Give Me The Means (To Believe) Chapter 1

I am currently writing a novel called Give Me The Means (To Believe).  I finished writing the first chapter and am about half way done with the second.  Please share your opinion on it.  This is a rough draft so not everything is perfect.  I'm self publishing through Createspace by the way.

Chapter 1:
Sunday
I woke up just like any other day, living on the streets of Cincinnati, Ohio.  I stayed warm throughout the night, thanks to the local church for donating a couple of blankets and a coat.  It was Sunday, and as I folded my blankets and put them in the double baby stroller that held my belongings, I thought about the usual everyday things:
        My next meal was not sure, but probable.  I just had to arrive on time.
	How did I get to this point?
	How am I going to get a job, a place to stay, a new life?
	My hotel voucher is still pending at the Salvation Army after 3 months, and I check in every day.  
	And I am still homeless.  It’s either pay for my room or not, but don’t keep my hopes up for
nothing.
	No ID, no social security card, nothing.  And I cannot get anything without these.
	I need my ID to get my social security card, and I need my social security card to get my ID.
	I hate my life.
I hope get to the back door in time to get a little more than the usual portion.
	Sheesh, I’ve become the very person I would make fun of in high school. 
	I missed my food!
	Now what am I going to do for food today?
       Bill, the hot dog guy!  Maybe he’ll "throw away" some hot dogs that he “dropped”.
Bill was hard to miss, though he wasn’t your stereotypical “hot-dog guy” you’d see in the cartoons (fat, sloppy, etc.)  No, bill was lengthy, skinny, and had acne to go along with his freckles and red hair.  Very sure of himself and confident, he stuck out like a stick in the mud.
He’s only a block away, just a stone throw’s distance across the main avenue in town.
I never like to ask anything from him that would wear my welcome thin or even get him into trouble because I respected him so much, but when I scrounge for food I have the mentality of if it ain’t there, then it ain’t there (and rightfully so, I think).  So I bit the bullet and asked for a hotdog. 
I looked around to see if the coast was clear of any other beggar that might get any ideas from watching me.
 “Thank you, sir.”  I said.
“I can’t do this all the time, Thomas.” replied Bill.
“I understand, and I am truly thankful for your mercy.”
“I’m not saying that I don’t want to, but that I just can’t.  My boss doesn’t like it when I “drop” his merchandise.  But take care of yourself and may God bless you.”
“Okay, Bill, and good luck to you.”
“Oh, I don’t need luck.”
“What do you mean?”
“I got Jesus.”
“Oh, okay.  Whatever works for you.  Take it easy.”
“You too.”
While walking away, I thought to myself, “God is dead.”
I continued thinking to myself, 
  “While I’m thinking about it, I need some new clothes.  I guess it's time to make a church service and then hit up the pastor for a new set.  These have gotten so filthy with sweat and whatever else I came in contact with, and are beyond saving.
 After that I should get a shower.  I know that if I can get to the community pool when the owner gets there, he might let me use the shower real fast in the restroom. “
  I was only about three blocks away from the church from where I was.  Every time I got there, I always met up with Willie, a fellow homeless man.  Willie was an older heavy set African-American man, who would always be sitting on a bucket right across the street from the church on a sidewalk with a smile on his face.  He’d just sit there and watch the church-goers park their cars, interact, go in, come out and leave.  I liked Willie, but he was a Christian.  You know, “one of them”.  As I would approach Willie’s stakeout, I’d always stand next to him few minutes and talk with him.  
“I always feel so out of place there, nervous even.  People dress up like they have to or something.  Some churches require it, and I think that’s wrong, even if they do buy it for you, it’s still wrong.  Why should I play dress up?  So that I can please the pastor?  Cult leader is more like it.”, I said.
“Don’t pay no mind to them.  If they don’t make you feel welcome then they probably hurting in some way worse than you.  I always say to myself that they just don’t know the same God I do.”
“You know, Willie, I like you.  You’re authentic.  Not them though, they seem to be the biggest hypocrites I ever met.”
“Tom, have you even met any of them?”
“One or two, but no one is just that smiley.  It’s all fake and I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Maybe.  You might be on to something there, my friend.  And I’m sure that it makes total sense to judge a perfect god based on imperfect people too, huh?  No matter how holy anybody thinks they are, or how perfect anyone seems, God always proves to be more superior because He created them.”
Willie goes on to say, “We all born already ruined, and in need of redemption.  That’s why we need Jesus.  When Jesus died, He took all the brokenness of the world with him to His death so that we could have life with Him forever.”
“Yeah, yeah.  I know, God became human and died for our sins…”  Thomas said in a sarcastic voice. 
“Well, service is about to start.  How’s my hair look?”
Willie busted out laughing.
“What’re you laughing at?”
 “Who’s the hypocrite now?  ‘How’s my hair look?’ Go on, go to church and get fed!” Willie continued laughing.
I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, so I walked away as he was still laughing at my expense.  As I was walking away I went around the block to go in the church from the other side.

MEETING WITH PASTOR LUCKEY
  I didn’t want to go to another church because I’ve known the pastor of this church since we went to college together specializing in Computer Technology and Networking (which is a big reason why I am homeless today).  Although we came from two different states, we seemed to be almost the same person, we were so alike.  I came from Texas and James came from Florida, but we both met at the University of Cincinnati.
     I grew up in a Christian home, but James didn’t.  By the time we had graduated together with our bachelor’s degrees we had found two different truths in life that we thought that we’d never find.  We both had tested God, but what confuses me is why he chose the path of intellectual suicide.  James “felt called” into the “ministry” of “spreading” the “gospel”.
     As I was entering James’ office he greeted me with a friendly hug and cool A/C. 
“It’s getting pretty hot out there.  Have a seat and stay a while.”
“Sounds like a plan” I replied.
“What can I do you for old friend?  Anything at all?”
I pulled out the only dollar I had on me and said, “I’d like about a million of these.”
     We both laughed at the thought. 
“I can’t help you there, how a about a hotel room for a couple of nights and some clothes?  Its all I can really do on our budget.  Oh, and we got some more food our pantry, you want to check it out?”
“I’ll work for it.”
“No, please, it’s free.”
“I might be homeless, but I also know what it means to be a man.”
“Well, okay then…are you sure?”
“Stop.”
“Okay, alright…”
“I can mow, trim hedges, whatever.”
“Yeah, we need all that.  One of the deacons usually does that, and I provide everything.  I guess I can give Ronnie a break this week.  Come on, I’ll show you where everything is.”
     I felt honored to be able to work again, even if just for a day.  When I was about twelve years old I used to rack in at least $75 a day doing yard work all over town; it’s sad that today I work for food and clothing.  I guess I never knew what I had until now…
“Here it is, knock yourself out….Not literally, I really don’t want to take you to the hospital, but, you know…”
We both laughed.
“Yeah, I know.  Don’t worry, I have experience.  But, you’re gonna have to show me how to use that…”
As I pointed at the zero degree turn radius riding lawn mower with twenty horsepower, James replied,
“Oh, ha ha!  I’ll call my grandson over; he could show you how to use that because I haven’t quite mastered it yet!”
He continued, “Oh, there he is over there.  John! Come over here a minute!”
     I looked over and there was James’ grandson, about five feet six inches tall at twelve years old, built like an ox.  “That boy ain’t corn fed, he must be tractor fed!”  I thought to myself.
“Come show my friend here how to use this contraption over here.”
Looking at his grandpa with a smile and then looking over at me he said, “Alright.  Follow me.”
     I got about a ten minute crash course and then through about another ten minutes of trial and error I was off.  Mowing that lawn gave me time to think.  I always did do my best thinking while working.  But, anyways, I was thinking about what it was like when I got my job after college.  What it felt like to be able to use my degree.  Then I couldn’t help but to think about here and now, and getting lost into thought so much that I see that tree getting closer and closer…and…WAIT! Brakes! Brakes! Where are the brakes again?!  Oh yeah!
That was close…
I began looking around to see if anyone saw.
As I looked across the street, I saw Willie sitting on his bucket…Smiling and waving…Chuckling to himself…
“Hey George of the Jungle, watch out for that tree!”
     I shot him a dirty look and continued mowing, which sent him on his back laughing harder…
Good thing he was the only one looking though…
When I finished mowing, trimming the hedges, trimming the tree branches, and pulling my dignity together I came into the office drenched with sweat to collect my payment. 
“You need a shower, man?” asked Pastor Luckey”
“Yeah, I missed getting to the community pool in time to use theirs.”
“We got one over here. “
     I got my food, clothes, and shower.  He called one of the cheapest hotels in town and got me a room for three nights.  It might have been one of the cheapest hotels in town, but it sure was several steps up from waking to the smell of garbage or being chased off by the police in the park early in the morning while sleeping on a bench.  And, James didn’t even require…or even mention, me attending one of his services.  He never has, in fact.  Unlike, any other church…
I enjoyed air conditioning, a bed with covers (or a mattress for that matter), and a bathroom complete with a toilet, sink, and bathtub with shower head.  Before I knew it, it was dark outside and I was tired and I slept like a rock.
 

 

Tags: humor, faith, anger, pain,