Brother Ezra Page 3

This is the greatest thing that has ever happened to our town.”

  The sheriff pursed his lips looking at Tom Henry strolling slowly along on the next block. “Brother Ezra, huh. What did he just do to you? Did he cure any of your ailments?”

  “I don’t have any one single ailment. I have a lot of little ones.” She smiled up at the sheriff. “All of them are from old age and can’t be cured. So Brother Ezra gave me his blessing.” She paused a moment looking back at Brother Ezra. “Which is enough, don’t you think?”

  “How much did Brother Ezra charge for his blessing?” the sheriff asked.

  The woman’s smile changed abruptly to a frown. “You don’t believe, do you?” She paused a moment as she picked up her shopping bag. “There’s a special place in hell for people like you.” She nodded at Baker and walked away.

  Baker started walking after Tom Henry. “You really frosted her. She thinks Tom has talked with God and you insinuate he’s a criminal.” Baker waited until they were fifty feet from Tom Henry. “Be extra polite. We don’t want people at election time remembering that you called a Born Again Christian a common criminal.”

  “Wait a minute.” The sheriff shook out a Maalox tablet. “My gut is beginning to rock and roll. Tom Henry can’t cure it because he’s the one causing it.”

  Baker waited until the sheriff was chewing the tablet before walking up to Tom Henry. Baker held out his hand. “Good afternoon, Mr. Henry. I’m Chief Deputy Baker and this is Sheriff Tom Abel.”

  “Please, it’s Brother Ezra now, a humble servant of the Lord.” He shook hands with both men and kept looking at Baker. “I saw you at the Revival last night. You were with that lovely woman who also saw the Light. How is she doing?”

  “She’s fine, but I don’t think she’s changed her name. She’ll probably be at the Revival tonight. Are you going?”

  Brother Ezra shook his head. “There’s no need of me going. My work is out here in the community. So many people and so few of them saved.”

  Baker stepped back and looked Brother Ezra over. “How come you’re wearing a robe and carrying a stick? Is there any significance in the name Ezra?”

  “Please, it’s not a stick, it’s a staff. A fine one from a red oak sapling.” He glanced at the sheriff and then back to Baker. “Ezra was an Old Testament Prophet. I hope to live up to his name.” He turned away for a moment and looked at people on the street. “The robe, sandals and staff are all I need to spread the Word of the Lord.”

  The sheriff inched forward. “What about healing? We’ve heard that you have the magic touch. You can cure any ailment known to modern medicine.”

  Brother Ezra closed his eyes for thirty seconds. “I have no healing abilities. The people heal themselves through their belief in the Lord. I am but a simple conduit through which the Good Lord spreads His love.”

  “How many have you cured?” The sheriff washed the lingering taste of the Maalox tablet away with his Pepsi. “Has anyone thrown their wheelchair away or stopped taking their diabetes medicine?”

  Brother Ezra backed up a step. “I don’t keep statistics. A few have been healed. The Lord doesn’t promise to heal them right away. Some will be healed next month or even next year. The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

  The sheriff tossed his empty Pepsi can into a street trash container. His forehead wrinkled as he moved closer to Brother Ezra. “I don’t believe a word of it. It’s all a scam. You’re all dressed up like someone from the Bible. You give yourself a biblical name and then throw out a few quotes. If nothing happens you can always say the Lord works in mysterious ways.”

  Brother Ezra turned partly around as if to walk away. “I never made any claims about healing. If you don’t want to believe, don’t believe.” He nodded at Baker and started to walk away.

  “Whoa, just a minute.” The sheriff felt for the reassuring shape of the Maalox bottle. “We have a few more questions for you.” He stepped back and nodded at Baker.

  Baker had been thinking on how to question Brother Ezra while the sheriff was talking. He really didn’t want to offend Brother Ezra because offending him meant you also offended all the Born Again Christians in the county, plus all the Christians who wanted to be born again. He cleared his throat a few times, adjusted his holster and wiped his forehead.

  “The sheriff would like to know.” Baker started over again. “We would like to know where you went after the Revival Monday night. That’s the night you were saved.”

  Brother Ezra kept his eyes on Baker. “Yes, I remember the latter part of Monday night very well. The part before my conversion is like a dense fog. Possibly an alcoholic fog due to the apricot brandy and other alcoholic beverages I had consumed that afternoon. Afterward, when I left the tent, my mind was crystal clear. The Milky Way was ablaze with stars. Venus was on fire in the evening sky. The sky was one gigantic aurora. I heard Gabriel’s Horn and knew in that instant that I was saved.” He dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

  The sheriff frowned as Brother Ezra stayed on one knee for thirty seconds. He looked at Baker and twirled his finger against his temple. “Crazy as a loon,” he mouthed silently at Baker.

  Baker put his hand under Brother Ezra arm and helped him rise. “We have this young woman who claims she was robbed and raped late Monday night.” He paused and looked into Brother Ezra’s eyes. “She has accused you of raping her that night.”

  Brother Ezra tapped on the concrete sidewalk to emphasize his answer. “No way, not a chance. If she had said any of the previous nights, it could possibly be true. I was a sinner of the worst kind up to Monday night.” He looked at the sheriff. “Who is accusing me? I will pray for her soul and hope that the Good Lord will show her the Light.”

  The sheriff rolled his eyes and looked skyward. “We can’t tell you that right now. The accuser has not filed a formal complaint. When she does, we will provide all the necessary information to your lawyer.”

  “Lawyer! What lawyer are you talking about? The Good Lord will be my lawyer. I will need no one else.” Brother Ezra looked at Baker and then the sheriff. “Are you arresting me? If not, I have to go pray. While I’m at it, I will mention both of you in my prayers.”

  The sheriff twirled his billy club a few times and then began using it to tap his knee. “Don’t bother. Save your prayers for yourself. When we get some DNA from this woman, we’ll have you so far in jail that it will take you two days to get to the front gate.” He waited until Brother Ezra was ten feet away. “And don’t try to leave town. We’ll be watching so don’t try to charge for any of your so-call healing.”

  Brother Ezra walked briskly away, using the staff as a walking aid. He made no indication that he had heard the sheriff.

  Baker waited until Brother Ezra turned down a side street. “Don’t you think you were a little hard on him? Maybe he did hear Gabriel’s Horn.”

  The sheriff started walking back to the squad car. “Have you lost your mind? He didn’t hear any horn. When he was speaking in tongues, it was probably pig latin. He hasn’t healed anyone.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t think he raped anyone either. That woman was either drunk, crazy or having a hot flash.” He waited until they were in the auto. “Now, Tom isn’t crazy. He’s trying to run a scam and make some money.”

  Baker sat there, making no effort to start the car. “I don’t know. Delores thinks he’s the greatest thing since Billy Sunday. She hasn’t had a cigarette since that night.”

  Sheriff Abel slowly shook his head. “What does that have to do with Tom? Has she gone crazy, too?”

  Baker started the car, looked around and pulled out into the street. “Delores isn’t crazy but she is a little bit different. She quit smoking, slowed up drinking and raises the devil with people who use profane or vulgar language.”

  The sheriff leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. “How’s her meatloaf and mashed potatoes?”

  A week later, Sheriff Abel eased the phone back into its cradle. He made a pencil mark on
the left side of the desk calendar. “Would you believe it? That’s seventy-five people who want me to put Hilda Swenson in jail for falsely accusing Brother Ezra. Very few of them show any Christian Spirit or Forgiveness. Most of them say they hope she roasts in Hell. Then at the very last, they have to remind me how they voted in the last election.”

  Baker slid down further in the easy chair. “How is the other side running? Delores won’t even let Hilda sit at the bar in the Legion. Somebody has to buy a drink and take it to Hilda’s table.” Baker paused a moment. “Has Delores called?”

  The sheriff reached for his Maalox bottle. “Five times, but I only counted it as once.” He ran his finger of the marks on the right side of the calendar. “I’ve had eighty calls demanding I lock Brother Ezra in our deepest cell and throw away the key. He is a rapist, a con man and a false prophet. Tar and feathering is too good for him.”

  “What else do they say?”

  “They remind me how they voted in the last election. I think the voting machines malfunctioned. I only got 52% but everybody who calls voted for me.”

  “Well, what are you going to do? Half the voters want to lock up the accuser and the other half want to lock up the accused. Why couldn’t we get lucky and one or both leave town.”

  The sheriff shook a Maalox tablet out onto his desk. “Tonight is the last night of the Revival. I think