Below are the first five chapters (30 pages) of my novel Captivity, which is now available on amazon.
Introduction
Introduction
Captivity is set in Florida. I sought to write about all aspects of the
pernicious private prison industry and the harshly punitive sentencing laws
that have conspired to win America the ignominious title of most incarcerated
nation on earth. Mandatory minimum,
truth in sentencing and three strike laws vary from state to state, so it was
necessary for me to invoke my constitutionally protected artistic liberty and
bend all to Florida in my fiction.
Prison regulations also vary, and there are no conjugal trailers in
Florida’s prisons. Only six states
permit the privilege, and years ago in Connecticut an inmate I knew well had
conjugal visits with her husband in an onsite trailer, which was the
inspiration for that storyline. The
arrest stories were culled from the news and are all true, and in many cases I
have left the actual names should anyone care to read more. Special thanks to my long time friend Irving
Pinsky, an outstanding New Haven attorney who freely shares his legal expertise
with friends and strangers, and who was never more than minutes away with
answers to my many random legal questions.
1
The sun was only just rising behind the church when
two men met on its steps.
“Thank you for coming so early,” said Roland Hooker to
the man he was awaiting, and was greatly pleased to see.
Frederick Strunk was equally delighted to see
Roland. As he approached he paused and
pulled from the ground the sign which read:
FOR SALE by Strunk Realtors. Then
he went to Roland, warmly shook his hand and replied: “Rollo, please, it is I who must thank you,
for enabling me at long last to take down this sign. This church was on the market almost five
years. Today you’ve made me one very
pleased and very relieved real estate agent, and this morning there’s nowhere
I’d rather be than right 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 abandoned church. Fred set his sign down behind the door then
followed Rollo inside.
“It’s going to be a lot of work, but it’s a challenge
I embrace. I have already decided to
name this church Zion West, and its inaugural service will be this coming
Sunday,” Rollo explained. “It won’t be
perfect by then, mind you, but I’ll certainly have it fit for worshiping the
Lord.”
The church was in somewhat disarray. Folding chairs were haphazardly stacked
against the faded, peeling walls, and the once white curtains were tattered and
yellow. Its previous incarnation had
been a Russian Orthodox church, and ornate décor and several icons were visible
through layers 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 piled in a corner.
Along the bottom of the opposite wall was a row of seven air conditioners
and beside the altar there was a table stacked with dusty hymnals and prayer
books.
“That’s an ambitious schedule,” Frederick observed,
“but you are an ambitious man for trying to start a bank and a church in the
same week.”
“The two go hand in hand,” Rollo replied. “Both need local life blood to thrive, and I
can invite the bank customers to join me in praising the Lord, while offering
my congregation trustworthy hands to handle their money. I’m new to town, and seek to build a trust,
which I am trusting in the Lord to build.”
“You will start meeting everyone this morning,” Fred
said. “I should get going. I too have an office to open today.”
“Zion West’s first service is this coming Sunday,”
Rollo reminded, “which 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 with a full head of hair
still thick and dark, and skin still somewhat youthfully smooth. He frequently wore a pair of fake round
spectacles, because he thought they made him look more intelligent and
introspective, and that they enhanced the upright image he wanted to
convey. While not a man one would immediately
call a dandy, he did dress well; and his left ring finger sported a gaudy gold
ring, while a diamond crusted gold watch encircled his right wrist.
He had moved to St. Petersburg to open the
Neighborhood Bank and Trust, as well as Zion West, a non denominational
ministry of Christ. He had been in
banking all his adult life, and had several wealthy investors backing his
venture. He had also preached the word
almost every Sunday, in several different churches, for just as long, and thus
was versed in both vocations. He
returned inside and inspected the premises more closely, 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 him.
He was black, with a hard wizened face dotted with gray stubble. His head was bald and his stature
diminutive.
“Who are you?” Rollo 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 property,” Rollo answered. “I own this church. And you?”
He groggily 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 shaken in greeting, 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 be
intimidating.
“I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave,” he coldly
stated.
“Are you the new pastor?” Raddy asked.
Rollo hesitated, then answered: “I am.”
“Please, man…come on!
I have nowhere else to go,” Raddy protested. “I had no idea the church had been sold. At least give me a couple days to find a
place.”
“The insurance doesn’t cover tenants, and if anything
were to happen I’d be liable,” Rollo answered.
“Since this place is a cluttered mess that’s even more likely, so
unfortunately I’m afraid I have to stand firm and ask you to leave.”
“I could help you start cleaning up,” Raddy offered,
taking a few steps into the sanctuary and pointing in the general direction of
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 aperture?” 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
coldly answered. “It wouldn’t be right
of me to tell whoever I hire for that who to employ. 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 hard hearted, ‘do as I say not as I do’
preachers. The devil will say anything
for a dollar; that’s why the world is so full of false prophets.” He quickly gathered his things into a little
bundle and Rollo escorted him to the front door.
“I’m really not one of those cold hearted preachers,”
Rollo protested. “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 growing we will be more able and willing to help you to
your feet.”
“You did just help me to my feet, only to lead me to
the door and show me the way out,” Raddy said contemptuously. “Like I said, one of those preachers.” He walked away.
“You’re wrong about that,” Rollo insisted, then called
after: “Come back in a couple days and
you’ll see.”
Raddy ignored him and hastily departed. Rollo still had a couple hours before he had
to be at the bank for the nine AM grand opening, and the big day had him filled
with nervous energy, so he decided to burn some off by tackling the mess. He had rolled his sleeves and had been
shuffling furniture and things 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,” Fred said, pointing to it behind
the door. “I need to post it on another
property this morning.”
“Of course,” Rollo responded, showing him in. “Hey, while you’re here, could you give me a
quick hand moving a couple of heavy things?”
“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 and saw Raddy
slither in through the hole.
“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 show me how things really are,” Raddy
observed. “Your white friend is good
enough to help you, but not a brother, and a brother in Jesus at that.”
“It’s not that at all,” Rollo replied, bristling.
“Who is this?” Fred asked. “How do you two know each other?”
Raddy quickly answered before Rollo could. “I’m homeless. This abandoned house of God has been my home
for the past few weeks, and now this man, who claims to have come to establish
a house of Christ here, has asked me to leave that house. If a man would do that to a brother he’s
supposed to love, can we really be members of the same family?”
“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 at Rollo scornfully, while Raddy’s were
hopeful. Rollo knew Raddy was
manipulating him with shame, and had no choice but to relent. “Listen,” Rollo continued. “You’ve actually given me an idea. Continue to stay in the office while you look
for a place and you can help me out here in exchange. Let me think about it and I’ll come up with
an equitable arrangement.”
“Alright!” Raddy exclaimed. “I’ll grab my things! They’re right in the yard!” He ran back to the hole in the wall and
crawled out.
Fred gave Rollo a curious, scrutinizing look.
“Let’s just move this table there and then I’ve got to
get along to the bank,” Rollo said. They
did so in haste, then at Rollo’s urging Fred took his sign and they left before
Raddy returned.
2
Rollo went straight to the bank, about two miles into
town. The Neighborhood Bank and Trust
was located in a refurbished house that Rollo had bought at foreclosure. Someone else had previously converted the
house to a bank, complete with a walk in vault; so Rollo had little to do to
ready it to open. Over the weekend he’d
had it decorated with patriotic bunting and oversized ribbon and bows; and had
arranged for the local bakery to prepare a tray of muffins and pastry, which he
picked up along the way. Then he entered
the bank, set the tray of goodies out along with fresh coffee, and awaited the
arrival of his employees. He’d hired two
tellers and an accounts manager to start, who all arrived promptly at eight
thirty.
The tellers were two pretty young women with some
experience in banking, Sally Alton and Wanda Benners, and the accounts manager
was a recent college graduate with a finance degree named Martin Lafayette.
They were all in their places when at nine Rollo
opened the door and…little happened. A
couple people were there waiting to open new accounts, and a couple more
trickled in throughout the morning, and a few people wandered in to have a look
and a donut, but it wasn’t nearly as busy as Rollo had hoped. Shortly after twelve he went out for lunch. The police station was on the next block, so
he stopped in to introduce himself. He
met a couple of the front desk people, then was introduced to the captain, an
older man named Jim Jarple. Jarple had a
rough, muscular face and the burly body to match. He invited Rollo to his office for a brief meet
and greet.
“We do wish you the best of luck with your bank, and
hope it’s as much a boon to St. Pete as to yourself,” Jim said warmly, offering
him a seat.
Rollo preferred to stand. “I thank you for your kind wishes,” he
replied. “Maybe we could sit down some
time and go over your finances. I can
probably rewrite your mortgage at a lower rate while putting a few bucks in
your pocket. I’d be happy to treat you
to lunch some time.”
“Smaller payments and cash in hand?” Jarple
responded. “How are you going to turn
that magic trick?”
“It’s a sacrifice on the bank’s part in the short term
to grow the business within the bigger picture of the long run,” he
explained. “He who gets in earliest
benefits the most; you would be the first.
It’s not a very complex business model.”
“My wife tells me you’re also opening that church out
on State street,” Jim said.
“That I am,” Rollo replied. “It’s a non denominational church of Christ
called Zion West. Our first service is
this coming Sunday. It’s going to be an
all day open house; lunch and refreshment will be served; bring your wife and
tell your friends. Everyone is welcome.”
“I will tell her I met you,” Jim answered. “She’s more interested in religion than I,
and I’m sure she’ll want to know more.”
“Wonderful,” Rollo said. “I’ll let you get back to your work, I’m new
to the neighborhood and you’ll be seeing more of me; I just wanted to show my
face and tell you my name.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Jim said. “If you ever need police, you know where to
find us. And I’ll consider your offer.”
Rollo went to the nearby diner for lunch, where he
introduced himself to everyone and invited them to join him at the bank and the
coming Sunday at his church. Then he
returned to the bank where the afternoon lulled and crept along then picked up
late, and he let everyone leave and stayed a couple hours past closing to write
two new accounts.
He had planned to stop by the church on his way home,
but rather decided to wait and go early the following day; to keep Raddy in
suspense, and perhaps catch him by surprise again.
He softly let himself into the church early the next
morning. He was prepared to confront
Raddy, and had rehearsed words; but he wasn’t prepared for what he found. The church was already half transformed. The missing pews were repaired, the scattered
furniture gathered and arranged, the floor was swept and the walls were scraped
and scrubbed and ready to paint. There
were also nine bags of trash neatly piled at the side door.
He wandered into the office to look for Raddy on the
floor behind the desk. He wasn’t
there. He attuned his ears for Raddy’s
sonorous snores, and heard them, and followed the sound to a large walk in
closet where Raddy was on the floor asleep upon a mattress. He sensed Rollo’s presence and woke right up.
“Good morning!” he said, jumping to his feet. “I take it you saw the work I did.”
“I did, and it looks good,” Rollo replied.
“You just need some spackle for a few cracks and
holes, and paint and brushes and rollers,” Raddy explained. “I was restless, and that mess has been
driving me nuts, but I didn’t want to touch anything until I knew what whoever
bought it wanted done.”
“It must have taken you all day,” Rollo mused.
“Come with me,” Raddy said, leading the way. “I’ll show you what I did, and tell you a few
ideas I have.” He gave Rollo a quick
tour of the church, detailing what he’d accomplished while offering his
thoughts. Then he pointed to the large,
high ceiling and said: “I was even
thinking I could paint a mural there.
I’m no Michelangelo, but neither is this the Sistine Chapel, and I
reckon I could render an angel sitting on a cloud in the sky. I have a very talented hand, I’ve just never
had paints and a canvas to show it.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Rollo
said. “First thing is to get it ready
for Sunday.”
“And I can help you do that,” Raddy responded. “You said you would arrive at an equitable
arrangement for me to stay here. Did you
come up with anything yet? I like to
work, but I sure could use a couple dollars in my pocket, and I did put in
twelve hours yesterday.”
“Well, I told you yesterday that you’d given me an
idea, and that was to invite potential congregants to painting parties, as a
way of bringing them together in fellowship outside of worship,” Rollo
explained. “It would benefit me, and it
would benefit them while bonding us all.”
Raddy was crestfallen.
“So you want free help. You said
yesterday you were planning to call contractors. I know I could undercut what you were willing
to pay them, and it’s obvious I do good work.”
“I was thinking I could pay you with your room and
board for the time that you’re here,” Rollo suggested. “You have been staying here for several
weeks….”
Raddy was incredulous.
“You want to bill me for back rent?
Last I checked you lease this house from God, and are only subletting to
me, and He said I could stay here for free until He takes me where he plans to
lead me next.”
“You talk to God?” Rollo skeptically asked.
“No, He talks to me and I listen,” Raddy replied. “Why, you don’t believe me? And what do you mean, room and board? You aren’t feeding me, and there’s no
electricity, so there’s no board, only room.
In the meantime I need cash to eat!”
Rollo reluctantly reached into his pocket, removed his
billfold and peeled off a ten, which he slowly handed to Raddy.
“Ten dollars?” Raddy sharply responded. “You want to pay me ten dollars for twelve
hours work? That’s less than a dollar an
hour! Come on, now. Let’s not set the country back two centuries
in one petty transaction!”
Rollo thought it over, then handed Raddy another forty
dollars and said: “I’ll give you six
bucks an hour and you can stay here till you find a place. And I do want you to find a place.”
“Well, a handful of cash certainly makes it easier to
look for rooms,” Raddy answered. “And six bucks an hour is a lot of hours
before I’ll be able to afford one. It’ll
probably take me at least a week. Are
you going to bring a time clock, or do you trust my watch? I’ll be working every waking hour saving to
get out of here.”
“I have to be getting along to work,” Rollo said. “There’s a hardware store in town. I’ll stop on my way and give them some money
or open an account with them, and will explain that you’ll be by later today
for some painting supplies. Can you
handle that?”
“Surely can,” Raddy replied. “The hardware store is right next to the
grocery market where I’ll be picking up a few things for dinner.”
“Very well,” Rollo said, turning to leave. “I’ll be back later today or tomorrow
morning.”
3
That morning was slow at the bank, so Rollo left for
lunch early and spent the afternoon walking around the neighborhood introducing
himself to the locals and inviting them to utilize the services of Neighborhood
Bank and to attend services at his new church, Zion West. Depending upon the person he offered a fifty
dollar bonus if they opened a savings account at a certain minimum maintained for
six months, or as he had with captain Jarple, a mortgage refinanced at a lower
rate. He also engaged in a couple
discussions about the Bible. He went
from the bank to the neighboring insurance office, which was owned by William
Alvers. Then he went to the newspaper
office, where he met the editor in chief, Gilbert Goodrich, the managing
editor, Adele Benevides, and a couple of
reporters, Barnabas Devereux and Chelsea Hobbs. He stopped by the florist and introduced
himself to the owners, a married couple named Danny and Dolores Leigh. He then went next door to Valentini’s Pizza
where he met Guido, Biaggio and Antonio Valentini, the three brothers who owned
the shop, and where he purchased a couple of pizzas which he walked across the
street to the firehouse, where he introduced himself and had lunch with several
firemen, Kelly Llewellyn, Manuel Rodriguez, Harry Brazleton and Elvin Birdwell,
the fire chief. Thence it was onward to
the library, where he presented himself to the librarians, Marion Eckles and
William Bongwell; and to the office of CPA Milton Hastett. The accountant was married to Melissa Eward
Hastett, who ran the Spanish restaurant that occupied the front half of the
building. From there Rollo went across
the street and met a printer named Joel Crebona, and then went next door and
said hello to Georgina and Melody Sweet, sisters in the family who owned the
bakery he’d recently patronized. He
bought a box of their cookies and brought them to back to the bank and shared
them with his staff and customers then passed the rest of the afternoon in his
office.
4
As the week went by and Raddy fervently completed the
work of three men, Rollo decided to save a few dollars by chipping in his own
hands redecorating the church, and on Thursday afternoon he went to there,
donned overalls and got to work alongside Raddy. They were scraping at faded wallpaper and
rolling out paint when Jarple stopped by.
Raddy and Rollo both paused to put down their implements and say hello,
and when it was clear the conversation was between Rollo and Jarple, Raddy
excused himself to go the hardware store.
“I’ve thought over your offer,” Jarple said, “about re
writing my mortgage, and if you’re serious, I’d like the details and to go
ahead with it.”
“Of course I’m serious, and I can explain it quite
simply right now. Let’s have a seat,”
Rollo suggested, motioning to the pews. They made themselves comfortable on one
in the last row and Rollo continued. “As
I explained before, it’s a deal on which the bank takes a slight loss in
exchange for exposure and good word of mouth in the community, which is
priceless. That is the best way to build
business, especially in a place like St. Petersburg, where the people are many
and the competition fierce.”
“Well, I’d like to take advantage of your offer,”
Jarple said.
“Acceptance of offer accepted,” Rollo drolly
replied. “I’ll draw the paperwork in the
morning knocking roughly one percent off your interest rate and giving you two
thousand cash in hand for the refinance on the equity. You can stop by any time in the afternoon to
approve and sign the documents and collect your cash. I would ask, however, that you keep this
between us—strictly between us. I may
extend the similar offer to a select few, but people finding out I was treating
them differently than others would be just as bad for business.”
“If you can’t trust a cop to remain silent, who can
you trust?”
Rollo chuckled and rejoined: “A pastor who runs a bank.”
They laughed together, then Jarple gave utterance to
some thoughts that had been in his mind.
“I’m torn between trusting the pastor and the banker here,” he said.
“I am one and the same,” Rollo replied. “You can trust both.”
Jarple paused before continuing. “We have a Policeman’s Benevolence fund that
accumulates and disperses rather large sums of cash at varying times. We do a lot for public charity, but…”
Surprised at the sudden pause, Rollo finally
said: “But what?”
“I don’t know whether to confide in the banker or
confess to the pastor,” he finally finished.
“Do either with confidence,” Rollo declared. “The pastor won’t pass any judgment and the
banker would never betray. I regard both
confidences as sacred as those between patients and doctors, or defendants and
lawyers, or penitents and God.”
Jarple looked carefully into Rollo’s face, which he
softened to be warm and trustworthy.
“We receive many generous donations from the public we
protect, of course,” Jarple began, “and which we return to them in the form of
camps for underprivileged children and other charitable outreach…but we do have
other revenue streams.” Chafed with
curiosity, Rollo waited patiently and Jarple continued. “A couple of revenue streams that aren’t
exactly…that might not be condoned by the public for some reasons, and the law
for others.”
“Well, the public outcry was wrong when it demanded
Christ’s blood, and the Bible does say that where there is no law there is no
transgression, and that many laws of men are wrong in God’s eyes,” Rollo
replied.
“Behind the iron clad cover of the thin blue line we
run two major financial generators,” Jarple bluntly admitted. He had been sufficiently comforted in Rollo’s
presence that he not only decided to confide, but to do so with the slight
braggadocio that was his inclination when speaking of the enterprises to
friends or trusted acquaintances. “First
began with our systematic removal of the mafia from the city years ago. After fighting them for so long we came to
the realization that it was easier—and safer for the public—to simply take over
their collections and keep them at a distance from within the city rather than
battling the endless army of replacements as we took them out one at a
time. It’s been going on for years, very
quietly, fairly and without complaint, and amounts to as much as several
thousand a week. I truly believe lives
have been saved and the public made safer by this arrangement.”
Rollo sought to justify him. “You are the force of good in the ongoing
battle against evil. When God gave the
Israelites the promised land they too had to fight with the many enemy nations
they eventually conquered, and in many instances along with victory God gave
the Israelites houses to dwell in that they had not built, and vineyards to
enjoy that they had not planted, and much booty of silver and gold, so you are
not necessarily doing wrong in God’s eyes, but rightly ignoring sinful and
aberrant laws of men to do what is truly right.”
“It encourages me to hear that, especially from you,”
Jarple said. The relief he felt further
emboldened him. “The second source of
revenue is high stakes poker. Some years
ago we started a game for recreation, but poker is not poker unless there are
stakes—without value chips are nothing more than snacks, and the game no more
than mindless card turning. There are a
number of policeman and other local high rollers who alleviate the pressures of
their lives through poker. So rather
than forcing them to trek to a casino and play with strangers and have their
winnings raked, we make it more comfortable and convenient and enjoyable, and
we take a smaller vig, a percentage of which finds its way into the Benevolence
fund.”
Rollo was about to respond to Jarple when he noticed
Raddy standing in the doorway behind them, and instead turned and addressed
him. “How long have you been standing
there?”
“Not long,” Raddy answered. “I need bolts so I can secure those last few
pews. I was halfway there when I
realized I forgot to bring one along so that they could match it exactly. I just need a wrench.” He went to the tool pile, found a wrench and
returned to the nave to remove a bolt from the floor.
“How much do you think he heard?” Jarple quietly asked
Rollo.
“I have no way of knowing,” he softly and nervously
answered. “I was paying attention to you
and didn’t notice when exactly he appeared.”
“He’s been around here his whole life, and in trouble
with the law several times,” Jarple explained.
“We watch him, and know he’s been staying in this church for about a
year. Be careful letting him stay
here—the law favors squatters, and if you ever want him gone you may find it
more difficult than simply asking him to leave.”
“I have been wondering and worried about that,” Rollo
replied.
With the bolt in hand Raddy took his leave a second
time and headed to the hardware store.
They waited in awkward silence and stared hard at him as he departed,
then resumed their conversation.
“As to the card game, I wouldn’t worry much about the
security of making deposits into a Benevolence fund,” Rollo reassured. “I’m the top of the chain, and if I don’t
question anything, nobody will.”
“Well, if I can trust your full confidence, that can
amount to several thousand dollars a month, and while we do a reasonable amount
of charitable work, we also…we pay ourselves bonuses. We consider ourselves underpaid—after all,
what price is fair exchange for putting one’s life on the line every day? Rather than fighting with the politicians who
seek to underpay us while destroying our union, we find it much simpler and
easier and less stressful on ourselves and our families to go along with them
while redressing the difference in our own quiet way. Everyone’s happy and the public is safer,” he
concluded.
“Again I see no wrong,” Rollo appeased. “God gave us the gift of life, and betwixt
great joys and sorrows, lighter moments and entertainment are not sin. If you’d like to move the Policemen’s
Benevolence fund to our bank I’d be happy to place it into a non profit, tax
exempt account. You’ll be able to move
money in, out and around it however you like.”
“I’ll do that tomorrow afternoon when I come by to
sign the refinanced mortgage,” Jarple said, rising up and extending his
hand. “Thank you for your trust.”
“It is I obligated to thank you for trusting me,”
Rollo replied, returning the handshake.
Jarple moved to the doorway, then said: “Watch that Raddy. Him I don’t trust, and I’m frankly uncomfortable
with the thought that he might know our business.”
“I’m uncomfortable too, and intend to watch him very closely,”
Rollo answered, then they parted.
5
With Raddy working twelve and fourteen hour days, the
preparations for the first service and open house progressed apace. On Saturday Raddy decided to utilize the
church’s small kitchen to bake round loaves of fresh bread for his contribution
to the pot luck dinner. While he was
occupied with that, Rollo moved a table to the back corner of the nave. Then he brought in a box containing three
relics, which he arranged for display.
The first relic was a cross shaped stone about the
size of a large hand. A placard
explained the object and its history. ‘A
particularly nasty Roman named Cucullus used this same rock for years in the
second century to stone Christians. He
lived near the place where they brought the Christians for execution, and was
usually one of the first to arrive for the stonings. Cucullus always brought his own rock, this
rock, and always retrieved it after the executions and brought it back home
with him. He preferred it because it fit
perfectly in his palm, enabling him to hurl it with maximum force. Ironically, the rock was used against
Cucullus by his own wife when he was ultimately stoned for his late life
conversion. Following Cucullus’
execution a member of a wealthy Roman family recognized his notorious rock and
took it home. The same aristocrat
subsequently wrote down the story of Cucullus and displayed the rock in family
home for centuries.’
The second relic was an opaque, green glass honey pot
the size of a fist, intricately designed and well weathered by time. The placard beside it read: ‘This ancient honey pot dates to the second
century BC, and was recovered from an excavation at Gehenna, or, the Valley of
Hinnom, outside the southwest wall of Jerusalem. The ancient Israelites living in Jerusalem used
the valley for their refuse, and it was also the accursed place where the evil
Israelites sacrificed their children by fire to the pagan gods Ba’al and
Moloch. Accordingly it is the
destination of wicked souls in Christian, Jewish and Islamic scripture.’
The third was a
reproduction of an ancient urn, and contained actual ashes. The placard read: ‘This urn contains ashes from the forty
martyrs at Sebaste (modern day Turkey) who died together in 320 AD. The forty martyrs were Roman soldiers who had
openly confessed Jesus Christ and were immediately condemned by the local
prefect. He sentenced them to be frozen
to death by exposing them naked overnight on a frozen pond, and set a guard
over them. During the night one of the
confessors snuck off to seek the warm baths reputed to be near the pond. At that moment one of the guards witnessed a
preternatural brilliance and cast off his garments, proclaimed himself a
Christian and joined the other thirty nine on the ice, maintaining their number
a perfect forty. In the morning their
stiff bodies, some still seeming half alive, were burned. Some of their ashes were scattered on the
river and some were gathered by locals and kept for relics which were
distributed throughout numerous cities.
They are still widely venerated and many churches, from Cappadocia to
Kiev, have been erected in honor of the forty martyrs at Sebaste.’
Beside the urn was a medieval style parchment reproduction
of portrait miniatures of the forty men’s faces, with their names
underneath: Hesychius, Meliton,
Heraclius, Smaragdus, Domnus, Eunoicus, Valens, Vivianus, Claudius, Priscus, Theodulus,
Euthychius, John, Xantheas, Helianus, Sisinius, Cyrion, Angius, Aetius,
Flavius, Acacius, Ecditius, Lysimachus, Alexander, Elias, Candidus, Theophilus,
Aglaius, Dometian, Gaius, Gorgonius, Leontius, Athanasius, Cyril, Sacerdon,
Nicholas, Valaerius, Philoctimon, Severian, and Chudion.
On Sunday morning Rollo arrived early to nervously
await the turnout. He feared few or no
people showing, but at ten o’clock the church began to fill up nicely with
several dozen, most of whom Rollo had already met during the week.
He sermonized about the story of Abraham receiving the
three men of the Lord on the plain of Mamre, whom he honored first with water
and bread, then with meat and hospitality.
The reference was made as a way of expressing Rollo’s prayerful hope
that the town would receive him as warmly as Abraham did the men of God. He intentionally kept the service mercifully
brief—which was his wont anyway—as not to alienate anyone at the outset, so
after Raddy and another man passed the collection plates, and a short
benediction, Rollo ended by encouraging everyone to introduce themselves to
each other in fellowship before descending and doing so himself.
Following fellowship the congregation moved into the
large common room at the back of the church. Raddy had arranged several tables for the
potluck buffet, which he tended while greeting folks as they wandered over to
graze. Rollo reminded himself to keep an
ever present smile on his lips, then began introducing himself to the
congregants he hadn’t yet met. While
thus engaged a woman stepped forward and introduced herself. “I’d like to welcome you to town. My name is Margaret Bamberg, but I go by
Peggy.”
“Margaret is such a lovely name,” he suavely replied.
“Why thank you,” she answered, clearly flattered. “As you like.”
She was in her sixties and well preserved, having
gracefully resigned her blonde hair and fair skin to the years. “I love the relics,” she remarked. “Are they real?”
“Why of course,” he answered. “I have provenance and certificates of
authenticity; that stuff just doesn’t display well, so I have it in
safekeeping.”
“I see,” she said.
Along with the rest of the congregation she was curious, and she
asked: “Where did you acquire them?”
“In my twenties and thirties I wandered churches in
Europe and Africa, teaching and preaching and studying the word,” he
explained. “I spent time in many cities
and towns, and made friends with many locals and fellow pastors in those
churches along the way. I greatly enjoy
collecting the relics myself, and have found that they serve the additional
purpose of driving attendance, by drawing curious eyes into the church that
might not otherwise come. Those three
are just the beginning—I acquired a veritable collection in my travels, and now
that I have a place to house them, my friends who’ve been holding them are
going to start sending them to me from the four corners of the world. Enough about me and my antiques….what do you
do with yourself?” Rollo asked.
“That’s so interesting, I would love to hear more,”
she responded. “I’m a widow and my
children are grown and gone, and my husband left me well provided for, so I
live in a lovely place where I spend a lot of time gardening and studying the
Bible and listening to the birds.”
“And what did your husband do?”
“He was a very successful businessman,” she
explained. “He imported Italian
furniture. He died of a heart attack a
few years ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Rollo consoled.
“Thank you.
I’ve actually been thinking of paying you a visit at the bank,” she
continued. “I want to seed several small
trust funds for my grandchildren.”
Rollo’s eyes could not conceal perking. “Please do…the bank would be happy to help
you in any way possible.”
“And while I’m there we could discuss another banking
matter,” she added.
His eyes widened a second time. “But of course,” he encouraged.
“I want to start a charitable foundation, and now is
the time. I need something more to
devote my days to.”
“For charity, I put both my church and my bank at your
disposal,” Rollo said.
“Aren’t you kind,” she replied.
“Why don’t you think it over, call me during the week
with exact figures, and I’ll prepare some paperwork. When I have that ready you can come by the
bank or I can bring it by your home.
I’ve never met a gardener who didn’t like to show off her flowers.”
“Having you over for tea would be lovely; I’ll look
forward to it,” Margaret warmly answered.
Officer Jarple and his wife were hovering nearby, so Margaret politely
said goodbye and went to mingle and the Jarples stepped forward. Captain Jarple’s wife Sylvia extended her
hand into Rollo’s and said: “I’ve been
looking forward to this. I always love
meeting new men and women of God.”
“And I’ve already heard about you, and your interest
in my humble church, which is most welcome and for which I am most thankful.”
“I’m trying to be as welcoming as Abraham, as your
wonderful words today reminded, and I hope your reception to town has thus far
been a warm one,” Sylvia said.
“Indeed it has surpassed my greatest hope,” Rollo
replied. He and her husband acknowledged
each other and shook hands.
“Well, I pray you and your church feed on God’s
blessings for years to come, and I will be happy to water its roots by joining
your congregation,” Sylvia said. “We
live just a block away, a three minute walk beyond the trees behind the
church. I love the relics, so
fascinating!”
“I’m very honored and look forward to getting to know
you,” Rollo replied with affected humility.
Then he smiled and added: “The relics are a hobby of mine….”
Rollo went on to explain everything again as he just
had to Margaret, then Jarple said to his wife: “Why don’t you go fix us a
couple of plates? I’ll be right
over.” She smiled and went to the
buffet, and when she was out of earshot, Jarple said to Rollo: “Do you think Raddy overheard us the other
day? I can’t stop wondering. If he were to say anything it could damage us
both irreparably.”
“I asked him on Friday how long he was standing in the
doorway before we noticed him when he came back for the bolt and he said, ‘not
long, just a few moments.’”
“A few moments?” Jarple repeated. “A few moments could be long enough to know
everything.”
“I should never have asked him, and regret it,” Rollo
admitted. “If he didn’t suspect
something was up before, by now I’m sure he does. I would have been smarter to stay dumb, but I
couldn’t help myself; I was so curious to know if he overheard us that before I
could think I had already opened my mouth.
I’m getting more paranoid by the hour that the longer I let him stay
here the more the residency law strengthens as his ally.”
“I don’t like it,” Jarple observed, looking over at
Raddy where he stood at the buffet table.
“We need to keep a close on eye him.”
“Believe me, I already am,” Rollo answered.
Raddy had been around St. Petersburg much of his life;
he recognized many of the faces there, and likewise they knew him. And while many held him in low opinion, they
kept it within themselves out of respect for the house of God they were
in. Raddy, however, was radiant, and
enjoying himself more than he had since he could remember. He greeted newcomers, received dishes of food
and kept the plates and forks stocked while bussing the room and constantly
smiling and saying hello to everyone. He
had just noticed Rollo staring at him again when he heard a soft voice
say: “Radford, is that you?”
He turned, and cried:
“Juanita!”
They fell into each others’ arms; then stepped back,
and holding hands, beheld one another.
Her hair was shiny jet and luscious; her hazel eyes penetrating; her
olive skin a delicacy. She was the
Latina beauty who had been Raddy’s high school sweetheart almost two decades
before.
“I was wondering and hoping I might see you again,”
she said.
“And I want to kiss you again,” he fumbled to reply,
at which both blushed. “Where have you
been?”
“I went to university in California, then got married
and got a job,” she replied. “There’s
not much to tell, really. My marriage
ended last year, childless, and my mother is not well, so I have returned
home. And you? What have you done in
fifteen years since high school?”
“I’ve had some good times and I’ve been laid low,” he
answered. “Lately life has started
looking up, and in the last two minutes has brightened considerably.”
“Always so kind with your words,” she observed.
“This past week I worked to get this church ready to
open today,” he said. “We painted and
cleaned and did repairs.”
“Nice work, much of it looks new,” she replied. She gazed about, then remarked: “I need to find work myself. I’m looking for a job that will allow me to
continue to tend my mother.”
Rollo reared himself into the conversation, saying to
Raddy: “And who is your lovely friend?”
Raddy reluctantly presented her to Rollo and
explained: “This is Juanita. She’s from
St. Petersburg too. We went to school
together.”
Raddy smiled at her while Rollo warmly shook her hand. “My pleasure, and welcome,” Rollo said. “Did I overhear that you’re looking for a job?”
“You did,” she answered. “I recently returned home to care for my
mother, and try as we do, we can’t live on love.”
Rollo and Raddy’s eyes met: Raddy’s flared with
jealousy while Rollo’s clearly admired Juanita’s beauty, to whom he quickly
turned them back.
“If you’d consider working in a bank, we need someone
new soon,” Rollo said to Juanita. “Based
on the success of today’s service and open house, business is going to
bustle. It’s Neighborhood Bank on State
street. Stop by, even tomorrow, if you
think you’re interested.”
“I would be,” she replied, “I will, and thank
you. I worked part time as a teller
while in college, so I bring some experience.”
Raddy bristled with envy; Rollo perceived it and
said: “I look forward to it if you do,
and it was a pleasure meeting you.”
Rollo walked away, to Raddy’s great relief.
“He seems like a nice man,” Juanita said.
“That’s one of his faces,” Raddy softly muttered,
almost contemptuously.
“I can’t tell you how wonderful it is to see you
again,” Juanita said, melting him with the warmth of her eyes. “I’ve thought about you often over the
years.” She withdrew a card from her
purse, wrote her phone number on it and handed it to him. “It’s been a long morning and I need to get
home, but I’d like you to call me. I’d
like to see you and get to know you again.”
“He looked down at the card, then back up at her and
replied: “Memorized. You are more beautiful than ever and I can’t
wait to see you again. I promise to call
very soon.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” she replied with a sweet
smile. She waved goodbye with her
fingertips and left the church.