The Ride

It was going to be a tough week. Roger had already scribbled down a formidable to-do list on the back of the Agape Baptist Church bulliten. “Eleven projects and the week hasn’t even started yet” he thought. From the pulpit, the preacher was reading aloud from the thirtheenth chapter of 1st Coritnthians: “And if I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.” Roger was still staring at the mountain of tasks that he seemed to be holding on his shoulders. His eyes looked up from the paper prison which he still held firmly in his soft hands. He tried to focus in on what the preacher was saying. “And if I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and if I give my body to be burned, but have not love, it profiteth me nothing.” “Is it just me or is Brother Mike becoming more and more long-winded lately” he whispered to his wife. “Where are we gonna eat” Thelma whispered back to him. “This is just great” Roger thought, I have a business to run, a new car to buy, and now I have to think of a good place to eat because my wife is indecisive. “We’ll go to Ruth’s Chris but we need make it quick because I’m playing a golf scramble at three.”
Roger yawned as the preacher gave the benediction. He folded up his list and put it in the left inside pocket of his sports coat. “I’ll meet you at the steakhouse” Thelma told him as she went out of the back door of the church. Resentfully, Roger watched his wife’s quick departure. Being a Decon in the church, Roger knew that he was expected to not only exit through front door but to greet every visitor he sees on the way. After about a dozen handshakes Roger was greeted by Brother Billy, and old man who walked a quarter mile to church every Sunday and Wednesday from his assisted living community. Billy was accompanied by a young man around twenty years old who, from what Roger could tell by his clothes, was either extremely poor or had a social disorder. “Walter, I want you to meet Roger Perry, one of the pillars of our humble church.” “Glad to have you here” Roger said as the two of them exchanged a handshake. “So where are you from Walter?” Roger asked. “Oh, I live across town with my ma” he responded. “Walter here used to ride his bike all the way across Branson everyday to go to work. That is, until it got stolen” Billy explained. “Say Roger, I hate to ask you this, but do you think you could give Walter a ride home? He walked here this morning but I’m afraid it’s gotten a lot warmer outside since then.” Though his face remained worthily pleasant, Roger’s heart sank when he heard this request. “Of course” he said, “I’d be happy to bring the boy home”.
Even if Roger had wanted to talk on ride across town he would not have been able to get a word in edgewise. The boy was rambling on about how kind it was to give a complete stranger a ride all the way across Branson during tourist season and how he had always wanted to ride in a Mercades Benz and that he couldn’t get over the fact that he was riding in a car with air conditioning vents in the seats. All the while Roger was staring straight ahead into the traffic with a pleasant smile on his face. Inside however, his mind was reeling over the items on the list that was pulsating with his heartbeat. Lets see, Roger thought, Monday, I am going to have to hire a new groundskeeper and get the mower repaired. Tuesday I’ll need to trade in this worn out car and sign another loan for that new S.U.V. model. On Wednesday I…”So have you ever heard it” Walter said. Roger stumbled from his train of thought, “Heard what?” “The one about the pirate in the bar?” said the boy. “No I sure haven’t” replied Roger. “This boy talks more than my thirteen year old daughter” he thought. “I envy this boy and his simple life. He leads a fairly pleasant existence if you ask me, sitting around in blissful ignorance squandering time by telling idiodic jokes.” Roger paused in his thoughts to listen to the tail end of the boys joke as if to justify what he had just been thinking. “…So the bartender says “how do you get a patch over your eye from a speck of dust?” And the pirate says “It was my first day with the hook.” Walter began laughing hysterically at the conclusion of his joke. “Man oh man that’s a good one eh Mr. Roger”. Roger had not laughed in a long time but he could not help but let out a short chuckle because the boys mirth was so great. Sure Roger occasionally laughed when he watched the televison with Thelma at night, but he could not remember the last time he genuinely laughed at something in real life. "Yeah thats a good one Walter" he said.
The silver Mercedes Benz pulled up to a shabby mobile home in the most direputable neighborhood in east Branson. "This is it" Walter said as he pulled a crumpled up ten dollar bill out of the pocket of his jeans. "Its not much but I want you to have this" he said as he handed the bill towards Roger who looked at it as if it were an alien artifact. Roger was beside himself. He had expected to be the one offering the money and persisting until it was finally recieved. "Nonsense Walter, you don't owe me a thing" Roger explained pleasantly. "Please Brother Roger, you have been very generous to me" Walter protested. "Really Walter" Roger said, "thank you for offering but I can't accept that." "Well then let me pray for you" Walter pleaded. Without allowing time for an answer, Walter placed one hand on Roger's burdened shoulder and held the other as high as the small sports car could accomidate. Then, with the most sincere voice Roger had ever heard, Walter began to pray. Why is he praying for me, a senior Decoan in the church Roger asked himself. I should be praying for him, the impoverished vistior to my church. Even while Walter was praying aloud, Roger began praying for the boy and his unfortunate condition. As Roger made his requests and listened to the prayer of Walter the reality of the situation slowly settled on him like a storm moving over parched land. His motives and Walter's clashed and collided violently in his mind. When the dust settled Roger began to weep bitterly.
Walter said "Amen" and opened the door and climbed out of the Mercedes Benz. Then he leaned back through the door with one hand resting on the seat and said, "I love you brother". But Roger could not respond for he was choked with tears. He watched as the young man walked gently up the plywood stairs and in to the dingy trialer. As Roger dried his eyes he noticed the crumpled up ten dollar bill that sat in the middle of the passenger seat. At this Roger smiled the purest smile of his life. Not because the boy had left him money but because he had left him with something infinitly more valuable.