t spoken in over thirty-years. Why he’s here, I don’t know, but what I want to say is I would love to forgive him and shake his hand, if he’ll let me.”
Another man across the church snapped to his feet with tears in his eyes and ran to the first man, grabbed his hand and hugged him. The entire church cheered and Billy-Bob ran to the two and held their hands high like a winning boxer.
Throughout the church, people stood, walked to other people and hugged them or shock their hands. Davy looked at Danny in amazement. The sight was hard to believe.

That night, Davy and Danny took a seat on Davy’s front porch.
“What we saw today was a miracle,” said Danny.
“Yes,” responded Davy, “Nothing less. Billy-Bob is good.”
“Just the fact that such a thing should happen. It was just wonderful.”
“I suppose you heard about Dominick and Gorge today.”
“No, something happen?”
“I would say so, they got a standing ovation.”
“A standing ovation? Davy, you and I have never gotten a standing ovation.”
Davy grinned. “Maybe they’re that much better than us.”
“God, that is great! And to be honest, I’m surprised that Billy-Bob didn’t get an ovation today.”
“I think he did,” said Davy. “All those people standing to hug each other and shake each other’s hands, what better ovation could somebody receive? And, I’ll be honest. You were good too.”

Monday Monday

Danny moved to his seat and Billy-Bob stepped to the pulpit. He silently looked over the people and began. “People are born with the ability to breathe. It is completely natural. It is not something we have to learn. The desire to eat and the desire for water are also completely natural. Had we been born on a desert island with no one else around, we would have these abilities. The ability to hate, on the other hand, is something we have to be taught. Someone, be it our parents, our siblings, someone, somebody has to teach us to hate. This is not new. I am certain that in cave-man times, people were taught to hate. One clan would hate another.”
“Hate was something very real in the time of Jesus. It was a fact of life. The Jews hated the Samarians. It was simple. If you were a good Jew, you didn’t associate with Samarians. You didn’t socialize with them. You didn’t do business with them. You certainly didn’t eat. . . or drink with them. Yet, not only did Jesus drink with this Samarian woman, she was the first that he told that he was the Messiah.”
“Right now, this very minute, there are people in this place, in this beautiful church, that you dislike. You notice I didn’t say hate, I said dislike. If there was someone in the congregation that you hated with the fervency that the Jews hated the Samarians, and, the Samarians hated the Jews, it would be simple. You wouldn’t be here today. You would refuse to sit in the same church with a Samarian, or if you were a Samarian, you would not sit in the same church with a Jew.”
Billy-Bob looked around the church smiling.
“Why do some of you look so surprised? This time in church is well known to be the most segregated hour in America. At this very moment, across America, people are sitting with people just like them. Much has changed since Jesus time, but this is not one of them. People are still more comfortable around their own.
“In a way it is almost humorous. I hear it all the time. Someone will say, ‘We have blacks in our church. We have six of them.’ In a way, they’re saying ‘Look at me, I’m a good Christian. I go to church with blacks.’ I believe if the good Christian heard this his response would be simple, ‘Hogwash’. The good Christian would know, that since you see those people as ‘different’, in your heart you are nothing but a bigot and hardly deserve to be called a ‘good Christian’.
“Later in the scripture, the disciples returned and questioned why Jesus would talk with a Samarian woman. Yes, Jesus’ disciples had hate and were amazed that Jesus, a Jew, would even speak to a Samarian. We can only imagine what they said to Jesus, ‘Come on, Jesus, let’s get out of here. These people are Samarians, we don’t want to be around them. We’re better than they are.’ What was Jesus’ response? Not words, but actions. He stayed two more days.”
“Doesn’t being a Christian mean something more than walking into a building once or twice a week and praying to Christ? Doesn’t it mean trying to be more like the example he set for us?”
Danny looked out at the congregation. The discomfort was obvious. Danny looked at Davy. He could see the small smile.
“When that person says he is a good Christian because he goes to church with six blacks, or Hispanics, or whites, or Italians, or whatever it is he doesn’t like. One must wonder how he would react if that number six suddenly changed to sixty. . . or even six hundred. Would he be there? We know the answer to that. It would have been easy for Jesus to say, ‘Look at me, I talked with a Samarian woman. I am a good person, admire me.’ It was a bit different when he stayed two days. Didn’t that say something entirely different? And, just a small hint. . . Those other people in your church. . . if you've counted them, you are a bigot.
“One time, a great preacher, a true man of God was delivering a sermon in a southern white church. I have no idea if he arranged it, or it happened on it’s own, but it doesn’t matter, because that day there was one lone little black girl sitting in the congregation. During his sermon he told the people to look in the direction of a person they hate. Every eye turned to the little black girl sitting alone near the front. Some even turned completely around in their seats to look at the little girl. Then, the preacher asked them to think. ‘Does this person they hate so intently feel love the same way they do? Does this person they hate love their family the same way they love their family?’ A few heads began to turn away from the little girl. The preacher asked, ‘did the one they hate feel fear the same way they do?’ more heads turned away. Finally, he asked, ‘Does that person want to be loved like you do?’ Suddenly, every head was facing forward. Not an eye was on the little girl. And, after church, the same people who had avoided, or entirely ignored, the little girl at the first of the service couldn’t get to her and welcome her quickly enough.”
Danny caught Davy mouthing “Whew”.
Billy-Bob continued. “Now I ask you to look toward that person that, I won’t say hate, I will say had rather not be around, and ask yourself if that person feels love the same way you do?” He was silent for a moment before he said, “Does that person love their family the same way you love your family?” After a pause, Billy-Bob said, “Does that person feel fear the same way you do?” Then, after a long pause, Billy-Bob asked, “Does that person want to be loved the same way you want be loved?”
In that huge church, not a sound could be heard except Billy-Bob’s soft footsteps as he moved away from the pulpit. Danny looked at Davy. Davy picked up a piece of paper and fanned himself. Danny nodded agreement with Davy.

The Weekend Comes

Come Sunday morning, there were over four hundred people assembled in the Methodist church. Danny had heard that Davy had been spreading the word about the service and encouraging people to bring their friends. As Danny and Billy-Bob were preparing for the service, someone came into the small room behind the altar. It was Davy.
“You ready?” inquired Davy with a broad smile.
“What are you doing here?” asked Danny with an equally broad smile.
“Seems Dominick and Gorge wanted to do Camp Eden this morning. So I found myself looking for a place to go.”
“Hmm, sounds mighty convenient to me,” smiled Danny.
“It does, doesn’t it?”
“You going to join us up front?”
“Not a chance. I’ll be in the pews with the rest of the people listening to you two.” Davy patted Billy-Bob on the shoulder and shook his hand.
Davy looked up at the clock. “Show time, guys. Give me a minute to get to my seat.”
Through the wall, Danny and Billy-Bob heard the organist begin. Danny looked at Billy-Bob. “You okay?”
“Both you and Pastor Davy will hear me today. I’ll be nervous.”
“You’ll be nervous? What about me? You’re the expert at the sermon, not me.”
Billy-Bob grinned at Danny. “We’ll both be fine.”
As the two headed through the door out onto the altar Danny thought to himself that Billy-Bob was right, they would be fine.
In a few minutes, Billy-Bob and Danny were seated by the altar and the organ fell silent. Danny stood. “Please stand and join me in the Lord’s Prayer.”
As the people were praying, Danny thought back to that morning so many months before when he and Davy did their first, what people were calling, “new” style service. He thought about two ministers trying something new and different, not just for the people, but for the ministers also. He looked at Davy seated in the second pew. Tears flowed down his cheeks. Danny knew that Davy was thinking of the same exact time. Davy looked up at Danny. The two smiled.
Danny announced the hymn and when it was finished, he walked to the center of the altar. “There was a time when Jesus’ travels required he pass through Samaria. Being weary, he sat at a well and when a Samarian woman came to the well to draw water. Jesus told the woman ‘Give me to drink’. The woman was shocked because Jesus was a Jew and as the woman said, ‘Jews have no dealings with the Samarians’. At that, Jesus replied that had the woman asked of God to drink the living waters, God would have given her to drink.
“The woman was confused by Jesus’s statement and noticed Jesus had nothing in which to draw water for his drink. When she mentioned this to Jesus he told her that if one drinks from the well, in time they would again be thirsty, but if one drinks from the well of God, they would never again thirst. When the woman confided in him that she believed the Messiah would someday come and reveal all, Jesus told her that he was the Messiah. After which she went into town and invited all to come meet the man and pray, which they did. When the disciples returned, they were shocked to see Jesus associating with Samarians, because the Jews learned from birth to despise the Samarians.”
Danny looked around the church and asked, “Are there any questions or thoughts?”
Over the past several months this time in the service had become extremely popular. Seldom was the time for questions shorter than a half-hour and often it went well beyond an hour. Today was no exception.  About two months before, three new questions began to be asked. The first was did the verse appear in all the four gospels. The second was since none of the ones who had written the gospels were present, how did they know? And the last question was ‘was there any proof that it actually happened’?
When the questions first appeared, Danny and Davy gave them little notice and answered them truthfully. The second time, they became concerned. But as the same questions were asked each week, surprisingly by different people, Danny and Davy decided to accept them and answer them as honestly as possible. Again, today was no exception. A young Hispanic man stood and asked if the story appeared in all four gospels. Danny answered, “No, this story only appears in the Gospel of John.”
Almost on cue, a blonde lady toward the back asked, “If no one was there except Jesus and the woman, how did John know what happened?”
Danny smiled and said, “I don’t know.”
Then, again seemingly on cue, an older gentleman on the front row asked, “Was there any proof that it actually happened?”
Once more Danny smiled and answered simply, “No”.
Then, an older woman seated near the center of the church stood and asked, “If there is no proof that something actually happened, why should we believe it?”
Just as Danny was about to field the question, he noticed Billy-Bob motion toward him and stand. “May I answer this, Father West?” he asked.
Danny nodded.
“The word that is proven here is faith. We talk about faith all the time, but what does it actually mean? The dictionary gives several definitions, but one definition is a belief in something for which there is no proof. At this point, we have to ask ourselves if we have faith. Do you have faith, Ma’am?”
The lady smiled and returned to her seat.

El Tap, El Tap, To El Tap We Will Go!

Davy smiled. “Danny, you’re right. What we did should have been done centuries ago. It should have been started as soon as the first copy of the Bible was glued together, but it wasn’t. Then again, shouldn’t somebody have sailed west a long time before Columbus did? It wasn’t a big thing. All he did was sail west. Not a big thing, but it changed the world. Shouldn’t somebody have developed the printing press long before Gutenberg? All he did was made little blocks of wood with the letters higher than the background. Not a big thing, but it changed the world. Danny, there’s so many things we could say weren’t a big thing that changed the world. And, we can wonder why they didn’t happen before they did. What we can’t do is change when it happened.”

“Yea, you’re right, but why you and me?”

“I don’t know, Danny, but I believe Rhett Butler said it best when he told Charlotte, ‘Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn’. And, Danny, I don’t give a damn. We did it and if it brought a few people closer to God, I’m glad we did. We grew up ringing bells and helping pass out communion wafers. We went to school and learned our religions, but you know, for the life of me, I can’t remember any of that changing anybody’s life. The only change happened when we did what we wanted to do.”

“You mean when we wanted to sail west?”

“Yes, exactly, when you and I decided to sail west.”

Neither one of them said anything for a long while. Then, Davy walked toward the side of the road and sat down on the ditch bank. He pulled a piece of wheat, stuck the stem in his mouth and looked up at the stars. “There is a God, Danny. All this didn’t just happen by itself.”

“I agree, Bro, I agree,” said Danny as he sat down beside Davy.

“I don’t know if we can talk to him, maybe all that praying stuff is just silly. Look out there, there are millions of worlds with million and millions of I guess you would call them people, people sort of like us. You think all of them are praying?”

“I don’t know, but for me, a prayer isn’t so much what it is for a lot of people. A drowning man prays for help. Sometimes there’s help, sometimes there’s not. No, when I pray, I’m just giving thanks to the one who made it all happen, the one who created it all. For some people, every prayer is asking for something. They ask for everything from an extra few dollars to world peace. To me, I just can’t think of God as Santa Claus. I think he deserves more. If he hears my prayer and hears my little token, good. If he doesn’t, I know I did it and it makes me feel good.”

Davy nodded, looked into the sky one more time then stood. “Come on, it’s getting late.” He stretched out his hand and pulled Danny to his feet.

“So, are you going to work with Billy-Bob this week?” asked Davy.

“I believe it would be a good idea. He’s wanting to do a thing on the woman at the well. I guess I’ll take the Bible reading and Billy-Bob will do the sermon.”

“Either way. It will be up to him. I’m telling you, the kid is good at either part. So are Dominick and Gorge. We may have created a monster,” said Danny as he mimicked a Bella Lugosi voice.

That night, Billy-Bob came to Danny’s cabin. The two moved outside to the same white oak rocking chairs that Danny and Davy had occupied for so many hours. 

“So, you want to do something on the woman at the well?” began Danny.

“If that’s okay with you?”

“That will be great. You want to do the scripture or the sermon?”

“That’s up to you too.”

Danny smiled. Are you that good? You feel confident to do either?”

“Yes.”

“Your sermons are second to none.”

“As you wish, I’ll do the sermon. I’m looking forward to the opportunity.”

“Billy-Bob, it’s not that big an honor.”

The man looked Danny straight in the eye. “It is to me.”

“Do you want to rehearse?”

“Do you and Pastor Davy rehearse?”

“We never have.”

“Then we won’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“If you need me, call me,” said Danny, “But other than that, I’ll see you Sunday morning at the Methodist church.”

Billy-Bob stood and grasped Danny’s hand. The lad’s grasp was firm. Danny didn’t have a doubt in his mind that Sunday morning would go well.

Danny Tells

“I’m no longer the priest at Saint Egbert’s.”
“Oh?”
“When did this happen?”
“Monday.”
“You quit, or the Bishop fire you?”
“I guess he fired me. He felt some sort of a compulsion that the priest at Saint Egbert’s should be an Episcopalian.”
“What do you mean? You are an Episcopalian.”
“Nope, I quit being an Episcopalian last Sunday.”
“Really? What happened last Sunday?”
“I heard a sermon.”
“A sermon? What kind of a sermon?” asked Davy obviously shocked.
“A good sermon, a good Baptist sermon. Preacher man was talking about Jesus as a child in the temple.”
“Do tell,” smiled Davy. He had delivered the sermon Danny was referring to the previous Sunday at Camp Eden.
“Yes. The preacher man was talking about this twelve year old kid carrying on a conversation with the Rabbis. This kid who seemed to know things and we don’t even know if he could read or write, yet he was sharing with the most learned men in the temple and they with him.”
“Okay.”
“And, for some reason I began thinking.”
“Thinking?”
“Yes, the kid was talking about worshiping God, but today people don’t worship God, they worship denominations.”
“Okay, you’ve lost me.”
“Way back when, when you and I were Catholic, what did we worship?”
“I assume God.”
“No, think about it. Who did we pray to? We prayed to the saints. Everything was saints. And, what are saints? They’re people that the Catholic church say are special. Saints are the property of the Catholic church. They are denominational. And, we prayed to Mary. How many Protestants do you know who pray to Mary? Again, denominational.”
“The Pentecostals see a few things in the Bible about tongues and suddenly, they speak in unknown tongues. You ever hear of anyone else speaking in unknown tongues? Yet, for those Pentecostals, holy is measured by tongues. If you can speak in tongues, you’re holy. If you can’t, you’re not. Again, denominational.”
 “And I hate to say it, but you Baptists, your being saved stuff. I know some of you believe it stronger than others. Some Baptists never mention the word ‘saved’. Some can’t complete a thought without saying the word, but where did that come from?”
“You’re right,” said Davy. “Mostly Paul.”
“Right, Paul, a man who never even met Jesus. I know all about the Damascus road thing, but still. Paul never met Jesus. Yet, he created a whole way of thinking. You mention being saved to most people and they look at you like you’ve lost your mind.”
Davy smiled, but said nothing.
“Like I say, we worship denominations, not the one who made it all. Denominations are man-made cubby holes. To say that one denomination loves God or knows God better than another is absurd. Good is good. Love is love. It doesn’t matter if a person is a pope or a Ubangi warrior. Damn Catholics pull Saint Peter from the bible and make a pope. Pentecostals pull speaking in tongues from the bible and and think to be a good Pentecostal you got to speak in tongues. Some of you Baptists pull that being saved crap from the Bible and suddenly everybody has got to be saved or they’re on an express train to hell. All of that is denominational stuff. Have you ever heard of a good, saved Catholic who speaks in tongues?”
Davy was quiet for a moment then asked, “How did you quit being an Episcopalian?”
“I don’t know the proper way, but I believe, in my heart, I quit being an Episcopalian a long time ago. There is just something clean and pure about being whatever it is we are now. In reality, I believe I quit when I told the bishop of my decision.”
Davy paused for a moment then said, “What are we now? You said, whatever it is we are now. What are we now?”
Danny looked at Davy but did not answer. He had no answer.
Later that night, Davy saw Danny walk past his cabin. He knew Danny had been deep in thought lately and often took late night walks. Tonight, he decided to invite himself along. He ran out his front door and soon caught up with Danny. “Mind if I come along?” he asked.
“No, I would probably enjoy the company.”
It wasn’t long before they had left Camp Eden and were walking along a dirt road surrounded by wheat fields. The sky was bright with millions of stars, stars beyond the possibility of being counted. “What have we done, Davy?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s Friday night, two days from now, a little chapel in the middle of a labor camp will fill beyond capacity with people. There will be people standing outside barely able to hear what is being said, but still, they want to be there. Uptown, Billy-Bob and Bubba will have a church that will soon be packed every Sunday. In a few weeks, Dominick and Gorge will have the same. What I’m asking you, Davy, is what have we done? There are hundreds of people flocking to churches we have created. Soon, there will be thousands. What have we done? Did it all start when I threatened some snot nose kid thirty years ago? Back then we wanted two things, we wanted to help people and we wanted to be priests. That’s all we wanted, Davy.”
“What have we done? I can’t answer that. Maybe we tried something that should have been tried a long time ago. When you stood up and gave that beautiful, that very beautiful, talk on the Last Supper so many months ago, things changed.”
“Let’s not forget, you gave that Baptist as hell sermon. It was beautiful.”

Morning

Chapter 9 -

“Okay, I can tell. You have something on your mind.”
“Yes, have you talked to Billy-Bob and Bubba?”
Davy smiled. He always did when the two names were mentioned.  Billy-Bob and Bubba were people that Davy and Danny picked to learn their “new” way of doing Sunday services. The “Billy-Bob and Bubba” names came about as a joke. The names were the absolute opposite of the individuals. Billy-Bob’s real name was Brian Cox and Cox was an excellent speaker and could belt out a sermon that even Davy envied. In many ways, Cox reminded people of a young Billy Graham with his chiseled face and the distinct mountain “twang” in his voice. And yes, he was Baptist. Bubba was a retired Lutheran bishop whose name was really Adam Fisk. Fisk’s career as a priest had been in places like Manhattan and Boston, a far cry from what the name ‘Bubba’ would imply. He was tall, slim and very proper. From the beginning, Brian and Adam were perfect together. Despite some age difference, Brian was thirty-eight and Adam was sixty-three, the two enjoyed each other’s company and were brilliant churchmen. They worked with Davy and Danny for several months before a Methodist church in mid-town came available and the remaining half-dozen or so members contacted Davy and Danny offering them the use of the church rather than to see the impressive edifice go to waste. Billy-Bob and Bubba had done several services at Camp Eden and when it was announced they would be at the Methodist church the following week, they were greeted by over fifty people who had been attending at Camp Eden. By the end of their second month, they had well over two hundred people in attendance.  
“No, I let the numbers speak for themselves. Billy-Bob–“
”We’re going to have to quit calling them that. Billy-Bob and Bubba is certainly no compliment.”
“No, but they love it. They even call themselves Billy-Bob and Bubba. I’m not kidding you, Danny.”
“Okay, you were starting to say?”
“Billy-Bob suggested that you and Bubba switch for a couple of Sundays. You know they look at us as their mentors.”
“In a way, I guess we are. I think it’s a great idea. It’s been a while since they were at Camp Eden, the people here might enjoy it.”
Davy became quiet and settled back in his chair. When he spoke, he said, “You know we haven’t taken on any outside projects since the Buddhist Temple.”
“No, but I have to admit, bringing the others into Camp Eden has been exciting. I’m still fascinated by how slowing down–“
”Danny, I think it’s more than just slowing down, much more.”
“What do you mean? That’s all we’ve done.”
“No, no, you’re wrong. Let me ask you a question. How interesting were your Bible classes in seminary?”
“To be honest, Davy, to me, they were about as interesting as watching concrete decompose.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said, why?”
“Because all we did was somebody read the verse, then we would discuss it. It was just boring.”
“Okay, I will agree. I will absolutely agree. Then, what did we do when we got out and into churchs of our own?”
Danny looked at Davy and for a while said nothing. Then he broke into a smile. “Somebody read the verse, then, in our sermon, we discussed it.”
“Yes, and just like in seminary, the verse was read at ninety miles an hour with no feeling, no emotion. It was just one word after another. And, the sermon wasn’t much more. Then, we changed it. How did we change it?”
“We quit reading words and began telling a story, complete with inflection and emotion.”
“Right, we did slow down, but only because there were no points awarded for speed. We totally abandoned something that had been a mainstay of white churches for a hundred years, getting out by noon.”
“You’re right, black churches are there for the afternoon. Sunday is an event, an event the people look forward to.”
“And now, if somebody comes to Camp Eden or to Billy-Bob and Bubba’s church, they don’t expect to be out in an hour, but they do expect to gain from the day, no matter how long they’re there.”
“I don’t think that’s bad, Danny. As a matter of fact, I believe it’s quite good. Also, let’s not forget Dominick. He and that other guy he’s teamed up with, Gorge, are good. It won’t be long before they’re ready for a church of their own. But, they haven’t been ordained yet.”
Davy stared directly at Danny. “Who was the first pope?”
“You know who the first pope was, it was Saint Peter. Upon this rock I shall build my church, you know that. That was a silly question.”
Davy looked straight at Danny. “Who actually set the framework for the Christian faith?”
“What is this, twenty questions? It was Paul, you know that too.”
“Would you say Peter and Paul were two great men in Christianity?”
“I would say so.”
“And the apostles, were they important?”
“Davy. What are you getting at?”
Davy reached for his bible beside his chair and without looking, he lobbed the book over his head and into Danny’s lap. “Show me in there where a single one of them was ordained.”
Danny picked up the bible and placed it on a small table beside his chair. He didn’t have to look. Davy was right. None of them had been ordained. He also knew it was time to tell Davy something he had hesitated to say for several days.

Monday Monday

“Come in. Father Danny, let me introduce you to Pastor Hamm from Texas.”
“Dallas,” said the man as he stood and shook Danny’s hand.
“Pastor Hamm has visited the church a couple of times and wants to speak with us.”
“Yes,” said Danny, “I thought you looked familiar. We don’t have that many visitors who wear purple suits with yellow piping. I thought I recognized you.”
“Yes sir, Padre. As I was saying to Preacher Tate, I am really impressed with the work you’re doing, bringing people to the Lord, yes, it is wonderful.”
“Thank you,” said Danny, “now what can we do for you?”
“No, Padre, it’s not what you can do for me, it’s what I can do for you.”
What a sleezebag, thought Danny all the while keeping his smile.
“Okay then, Mr. Hamm, what can you do for us?”
“It’s Reverend Hamm, sir, Reverend Hamm.”
“Okay, Reverend Hamm, what can you do for us?”
“Well, Reverend West,–“
”No, Father West,” said Danny, “Father West.”
“Right, Father West, I’m sure you’re familiar with my ministry on television, we’re on all the Christian channels.”
“No, Mr. Hamm,–“
”Reverend Hamm, sir, Reverend Hamm.”
“Yes, whatever, Reverend Hamm, I can’t say I watch the Christian channels.”
“You don’t?” questioned Hamm not believing what he was hearing.
“Then I’m sure you have seen us on the television, Preacher Tate.”
“No, Reverend Hamm, I can’t say that I have. We just don’t watch those Christian channels, Reverend. Father Danny, what is it you always say about the Christian channels?”
“Do you mean when I say there’s nothing but low life money sucking scavengers on those channels?” said Danny still maintaining a broad grin.
“Yes, I believe that is what you say, Father West.”
“Wait just a damn minute,” shouted Hamm. “I didn’t come here to be insulted.”
“Then, why did you come here, Mr. Hamm?” asked Davy.
“It’s Rev–“
”Why did you come here, Mister Hamm?” asked Davy emphasizing the “Mister”.
“I came here to offer you two an opportunity.”
“And what kind of opportunity would that be, Mister Hamm,” said Davy once more emphasizing the “Mister”.
“You people have found a new gimmick. It is worth millions. I want you to–”
“Have we found a new gimmick, Father West?” asked Davy.
“A new gimmick? What kind of a gimmick? Now, I did buy one of those new-fangled can openers, is that what you’re talking about? It’s electric. You want to see it? I can go get it.”
“I don’t believe that’s what Mr. Hamm is talking about. That’s not what you’re talking about is it Mr. Hamm?”
Hamm was silent for a moment and was obviously becoming angry. “Look you two clowns, I’m not playing, we all know why we’re in this racket. It sure as hell beats working a nine to five job, and what I’m talking about can make us millions.”
“Mr. Hamm,” said Danny, “I know you think all that Christian stuff you’ve been putting out to your followers is just fodder for fools, but does even the possibility, and I mean even the remote possibility, that maybe Hell does exist ever enter your mind? And, does the fact that you may just be buying your ticket there ever bother you?”
“Are you two absolute fools?” shouted Hamm. “I’m talking millions of dollars.”
“Father West, what would we do with millions of dollars?”
“Preacher Tate, I can’t really say. What have I got to do to get that much money?”
“I believe you got to do like Mister Hamm here. You’ve got to sell your soul to the Devil.”
Danny and Davy both stood and stared directly at Hamm. Neither said a word, but Hamm got the message and left. He left cursing and slamming the door, but he left.
Davy looked at Danny. “Are we missing the boat, Danny? That man makes millions. Do you feel like we’re wrong?”
“No, I don’t feel like we’re wrong, but I do feel sad.”
“Sad?”
“Yes, sad. All we have really done is slowed down basically the same service preachers, priests, and every minister has done for centuries. That’s all we’ve done, Davy. The explanations we give, the sermons we preach, they’re not new. There’s nothing new about them. It all comes from the Bible and that’s been around in some form or another for well over a thousand years. I know a lot of the new Bibles they’re putting out now have been dumbed down, but what’s in it is sort of the same. Davy, we haven’t done a thing new, we’ve just slowed down. Now, people want to do interviews and ask us about our ‘new’ way. That huckster who just walked out the door thinks we have found some new, miraculous, something or other.”
“Have you ever watched one of the Christian channels?” asked Davy as he stood and moved toward the television.
“Of course I have. They’re a joke. I will give the preachers one credit, the shows, and that’s what they are, shows, are as well coordinated as any rock concert. The lights come up at just the right time, the choir chimes in exactly on cue, the music accents every word the preacher says. Somebody who knows what they’re doing puts the shows together. Every minute is coordinated.”
Davy punched the remote control several times. “Speak of the Devil,” he said. “Reverend Hamm is on the television.”
“Good lord,” said Danny. “He’s wearing the same purple suit. Where do these people get their clothes?”
“Forget about the clothes. Forget about the music. Watch the people.”
For the next thirty minutes the two of them sat in front of the television watching the man who had been with them just a few minutes before. When the show was over, Davy turned off the television. “What do you think?” he asked.
“Like I said, it’s a joke. I really feel sorry for anyone who can’t see past the smoke and mirrors. Those people, they were sad, holding their hands up like some sort of homesick orangutans groping for a tree limb. And all that falling down crap, Davy, it just doesn’t happen, at least not in real life.”
“No, you say I’m a great preacher, but even during my best sermon, I never saw anyone fall backwards onto the floor.”
“Yea, that’s just simple suggestion. Think about it. I see someone fall back, he must have been touched by the holy spirit. If I don’t fall back, all these people are going to think I haven’t been touched, so therefore, I will fall back.”
“That’s all it is, but those poor people think Hamm is speaking for God.”
“Like I said, it’s sad. Ridiculous, but sad. Do me a favor.”
“What is that?”
“Let’s forget about Hamm. The man is disgusting. I wish we had a video of the way he acted with us. If we could show it I don’t think his generous partners would be quite as generous.”

The Four Of Us

Nope, nothing on Davy and Danny today, well, not exactly.  I have started my next book that I mentioned Thursday. The opportunities here abound. This is the intro and I believe you will like it. Davy and Danny will return Monday.


THE FOUR OF US
by
Dan Weatherington

Chapter 1 -

Most of the patrons coming into El Rancho Mexican Restaurant at lunchtime Thursday never notice the four old men sitting at the center table at the front. Young people don’t seem to see anyone over fifty and anyone over sixty becomes completely invisible.
“Okay, the food is here. If you three will go ahead and say your prayer to your make-believe friend in heaven we can eat?” said Paul as he dipped a corn chip into the salsa.” As Danny made the sign of the cross in a small arc across his face, Paul shot his eyes upward and shook his head.
“Look, you Atheist bastard,” said Danny. “I would appreciate it if you would keep your comments to yourself.”
“Deist, not Atheist, Deist. You know like the founding fathers. You ever hear of Thomas Jefferson or Benjamin Franklin. . .  No, you wouldn’t have. They’re not in the bible. I'm sorry, I forgot.”
“You two cool it and eat your lunch,” said Martin.
“Excuse me, Mom,” said Danny.
“Marty’s right,” interjected Davy. “You two cool it and please. . . inside voices. We are around decent people.”
And another lunch begins for four old men who most people would never notice, except that in the past year, these four old men, an Episcopal priest, a Baptist minister, a college professor and a writer have been responsible for the incarceration of over a hundred and twenty drug dealers, pimps, extortionists and black mailers. Most people would never notice and that’s the way the four want it to be.

A Weekend Coming

Later that evening, the two Robin Hood Preachers were sitting on Davy’s porch. Both had been unusually silent until Davy asked, “What do you think?”
“About what?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“Yes, unfortunately I do. Do we go back to taking the newfound Baptist Episcopal faith to new highs or do we look for ways to help people?”
“It’s not a faith, it’s a . . .  I don’t know what it is.”
“You know what I’m saying.”
“Yes, yes I do.”
“Which is it?” asked Davy solemnly.
“That last little adventure did go well. It went quickly, but it went well.”
“Yes, but we’ve been lucky. We were lucky with those other gang bangers. You know as well as I do that our luck isn’t going to last forever.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Maybe not, but it does appear we take to danger well.”
“Yes, Father Daniel, it does appear that way.”
“And, there are other dangers in the world.”
“Yes, Good Pastor, there are.”
“But, do you believe our backgrounds are well suited for, say, corporate espionage?”
“Oh, I would venture to say not.”
“Then, let me see,” said Danny, “what are the other sources of crime in this country?”
“Hmmm,” thought Davy, “There is computer fraud.”
“Yes, that is very true,” said Danny, “Now, what do we know about computers?”
“Hmmm,” commented Davy again, “Very little.”
“Would the word ‘nothing’ be more accurate?”
“Yes, that would ring a bit closer to true.”
Davy looked straight at Danny. “After some thought, I believe we would better serve assisting with the new found Baptist Episcopal. . .” Then, Davy stopped. “Did we ever decide, is it a faith, a denomination, what is it?”
“That too, my good friend, may bear more thought, but until we get a Rabbi involved and it becomes the Baptist Episcopal Temple, I believe faith is off the burner.”
“Of course that doesn’t rule out us finding a good Jewish rabbi.”
“Oh no, of course how he will give a good Baptist sermon in Hebrew may be a challenge, but it may bear some thought.”
“We are then agreed, for now, Saint Davy’s and Saint Danny’s.”
“We, sir,  are agreed.”
The short break at the Buddhist temple invigorated the two of them. A few hours of danger increased their sensitivity. They were ready to embrace Camp Eden with a new vigor.
Through the rest of the fall and into the winter, the two pastors continued their work at Camp Eden. Though they weren’t trying to secure new members, each week the congregation increased. Over the months they enlisted four young people who found a fascination with the work being done at the church. Two of them took positions at another church and were enjoying the same results that Danny and Davy experienced.
Each week new people came to the church and a surprising number continued to return. In the late fall, Danny’s phone rang. It was Davy.
“Can you come over, there’s a man here who wants to speak to us?”
Over the time the two had been at Camp Eden and because of the success the church was experiencing, the two had devised a ‘code’. When Davy said there was a “man” here who wants to speak to them, it told Danny that it was some bum who needed to be shown the door. Had he said “Gentleman”, it would have told Danny the caller may be worth his time. But, this time Davy had said “man”.

Thursday El Tap Day

By mid afternoon not one person had approached the front window of the drug house and Davy watched the curtain in the second floor window move frequently. They were being watched.
It does get darker and a bit quieter, dark enough and quiet enough that two people sitting in a car alone can fall asleep which is exactly what happened to Davy and Danny.
Davy heard a tapping on the car window and opened his eyes slightly. “Danny, Danny, I think you better wake up.”
“What?”
“We got company.”
Danny stretched slightly and opened his eyes. He was greeted by the sight of eight men surrounding the car and staring inside.
“Davy,” said Danny, “I know this isn’t the ideal time to think of this, but you remember this morning when you told that man that you had a gun pointed at his crotch?”
“Yes.”
"It was a bluff. You don't have a gun."
"Right."
“It just occurred to me that they do have guns and a bullet can go through a car door one way just as easily as it can the other.”
“Maybe so,” Davy said as he flipped the car key. In one move, the car started and Davy floored the accelerator. “Maybe so, but I’m not hanging around to find out.”
Two men standing in front of the car were knocked aside and spun to the ground and the other six jumped back amazed.
Davy drove down the block then slammed on the brakes in the middle of the street turning the car around.
“Davy,” asked Danny, “what are you doing?”
By the time they got back, the men were gathering together and one man was still laying in the street. Davy drove slowly by and put down the window. “Night boys, see you in the morning,” he shouted.
“Was that wise?” asked Danny.
“Maybe not, but it was fun,” said Davy with a wide smile on his face.”
True to his word, the next day Davy and Danny pulled up in front of the drug den. At the exact same moment they arrived, the drug business ended for the day.
Soon after Davy and Danny were settled in for a day of sitting, the man who had threatened Davy the day before came out and walked to the side of the car. He motioned for Davy to roll down his window, which he did, but only a couple of inches.
“I know you’re not cops.”
“Your customers don’t seem to think so.”
“What do you want? You one of them ‘just say no to drugs’ weirdos?”
“No, your business is your business, but my business is Mr. Kim two blocks away, him and the Buddhist temple.”
“What the fuck are you talkin’ about? Who the fuck is Mr. Kim?”
“The store beside the Buddhist temple.”
“Yea, what about it?”
“A little matter of protection money.”
The man looked up and motioned to someone in the second story window. In a second another man came outside. The two talked in Chinese.
“What about this Kim?”
“You stop the protection scam on Kim, we leave.”
“Man, you crazy. I lost more money in the first ten minutes you here than Kim pay in a month. You break one of my men arm and all you want is leave this Kim alone?”
“Yep, that’s the deal. You leave Kim alone, we leave.”
“Not come back?”
“That’s the deal.”
The man broke out in a smile. “You crazy. You trying to sell me protection.”
“That’s the way it reads, Buster. Have we got a deal?”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
“I asked you, have we got a deal?”
“You not commin’ back?”
“Not as long as your people stay away from Kim. You come back, we come back.”
The man looked down and said slowly in a low voice, “We got deal.”
Once more Davy floored the accelerator.
“I’m not believing you pulled that off,” said Danny. “I’m just not believing it.”

Wednesday

It was mid afternoon and Canal, like all the streets, were crowded. They rode through Chinatown and really didn’t notice anything. They turned and went back. At a stoplight, they noticed a man crossing the street quickly but with an unusual gate. “Pull over,” said Danny.
For a few minutes no one said anything until Davy pointed to the other side of the street. “Watch that second building.”
Danny watched, and while he watched, several people went to the front of the building and leaned against a window. Each person placed their hand on a ledge, left it there for a moment, then left.
“It’s a drug house,” said Danny. “Watch them. They drop something on that ledge and then pick something up. They’re buying drugs. It’s a beautiful setup. No way whoever’s inside can be seen. Come on, let’s take a walk.”
The two got out of the car and walked up the street. As they passed the building, they slowed to watch a man step up to what looked like a partially open window and drop something in. In a second, he reached back at the same spot, retrieved something and quickly left. “That’s exactly what it is,” said Danny. “It’s a drug drop and it’s on Canal. This is what the detective was talking about. And I guarantee you this isn’t their only drop.”
“Maybe so, but one is all we need.”
“We need a drop?”
“Okay, we’ve seen they’re doing a land office drug business, but what’s that got to do with Mr. Kim. His problem isn’t drugs, it’s extortion.”
“Right,” answered Davy, “but the drugs are the Sing Wa’s bread and butter.”
“Yea, I can see that, but I wonder why the cops aren’t doing anything. It’s sure not hard to see what’s going on.”
“Because the cops are at a disadvantage. You’re right, the drugs aren’t a problem for Mr. Kim and the people at the temple. That gives us two advantages. Have you read a good book lately?”
“Book? What are you talking about?”
“This car of yours is about as plain-jane as it gets. It will be perfect.”
“You’re not going to tell me why it’s perfect are you?”
“Nope.”

The next morning Danny met Davy. “Your car is perfect because it looks like a cheap police car. And today all we’re going to do is sit.”
“Sit?” questioned Danny.
“Yes, we’re going to sit. We’re going to sit outside the drug den and look like cops. We’re not collecting any information. We won’t be trying to arrest anyone or even collect any evidence on anyone. All we’re going to do is sit.”
As soon as Davy pulled in front of the drug house, the plan became obvious. A man walking toward near the front window saw the car and quickly moved away. For the next hour, Davy and Davy watched as people approached the building, saw the car, turned and walked away.
“You know you are brilliant, don’t you?”
“I must be,” smiled Davy.”
“This place hasn’t sold drug one since we got here.”
“That’s the plan. I believe our friends in the Sing Wa will be in touch with us very soon.” Davy saw a curtain move in an upstairs window. “Yes, very soon.”
In a few minutes, a neatly dressed Chinese man walked out front and to the driver’s side of the car. He tapped on Davy’s window.
“Do you know what you are doing?”
“Yes, sitting here.”
“You are police, I assume,” he said.
Davy said nothing.
“Do you know who we are?” the man asked.
“No, not really,” replied Davy. “Should I?”
“Yes, I think you should. I believe you need to ask around and maybe someone will tell you.”
“Okay, if it’ll make you happy, I’ll be sure to do that.”
“So, are you about ready to move on?”
“No, not really.”
“I think you are.”
“May I ask why?” inquired Davy.
“First thing you're not cops. If you were, you'd have already announced it. And, you're ready to leave because you’re not welcome here and the gun in my pocket says you're ready to leave.”
“I can’t say I’m too worried about whether we’re welcome or not, but it’s a nice day and the gun I have behind this car door that’s pointed at your crotch says we’re in no hurry.”
The man began nodding his head and exhaled. “How long do you plan to stay?”
“Don’t know for sure, a day, maybe two. Maybe a week. Like I say, I’m not sure.”
“Okay then, suit yourself, but you can’t stay here twenty-four seven. You got to eat. You got to go to the bathroom. You can’t just stay here.”
“Oh no, you’re right. We’ll come and go. Like you say we do have to go to the bathroom, but there’s quite a few restaurants around here. We’ll be okay and we’ll be here most of the time. And fella, thanks for the concern.”
The man nodded and walked away.
“I figure in the next hour or so this thing will start to work like clockwork.”

Tuesday

Kim turned his head toward Danny and said nothing. For a moment he looked into Danny’s eyes. He slid the door on the glass case closed and yelled something in Chinese. From the back, a man answered in the same language. “Please follow me, “ said Kim.
He led Danny and Davy out of the front door of his store and to the next door which was an intricately carved and gilded portal. They entered. The inside was a beautiful room filled with Chinese art. On the front wall was a magnificent Buddha surrounded by small offerings. Seated in front of the statue was an old man and two women obviously in prayer. The room was as solemn as any of the cathedrals Danny and Davy had seen. Kim motioned the two to sit in one of the seats at the back of the room. While they took their seats, Kim lit an incense stick and stood it in a small vase on the wall.
“I have no idea how you know these things. I also have no idea why you would be concerned. We are not your people. I would guess this is first time either of you have been in a Buddhist temple.”
Danny and Davy nodded. Then Danny said, “Must one be Buddhist to realize the beauty it has to offer?”
For a full minute, Kim said nothing. Then, he looked at the two visitors and asked, “Why do you concern yourselves with our problems?”
“If I asked, would you not concern yourself with problems we might have?”
“You preacher man, you know that is our way.”
“Mr. Kim, can it not be our way also?”
Kin looked Davy in the eye then squeezed his hand. “Come, I will show you.”
“Kim led the two to a place on the north wall of the temple. He pointed to a charred area and said, “up until last week a small statue of the Buddha sat in a cove right here. We came in one morning and this is what we saw. The Buddha was over a thousand years old. What kind of monster would do such a thing?”
Danny looked at Davy. Neither tried to answer.
“Can you tell us anything about these people?”
“What? They come in, demand money and when I say no, they destroy things. I give them money, they want more. When I say have no more, they do this. Nothing else to tell.” Kim reached in his pocket and pulled out a business card. “Ask him. I do what is right. I tell police. Police do nothing. Ask him.”
Danny and Davy both shook the man’s hand and left.
“We didn’t say we were going to do anything,” said Davy as they walked to the car.
“Let’s see what this Detective says, because Kim really didn’t tell us anything.”
Danny called the Detective and they agreed to meet at the precinct house.
The two Pastors introduced themselves.
The detective did little more than grunt to acknowledge the two. “Reverend West filled me in on your concerns and I am aware of the problem. Now, what can I do for you?”
“I guess my question, Detective, is what can we do to help?”
The man looked surprised. “You want to help?”
“We would like to.”
“You ever hear of the Sing Wa?”
“No sir,” answered Danny.
“The Sing Wa is probably responsible for a couple of dozen deaths a year right here in town. And you know how many convictions we’ve got? How many convictions we’ve ever got?”
Both Danny and Davy shook their heads.
“Not a damn one.”
“You people probably have some notion that these Chinese punks are just another street gang. Something like the Sharks and the Jets. Let me tell you, these ain’t the Sharks and they ain’t the Jets and this ain’t West Side Story. The Sing Wa are smart. They don’t get caught and they don’t leave witnesses. My advice to you is to head home and do prayafying or whatever it is preachers do.”
Wrong thing to say to Davy, thought Danny.
“Thank you, Detective, and I appreciate your advice. Just a couple of questions and we have to go. I have baptisms going on and I wouldn’t want the people to drown. Where would we find these, what did you call them, Sing Wa?”
“They’re smart, but they’re like the rest of the street punks. Just follow the drug trail.”
Davy had looked the man in the eye since he made the ‘preacher’ comment. He continued to stare. “And just where would that trail be?”
“Just go down Canal, there’s a house. You’ll know it.”
“Thank you, Detective, for your hospitality. I ‘spect we best jus’ mosey on along.” Bastard, thought Davy.
As they walked out of the station, Davy looked at Danny. “Well, that was a royal waste of time. I can see why Mr. Kim feels so confident about the police. They’re not going to do squat.”
“I assume we are.”
“Oh yes, we are,” smiled Davy. “We’ll drive down Canal. That detective said we would know the Sing Wa when we saw them. I have absolutely no idea what he meant, but let’s just ride.”

It's Going to be a Good Week... I Can Tell.

“Yes I am a genius, and it will give us a bit of time to get into trouble and maybe help some people. Tell me more about those people who need us. I believe you said they’re Buddhist?”
“Yes, as you know, Buddhists are more into peace and tranquility than they are into hellfire and brimstone. Buddhist monks are seldom a problem. The problem here is the temple itself.”
Danny could tell from Davy’s new upbeat voice that the thought of helping someone in trouble was bringing him back to life. He knew the things Davy had said to him earlier hadn’t come easily. Danny also knew he was having some questions of his own.
“How could a Buddhist temple be a problem?” asked Danny.
“For the past hundred years the temple has been owned by one family, the Kims. Actually, the temple itself is just one large room in a building on Canal Street. The building also houses a store and a couple of apartments.”
“Sounds like a nice arrangement,” said Danny.
“It was, like I said for a hundred years. When Great-Grandfather Kim bought the building, he used the store and urged the people to take whatever action was needed to have the room consecrated as a temple. He then gave the room, or the use of it rather, to the people. Everyone was happy, the Kims, the people using the temple, and the ones renting the apartments.”
“Let me guess,” commented Danny, “here comes the ‘but’.”
“Right, here comes the ‘but’. About a year ago, a street gang muscled in on the present Mr. Kim, Wong Kim, demanding protection. You know the rest.”
“I believe I do,” said Danny. “And I’ll bet now they’re demanding protection from the temple.”
“Right on the nose, Good Reverend.”
“They’re demanding protection money from the Kims and the people in the temple.”
Davy nodded. “If they don’t pay, there’s going to be a fire or something bad is going to happen.”
“That’s the way it works.”
“Have they gone to the police?”
“Yes, but the police can’t be there twenty-four seven. The people know this.”
Danny looked at Davy. “We’ve taken on gang bangers before. I don’t see why–“
”We haven’t taken on Chinese gang bangers before. I know we’ve taken on Hispanics, but those people are bruisers. They do their thing with brute force. The Chinese are smarter. I hate to use the term finesse, but–“
”Gangs are gangs,” said Danny. “We do what we always do. We find their weak spot and we use it.”
Danny looked at Davy. “You’ve already got an idea of how you want to do this, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I believe we should talk to Mr. Kim first.”
“Now, you’re making sense,” smiled Danny.
Davy pulled out a slip of paper. “I have the man’s name and address. He’s definitely old-style Chinese. He’s just what you would expect, a gentleman.”
The next afternoon, Danny and Davy went into Mr. Kim’s store on Canal Street. The second they entered, they both smiled. They were immediately greeted by pleasant, yet unfamiliar aromas from the groceries filling the shelves and the meats and vegetables along the side wall.
Behind the counter they were greeted by a pleasant man in an apron. “We would like to see Mr. Kim if that is possible,” announced Davy.
“I am Fong Kim, how may I serve you? The duck today is especially nice.”
“Mr. Kim, my name is Reverend Tait and this is Father West.”
“I am very pleased to meet you,” said the man with a modest bow of his head. “Now, how can I help you?”
“It is not what you can do for us, Mr. Kim, I hope it is what we can do for you.”
“Thank you, but am not a Christian. Please have good day.” With that, Kim turned away and began arranging what appeared to be pig’s feet.
“No, Mr. Kim, we’re not here for anything like that.”
“Then what you here for?” Kim asked without turning around.
“I believe you are having problems with some street toughs.”
Kim stopped what he was doing but made no effort to turn around. “Street toughs? What street toughs?”
“Gangs, Mr. Kim. Selling protection.”
“Don’t know what you talk about. Know nothing about street toughs. Don’t waste time. Please leave.”
Danny went around the counter and stood beside Kim. He could see the firm resolve on the proud man’s face.
“Mr. Kim,” he said. “For a hundred years, you and your family have occupied this store, rented apartments and provided your people with a temple where they could worship. This is no small accomplishment. Now, all this is being threatened by people with lesser values. Please tell me if I’m wrong. If I am, we will leave.”