paralyzed man watched the boy dart across the dirt road and disappear into the corn, then leaned to one side and spat on the porch.
THEIR ENCOUNTER WITH THE PARALYZED
man had cast a pall over the afternoon. They’d had enough trouble to last them a good long time and didn’t want any more.
Grace and Kyle made their way through the corn until they got to the barbed wire fence and the cow pasture. Careful to avoid the sharp rusty barbs, Kyle pulled up on the bottom strand to create a gap for Grace to wiggle through on her stomach. Then she held it up for him. Once through, Kyle scanned around for Buddy the bull and spotted him dozing in the shade on the far side. The pasture and the pond were west of the fire, so everything here was unchanged.
By the time they got to the green pond, Kyle was feeling optimistic again. He felt that maybe they were forgiven for setting that fire. That maybe God had given them a warning to start acting right or He would send bad things their way. And it struck Kyle that God was like Mercurochrome, in that He could burn you and hurt you like you’d never been hurt before. But it was for your own good. God’s burning stained you and cleaned you out so that you wouldn’t be infected by the evil you had wallowed in. But if you kept your soul clean and didn’t scrape it and tear it with every bad thing you did, then the Mercurochrome—God’s presence—still left its mark on you, but it didn’t hurt. It cooled you and felt good.
It was shady and cool at the green pond. The wind played through the hanging branches of the massive weeping willow trees that shielded the pond like a living curtain.
Kyle was ready to get back to the treasure hunt game. He was excited again. He saw the red and white fishing bobber that surely was meant for him, listing in the soupy green pond water. This was going to be the prize, the end of the game.
The pond was small, only about thirty feet across. Which meant that the bobber and whatever treasure that dangled beneath the surface was about fifteen feet from his grasp. The green pond was a special place for them. Jason and Wade knew about it of course, but they seldom came here. It was from here that Grace and Kyle hatched their plans or just sat on the red clay banks throwing rocks into the water. Kyle thought about how he was going to get the floating prize without actually wading into the viscous green water. While the pond was small in circumference, it appeared to be pretty deep. It was not the kind of water you would want to wade into.
He searched about, his mind scrambling for ideas. He thought about finding something that he could maybe use to float himself out there to grab hold of the bobber, but Kyle couldn’t imagine what he could use to do that. Then he thought about fishing it out. All he would need would be a stick or a limb long enough to hook the string under the bobber, but he couldn’t find one long enough. Kyle knew that if he crossed to the far side of the pasture and into the wood lot, he could find one easy, but that would put Kyle in the bull’s line of sight, and he had already had all the adventure he cared for in a single day.
All of the other woods where he might find a good limb were burned to the ground. He looked around, casting about for the obvious, when it hit him. The weeping willows. They were old trees, towering and sturdy. The pendulous branches cascaded downward, encircling the green pond, some dragging the ground. He spotted a good-size branch that extended outward, tapered, and hung down vine-like close to the center of the pond. With his eyes, he traced the branch back to where it sprouted from one of the main limbs and climbed up the tree to reach it. Kyle grabbed hold of the branch and pulled it down with him, bending and pulling it to the bank. He started yanking on it, climbing up it and bouncing—testing it. The branch held him easily and gave no signs of weakness. He looked at Grace to make sure that she
THEIR ENCOUNTER WITH THE PARALYZED
man had cast a pall over the afternoon. They’d had enough trouble to last them a good long time and didn’t want any more.
Grace and Kyle made their way through the corn until they got to the barbed wire fence and the cow pasture. Careful to avoid the sharp rusty barbs, Kyle pulled up on the bottom strand to create a gap for Grace to wiggle through on her stomach. Then she held it up for him. Once through, Kyle scanned around for Buddy the bull and spotted him dozing in the shade on the far side. The pasture and the pond were west of the fire, so everything here was unchanged.
By the time they got to the green pond, Kyle was feeling optimistic again. He felt that maybe they were forgiven for setting that fire. That maybe God had given them a warning to start acting right or He would send bad things their way. And it struck Kyle that God was like Mercurochrome, in that He could burn you and hurt you like you’d never been hurt before. But it was for your own good. God’s burning stained you and cleaned you out so that you wouldn’t be infected by the evil you had wallowed in. But if you kept your soul clean and didn’t scrape it and tear it with every bad thing you did, then the Mercurochrome—God’s presence—still left its mark on you, but it didn’t hurt. It cooled you and felt good.
It was shady and cool at the green pond. The wind played through the hanging branches of the massive weeping willow trees that shielded the pond like a living curtain.
Kyle was ready to get back to the treasure hunt game. He was excited again. He saw the red and white fishing bobber that surely was meant for him, listing in the soupy green pond water. This was going to be the prize, the end of the game.
The pond was small, only about thirty feet across. Which meant that the bobber and whatever treasure that dangled beneath the surface was about fifteen feet from his grasp. The green pond was a special place for them. Jason and Wade knew about it of course, but they seldom came here. It was from here that Grace and Kyle hatched their plans or just sat on the red clay banks throwing rocks into the water. Kyle thought about how he was going to get the floating prize without actually wading into the viscous green water. While the pond was small in circumference, it appeared to be pretty deep. It was not the kind of water you would want to wade into.
He searched about, his mind scrambling for ideas. He thought about finding something that he could maybe use to float himself out there to grab hold of the bobber, but Kyle couldn’t imagine what he could use to do that. Then he thought about fishing it out. All he would need would be a stick or a limb long enough to hook the string under the bobber, but he couldn’t find one long enough. Kyle knew that if he crossed to the far side of the pasture and into the wood lot, he could find one easy, but that would put Kyle in the bull’s line of sight, and he had already had all the adventure he cared for in a single day.
All of the other woods where he might find a good limb were burned to the ground. He looked around, casting about for the obvious, when it hit him. The weeping willows. They were old trees, towering and sturdy. The pendulous branches cascaded downward, encircling the green pond, some dragging the ground. He spotted a good-size branch that extended outward, tapered, and hung down vine-like close to the center of the pond. With his eyes, he traced the branch back to where it sprouted from one of the main limbs and climbed up the tree to reach it. Kyle grabbed hold of the branch and pulled it down with him, bending and pulling it to the bank. He started yanking on it, climbing up it and bouncing—testing it. The branch held him easily and gave no signs of weakness. He looked at Grace to make sure that she
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