The Pilgrim Song by Gilbert Morris

Author:Gilbert Morris [Gilbert Morris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781441270542
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2012-01-22T18:48:58+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Josh’s Troubles

The freezing wind whipped out of the north, swirled around Josh, and held him as if in a powerful fist. He had set out walking, and a sudden freezing rain had fallen, soaking him to the skin. Now as he stumbled along, he almost turned to go back, but gritting his teeth, he moved ahead. His feet were so numbed by the cold he could not feel them.

He had gone without a drink for four days now, and the craving was consuming him. He had not known how addicted he was to alcohol until now. Feeling the sleet stinging his face, he pulled his scarf up over his chin and mouth and his hat down. He had been sick for two days and had tried to ignore it, but his craving for whiskey had become so strong it drove him out of the house toward Dog Town.

Going back into Summerdale had been out of the question, for since his arrest there, he knew there was no way to get liquor. An old toothless man had stopped his wagon the last time Josh had set out on this road and talked with Josh. He had appeared ignorant and dirty and was headed north, so Josh had said, “You live up that way?”

“Shore, live in Dog Town. You know it?”

“No.”

“Come up and see us sometime.” He had made an odd clicking noise with his false teeth and then winked. “In weather like this a man needs somethin’ to put some fire in his bones. We ain’t got much up there, but we manage to keep warm.”

The words had stayed with Josh and had drawn him out of the house, for he was as miserable as he had ever been in his life. He had six dollars in his pocket and knew he would give the last penny of it for a drink of whiskey. He remembered being in the Bowery in New York once on a Sunday morning with a friend. He had seen with disgust the bodies lying in doorways, men so drunk they couldn’t roll over. They had watched as the paddy wagons loaded them like logs and hauled them off to jail.

I’m no better than they are, he thought, and he hated himself. Still, he kept walking until he finally turned the bend and saw a small scattering of buildings. It wasn’t very much like a town—just a few stores with some shacks surrounding them in a disorderly array. As he moved down what passed for the main street, he saw a general store, a blacksmith shop, a saloon, a gas station, and several other nondescript buildings. He hesitated, then marched toward the saloon.

When he entered, he saw a wood stove glowing cherry red at one end of the room, and the heat from it almost hurt his frozen skin. Scanning the room, he saw four rough-looking men, all with their hats on, sitting around a table playing cards. Across the other end was a bar, and as he stepped over to it, one of the men at the table got up and went behind the bar.

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