Free Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 09 by Miracles in Maggody

ago. When I heard you were putting on revivals, I wrote and told you all about the pasture and how perfect it would be for your City of Hope. Don’t you remember?”
    It occurred to Malachi that the option and subsequent sale would be determined by his reaction to this disturbed woman with unnaturally yellow hair. “Of course, I do,” he said through a strained smile, “and I am delighted. I’m sure if we pray together we can iron out all your problems and get you aimed straight for prosperity. Why don’t you call my manager and ask him to make you an appointment sometime during revival week?”
    She stumbled around the desk, taking a jolting hit to her hip in the process, and grabbed his hand. Rubbing it against her damp cheek, she said, “Thank you, Malachi. There’s so much I want to tell you. I’ve allowed lust to rule my heart, and you must counsel me until I have the courage to cast aside my sinful ways.”
    He freed his hand and patted her shoulder as he would a large dog. “Until then, you’ll be foremost in my prayers, Norma Kay. Foremost.”
    To his dismay (but not his surprise), she burst into tears and flung herself at him. He was much too concerned with the deleterious effects of salt water on his silk tie to notice as a door at the back of the office closed with a soft click.
    —==(O)==—
    Brother Verber was sitting on the rectory steps when he spotted Mrs. Jim Bob coming across the lawn, marching along like a brisk drill sergeant, her arms swinging smartly and her chin leading the way. As always, an aura of conviction and dedication hovered about her, he thought admiringly, giving him as well as the rest of the congregation strength to aid in the battle against wickedness and fornication. Why, he’d put her in the ring with Satan anytime and never once doubt the outcome. He mentally dressed her in a short leather dress and a hood that came just below her eyes so her mouth would be free to tell ol’ Satan what she thought of his wily attempts to lure good Christians into his den of iniquity. She’d pull out a whip and flail his buttocks until he whimpered for mercy. Then she’d put her foot on his chest and look down at him, her face distorted with anger—
    “I was looking for you in the Assembly Hall,” she called, interrupting his pleasant reverie. “We can no longer sit in the sunshine and allow this Malachi Hope to destroy our town. It’s time to take action, Brother Verber.”
    Uncomfortably aware of a peculiar sensation in his privates, he stood up and held open the screen door for her. “Action, Sister Barbara?”
    She continued into the living room and sat on the sofa. “Yes, action. I was tidying some papers on Jim Bob’s desk when I came across some ominous scribbles.”
    Aghast, Brother Verber plopped down beside her. “Scribbles like pentagrams and hexes? Jim Bob isn’t turning to devil worship, is he? I had a newsletter from the seminary that said it’s happening more and more these days—especially among the youngsters. This newsletter said we’re facing a worldwide Satanic Panic, and if we don’t stop it, women will be dancing naked and engaging in lustful degradation with their very neighbors and kinfolk.”
    “All I said was that I found some scribbles,” she said as she watched the sweat dribbling down the sides of his face and clinging to the tip of his nose. “In this particular case, they had dollar signs attached to ‘em.”
    He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “Was he working on the family budget?”
    “No, he was not, Brother Verber. From what I could tell, he’s been offered two hundred dollars an acre for that land next to Bur’s. That adds up to forty thousand dollars all together.”
    “That’s a lot,” he said, gripping her knee so she’d know he was as concerned as she was. “It’s hard to imagine Jim Bob turning down that kind of money just to save the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall from the likes of this