c. 2026 Rod Ice
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(1-26)
After having breakfast with Bodean and his family, Parker Redman moved to their living room and a threadbare sofa heaped with mismatched pillows. He swooned a bit from food fatigue. It had been the biggest meal in his limited diet for many years. He felt lazy and content. Around the ramshackle dwelling, grandchildren played video games or chased each other playfully. Angelette cleaned and organized her kitchen with the careful precision of a family protector. His cousin sat in a worn recliner, stained with remnants of brew and snacks, and sagging at the sides. Flanked with sewn-on pouches that held old magazine issues and remote controls for various devices. Through the front windows, a scene of continued snowfall made everyone glad to be safe and warm, inside. Yet as their heads cleared, the biker guest turned to his relative with a more serious tone in effect. He was still curious about how the unusual Bible discovered downhill at his cousin’s garage was acquired.
“I’ve got to ask about something, Bo. While wrenching on my scooter, I flipped through your stash of manuals over the workbench. There’s quite a collection on that shelf. It jogged my memory with brands that haven’t been built in many years. But one book among your collection stood out on its own. I still can’t quite figure out how it belongs with the rest. The thing said ‘Bible for Bikers, NIV New Testament.’ Where did that come from? You’ve never been the churchy type...”
Bodean tilted his head backwards. He seemed to be lost in recollection for a moment. Then, his facial muscles tightened. He leaned forward again, and whispered so that only the two of them could hear.
“Angie’s dad passed that along. He figured it might make me feel better about having a walk of faith. The dude went away last spring. He suffered a bad stroke. My wife still has a broken heart.”
Parker raised his eyebrows.
“Okay, sorry to poke at you. I just had to wonder, because it seemed out of place, you know? None of us in the bloodline have followed those old ways. Believe me, I heard plenty about it from my papa...”
His close relative sat up straight, and nodded.
“Y’all gotta know, I’m still a believer in these mountains. They made our people strong. They guaranteed that only the toughest of our breed would survive. Maybe I haven’t kept up with all of the traditions, but I still respect what they meant. That gift mattered to the old guy. I couldn’t just toss it aside, especially after he went to eternity. So, it’s there in the garage, fer when my knuckles get skinned, and I’m tired and pissed off about shit. I’ll pull it out and read a verse or two. It makes me remember Grandma Pringle and Sunday School. She’d grab me by the ear, and force me to go, even if I didn’t want to be there! It had me boilin’ mad in those days, I was a rowdy kid. She didn’t hesitate to spank my ass! But now, I figure those lessons help keep me on track. I’ve tried to do my best. Even with plenty of mistakes in the damn rearview mirror. It’s part of our identity.”
The lonesome drifter took a deep breath and agreed.
“Yeah, I’d peg it about the same. My dad was righteous in his faith. Which I used to think was too extreme for my tastes. He could make me lose control very quick. I said a lot of things that caused him to droop his head, and pray silently. But he cared about me, and about all of us in the family. And about his parishioners. Nowadays, a lot of folks don’t give two cents about anything...”
Bodean smiled with satisfaction. He was glad for the morning meal that they had shared.
“I know it ain’t easy fer y’all to hang out with us. That’s not yer vibe. So I am grateful to have ya share our company. At least fer a little while. When ya go back down the hill, remember what I said about that copy of the good book. Y’all don’t have to play Mr. Clean, or put on airs. Just pull it out if the nights get heavy. It’ll give ya some comfort. I promise.”
By early afternoon, the weather had turned frightful. Every route through that part of West Virginia was treacherous. Grafton had become a sledding venue, with brave kids and parents outside enjoying the seasonal blast, defiantly. The short trek back to safety and solitude required only a bit of concentration, and enough endurance to slide freely, through the snow.
Parker came to rest with his engineer boots pressed against an outside wall of the crude structure. His rear-end had gone numb. Yet toppling over the hillside proved to be less dangerous than attempting to stay upright. Once he got inside, the propane heater helped him to thaw, and relax. He stripped off his wet outerwear, and sat on the packing crate used before.
The improvised bookshelf seemed to tease his consciousness. Despite a hardy attempt to ignore its contents. He thumbed through manuals and literature, until locating the Bible manuscript. Then let it fall open at a random passage. When he started to read a verse, the words had him trembling and out of breath.
Philippians 4: 4-9 “Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy – think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me – put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.”
His eyes stung with tears, a contrast to the cool, stale air inside the garage. He could hear the voice of his own sire, reaching out from beyond. It gave him a reason to pause, and contemplate the scripture. Then, he closed his eyes.
It was time to sleep, and recuperate.
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