Rescue

“Have you accepted Jesus as your personal savior.”

In front of their church should have been a good place to handout leaflets. People were always around, even making special trips to visit the gourmet coffee shop across the street. But it was rare anyone showed interest in the Lord who died to save them. Usually, they hurried by with disdainful glances or refused to look at them at all.

When a couple from the coffee shop paused, Beckie reached for a pamphlet. She was careful to use dainty fingers on her glowing risen Christ. The cold sun lit the features of the golden blond woman. She wore a red leather jacket with tassels and shiny gold buttons and looked at Beckie with clear apple‑green eyes. And smiled, maybe curious. Beside her, the man scowled. His leather jacket was the color of coal. His eyes, dark as black coffee, disdainfully ran over Beckie’s bulky fleece. Ignore him. The man’s large hand reached for the blonde’s slender one. Let him have the dust under her feet. The blond woman still smiled. Beckie held the pamphlet. Laughing the woman waved Christ’s image away and slid her fingers across the man’s palm, linking their hands. Many rings decorate her manicured fingers but none look like a wedding band.

Beckie shrunk into her fleece watching them. They were as beautiful as runway models and sauntered off as though touring Paris on holiday. Her fists coiled into her sleeves leave half the pamphlet dangling out in the cold. Always the same. Passersby hurried from one warm building to the next, never wondering why followers loved God so much they shivered and suffered the biting wind. Allowed cold air to gnaw their flesh.

When the happy couple passed the black door of the Crow, Beckie blew a warm breath on her cool fingers. Maybe her prayer had done some good. So horrible, occultists setting up shop next to their Main Street church.

Out of the Crow Emporium two men came laughing. Their scarves and sleek tapered layers were in matching navy and oranges, like a groom might match his bride. On the stairs, they shifted packages back and forth, and randomly touched each other.

Beckie knew she shouldn’t look, that even witnessing immorality could corrode righteousness, but couldn’t draw away her gaze. It was like seeing into a different realm where people preferred dirty water to clean.

A nod and copper curls bounced. Jody used to have curls like that. But he’d hated them and buzz cut his hair an inch from his skull to be rid of them. The face lowered, seeming to look down. Blink maybe. The churchyard where she stood was forty feet from the occult steps so Beckie couldn’t be sure.

Crazy how much he looked like Jody.

The other man had obviously dyed platinum hair gelled into short spikes. The men’s eyes met, and Beckie knew what they were going to do. Jody’s hand fell over the other’s wrists. Their heads bent together. Their lips met.

It couldn’t be Jody. Beckie had grown up with Jody. They’d attended Word of Faith together. When the men started down the occult steps, Beckie looked down at her pamphlet. Oh no. It was crumpled in her fist. She tried smoothing it, but the men crossed to the coffee shop.

Beckie had to do something. She couldn’t let Jody be thrown into a lake of fire.

It was three o’clock. Her prayer partners were packing up. Beckie put her crumpled salvation card with the others.

“See you next week.”

Maybe she should have told about seeing Jody. But hollering never worked.

“Charlotte, can you wait a minute.”

Naturally Charlotte was surprised. Beckie usually only said ‘hello’ ‘good-bye’ ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’

Desperate, she put aside her usual resentment. There was no one else to ask.

“I saw a man who used to be a friend. Who used to be part of this group. In what I could tell was a homosexual relationship.”

Charlotte looked confused.

“I need you to teach me to be sexy so I can cure him.”

Her confusion turned to horror. “I don’t think.”

It was unfair Charlotte was so pretty. Christian boys were supposed to judge women by their virtue, not their beauty, but those at Word of Faith all loved Charlotte.

“I know you mean well, but I mean you can’t use one sin to overcome another. In God’s eyes all sin is bad. None worse than the other.”

Humph. So people said, but Beckie knew gay sex was worse than normal sex. If Jody was having sex with a woman, he could marry her to cancel the sin. A gay road led farther from righteousness.

Beckie tried a different tactic. “I feel as though Jody is man I’m supposed to marry. He’s the husband God chose for me.”

“God told you that?”

Beckie nodded. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She had thought that, maybe, when they studied Bible together. Charlotte couldn’t argue against God.

“I just thought," Beckie coaxed. “I mean you’re so pretty. If you could teach me how to improve my look.”

“I don’t have a problem going shopping with you,” Charlotte answered.

“Weren’t you a stylist before?”

Though looking uneasy, Charlotte nodded.

Skipping church to visit the coffee shop felt sacrilege, but it was for a good cause. And Beckie did bring her Bible. After getting coffee, she sat in a back corner where she wouldn’t be noticed and could see people coming in.

Not used to worrying about showing cleavage or her panties if she bent over, Beckie felt awkward at first. Until noticing every skirt worn was shorter than the knee length one she wore. Every top at least as low as the neckline of her scooped print blouse.

Opening her Bible, she reviewed her highlighted favorite verses.

Charm is deceitful

And Beauty is vain

But a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.

That didn’t fit this occasion.

The afternoon was wasted as neither Jody or his friend showed.

Beckie decided to call Jody’s mother.

“Hello Mrs. Caissie. This is Rebecca Tingley, from Word of Faith. Jody used to go there.”

“Oh Rebecca. Hi. How are you?” She was confused by the call.

“Fine thanks. Is Jody still living with you.”

“He’s not here at the moment,” She answered.

“I was hoping to meet up with him,” Beckie said.

“He’s left Word of Faith.”

“Yes, I know. I saw him last Sunday walking with a man. They looked like a couple.”

“Yes, Jody’s come to some realizations.”

“And what do you think of his realizations.”

“I’m happy that my son is happy.”

“You didn’t want grandchildren.”

“I’m hanging up now.” Jody’s mother did.

Beckie stared at her phone, shocked Jody’s mother cared so little for his welfare.

Another failure, from which nothing was gained. Except learning it likely Jody lived with his mother.

Maybe if she went there in person. Charlotte had helped her fix her hair and she had new clothes.

Beckie called a taxi.

It was starting to get dark when Beckie reached the bungalow. The tree was still there, but bigger than when they’d been teens, and she used to sneak into Jody’s bedroom. A light shone at the front door. It would be sensible to try there. The window was dark. The tree bark looked like it would be rough against her skirt-bare legs and soft smooth bottomed shoes.

Streetlights were coming on. She had to decide. If she was a Christian warrior, she had to fight. Beckie went to the tree. In the chilled air, the tree branches felt familiar but strange too. The window was unlocked, and she knew how to push it open. Unfortunately, she’d lost some grace and landed with a thump.

“What was that?”

Hearing footsteps, Beckie straighten up and smoothed her hair. Setting a hand on her hip, she tried to strike a seductive pose.

The bedroom light flicked on, and two men rushed in. Jody and his friend. They stared at her. It was time to be seductive, but she hadn’t expected both of them.

“Beckie,” Jody was incredulous. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw you. I’m still volunteering at the church and saw you. Both of you last week.”

“And you’re here because." Jody sounded angry.

Beckie forced her fingers to unclench. Needing to look alluring, she wriggled her hips and fluttered her lashes.

Jody looked angrier. The other man amused. “This is a friend of yours?”

“We were friends at Word of Faith,” Beckie answered.

“Yes, Jody told me about you. And you’re welcome, of course. But it would be better if you didn’t come in through our bedroom window.”

Their bedroom window.

Beckie looked at Jody begging him to deny it, but he crossed his arms glaring. “I can’t believe you.”

“What she’s your friend,” the man with the platinum spikes laughed. “Why should you be angry with girl mad enough about you to scrape up her knees coming to your rescue.”

There were trickles of blood running down from bark scrapes.

“I’m not here for you,” Beckie pointed her finger in center of his chest.

“Simon,” the platinum haired man said. “So what are you here for little Miss Beckie. To rescue poor little Jody from mean ole wolf, Simon.”

“The Bible says,” Beckie pointed again and huffed.

“What does the Bible say, darling. Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you. Join us in a glass and you can explain what your Bible says. And maybe we can get you some bandages too.”