I don’t see Rick anywhere as I walk up to Pastor Jeremiah, and it’s a welcome distraction from these feelings floating around inside me. I just adore him. He’s so much fun. The man has to be past eighty, silver-white hair, wrinkles everywhere, hunched shoulders, but he’s still sharp as a tack and a ton of fun. Doesn’t take himself too seriously like most church leaders. In fact, he may be the most playful pastor I’ve ever known. Truth be told, I might’ve moved back to Dallas a long time ago if it weren’t for him and this church. I love it here.
“Are the deposits ready?” I smile as I walk up to the pew.
“Women, they even want the Lord’s money.”
I burst into a laugh. “You’ve been hanging out with you know who too long.” I fake-scold him with my hands on my hips, barely able to control my grin.
A throat clears from across the room in the shadows. I glance over and see Rick smiling right at me, letting me know he’s here and he knows I’m referring to him. I shoot a glare back at him to let him know he’s not off the hook for this morning. Not to mention, Rick is like a puppy. If I give him any attention, I wear him as a shadow everywhere I go, it just gets worse.
“Like Jesus, I’m only interested in truth.” Jeremiah smiles and hands me the deposit bag with the cash.
I shove it down in my purse. “Did you write down how much it was?”
Jeremiah stares at me like I have three heads.
I sigh. “Never mind, I’ll make sure it’s all accounted for in the software when I do the bookkeeping.” I’m so glad I got them on a digital system to let people transfer tithes electronically, to reduce the amounts of bills. These deposits were thousands of dollars in checks and cash each week, and now it’s only a few hundred. “I’ll drop it at the bank in the morning. You need anything else before I head out of here?”
“I think we’re good. Thanks, Mary.”
I give him a little nod. “No problem. Happy to help.”
Rick’s still pretending to clean some of the stained-glass windows on the wall, but I can see him watching me from the corner of his eye.
Ugh! He’s going to try and talk to me. I don’t want to talk to Rick right now. I was almost in a good mood again, then I saw his fake smile he always wears around me, with his fake Bible knowledge he memorizes.
Gah, I’m the worst. I shouldn’t judge him. I should be happy he’s making an effort, reading the Bible. Why does he get under my skin so bad? And why do I enable it so much? It’s because I’m too nice. People always say I’m too nice, like it’s a bad thing. I don’t get it. But now I’m starting to understand a little better. Sometimes you have to assert yourself, and I’m slowly learning that lesson.
I lean over to Jeremiah. “Run interference for me, so I can sneak out of here?”
His eyes light up and he turns his head. “Rick, can you come here? Need some help with something.”
I whisper, “I owe you one,” and bolt up the aisle as Rick heads at the wrong angle to go see what Jeremiah wants.
I can see the frustration on his face out of the corner of my eye as I power-walk toward the exit. Rick doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to leave Jeremiah hanging, and he doesn’t want to sprint to cut me off and make his intentions clear. Plus, you can’t just ignore an eighty-year-old man who asks a favor. It makes you a jerk, and even Rick has some standards.
I think.
I can’t believe it. As I close the distance to the door, I might just make it out unscathed and in a good mood.
I walk out into the fresh, downtown Chicago air, and head up the sidewalk to my car. Skyscrapers float by overhead as I round a corner and turn up the block. There’s a homeless man there, panhandling for change. Weird. I’ve never seen him before, and I usually know everyone. I always talk to them, invite them to church, see if they need anything, try to give them some resources to shelters around if they want a bed to sleep in.
I stop in front of the man and take out my wallet.
“Thank you so much, ma’am. Lost my job. Hard times.”
I smile. “No problem. I only have a few dollars, but I’ll be back by on Sunday if you’re still going to be here. If you need a place to stay—”
He cuts me off. “Doubtful, I’m just waiting to get a bed up the road. They’re full right now.”
I fumble around for a second. Where’s my wallet? Why do I have so much stuff in my purse? I rifle around for another second.
“How about you give me that too?”
“I’m sorry?” I turn my head, and my eyes widen.
He’s up on his feet and has a knife out, glancing around to make sure we’re alone, and he’s staring right at the money bag I took from Pastor Jeremiah. It has the name of the church’s bank right across the front of it, a huge sign that says, “I have money in here.”
Fear rips through my body, and then it just morphs into rage. I’ve never felt anything like this before. Maybe it’s just adrenaline, maybe it’s been my entire day and how frustrated I’ve been.
It’s only a couple hundred dollars. It’s so stupid. This man has a knife pulled out. My life is worth more than that. Pastor Jeremiah would tell me to hand it over and run, no question about it. He wouldn’t care at all.
“Hurry up.”
I shake my head and grip my purse so hard the whites of my knuckles show, and I take a step back from him, but I don’t run. “No.”
His eyes go wide this time, like he can’t believe what I just said to him. “No?”
“You heard me. If you want more money, ask politely.” Who are you right now, Mary? Just hand him the stinking money.
I think he must be used to people just giving whatever he asks for when he pulls that knife, because he just stares at me in disbelief.
“This money is for the church. It’s God’s money. Do you want to make Him mad at you? If you need help, all you have to do is ask politely and I will give you anything I can.”
I don’t know if I’ve ever been this scared and angry at the same time.
His eyes fall to the ground, and a tear rolls down his cheek. I must be out of my mind. How lucky am I that this man seems to have a conscience in there?
I finally gather my wits and take all the cash from my wallet. “Here, it’s really all I have on me. I promise. You can have it all, and there’s no need for the knife. So, can you please just put it away? It’s scaring me.”
He stands there, just staring at me. “I-I’m s-sorr…”
A rush of energy comes out of nowhere. The man who was standing in front of me disappears in a blur when another body collides with him. The knife clatters across the sidewalk.
I shriek because what else do you do in this situation? It all happens in slow motion, like a dream, and I can’t move—an out-of-body experience.
At some point in the chaos, I realize it’s Rick and he’s pounding this guy’s face like a sledgehammer, straight into the ground.
I’m not sure what I yell, and what is said, but I grab Rick and try to pull him off the guy, because I’m afraid he might be dead. Finally, I get hold of him and spin him around. I’ve never seen him look like this before. He’s normally so laid back, nonchalant, like the whole world is just a joke.