Crash Test Dummy

Chapter 10

"I sort of promised Paul," he admitted.

"Dad coerced you into showing up for church?"

"No coercion involved, not really." Uncle Clarence putted his ball into the hole for a four-stroke count on a par 2. "He retold me what he calls his 'Road to Damascus' experience."

"You mean Paul's encounter with God in the Bible that turned him into a Christian instead of a killer of Jesus followers? The time when God spoke to him in the middle of a raid on the Christians and blinded him for a few days?" I recounted my school training. "That Road to Damascus?"

"Yeah." Uncle Clarence laughed. "He said he can finally get the Paul in the Bible. He said some of the guys at the prison take a new name when they find God, to show they're changed, you know. He didn't have to; he was already Paul. He said he'll just have to start trying to live up to the name. Evidently Paul was quite the hero of the New Testament, but his name means humble." He chuckled. "Your Dad's never been humble. Anyway, he said he needed to practice telling his story cause he was supposed to 'testify' – his word, not mine – at the service today."

"They let him out to go to church?!"

"No, not hardly. They have church inside the prison. The prison has a chapel inside the fence. They have their own inmate pastors. There are two different groups that hold services as part of the church. He was going to tell his story at the service that targets young guys who aren't into God."

"There are inmates who are pastors?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, and evidently they're all lifers. Angola, the prison where lifers end up, has a Bible School. They train lifers to be pastors and send them to other prisons as missionaries."

"Bizarre."

"It is strange, but it evidently works. Paul introduced me to a guy in the visiting shed. He was visiting with his wife. They guy was one of the pastor's at the church."

"You mean he's in there for life, and his wife was still visiting him?"

"Yeah. Evidently not all women are bitter like Patty, or at least don't stay that way. Evidently this guy's wife took years to come around. Another pastor in the church is divorced and his wife finally let his daughter meet him, but she's 15, and he's been in jail since she was four. Paul said they're praying for Patty with him."

"He's praying for Momz?"

"Evidently he is now. It's the first I've heard about it, though. I guess that made me listen more closely to his story. Paul told me how he found God before, but this time it sort of got me here." He tapped his left breast with his fist and laughed. He cleared his throat, took aim and cleared a water hazard. "Before I knew what I was doing, I told him I'd go with you to church today. Dumb, huh."

"Yeah, but I'm glad you didn't back out. I sort of need a buffer between Momz and me right now. We don't exactly see eye to eye."

"Tell me about it!"

I whacked my ball so hard it jumped the barrier and made a hole in one on the green next up. Luckily we had the course pretty much to ourselves. Most putt putt places were closed this time of year.

"I get to count that," I crowed.

"Not," Uncle Clarence said.

After that we concentrated on our golfing skills, or lack thereof. When we reached the end, I won, but only because I counted the accidental hole in one. Uncle Clarence said I was a cheat, and I said he was a poor loser.

When we got to the house, Uncle Clarence reached out and buffed me under the chin. "Look, CW, try to put yourself in your Mom's shoes. Instead of making war, tell her about the things your Dad writes. Let her know he's in school and that he said she's right about God. Maybe those things will help her let go of her anger and bitterness. She and Paul always had a sort of love/hate relationship. They loved each other but were so different. They hated the actions that resulted from those differences. Paul still loves her, but he understands why she's so protective of you. He said if they switched places, he'd probably be just as angry and bitter. He said to tell you that he prays for you, too, every day."