c. 2026 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(2-26)
Secluded at the garage venue in Grafton, Parker Redman could simply wait out the winter season, and then flee on his Harley-Davidson chopper. A blissful event set to occur when roads around the area were clear, and mountain vistas became more inviting. But for those in his small social circle, this intermediate period was not so comfortable. Chattering comments about his public interpretations of holy scripture were growing louder. His testimonials had attracted interest from some on the fringes of society, who were thought to be beyond the grace of a loving creator. Yet for many in the theological mainstream, he represented a heresy founded on bad impulses. His tongue was considered to be too loose. And his view of old traditions, not respectful enough for the liking of those exalted as leaders within local church communities.
Prayer services persisted at the travel plaza where Krista Pearl was employed. Also, in town, at various locations where concerned citizens gathered to ponder issues in an open forum. Then, there were more intrusive visits, at the home of Bodean and Angelette. With the eventual result being that hiding out below his cousin’s abode no longer provided enough anonymity to be safe. He had been toughened up like an old piece of leather, over years spent living by his wits, from the hand-stitched seat of his motorcycle. But for the few relatives and friends who were affected, this situation had aroused too much conflict.
Finally, his part-time companion from the truck-stop offered a suggestion that resonated with value. Her yellow Jeep appeared in the driveway on a morning when sunshine and warmer temperatures had the bounty of snow starting to recede.
“Feesh, I’m gettin’ flak from the boss at work. He don’t like all this controversy. Now, I’ve got a good record so far as my job performance, and attendance. But I could use a breather from hearin’ about yer friendship with me. Don’t take this the wrong way, I’m not kickin’ ya to the curb. Consider it as a kind-hearted suggestion. I’ve got a cousin goin’ to school at WVU, the atmosphere in that part of West Virginia is different. There are folks from all over gettin’ themselves educated. And the church scene is more diverse as well. If y’all really want to jump back into that lane, it’d be a good place to start. Out here, people are too set in their ways. Meanwhile, that scooter of yers will be just fine sittin’ in this shed...”
Parker raised his eyebrows. Her plea felt like a kiss-off. Yet he knew that what she said was undeniably correct.
“You want me to hitchhike to Morgantown?”
His adviser nodded and softened her facial expression.
“Not hike, I’ll give ya a ride. Load up yer duffel bag. Make sure to pack that special book, I reckon it’ll come to good use hangin’ out with the students and faculty. They’ll all have plenty of questions about Papa Podmore, and yer childhood experiences. See, somebody like yerself has... how do they say it... street cred. Real credibility to talk about hard times and the need to be saved from a life of sin. Y’all might be surprised who’ll come to listen!”
The lonely biker hung his head with regret.
“Not that I ever planned it that way, of course...”
Krista threw her arms around his ribcage. She had turned red, and felt tears in her eyes.
“I know yer like a damn dog, always findin’ a way to survive. Y’all have run through blind alleys before. It’ll be good to know ya are somewhere more hospitable. Not that folks here ain’t kind to strangers, but I think ya are too used to livin’ in the fast lane. Why duke it out with these hard-headed, sticks-in-the-mud? Let ‘em have their glory. Go find the treasure yer daddy had in mind. That’ll mean more than anything at the bottom of a whiskey bottle, in this hillside shack. Which I know is where y’all will land if ya don’t break outta this stale routine.”
Her insightful remark chilled him with its authenticity. He could not argue the point.
They left for the university enclave, a few hours later. He always traveled light, so fitting his few possessions into her cramped 4x4 was not a challenge. It teetered along the route toward Clarksburg, and then headed north. Wind gusts were picking up throughout the morning. But bursts of solar warmth made both of them feel invigorated. Upon reaching the student dorms, there were bulletin boards and posters advertising private rooms that still remained available.
Parker took the rucksack in hand, and got out before his benefactor had a chance to express her gratitude for their partnership. She was slightly miffed by his quick exit.
“Dang it Feeshtail, ain’t ya gonna kiss me goodbye, or nothin’? I figured y’all might at least show some gratitude!”
He was stoic at their moment of separation. Though silently, he wished that they might have stayed together, under different circumstances.
“I’m obliged to you, ma’am. But I hope this won’t really be goodbye. Call it a detour, maybe. There’s something in my head, it’s been banging around for weeks and months now. Whatever it is, that vibe won’t leave me alone. I’ve got to follow the lead, wherever it takes me. So, you have my thanks for the ride, and for being a friend when I needed one. I won’t forget that, trust me. I don’t get close with too many people...”
Before she could lodge a complaint, he had disappeared. For the moment, their irregular courtship had ended.
Krista sat on her sofa that night, sipping from a tumbler of sweet tea. The television flashed fleeting images in the background, but she paid little attention. Her home had returned to its quiet state of isolation. An empty nest, vacant and emotionally cold. Not the sort of environment she would have chosen, if given options.
After finishing her beverage, she said a short prayer, before going to sleep.
“Take care of that man, Lord! Let him do good fer a change. Let him be worthy of yer grace. Let him shine with yer holy word. And if it’s yer will... bring him back to me, again!”
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