The Backwater Gospel

Chapter 1: The Undertakers are coming

As the sun beat down upon him, a man known by nothing more than the name of Bum hummed a solemn tune. He picked at the strings of his guitar as he cranked each knob to find the perfect tune as he propped himself up against the scolding metal of his beaten down truck. That's all he often did with his day. In the opinions of others around him, his love for that guitar was useless, to both him and the citizens of his small town.
Bum's gaze was drawn to the others as he plucked away at the guitar. A large, muscular boy named Buba worked tirelessly at an anvil next to a blazing fire. In Bum's eyes, it was a miracle that poor boy never suffered a heat stroke. Hell, he was still just a kid, he didn't deserve to have such torment daily.
Another person stepped into his line of sight, an older woman named Mary. Bum knew Mary from when they were young and the town was first erected. Back then, she was so beautiful, so full of life and optimistic to the world, but now, it was as though she struggled to even curl her lips upward into a smile. A bit of her joy had been stripped away from her every time she would strip her clothes away for a client.
Who was the man making Mary do such things but her own husband, Jessie. A drunk who refused to work. Scum of the earth who had taken so much life from a once bubbly and kind woman. The only good thing that came from their marriage were their children, Ruben and Lily.
Bum scoffed and looked down at the strings of his guitar. As one of his fingers curled around the guitar string once again, it's sound was drowned out by the loud chime of that church bell.

Up the hill, taller than any other building was the church the town loved so damn much. But not Bum. What had the lord given him? One leg and a family who refuses to interact with him. The titles of a failure and an embarrassment. The bell continued to chime as the large double doors swung open. As though they were in a trance, everyone turned and began to climb the hill to their congregation. Bum shook his head slowly before a splash of garbage collided with the side of his face "Sinner!" One woman shouted. That's all he was? He fought for them, and yet, he is still seen as a garbage riddled sinner.

As he held one of the doors, Father Donovan glared at the legless man as he simply sat with no clear intention to join them "Submit to the lord, Bum!" Donovan called, in an angry voice.
Bum looked back up the hill, offering a smirk "It'd do you some good to try it for yourself, father!"
Gritting his teeth, Father Donovan slammed the door as the last soul passed through its opening.
All attention fell on him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and slowly walked down the nave to the front of the church.

Donovan cleared his throat "Children... One apple. One apple spoils the whole barrel! That sinner outside is influencing all of us to sin! And what happens to sinners? It is said that the city of Sodom rained with flames to cleanse the world of its sin! Death is the only consequence for sin, my children! One apple is all it takes to bring upon all of our deaths! That apple must be cast from the barrel and destroyed!"
Outside, Bum listened. Father Donovan loved to hear his own voice, he spoke so loudly. But a part of him knew that Donovan was trying to make himself loud enough to be heard, loud enough to scold him without actually speaking face to face with a "sinner".
A shriek from a crow in his ear, snapped Bum from his focus on the Father's words. Perched on the headstock of the guitar, the crow looked into his eyes. More and more crows flew past the man. He froze, listening for that all too familiar sound. Listening for the sound of hooves beating against the dirt. It wasn't long until he heard it, faintly.

"...it is in the face of evil that..." Father Donovan stopped speaking, the sound of crows outside, flapping their wings in one direction "...Not again..." he murmured. Suddenly, the doors to the church flew open, Bum stood with a mischievous grin across his face "The undertakers are comin'!" He called in a taunting tone. Fear fell across the room, accompanied by whispers of pure terror
"Is anyone sick?"
"Their the Devil, we need to go home!"
"Who're they comin' for?"
Jessie stood, sweat clearly falling from his forehead "Well it ain't goin' be me!" He shouted, shoving his own wife and children out of his way so he could sprint out the open doors. Just like that, others stood and followed suit, some nearly trampling the others as the fled down the hill.

On his way out, Buba's eyes met with father Donovan "S-sorry father..." he begged. Bum watched every single person leave, his grin growing wider and wider "Awful good that submission does!" He taunted before beginning to strum a perfectly tuned guitar.
Donovan stared at the bearded man, his teeth once again gritted so tightly that they ached and hurt. His fingers clenched around his Bible tighter and tighter with every new note from that cursed man's guitar. The father picked up a crucifix and hurled it at the man as hard as he could, missing him entirely "You dirty demon! God will smite you down!" He was enraged beyond all comprehension.