Read Online The Messenger by T. Davis Bunn - Free Book Online Page B

same.
    â€œThen something happens, and all of a sudden there’s this fork in the road. And you think maybe you ought to take the other way, but soon as you do, all these forces are up in arms. You’re no longer part of them, see. You’re joining the opposition.”
    â€œI’m not joining nothing,” Manny denied.
    The guy just looked at him, the gentle gaze now piercing. “You can’t stand in the middle of the road,” he said. “You gotta keep moving, gotta make that choice. And once you choose, you’ve got to commit . You don’t, they’ll keep after you, those forces. When you’re weak or not looking, they’ll drag you back. And once they do, you’re lost.”
    The truth of the guy’s words resounded through Manny like the tolling of a great bell. Like the time had come, and the bell of his life was sounding. Bong, bong, bong , like that, pealing in great thunderous power that caused his whole being to shake until he could scarcely get out the words. “So what do I do?”
    Roskovitz leaned forward and plucked the Bible from the seat pocket in front of him. “Let me tell you what it says in here.”
    ****
    The night had a physical presence, soft and vibrant and full of mystery. Ariel lay in her bed, separated from Clarice by a nightstand and her churning thoughts. So much to take in. So much to learn.
    She recalled scenes she had witnessed and sighed quietly, “I just don’t understand.”
    Clarice shifted in her bed, said sleepily, “Understand what, dear?”
    They were in the upstairs guest room of Reverend Townsend’s home, a nice red-brick house on a quiet side street not far from the church. Outside their window a car passed along the silent street, a dog barked, a nightbird sounded its lonely cry. Inside all was warmth and comfort.
    â€œEverywhere I look,” Ariel said quietly, “I see God’s blessed creation overlaid with, well . . .”
    â€œDarkness,” Clarice said for her. “Darkness and unseen shadows.”
    Ariel looked over, searching the night. “How can you stand it here?”
    â€œYou are truly the strangest girl I have ever come across in all my days. The Spirit moves in you. After what I’ve seen at the bus station and hearing you play the harp, there’s no doubt in my mind about that. But, Lord, your questions.” Clarice chuckled softly. “Where were you raised, on a lofty mountaintop up above the clouds?”
    Ariel struggled with how to reply, settled on, “Yes.”
    â€œWell, it wouldn’t surprise me one bit.” The bed creaked as Clarice raised herself up to a sitting position. “Now listen here. We live in a fallen world. Our job is not to worry over that, because doing so won’t get us anywhere. Our job is to be servants of the Holy One and make little openings for His grace to come through and touch the world around us. And our strongest tool is prayer. We must pray and pray and pray without ceasing, filling ourselves and our surroundings with His gracious love.”
    Ariel listened and heard more than just the woman’s words. She heard the strength, the simple conviction, the years of struggle and giving and living for more than just herself. “You are a very special woman, Clarice.”
    â€œI’m tired is what I am. A woman my age needs her rest. Now you close your eyes and we’ll have us a time of prayer. Then I want you to turn your worries over to the One who can handle them and get some sleep.”
    ****
    â€œSo what brings you down here, anyway?”
    â€œHard to say,” Manny replied weakly, and pushed his breakfast plate to one side. They were seated in the restaurant of a cheap motel not far from the Washington bus station. The night before, Manny had said he needed to go straight there, he needed to find somebody. John Roskovitz had shrugged those massive shoulders and said