Arly's Run by Robert Newton Peck

Author:Robert Newton Peck
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Walker Childrens
Published: 1991-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Coo Coo be true worried.

“Boy,” he kept telling me, “when a picker hightails away from a field crew, there’s usual a reward for people who’ll help to haul him back.”

He didn’t trust a single solitary one of the Golden Prophets of Salvation, not even our leader.

“You mean,” I asked him, “that Holy Joe himself would turn us over to Mr. Boss, for the bounty fee?”

Coo Coo spat. “Most of the Holy Joes I met would sell their mother, father, sister, dog, or grandmother for a dime. And probable deliver all five for a quarter.”

The following evening, Coo Coo and I performed again. His gambling sin. My gimpy fakery, complete with crying and wood under my arm. Our Father discarded the stick I’d earlier used, sharpened a knife, and carved me a new crutch, adding a soft mound of padding for under my arm.

It worked a wonder.

For the bigger shows, at which sometimes even half a hundred hopefuls would attend, seeking to be Saved, our repentance act would have three actors, instead of two.

Delilah posed as my blind sister.

Our finale was more than even the hardest of hearts could bear. Coo Coo (the gambling, dice-rolling, pool-shooting, card-cheating no-good) continued to serve as our opening overture, as Our Father John called it. Then I limped forward on a crutch, trailed by our clincher, little blind Delilah, who groped her sightless way to embrace both Coo Coo and me.

A family united … and Saved.

Salvation.

Never before did I realize that there was so much human saliva in Salvation.

Whenever we put on our tent show Revival Meeting, there was somebody who’d sink to the ground and foam at the mouth. This was a happening that never seemed to upset Our Father John Patrick Mulligan. Instead, he appeared to revel in spit. The more the foam, the more heated come the fervor of his sermon.

At the first foaming fleck, Our Father would hasten to the stricken attendee, fall to his knees, circle his arms around the person, and loudly praise the Lord.

I didn’t know exact why. But, night after night, I started to believe what our Holy Joe was preaching. It took me a spell to understand. Final, it come. The reason I begun to believe Our Father John was because he believed in God. John Patrick Mulligan was becoming a Christian.

Whenever things went wrong, and it was certain that something would go awry, Our Father became less upset, and more helpful. In my eyes, Holy Joe was our father in aplenty of ways. Whenever a Sister didn’t feel up to snuff, Our Father John no longer urged the infirmed one to perform at our Revival.

“Ladies,” he told me in private, “are different than us gentlemen. Their bodies are quite unique, Arly, and someday you will discover this for yourself. I mean in wedlock, naturally.”

“How so different?”

He sighed.

“You are still so young. Please don’t think that you must learn, or discover, everything there is to know in one year. How old are you, Arly?”

I didn’t know.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.