Rise of the Locusts

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Rise of the Locusts Page 17

by Mark Goodwin


  “I’ve known a few people like that.” Kate offered the pistol to the old man.

  “How about your house? I see you packin’ that pistol around like you’re Annie Oakley, but do your folks have anything else?”

  “We have a shotgun, a deer rifle, and three pistols.”

  “You go ahead and hang on to that .38. I’ll keep watch of these other two, if you don’t mind.”

  “Yeah, sure.” Kate tucked the .38 in her waistband. “Did you see any holsters in the closet?”

  Mr. Pritchard took another look. “Nope. But look here what I found. A New King James Bible. It ain’t no Authorized Version but I reckon it’ll do for someone that don’t go to church ‘cept Christmas and Easter. I doubt Edith wants her travelin’ companions to have one of these neither. Seems folk who don’t like guns usually ain’t got no time for the Good Book. Them devils at FEMA might not let ‘em bring it in anyhow. How ‘bout you hang on to that, too?”

  She took the Bible. “Thanks. Are we finished? I’d like to get back home.” Kate had done her share of burglarizing for the evening and wanted to get away from the crime scene.

  “I reckon. Grab one of them boxes of apple butter and the empty jars. I’ll haul the rest.” Mr. Pritchard meticulously collected the ammo and guns and arranged them in such a way as to be able to carry them up the hill.

  CHAPTER 24

  And it shall come to pass, that whosoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be delivered: for in mount Zion and in Jerusalem shall be deliverance, as the Lord hath said, and in the remnant whom the Lord shall call.

  Joel 2:32

  On Sunday morning, Kate awoke to the sound of someone banging on a metal pan. The sound was not only annoying and hyper-obnoxious, but it scared her half to death. She sprung from her bed and grabbed the shotgun. Her hands shook and her pulse throbbed. She fought to put her jeans on with one hand while she held the gun with the other. Once they were on, she shuffled down the stairs with the barrel of the gun pointed at the floor. “What’s going on?”

  Boyd stood outside his bedroom door assessing the threat. “I think it’s your geriatric boyfriend beating on a cook pot with a wooden spoon. He’s hollering something about church.”

  The explanation made no sense to Kate so she proceeded to the front door. Carefully she peeked outside.

  Terry was walking toward Harold Pritchard with his hands up. The old man ceased from banging on the pot and Kate could hear the conversation.

  “We’s fixin’ to have church. I’ve got no bell, and I’ve got no steeple. Figured this’d be the best way to let folk know it’s time to worship.”

  Terry dropped his hands. “I’m sure everyone on the mountain has heard the alarm. But I’m afraid you’ll drive them off rather than attract them to your service. I’m sure you’ve heard the old saying you catch more flies with honey.”

  Pritchard looked over Terry’s shoulder at the gaggle of neighbors coming up the hill. “Yep, I’ve heard it. But the fool who made it up ain’t never been no dairy farmer. Ain’t nothin’ in the world attracts flies like cow manure.”

  Kate was wide awake and while she was still tired having slept only five hours, she was determined to go to Mr. Pritchard’s church service…or whatever it was.

  Kate hustled back upstairs, quickly washed her face, and put on a clean shirt. She grabbed the Bible which the old man had entrusted to her to keep until the Petersons’ return.

  Kate knocked on Vicky’s door, which was across the hall from hers.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, it’s Aunt Kate. Mr. Pritchard is having church. Do you want to come?”

  “Yeah, there’s nothing else to do.” Vicky opened her door and came out wearing a ball cap and a comfortable sweater. She accompanied Kate to the door and stopped in her tracks. She put her hand over her mouth. “I’ve got to go change, fix my hair!”

  Kate looked down the gravel drive to see the family from the bottom of the hill walking past to Mr. Pritchard’s. Their very-good-looking son appeared to be about sixteen. She pressed her lips together. “Is that who Sam was talking about at the table yesterday evening?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just not going to church with a ball cap on, even if it’s in some old man’s backyard.” Vicky raced up the stairs.

  “Okay, I’ll see you over there.” Kate laughed.

  She stopped by Boyd’s room. “Hey, you guys going?”

  “It ain’t Christmas, and it ain’t Easter. I’m not going to church.” Boyd looked perturbed by the request and shut his door.

  “Just thought I’d ask.” Kate headed out the door.

  “Wait for us,” Terry called out. Sam followed close behind him.

  “Is that Dad’s old Bible?” Terry asked when he caught up with her.

  Kate glanced down at the book, unsure how ready she was to explain what she’d gotten into the prior evening with the self-appointed preacher next door. “Um, no. Mr. Pritchard lent it to me.”

  “Oh, that was kind of him.”

  “Yeah.” She wanted to explain that it was no skin off his hide, but didn’t.

  When they arrived at their next-door neighbor’s backyard, Kate saw twenty or so, thick, round logs standing up on their ends, like stools arranged around the trunk of a towering oak tree. They’d come from Mr. Pritchard’s pile of firewood, which still needed to be split. Each one standing at roughly two feet tall, and more or less level, they seemed to have been divinely appointed for their makeshift purpose as church seating. “Wow. Look at that. The logs almost look planned. It actually looks like a chapel.”

  Sam added, “And most of the seats are already taken. We better hurry and claim our spots.”

  “Save a seat for you sister,” Kate said to Sam, who rushed off ahead.

  In one of the rare moments she shared alone with Terry, she hugged him as they walked. “How are you holding up?”

  His eyes were pained. “I’m trying to be strong…for the kids. But I think I could use a trip to church.”

  “Well, I think you’re doing a bang-up job. And I guess times being what they are, we could all use a trip to church.”

  Mr. Pritchard hurriedly handed out hand-written song sheets. “I’ve only had time to make up six of these, so some of you’ns is gonna have to share.”

  Kate smiled at the thoughtfulness of the gesture and would make a point of offering to type and print some for the following week. All of the stumps were filled with a few people sitting in the newly fallen leaves beneath the giant oak. She whispered to Terry, “This must be roughly half of the remaining residents in Apple Blossom Acres.”

  Terry looked around. “Yeah. If nothing else, it will be a good opportunity to meet the neighbors.”

  Kate looked back at Vicky who’d performed a miraculous five-minute makeover and was headed their way. “I think your daughter would second that opinion.”

  Terry seemed to miss the joke but waved at Vicky and signaled to her saved seat.

  Pritchard, whose voice would win no awards in a competition, led the group in three traditional hymns. Afterward, he offered a short prayer, then opened a large, well-worn, leather-bound, Bible. He spoke from behind yet another section of a log. This one was roughly two feet in diameter and stood four feet tall. Unlike the others, it had a pitch on the top, which made it the perfect podium.

  Pritchard looked out at his little congregation. “After 9/11 lots of folks made their way to church who hadn’t been in quite a spell. I reckon some of you ain’t been in some time. Others of you might go ever week. Maybe you’re like me and can’t get to your regular place of worship; bein’s how there ain’t much gas left.

  “Anyhow, I welcome you all in the name of the Lord.” He gave an abbreviated nod, similar to what country folks give to someone they pass on the road.

  “I ain’t never professed to be no preacher, so if’n any of youns feel led by the Spirit to speak, holler at me after church, and we’ll talk it over. Even more so, I ain’t never been a
ccused of bein’ no choir leader. So I pray, for all our sakes, that one of you’d step forward to handle the music; although I’ll tell you right now that I ain’t got much tolerance for none of that foolishness they play on the Christian radio.” His brows furrowed, then softened.

  “For those of you that ain’t been going to church, you might find what I got to say this morning is a mite odd.”

  He paused and looked around. “Those of you who have been attending regular like, you’re liable to find it downright insufferable. But keep in mind, ever word I speak is coming straight from the Word of God. So if you don’t like it, don’t shoot the messenger. Ain’t my fault if your no-account pastors have been sellin’ you a bill of goods and a false sense of security.”

  Kate tried not to laugh out loud. She found his willingness to offend absolutely amusing, particularly when she wasn’t the only target of his galling oratory.

  The old man cleared his throat and proceeded to read the entire first chapter of Joel. The chapter described in divine poetry, the plague of locusts which the Lord sent to lay waste the land of Israel.

  Pritchard looked up from the text. “It’d be hard to ignore the similarities between the destruction brought about by the locusts here in the Good Book and what we’ve got goin’ on here in this country.

  “Some folk will tell you that all them Books of Prophecy only applied to ancient Israel and ain’t got a thing to do with us today. But I’ll remind them, between Ezekiel, Jeremiah, and Isaiah, just about every known kingdom of the day was prophesied against. Moab, Put, Cush, Babylon, Ethiopia, Assyria, Egypt, Tyre, Arabia, and a heap more that I can’t remember just now.

  “The Books of Prophecy ain’t popular subjects in churches these days, despite the fact that a quarter of the books in the Bible are Books of Prophesy. And when a preacher does veer off the path of popular teachin’, it’s a rare thing that he’d point out the similarities between the sins of the ancient world and those of modern-day America—even more rare that he’d attempt to apply those warnin’s to our country.

  “So here we are. Having ignored the warnin’s of God’s Word, the locusts have done eat up all our money in the bank. And I know what you’re thinkin’, tweren’t God who sent these locusts. It was some good-for-nothin over in Russia or China who’s sent these devils upon us.

  “Well, to that I’ll say, ‘cept the first tablets of the Law passed down to Moses, God didn’t write one word in the Bible with His own hand. He used the hands of forty men, stretched out across millennia. Don’t make it no less His doin’, though.

  “In Isaiah, God declares that He’d use Assyria to judge the northern Kingdom of Israel, and Babylon to judge the south. Don’t make it no less His doin’.

  “And while I could tell you more about the man in the moon than I could about how they came up with these confounded computer viruses, it don’t make a hill of beans who done it. Might a been Russia, China, Kim Jong, or some little feller in his mama’s basement right here in Waynesville; don’t make it no less the Lord’s doin’.

  “In Isaiah, the Good Lord lays out the crimes of Israel. He tells ‘em they’re rebellious, their rulers are corrupt and the companions of thieves, He blames them for killin’ their babies, offering them up in sacrifice to Molech. He says they are filled with eastern ways and have allowed the influence of the surrounding pagan culture to creep into their worship.”

  Pritchard paused for a moment. “Bein’ so close to Halloween, I’ll hold my tongue for now on all the trick-or-treat festivities in just about ever church around here. I reckon pastors can claim ignorance on the pagan influence of Easter eggs and Christmas trees, but it takes less sense than you’d find in the south end of a north-bound mule to figure out that Halloween is of the Devil. And I don’t care how you Christianize it, dressin’ up and trick-or-treatin’ is a celebration of the Devil’s day.

  “But, folks don’t want the little Christian children to miss out on anything, feel like weirdos and all. I reckon it’s a good thing they’s in America. I doubt many of ‘em’d stand up for Jesus in North Korea or Saudi Arabia if they ain’t willin’ to give up a plastic bucket full of high-fructose corn syrup.”

  He shook his head as if frustrated. “Anyhow, I’m goin’ to get back on topic. In the Revelation, Jesus dictates a letter to the church in Pergamum. He starts out by tellin’ ‘em what a fine job they’ve done in not denying His name. Then He hauls ‘em off behind the woodshed. He speaks of the doctrine of Balaam.

  “I’m sure y’all are quite familiar with the story of Balaam, but as a refresher, he was the prophet in the Book of Numbers. When the children of Israel came upon the land of Moab, ol’ King Balak tried to hire Balaam to put a curse on the children of Israel. Well, Balaam asked the Lord and found that this people stretched out before Moab was the chosen people and could not be cursed. But that ol’ Balak, bein’ the devil that he was, begged Balaam, offerin’ him all the riches his greedy little heart could desire. Balaam knew it weren’t no doin’, but he got to schemin’ and devised a deception with which ol’ Balak could use to lure the children of Israel out from under the protective hand of God. He told Balak that if’n he could get the Moabite women to entice the Israelite men into fornicatin’ with ‘em, them ol’ boys’d be suckers for bowin’ down to the Moabite gods. And sure enough, them boys fell for it, hook, line, and sinker.

  “Besides the fornicatin’, Jesus says in the Revelation that Balaam’s scheme had them ol’ boys eatin’ food sacrificed to idols. He warns the church of Pergamum to repent, else He’d come and fight against them with the Sword of His mouth.

  “Paul talks about eatin’ foods sacrificed to idols in his epistle to the Corinthians. He says that those who do such are partakers in the pagan altars on which that food was sacrificed.

  “I ain’t just talkin’ about eatin’ trick-or-treats, although that might be the most obvious of all the foods sacrificed on a pagan altar that Christians do so readily partake. And I ain’t just talking about Easter eggs, which are pagan symbols of worship to the fertility goddess Ashtar, nor the worship of Tammuz by erectin’ Christmas trees. But I’m also talkin’ about them filthy Hollywood movies and them pornographic TV shows that Christians run to watch, all the while happily enduring the offense as the name of their God is used as a curse word.”

  Pritchard shook his finger at the congregation in an almost-accusatory fashion. “I tell you what, them Muslims’d burn Hollywood to the ground if’n they was to misuse the name of Allah like that.”

  Pritchard stared silently at the small audience for a while. “I could stand here all day and preach against the sins of America; abortion, drunkenness, atheism bein’ taught to our children by the government schools, all this queer business people’s into these days—but don’t none of it make a hill of beans if the church won’t purify herself and turn back to God. Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you.

  “Jeremiah warns of the judgment of God coming upon Israel for her backsliding and idolatry. Ezekiel and Micah issue warnings to the faithless pastors who are full of compromise and complacency and work only for a paycheck.

  “All these sins apply to America, but in the second chapter of Joel, God only makes one plea for the nation of Israel that they might be healed. He says, therefore also now, saith the Lord, turn ye even to me with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning: and rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the Lord your God: for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil. Who knoweth if he will return and repent, and leave a blessing behind him; even a meat offering and a drink offering unto the Lord your God?

  “Blow the trumpet in Zion, sanctify a fast, call a solemn assembly: gather the people, sanctify the congregation, assemble the elders, gather the children, and those that suck the breasts: let the bridegroom go forth of his chamber, and the bride out of her cl
oset. Let the priests, the ministers of the Lord, weep between the porch and the altar, and let them say, Spare thy people, O Lord, and give not thine heritage to reproach, that the heathen should rule over them: wherefore should they say among the people, Where is their God? Then will the Lord be jealous for his land, and pity his people. Yea, the Lord will answer and say unto his people, Behold, I will send you corn, and wine, and oil, and ye shall be satisfied therewith: and I will no more make you a reproach among the heathen.

  “This right here, comin’ together to worship Him with our whole hearts. If you do that, the rest takes care of itself. The Lord Jesus said all the law hangs on two little ol’ commandments. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, mind, and soul. Then, love your neighbor as yourself.

  “If you do that, you’ll be covered. But if you don’t, it don’t matter that you cut out your drinkin’. You’ll just replace it with fornicatin’. You’ll cut out your gamblin’ only to take to adultery.

  “If you love God with your whole heart, you’ll want to come to church, read your Bible, and you won’t want to do those things which’ll break His heart.”

  “I’m goin’ to invite any of you who wants to come up here and dedicate your life to lovin’ the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit with your whole heart. Maybe you said the magic prayer once long ago, but you didn’t have no commitment. Come on up here and do it right.

  “I ain’t sayin’ there’s nothin’ wrong with goin’ up front and gettin’ saved. But it’s akin to gettin’ hitched. If’n you was to run down the aisle and say ‘I do’ to some feller or gal, that’s the first step in getting married. But if you didn’t never go on no honeymoon, or move in together, nor see each other ‘cept on Christmas and Easter, I think a lot of folk would question whether or not you was ever hitched in the first place.”

 

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