EMPowered- America Re-Energized by Diane Matousek Schnabel

Author:Diane Matousek Schnabel
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2015-11-11T05:00:00+00:00

93

Cimarron River, Oklahoma

SYBIL HAD AWAKENED early and gone straight to the small barn where Pastor Muhlenberg stabled Moses. The eight-year-old American quarter horse had a golden coat with a white mane and tail, all in need of grooming.

Brush stroking vigorously over the horse’s shoulder, Sybil thought about yesterday’s strange turn of events. After the peacekeepers began attacking one another, fed-up residents had commandeered weapons from the fallen soldiers and driven the surviving troops out of town.

“There she is,” Pastor Muhlenberg said as he and Izzy entered the barn. “Nice work. You’ve done this before.”

“I used to have an Arabian horse named Star, but she got grass sickness and ...” Her voice faltered and she began brushing faster. “And I figured it was the least I could do since you fed and housed Izzy and me.”

“Well, y’all are welcome to stay on,” the pastor told them.

“Thanks,” Izzy said. “But I really need to find my dad.”

“And we need to warn people about the peacekeepers.” Sybil paused, trying to detangle a particularly matted section of the horse’s mane. “Besides, the UW will be coming back to Cimarron—”

“And we’ll be ready. No welcoming them as heroes next time.” Muhlenberg adjusted his cowboy hat and cleared his throat. “Well, if I can’t persuade y’all to stay, maybe I can convince ya to head south. That UW contingent came from the north and retreated that way. It’ll be extremely dangerous and y’all can’t warn people already under occupation.”

Sybil and Izzy swapped wary glances.

“But I really need to find my dad,” Izzy protested.

“I know, Son. There’s a big Air Force Base down in Texas, called Langden. If y’all go there, I bet they’ll put-cha in touch with your father. And y’all can take Moses, here, to speed your journey.”

“Oh no, we couldn’t,” Sybil said.

“You need Moses to hunt and trade for food,” Izzy added.

“Son, the Lord just gave this town a tanker full of diesel fuel and a UW truck with hundreds of horsepower. Surely, I can spare one horsepower,” the pastor said with a wink.

“Okay, then. We’ll go south,” Izzy said, sounding resigned.

“After Sunday services?” he asked. “I’ve been workin’ on a sermon I’d like y’all to hear.”

By the time Sybil finished grooming Moses, people were already wandering into the one-room church. She and Izzy were ushered into the first row of pews, and she fidgeted, unable to get comfortable on the austere wooden seat.

Pastor Muhlenberg approached the pulpit, cloaked in a black robe. “We have had a trying week, by any measure. Our town was invaded, but God did not let this injustice stand. The so-called peacekeepers seized our food, yet our larder has swelled by a truck full. They confiscated our guns and ammunition, yet our arsenal has doubled. They brought Alameda fever to Cimarron River, claiming the lives of family, friends, and neighbors, yet our resolve has deepened. The Bible states there is a time for all things. A time to preach. A time to pray. A time for peace ... Those times have passed away.

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