The Maze The Lost Labyrinth - By Jason Brannon Page 0,35
Him.’ And so I’m here.”
“A note?” Darrell Gene shuddered involuntarily as a chill raced across the back of his neck.
“Yep. It was written on a little scrap of paper. Someone had dropped it into my mailbox.”
“Your mailbox?”
“Yeah, it seemed a little unorthodox, but I figured there must have been a good reason why the author of the note did things that way.”
“And you came here based on that?”
“That’s why I’m here.” Carl shifted from foot to foot impatiently.
“But you have no idea who left the note?” Darrell Gene got the strangest sense of déjà vu.
“No,” Carl said. “I came here because I know the Lord works in mysterious ways. I figured this must be one of them.”
“Weird.” Darrell Gene thought this couldn’t be simple coincidence. “But it doesn’t prove anything. I’m sure you take it as a sign from Heaven that you’re meant to witness to me and lead me to God. It’s written in the stars or something like that. That’s the way you holy rollers think.”
“I’m just doing what I feel in my heart. I’m sure you’re doing the same.”
“I don’t think I am,” Darrell Gene said. “Somehow, I don’t think you’d like it very much if I did what was in my heart.”
“Oh.” Carl took a step back. For the first time, it seemed like he saw Darrell Gene as more of a potential threat than a potential convert.
“I’m sure you have a very specific idea about the kind of heart I have. You probably think it’s black and corrupted by sin.”
“It’s not my place to judge,” Carl said. “That’s not why I’m here at all.”
“No, it’s not your place to judge.”
“I just came here to offer my friendship, to invite you to church. I meant no harm. Please don‘t assume that.”
“I don’t assume anything about people, and I sure don’t trust ‘em. Just when you think you know a guy, he turns out to be a liar, a fraud, or a backstabber.”
“I’m sure you’ve experienced a lot of things in your life that would lead you to believe that. But not everyone lives that way.”
“I guess you’re referring to yourself.”
“Not at all,” Carl replied. “I’ve got faults just like everyone else. But I try to live right. I try to become a better person every day.”
“It sounds good in theory, but I’m not interested. Go tell it on the mountain or something. Just get out of my face.”
“Do you attend church anywhere, Mr. Rankin?” Carl asked persistently.
“Hello? Where have you been for the last five minutes? Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said. No, never been big on church, especially not after what happened to my family. Besides, I‘m not the kind of guy who fits in at a place like that. People take one look at me, and immediately the first thing they feel is pity. They think they need to take up a love offering or collect canned goods. They think I‘m a charity case or a danger to society. Take those people across the street for example.” Darrell Gene immediately realized he’d said too much.
“The Burroughs? You wouldn’t find a sweeter bunch of people.”
“I see the way they look at me. It’s like they think I’m a pervert or white trash or a criminal.”
“They’re good folks,” Carl said. “I’m sure they don’t mean to come off the way they do.”
“Well, if those are the kind of people that go to your church then I don’t want to hear about it. I definitely don‘t want to be part of a group like that.”
“You’d fit in fine,” Carl insisted. “Everyone does. We welcome anyone who wants to be included. Why don’t you try it once and see? What could it hurt?”
“Why don‘t you get a clue?” The world seemed to shift under Darrell Gene’s feet. He tried to think of an excuse that sounded plausible. “I’ve got to work this Sunday anyway.”
“I know what it’s like to feel left out of things.” Carl ignored Darrell Gene‘s protest. “I used to be a shy, introverted guy who would barely speak two words to anyone. I’m still shy to a point, but the church is the one placed where I feel accepted, wanted, needed. The people there love me.”
“I don’t need love,” Darrell Gene said. “I’ve made it all these years without.”
“There are people praying for you,” Carl explained. “I firmly believe that. Otherwise, that note would have never made its way into my mailbox, and I wouldn’t be here now. I‘m praying for you too.”
That stopped Darrell