across the slightly ribbed surface of the table. Elias came in through the kitchen door. He was dressed in blue overalls, a blue work shirt, and white socks.
“Good morning,” Tom said with a smile. “Planning on doing some farming today?”
“Only in your heart.”
Elias had a book in his hand. He placed it on the table in front of Tom. It was a Bible with a bookmark in it.
“I marked the passage about the donkey. It can be your morning devotional, then we can talk about it later.”
Tom didn’t touch the black book. “Reading the Bible isn’t part of my routine.”
“Why not?”
“To use a legal term, I’ve not found it relevant.”
“When was the last time you gave it a try?”
Tom was in a good mood from the coffee and wasn’t going to let Elias steal it from him.
“I thought you retired from running a church, but if you still have the itch to lead a congregation, I’m not signing up. I’m your great-nephew, nothing more.”
“Which makes you even more precious to me. Read one chapter. If that doesn’t interest you, I’ll leave you alone”—the old man paused— “for a week.”
Tom tapped the Bible with his index finger. “Promise on this?”
Elias held up his right hand and pointed at the Bible with his left. “Deal.”
The old man left the kitchen. Rover ambled after him. Tom stared at the Bible. He’d grown up going to Sunday school and absorbed a lot of religious information by osmosis. Elias was the latest in an unbroken line of ministers in the Crane family, dating back four or five generations. However, none of Tom’s cousins had shown an interest in church work. Elias was the last of the breed.
Tom started reading. The Old Testament chapter was about a wizard named Balaam and a talking donkey that saw angels. The story had a fairy-tale feel to it. A king wanted to hire Balaam to curse the Israelites, a service that bore an uneasy resemblance to what clients often wanted lawyers to do to the other side in a legal dispute. The ensuing negotiations between king and wizard were similar to modern dickering over the terms of an employment agreement in which money is always the key component. After a deal was struck, the talking-donkey part added spice to Balaam’s journey to the job site but wasn’t the main point of the story.
Tom reached the end of the chapter without finding out what happened. He glanced toward the front room. Elias and Rover weren’t making any noise. He read three more chapters to find out what happened, then closed the Bible. He had to admit the passage contained an interesting mix of narrative, character development, and poetry. When he walked through the front room to go upstairs and get ready to go to town, Elias was sitting in his easy chair with Rover at his feet.
“Did you keep reading?” the old man asked.
Tom had his hand on the stair railing. He stopped. “Yes.”
“Was it interesting?”
Tom turned toward Elias. “In a mythical kind of way.”
“Mythical?” the old man replied. “You’ll have to explain that to me.”
“Many ancient cultures produced stories like that,” Tom said patiently. “That happened to be a good one.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” Elias adjusted his glasses.
Tom climbed the stairs. There was no harm in humoring Elias. A tall tale about a talking donkey wasn’t a threat to Tom’s intellectual integrity.
chapter
FIVE
S aturday morning office hours from 8:00 a.m. to noon in Bethel were a modern accommodation to an old-fashioned custom. For generations rural clients had been coming to town to shop for groceries, pay bills in person, and, if need be, consult an attorney.
Tom lowered the windows of the car so he could enjoy the feel and smell of the fall morning. The highway followed an old cow path and contained a few sharp turns that made driving fun. No cows or tractors slowed him down.
A large number of cars and pickup trucks were clustered in the center of town. A seasonal farmer’s market,
“Good morning,” Tom said with a smile. “Planning on doing some farming today?”
“Only in your heart.”
Elias had a book in his hand. He placed it on the table in front of Tom. It was a Bible with a bookmark in it.
“I marked the passage about the donkey. It can be your morning devotional, then we can talk about it later.”
Tom didn’t touch the black book. “Reading the Bible isn’t part of my routine.”
“Why not?”
“To use a legal term, I’ve not found it relevant.”
“When was the last time you gave it a try?”
Tom was in a good mood from the coffee and wasn’t going to let Elias steal it from him.
“I thought you retired from running a church, but if you still have the itch to lead a congregation, I’m not signing up. I’m your great-nephew, nothing more.”
“Which makes you even more precious to me. Read one chapter. If that doesn’t interest you, I’ll leave you alone”—the old man paused— “for a week.”
Tom tapped the Bible with his index finger. “Promise on this?”
Elias held up his right hand and pointed at the Bible with his left. “Deal.”
The old man left the kitchen. Rover ambled after him. Tom stared at the Bible. He’d grown up going to Sunday school and absorbed a lot of religious information by osmosis. Elias was the latest in an unbroken line of ministers in the Crane family, dating back four or five generations. However, none of Tom’s cousins had shown an interest in church work. Elias was the last of the breed.
Tom started reading. The Old Testament chapter was about a wizard named Balaam and a talking donkey that saw angels. The story had a fairy-tale feel to it. A king wanted to hire Balaam to curse the Israelites, a service that bore an uneasy resemblance to what clients often wanted lawyers to do to the other side in a legal dispute. The ensuing negotiations between king and wizard were similar to modern dickering over the terms of an employment agreement in which money is always the key component. After a deal was struck, the talking-donkey part added spice to Balaam’s journey to the job site but wasn’t the main point of the story.
Tom reached the end of the chapter without finding out what happened. He glanced toward the front room. Elias and Rover weren’t making any noise. He read three more chapters to find out what happened, then closed the Bible. He had to admit the passage contained an interesting mix of narrative, character development, and poetry. When he walked through the front room to go upstairs and get ready to go to town, Elias was sitting in his easy chair with Rover at his feet.
“Did you keep reading?” the old man asked.
Tom had his hand on the stair railing. He stopped. “Yes.”
“Was it interesting?”
Tom turned toward Elias. “In a mythical kind of way.”
“Mythical?” the old man replied. “You’ll have to explain that to me.”
“Many ancient cultures produced stories like that,” Tom said patiently. “That happened to be a good one.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” Elias adjusted his glasses.
Tom climbed the stairs. There was no harm in humoring Elias. A tall tale about a talking donkey wasn’t a threat to Tom’s intellectual integrity.
chapter
FIVE
S aturday morning office hours from 8:00 a.m. to noon in Bethel were a modern accommodation to an old-fashioned custom. For generations rural clients had been coming to town to shop for groceries, pay bills in person, and, if need be, consult an attorney.
Tom lowered the windows of the car so he could enjoy the feel and smell of the fall morning. The highway followed an old cow path and contained a few sharp turns that made driving fun. No cows or tractors slowed him down.
A large number of cars and pickup trucks were clustered in the center of town. A seasonal farmer’s market,
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