The Bible says, ‘Love thy neighbor as thyself,'” the words of Rev. Chapman’s sermon kept running through my mind as I sat at the table.
“Miles! Miles! Where are you?” the voice of Molly finally got through to me. “You seem a hundred miles away.”
Upon seeing that I was spooning my chili back and forth in the bowl I loaded several spoonfuls into a tortilla stuffing a large bite into my mouth. As I chewed I glanced over at Molly who was keenly watching me.
It seemed like it was several minutes, but I knew only a few seconds passed before I finished swallowing. “Sorry, I was thinkin’ ’bout the preacher’s sermon.” I paused to look at my bowl, then thrust the tortilla into the chili. “Molly, I don’t think I can fit that bill.”
She arched her brows, watching me bring the chili filled tortilla to my mouth. As I bit into it, she asked, “What bill is that, may I ask?”
After I chewed and swallowed, I answered. “Loving my neighbor. I don’t hold much love for Amos Martin right now.”
A small chortle came from her, “At least you didn’t go give him a thump.”
I finished the tortilla, wiping the rest of the chili in the bowl with it. “Good chili,” I said, pushing the bowl away from me on the table.
“Sorry, I didn’t make a pie, but there are some teacakes. Fill your cup and go on out to the porch and I’ll bring you some.”
She didn’t have to tell me twice. I was sitting on one of the two chairs on the porch that looked down towards the river. It was mid-summer, but up here in the trees the air was cool, especially with the slight breeze. She came out with a small plate with some teacakes on it, carrying a cup of coffee in her hand.
“So, tell me more. What are you thinking regarding his sermon?”
I chomped into one of the little, cake-like cookies, chewed before I tried to answer knowing my manners. “In my job, a person gets kinda hardened to what evil folks do to others. I’ve seen some of the worst things that man can do to another,” I paused for a moment before continuing. “Some things are downright atrocious. Makes them sort of unlovable.”
Nibbling on a piece of cookie, she spoke in a low voice, “What doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?”
Taking a sip, I answered, “This from Micah as well, ‘The good man is perished out of the earth: and there is none upright among men: they all lie in wait for blood; they hunt every man his brother with a net.'” Then took another bite.
For some reason she smiled. “Miles, we’ve been over this before. You are called by God to bring men to justice. You don’t revel in their evil deeds and you let the court decide their guilt.” She stopped to take a larger bite, chewed, then started again. “You didn’t go thump Martin, but are waiting, hmmm, somewhat patiently for him to make a mistake.”
She was right. After what he had instigated regarding the beating of Father Damian and the marking up of the church along with scarring of Hawk it took all I could muster to not preach a sermon to him with the barrel of my Greener. I was heading for Martin’s store that next morning but felt I should just pass on by. It was not the time as I didn’t have any evidence except what I thought a dying man said.
“Molly, it’s been over a week. Somethin’ has to give.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone running up the road. “Here comes Jimmy Hopkins,” I muttered, while shaking my head. “He rarely brings me good news. Go get him a couple of teacakes and we’ll see what message he has for me.”
“Marshal, oh Marshal Forrest, come quick! It’s…”