“It wasn’t your bed’s fault,” Delroy said, stifling a yawn.
“Well,” Walter said, nodding his head, “you put in a hard day yesterday, I’ll have to say that for you. Probably a lot more than you should have.”
“I shouldn’t have left when I did,” Delroy said, remembering how chaotic yesterday had been.
After Phyllis and her children had arrived at the church, followed by the young couple who had been just as troubled and needing answers, more and more people had come from the neighborhood. Delroy had not done a head count, but he guessed that three or four hundred had come in for counseling.
He felt bad that he didn’t have a proper place to welcome them, or even enough chairs to sit them in. After the new arrivals started coming, he’d tried to get the church in order, surprised at how he could hear his mother’s voice in the back of his head telling him that she didn’t want people in the church if it wasn’t fit to keep hogs in.
The church back in those days had always looked homey and neat as a pin. But yesterday Delroy hadn’t had much of a chance to clean. There had been too many people with questions about what had happened, about what was going to happen next.
After the discussions they had divided up among themselves and started cleaning the church. Of course, the ladies had initiated most of that effort, but the men had quickly fallen into line. They’d collected brooms and mops and trash bags at first, then chairs for people to sit in. By evening, men had come with tools and glass and paint, and they’d quietly set to work repairing and restoring the church.
At first as Delroy had talked to the neighborhood folk, he’d taken strength from their presence. It was surprising how much it seemed they had to give. Finally, though, when even he had been forced to admit his voice was giving out, he’d allowed Walter to take him back to the Purcell home, eaten the meal Clarice had prepared, and had fallen into bed. When he got up this morning, he’d discovered Clarice had washed and ironed his dress whites.
“You couldn’t have went on, Chaplain,” Walter said, waving the excuse away. “Why, if you had’a, you wouldn’t have been able to go back today.”
Delroy accepted that. “I know.”
Walter pointed. “We’re gonna stop up here at Mitchell’s Donut Shop. Gonna rent us a five-gallon coffeemaker and buy plenty of grounds. I figure it’s gonna be another long day.”
After they’d parked in front of the small building, Delroy followed Walter inside the shop. The smell of donuts greeted him but didn’t tempt him. In addition to doing his laundry, Clarice Purcell had prepared a breakfast that even a sailing man had to respect. And Delroy had eaten his fill.
Delroy insisted on paying for the rental and the coffee, and Walter finally agreed to go halves. While Walter picked up the equipment from the back, Delroy’s attention was drawn to the television hanging in one corner of the shop’s small dining room.
“… trial begins today here at Fort Benning, Georgia,” a woman reporter was saying as she stood in front of a building marked OFFICE OF THE PROVOST MARSHAL. “Colonel Henry Erickson is sitting at the bench of this military court.”
The scene changed to show a woman with dark hair and dark eyes.
“As you may recall from my interview with Mrs. Megan Gander on last night’s show,” the woman reporter said, “Mrs. Gander is on trial for dereliction of duty here at Fort Benning.”
The news caught Delroy’s attention even more. It seemed like he remembered the name. People at the church yesterday had been talking about Megan Gander, but he couldn’t quite remember what they’d said.
“Mrs. Gander tried to save a young boy from jumping to his death on the night of the disappearances,” the reporter went on. “According to her story and the stories of a few others I have talked to, the boy did indeed fall from that building. But he disappeared, just like all the other children.”
The story clicked into place in Delroy’s head. He’d wanted to see the story, but there had been no television at the church. By the time he’d arrived at the Purcell home, he’d forgotten all about it.
“Many people don’t believe those disappearances followed a pattern,” the woman reported. “There are many doubters out there who subscribe to the theory advanced by Chaim Rosenzweig and Romanian President Nicolae Carpathia that some bizarre chain of events involving built-up nuclear energy and electromagnetism caused the disappearances of so many people around the world. But Mrs. Gander contends that the Rapture occurred that night, that the hand of God came down and took all the believers from the world, leaving behind those who had missed out on the opportunity to have a personal relationship to Him through Jesus Christ, our Savior.”
“Quite a story, isn’t it?” Walter asked as he returned to the front counter with the coffeepot. “I got a chance to watch the interview last night.”
“What did you think?” Delroy asked.
“Well, I’ll tell you,” Walter said, “I don’t think I’d have believed as much of it as I did if I hadn’t heard you talking about the same thing all day yesterday.” He nodded toward the television. “That Mrs. Gander there, she appears to be a fine woman. A stand-up woman. But she’s going up against the United States Army, and that’s no easy thing. I think she believes what she’s saying, but she doesn’t know as much about the Tribulation as you do.”
“We’ll all learn about it,” Delroy said. “Those of us who have been left behind. We’ll see it firsthand.”
“Yes, sir, I believe you when you say that.” Walter glanced back at the television. “But that lady there, she’s gonna need to pull a rabbit out of her hat to convince them military folks. I listened to an interview with Major Augustus Trimble