River People by Margaret Lukas

Author:Margaret Lukas [Lukas, Margaret]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781945448225
Publisher: BQB Publishing
Published: 2019-01-31T16:00:00+00:00

Rev. Jackdaw shivered on the cold street corner, pacing back and forth for warmth. He held his slate high, the word “REPENT” fading in the wet, falling snow. No use pulling out his stub of chalk to write the word again. His overturned hat sat on the sidewalk close to his feet and served as a bucket for donations. His thin hair hung limp and dripped onto his brow. His eye slept quiet as a baby. This was the Lord’s work; the cold was a privilege. God allowed those who would be great to be tested. Just as He’d allowed Job to be tested.

Half a block away, Storz Brewery stood six hundred feet tall. All fifteen buildings, the paper reported, had red tiled floors, stainless steel and copper fixtures. With that edifice to the devil in the background, the corner was normally profitable. A woman hurried down the street with her eyes lowered against the snow, and her hat tugged down on her forehead. He waited, watched her come, saw the moment she saw him: too late to step across the street.

“I see by the light in your eyes, sister.” He’d seen only dread. “You are one of God’s chosen.”

Her stance softened realizing he was a man of God. “Good day, sir.” A small tip in her lips as she tried to pass.

Some days his work reaped more profit than others. Today, the snow and cold kept most home, but on a good day, a bill or two was dropped into his hat, and women stopped to hear his preaching. He caught her elbow with his fingers, not pressing too tight. She didn’t jerk away, though to keep hold he had to step forward with her backward step. A young man would shove him off, maybe raise a fist, but women were schooled to be inoffensive. They dropped coins in hopes of negotiating and considered themselves lucky to get away. “A bit to help our church,” he said. He lifted a hand toward the brewery. “Together, we will rid the city of its evils.”

She fumbled with her purse strings, and he let go of her arm. Though she refused to meet his gaze, she stepped the two feet ahead to his hat and dropped in a coin. He knew to keep his hat always three feet in front of him in the direction the pedestrian was moving. The placement allowed an easier escape; let a person drop in money and hurry on with no chance of being grabbed again. Trial and error had taught him relief made them more generous.

“The Lord’s blessings,” he said. Not all were as cold as this one. Some stepped up close as soon as he mentioned the light in their eyes or his desire to rid the city of its evils. Women mostly, prohibitionists who supposed they, too, had a calling. Those were the women who invited him to their houses and fed him hearty meals.

His stomach growled at the thought, and he wondered about Effie and Rooster.

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