Rise Again: To the Colors by Paul Lally

Author:Paul Lally [Lally, Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: RO:SF
Published: 2017-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

Over the past hundred years, a hundred thousand “amens” must have rattled the walls of the Blacksville Methodist church. Probably a hell of a lot more than that. But nobody keeps count of such things. Nor do they of words like “hell” and “damn” when they happen here, unless coming from the pulpit, where Reverend Ethan Grey now stands, not wearing a suit and tie like he does on Sundays, but still in the bib overalls and blue work shirt he wore while raking leaves. The townsfolk ain’t come here to pray, they’ve come to decide.

His work clothes pretty much match those of the packed congregation sitting and standing before him and talking amongst themselves in the kind of excited way that makes the buzz of their voices rise and fall like waves.

Jeb sits in the front pew, alone except for Sergeant Major Leggett. Thanks to the sergeant’s foresight, Jeb’s decked out in his “Class A” uniform: a plain, single-breasted, high collared, grey jacket with twin rows of brass buttons down the front. The ornate “Austrian knot” embroidery on his sleeves is done up in black, not gold, like on his dress uniform. His matching grey pants have twin black stripes down the seams denoting his rank, and on his upright collar, an embroidered wreath surrounding a circle of five stars.

Sergeant Leggett ain’t quite as done up as Jeb, but his “Three-up, three-down” blue chevrons on his sleeves look impressive against the grey wool, plus a fancy worsted waist sash done up in yellow to denote cavalry.

Jeb’s glad they’re sitting up front. That way he can’t see the crowd that’s packed in behind him. But he will, soon enough, when Reverend Grey motions him – not to the pulpit – but to take his place in front of the three elders sitting in their respective chairs, with their weathered hands folded. The three old-timers make him think of “hear no evil, speak no evil…” and he smiles for a second, but wipes it away, because one of the guys gives him “the look” and it reminds him of his daddy, and that sets off a whole string of thoughts that end up pissing him off, and that’s how he needs to feel right now; angry, not with himself for failing his father when he needed it the most, but with the Nazis for pissing on his country.

“Thank you, Jesus,” he whispers.

“You praying, sir?”

“Sort of.”

Reverend Grey taps the microphone on the pulpit and the THUMP-THUMP is like spraying water on a blaze. The conversations abruptly fall off a cliff into absolute silence.

“Thanks for coming, folks,” he begins. “Ain’t seen most of you here since last Easter.”

That gets a guilty laugh or two.

“Nothing like the enemy at the gates to get folks on their knees.” He tilts his head sideways. “But I don’t expect we’re gonna’ stay there for long. Leastwise, General Lee, here, don’t’ think so. Right, sir?”

Jeb nods and that gets a rustle and mutter.

Hard to read a mutter.

He’s dying to crane his neck around and see just exactly who his opponents are.

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