Rise Above

LiftedOnTheWingsThe Pascagoula River ran into its banks as if the Gulf of Mexico had oozed narrow fingers inland. At the I-10 rest stop, tourists bound for New Orleans debarked and snapped photos of each other and the muddy water.

A woman complained, “I don’t know why we stopped here; we’ve got toilets.”

“Grab a snack. Look at the bayou.” The driver walked towards the men’s room.

At the far corner of the building, an old man in a heavy coat shouted. “Repent!” He brandished a Bible like a weapon. “How shall you answer when He calls your name?”

He had an audience of one, a dark haired woman in short sleeves and jeans who had not arrived on the bus. A young couple in matching purple shirts ambled across the parking lot. The old man turned his attention to them. “The Lord Jesus…”



“Isn’t his last name Christ.”

“Your impudence will exhaust His divine patience! Recant your words of despite!”

The purple shirts put their heads together and snickered. “Too easy.”

Soon, the driver emerged from the bathroom. He detoured towards the old preacher, who began afresh. “The Lord’s fire burns in my heart!” Now, he clutched the Bible to his chest.

The driver said, “Pipe down.”

A rousing debate ensued, with much heckling from the crowd and thunderous condemnation from their victim. At last, though, the driver moved everyone along. He caught the dark haired woman’s eye and winked as he passed. She nodded acknowledgement.

As the tourists got back on their bus, she approached the old man.

“Come on, Daddy. I think they’ve had enough this week.”

“Yeah. I reckon so. Next week, I’ll try again at that college you teach at.”

“Come on, now. Mama’s had enough of a break, and you need to take your pill.”

The preacher nodded. “I’m coming,” he said. But he turned his face to his chest as he hobbled to her car. “Repent,” he murmured. “Repent, repent, repent.”


About jesterqueen:
Jessie Powell is the Jester Queen. She likes to tell you about her dog, her kids, her fiction, and her blog, but not necessarily in that order.


Rise Above — 21 Comments

  1. Oh Jessie, I don’t do well with the bible thumpers, although I do like the idea of “getting him out of the house”..and giving her mom a break. She’s a good daughter.

    one of my favorite Catholic jokes…(lest I go to hell for it). “I’m a Catholic, I don’t read the Bible, I read the bullentin.”

    (we can still be friends right?)
    Hop over and visit Kir’s recent post Who’s Zoomin Who? {Velvet Verbosity}My Profile

  2. Fanatics of any type repel most normal people-I dislike any one who tries to thrust their “faith” in my face.A piece worth pondering ,though here the “Preacher” is really not himself-those pills -but what a trial for the family.Like the way you wove the tourists in the story seamlessly-well written,as usual:-)
    Hop over and visit Atreyee’s recent post A matter of routineMy Profile

  3. “Isn’t his last name Christ?” <–ha! I don't like Bible thumpers, but I really like the idea that this one isn't quite in his right mind. Wait — are any of them? 😉
    Hop over and visit Bee’s recent post Have NotMy Profile

  4. I love it, well-written as always. I admire your choice of vocabulary – your use of debarked and despite – makes you perk up and take notice. Fascinating scene, well described. Nice work!
    Hop over and visit Steph’s recent post Dusty PerfumeMy Profile

  5. This is a beautifully written piece – your fiction is always so very good…and as it has been said in the comments above, a bit of your own opinion on religion seeping thought? Not that there is anything wrong with that….
    Hop over and visit ilene’s recent post Finding InfinityMy Profile

  6. Pingback: Behind the Rising - Jester Queen

  7. Love the line: Mama’s had enough of a break…
    Poignant and sad. So much going on here in so few words. Great piece of writing,
    as usual. I so enjoy your word choices. Thanks for sharing.

  8. Love the story rumbling along beneath the surface. “Isn’t his last name Christ?” is so perfect here. As usual, a great piece. Thanks for sharing. Happy New Year to you and your family.