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.
Not the man in front of me right now. He’s a monster.
His face is bright red, nostrils flared, breathing heavily, ready to burn down the city. Every muscle in his body is tense, veins bulging on his forehead and neck, and he has a murderous look on his face. He picks up the knife and hurls it down an alley and it clinks across the ground off in the distance. Then before I know what’s happened, I’m wrapped in his arms and he’s checking me all over.
“Did he hurt you? Are you okay?”
Why does being in his arms feel so good? And why do I want to rip his