The sun was only just
rising behind the church when two men met on its steps.
“Thank you for meeting
me here so early,” said Rolando Desjarlais to the man he was awaiting and was
pleased to see.
Frederick Strunk was
just as happy to see Rolando. As he
approached he stopped and pulled up the sign which read: FOR SALE by Strunk Realtors. Then he went to Rolando, warmly shook his
hand and replied: “Rollo, please, it is
I who must thank you, for enabling me to take down this sign. This church was on the market almost five
years. Today you’ve made me a very happy
real estate agent, and this morning there’s nowhere I’d rather be than here
handing you these.”
With a flourish he held
out a set of keys and dropped them in Rollo’s palm. Rollo opened the door and led them into the
entryway of the church. Fred set his
sign down behind the door then followed Rollo.
“It’ll be some work, but
I plan to have it ready for its inaugural service this coming Sunday,” Rollo
explained. “It won’t be perfect by then,
mind you, but certainly clean enough to worship the Lord in.”
The church was in
somewhat disarray. Furniture was pushed
and stacked against the faded, peeling walls. It had been previously Russian Orthodox, and
ornate décor and several icons were visible through the sheen of dust. They stepped into the spacious nave, which
had a capacity for over two hundred persons.
Most of the worn pews were intact, but a few were broken out and leaned
against one wall. Along the bottom of
the opposite wall was a row of seven air conditioners and in the middle of the
room there was a table stacked with hymnals and prayer books.
“That’s an ambitious
schedule,” Frederick said, “but you are an ambitious man for trying to start a
bank and a church in the same week.”
“In many ways the two
go hand in hand,” Rollo answered. “Both
need local support to thrive, and I can invite the bank customers to join me in
praising the Lord, while offering my congregation a safe place to keep their
money. I’m new to town, and need to
build a trust.”
“You will start meeting
everyone today,” Fred replied. “I should
get going. I too have an office to open.”
“My first service is
this coming Sunday,” Rollow explained, “ and will be followed by an all day
potluck open house meet and greet. The
whole town is invited, so please spread the word to everyone you know.”
Rollo walked him out,
where they shook hands again then parted.
Rollo was a man about fifty who had a full head of hair that was still
thick and dark, and skin still youthfully smooth. He wore a fake pair of round spectacles,
because he thought they made him look more intellectual and trustworthy. He also sported a gaudy gold ring on a
finger, and a gold watch on his wrist.
He was moving to St
Petersburg to open the Neighborhood Bank and Trust, as well as a non
denominational ministry of Christ. He
had been in banking all his adult life, and had several heavyweight investors
backing his venture. He had also always
preached the word almost every Sunday for just as long, and thus was versed in
both vocations. He returned inside and
started inspecting the premises more closely, assessing what was necessary to
make the church presentable, and concluded that it was going to require copious
quantities of paint, cleaning supplies and elbow grease.
He wandered into the
office, where he was surprised by the sound of snoring. There was a large oak desk piled with random
books and pages, and lying on the floor behind it was a man wrapped in a
sleeping bag. Rollo stood over and
looked down at the man. He was black,
with a face wizened by hard wrinkles and gray stubble. His head was bald and his stature diminutive.
“Who are you?” Rollo
boldly asked, tapping him lightly with his foot.
The man stirred, and
his eyes fluttered as he brought his hand up to shield them from the light. He shook his head then replied with the same
question: “Who are you?”
“I just purchased this
church,” Rollo answered. “And you?”
He sat up on his
elbows. “I’ve been sleeping here for a
little while.”
“What’s your name?”
Rollo asked.
“Radford Veen, everyone
calls me Raddy. Please to meet you,” he
said, extending Rollo his hand. Raddy had offered his hand to be shook, but Rollo used it to pull him to his feet. Rollo looked around and noticed dirty clothes
beneath the desk, and some packaged food and empty wrappers.
“A squatter,” he muttered under his breath. “How long is
a little while?”
“A couple weeks, maybe
a month,” Raddy answered.
Rollo knew the law
protected squatters, and how quickly they could become headaches, and that the
more swiftly and decisively they were dealt with the better. Raddy was only about five foot four, and
Rollo a full foot taller. He tried to
use this height difference to seem intimidating.
“I’m afraid I have to
ask you to leave,” he coldly stated.
“Please, man…come
on! I have nowhere to call home,” Raddy
protested. “I had no idea the church had
been sold. At least give me a couple
days to find a place to go.”
“The insurance doesn’t
cover tenants, and if anything were to happen I’d be liable. Unfortunately I’m afraid I have to stand
firm.”
“I could help you start
cleaning up,” Raddy offered, taking a few steps back into the sanctuary and
pointing to the mess. “I would have
started already but I didn’t want to touch anything out of respect for whoever
might buy it.”
“How do you get in
here?” Rollo asked.
Raddy pointed to the
bank of air conditioners along the west wall.
“The sixth one is missing.
See? I crawl in and out the
hole.”
“You fit through that
small opening?” Rollo mused, then looked down his eyeglasses at Raddy. “I suppose you do. I’ll have to fix that first thing.”
“Aren’t you going to
hire painters and cleaners?” Raddy asked.
“If you are, you can hire me, and if you plan to do it yourself, I can
help. I’m a handyman by trade, and would
love to find some work.”
“What I don’t do myself
I plan to contract out,” Rollo answered.
“It wouldn’t be right of me to tell them who to hire. But you can drop back by in a couple or few
days, and if I can use you then I’ll put you to work. I just need a day or two to sort things
out. And the church opens this coming Sunday,
and everyone is invited, so please tell your friends and please come along
yourself.”
Rollo’s eviction
registered with Raddy, and he started back to the office, muttering: “I see how it is…you’re one of those cold
hearted preachers.” He quickly gathered
his things into a little bundle and Rollo led him to the front door.
“I’m really not one of
those cold hearted preachers,” Rollo explained.
“Whatever that means. I just need
to err on the side of caution. I did
invite you to come back, and as I get the church going we’ll be able and
willing to help you back to your feet.”
“You did just help me
to my feet, only to lead me to the door, showing me the way out,” Raddy said
contemptuously. “Like I said, one of
those preachers.” He walked away.
“You’re wrong about
that,” Rollo protested. “Come back in a
couple days and you’ll see.”
Rollo still had a couple hours before he had to be at the bank for the
grand opening, and he was nervous with energy for the big day, and decided to
burn some by tackling the mess. He’d
been sliding furniture around for a few minutes when he heard a knock on the
door. He opened it to find that Fred had
returned.
“I forgot my sign,” he
said, pointing to it behind the door. “I
need to post it on another property this morning.”
“Of course,” Rollo
said. “Hey, while you’re here, could you
give me a quick hand moving a couple of heavy things?”
“Sure, by all means,”
Fred answered. They had moved one large
wooden table and were picking up a second when they heard rustling at the front
of the church. They looked to see Raddy
slither through the hole and back inside.
“What are you doing
here?” Rollo asked.
“I thought it was
because I forgot my toothbrush but I see now that the Lord led me back to see how
things really are,” Raddy observed. “Your
white friend is good enough to help you, but not a brother, and a brother in
Christ at that.”
“It’s not that at all,”
Rollo said, clearly bristling.
“Who is this?” Fred
asked. “How do you two know each other?”
Raddy quickly answered
before Rollo could. “This abandoned
house of God has been my home for the past few weeks, and now this man, who is
coming to establish a house of Christ, has asked me to leave that house. If a man would do that to his brother, we
can’t really be of the same family.”
“Really? Is that true?” Fred asked,
looking to Rollo for an explanation.
“That’s not exactly
correct,” Rollo answered defensively. “I
just need a couple of days to organize my thoughts into a plan, and to get started. I told him to stop by later in the week, and
invited him to Sunday’s open house service.”
Fred’s eyes looked on
Rollo scornfully, while Raddy’s were hopeful.
Rollo knew Raddy was manipulating him with shame, and had no choice but
to give in. “Listen,” he continued. “You’ve actually given me an idea. Stay in the office while you look for a place
and you can help me out here in exchange.
Let me think about the specifics and I’ll come up with an equitable arrangement.”
“All right!” Raddy
exclaimed. “I’ll grab my things! They’re right in the yard!” He ran back to the hole and crawled out.
Fred gave Rollo a
curious, scrutinizing look.
“Let’s move this table
there and then I’ve got to get along to the bank,” Rollo said. They did so quickly then Fred took his sign
and they left before Raddy had returned.
