Heavenly Hoboes

Since Abe didn’t have a shot record for Horace, the old dog had to suffer every known injection all at one time. One of them, the Veterinarian had warned, was going to hurt for a good long while. In an effort to make amends, Abe stopped at the Lickity-Split Pet Store on his way to the Center and bought a bag of doggie treats. But before going to the alley to see if Horace had come home he made a quick detour to pick up the bible that Captain Hedges had loaned him.

  In the alleyway, Horace had pushed his whole body under his rag bed. At first Abe didn’t see him and would have probably overlooked him completely if the frightened old dog hadn’t been quivering so much. Abe edged over to him. “Horace,” he said in a pleasant voice, “is that you under there?”

  The rag-pile quaked a little more and the tip of Horace’s tail popped out and began to twitch ever so slightly back and forth.

  Abe sat down beside the bed and patted the top of the pile. “I brought you something,” he said. “When you’re ready for it, I’ll be right here.” He patted the pile again, then opened the bible and began to read. In a few minutes he was asleep. Before he realized it, the afternoon had slipped away and Horace was licking him awake.

  The old dog was happier now, seeming to have forgotten the morning ordeal. Abe gave him one of the rawhide bones he had purchased earlier, then closed the bible on page three. If it hadn’t been so late he would have read on, but it was nearing five o’clock and he was anxious to see if McDougal had returned yet. He walked around the building and went into the dining room, but McDougal wasn’t there.

  Shorty had been gone all day and had never once checked in with Abe to let him know how his meeting arrangements were going. Being busy with Horace, the bible reading, and the siesta, Abe hadn’t worried about McDougal’s progress until now. He sat down at one of the tables and nervously drummed his fingers against the pine boards.

  It was two minutes after five when the Irishman, beaming with excitement, rushed into the dining room. Fortunately, Captain Hedges didn’t lock the front door like Brother Elkins did during the dinner hour. Shorty arrived just in time to hear Captain Hedges deliver the last words of his blessing. “Amen,” Shorty said with a nod to the Captain, then sat down beside Abe. Abraham was noticeably on edge. Shorty gave him a grin but didn’t seem in any hurry to explain his tardiness.

  “Well?” Abe finally had to ask. “Did you find us a place?”

  “Were ya thinkin’ I’d be lettin’ ya down?” Shorty answered. He patted the upper front of his jacket.

  Abe opened his mouth to reply, but Shorty cut him off. “Don’t ya be frettin’. Thomas McDougal ain’t one to take his work lightly.” He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his inside jacket pocket and waved it in front of Abe for a moment then stuck it back into his pocket. “It’s all properly signed by them in authority and the meetin’s set fer seven-thirty tonight.”

  Abe breathed out a sigh of relief. “Where?” he asked.

  “The Park,” Shorty answered rather hurriedly as he rose from the table. “I’ll be runnin’ along now to finish gettin’ the word out as to the new location, and I’ll meet up with ya there.” Before Abe could question him further, the little man spun around and almost ran to the entry hall. At the door he stopped and gave Abe a finger wave.

  “What…” Abe started to say, but he was too late. Shorty darted through the door.

  “I don’t mean to pry,” Captain Hedges interrupted Abe’s thoughts. “Is Mr. McDougal feeling ill? I mean, he didn’t stay for dinner.”

  Abe looked up then pushed his chair back from the table. “I—I don’t think so, but I have the feeling maybe I ought to go check on him.”

  “If I can be of any help,” Hedges offered with a nod.

  Abe scooted his chair back to the table and folded his hands in front of himself. “You know, Captain, now that you mention it, there is something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”

  Hedges sat down across from Abe. “Yes?”

  “Well, I was just thinking,” Abe started, but as though he may have changed his mind, he paused for a long time.

  Hedges cleared his throat. “And?”

  “Well,” Abe began slowly, “you being a religious man and all, I was just wondering. Well, if you were the Lord and living in heaven where you had everything you ever wanted or needed, what would make you want to come down here and let yourself be seen?”

  It was apparent the question came as a surprise to the Captain. He took in a deep breath and chewed his lower lip in thought for a moment before answering. “That’s a good question,” he said with a look of puzzlement on his face. “I’ve never given it any thought to be honest. I suppose the only answer is that He loves us and He worries about us. Worries about how we treat other people and ourselves. I wouldn’t presume to answer for God, but if you read the Bible you’ll find that He’s shown Himself many times to people. People like Adam and Abraham and Moses and others. Why do you ask?”

  Abe’s face reddened.

  “Oh, yes, I recall now,” Hedges said with a nod. “Are you and Mr. McDougal still talking with the Lord? Is that what this is all about?”

  “We haven’t actually talked to him anymore,” Abe clarified. “That is to say, He hasn’t been talking back like he did before. But He still shows up, and I haven’t figured out why yet.”

  Hedges smiled and patted Abe’s shirtsleeve. “I’m sure it will all work out. You know God has His own reasons for doing the things He does. It’s not really our job to second-guess Him. It’ll no doubt all come to you someday.” He stopped and looked around the room. “Well,” he changed the subject with a hand gesture that said it was handled as far as he was concerned. “Shall we eat?”

  After a quick dinner, Abe showered and put on his best suit of clothes then sat down on his cot to read a bit more. Had it not been for Leroy Titus’ evening room-check he would have been terribly late for the meeting.

  “You haven’t signed in,” Peon snapped when he saw Abe. “Where’s your friend? He hasn’t signed in either.”

  “Oh, my God!” Abe gasped. “What time is it?”

  “Seven-thirteen,” Peon said, looking at his over-sized wristwatch.

  Abe jumped to his feet and ran toward the stairwell.

  “Sign my book!” Peon yelled after him.

  Outside, darkness had begun to steal away the sky. Abe was praying aloud that Peon’s watch was wrong as he left the Salvation Army Building and half-ran the few blocks to the Park. It was quite dark when he got there, and his sudden appearance startled a young couple that thought they were alone on the raised, multi-purpose platform. The young man was softly serenading the girl with a tune on his harmonica, but stopped abruptly when Abe joined them on the bandstand.

  “Sorry,” Abe said just as the streetlights around the walkway came on. He motioned for the lad to continue. “Do you know something a little more lively?” he asked, and when the young man nodded, he asked him to play it as loud as he could. The boy was happy to oblige and began to fill the air with “Oh, Susanna.” He was a pretty good harmonica player, and as Abe turned to look out over the park he was pleased to see a small crowd beginning to gather at the base of the bandstand to listen to the boy. Just beyond this crowd he saw several of the men he recognized as being at the previous night’s awakening. Among this second group he spotted McDougal pushing his way to the front.

  “What did you promise them this time?” He asked when Shorty came trotting up and joined him on the platform stage.

  “Not a thing,” Shorty panted. “I just reminded them to come to the convention tonight.”

  “Convention? You told them we were having a convention?”

  Shorty squinted at him. “Well, wouldn’t ya say it is sort of a convention? It really ain’t supposed to start tonight but the permit is legal and all.”

  “Mr. McDougal, if you get us in trouble again…what kind of convention is it anyway?”

  “O
h, just a little one,” the Irishman mumbled. “We’re star-gazers don’t ya see? Mostly we gather to look at the sky and such.”

  The young man with the harmonica had changed tunes and was now standing behind Abe and Shorty stomping his foot to the beat of “Turkey In The Straw”. The small crowd of eighteen or twenty adults and children was bobbing in time to the fast rhythm when Abe turned to address them. “Folks, I’m sure glad you’re here tonight and the Lord’ll be happy too.”

  The boy stopped playing and the crowd looked inquisitively at Abe. He pointed to the heavens. “Have you ever looked up into the night sky at all the stars and everything and wondered if there was someone or something up there looking back at you?”

  To a person, everyone automatically looked up. It was a clear, cool evening with millions of stars visible. Some of the people began to point out the bigger stars and the different constellations.

  “It just seems there’s no end to it,” Abe said over the buzz of the crowd. When the talk settled down, he continued, “You know, folks, I’ve been a hobo most of my life. Rode the rails through every state pretty much. I guess I’m what you’d call a rambler, moving around from place to place, never calling anyplace home.” He paused and studied the faces of the people in the crowd. They were focused on him. “I’ve slept on the ground more than I’ve ever slept in a bed,” he went on. “And I’ve looked up at those same stars from a lot of places. They’ve been a wonderment to me from the swamps of Georgia to the highest mountains of the Rockies. There’s not too many things that’ll compare to the beauty of them. At least that’s what I thought up until a couple of days ago.”

  Abe took his hat off and rolled it up in his hands. He lowered his eyes as if he didn’t know what to say next. “Go on, young man,” an older lady said. She was smiling and nodding her head slightly, encouraging him to finish. “Tell us what happened to change your mind.”

  Shorty nudged him with a quick tap on his arm. “I’m thinkin’ this’d be the right time to spill what ya know.”

  “I’m getting to it,” said Abe. He raised his voice so the people in his audience could hear him, “You folks don’t know me and I don’t know you and it’s kind of embarrassing telling you this. But I feel like that’s what the Lord wants me to do. You see, up until a few days ago I was a real heavy drinker, but not anymore, I’m not. That’s because the Lord Himself came down and told me to quit.”

  This new twist on what Abe was saying didn’t seem to set well with the crowd. In the behavior of a school of fish or a flock of birds they began to turn in unison to make their getaway. The only thing that stopped them from departing was the ring of winos, bums and assorted ill-dressed tramps that surrounded them. Abe’s reformed followers from the evening before had locked their arms together forming a chain which none of the townsfolk appeared to be inclined to break. The nervous tension was evident on their faces as they again turned to face Abe.

  “Now, I’m not going to preach to you, if that’s what’s worrying you,” Abe informed them. “To be real honest, I ain’t ever read the whole bible, and the part I did read didn’t make much sense to me. I just want to tell you that the Lord is right here with us and he worries about us. That’s all I wanted to say. He knows each and everyone of us by name and He’d sure like for us to be better people, and to listen to Him. I think that’s all He really wants from us.” Abe stopped and again pointed skyward.

  In the same instant, the walkway lamps extinguished and a magnificent, shimmering light engulfed the small crowd. It poured down on them as though a rainbow had been flung into a waterfall and had shattered into a billion bits of color. It radiated back and forth from person to person for a few seconds, and then disappeared as quickly as it had come forth. In awe and speechless, every person in the crowd gazed up at Abe. There was the look of complete reverence in each of the faces.

  “That was the Lord,” Abe said. “And I’m sure glad He came. Isn’t He something?”

  “Amen!” someone shouted.

  “Amen, amen, amen. Hallelujah!” the crowd responded loudly.

  As the crowd was praising the occurrence, one of its members, a distinguished looking man in white golf slacks and a blue blazer, squeezed through the other people and stood at the edge of the platform. “Brother…ah?”

  “Abraham,” Abe supplied.

  “Brother Abraham, I don’t know how else I can show you my appreciation.” He reached up and took Abe’s hat out of his hand and dropped two hundred-dollar bills into it. “It’s a marvelous thing you’re doing.”

  The generous fellow’s contribution started a chain reaction among the regular citizens who were there. In turn, all of the adults and a couple of youngsters put money in Abe’s hat. Then, as if the cops had shown up again and yelled “Disperse”, the whole crowd rushed away leaving Abe and Shorty alone on the platform.

  The Irishman picked up Abe’s hat and held it between them with both hands. “I’m thinkin’ the only fair thing to do would be to split it right down the middle,” he said in a very low voice. He curled his brushy eyebrows and waited to see what Abe’s reaction to the idea might be.

  “What?” Abe answered, which was really a courtesy more than an answer, but Shorty heard it differently.

  “Well,” the little man offered, “when ya get right down to it, I do suppose your share ought to be a bit more. Let’s say sixty-forty. Would that be strikin’ ya more favorably?”

  Abe finally turned his attention away from the course of events and looked at McDougal. “What are you mumbling about?” he asked.

  Shorty put the hat into one of Abe’s hands. “Oh, just ferget it. It’s not important anyhow.”

  “Whatever you say,” Abe agreed, then handed him back the hat. “Here, go do something good with this.”

  “That I can do,” said McDougal. He stuffed the money into a pants pocket. “Would ya be havin’ any needs fer yerself?”

  “No, I can’t think of anything,” Abe said in a distant, drawn out tone. He hesitated for a second, then ask, “ Mr. McDougal?”

  “Huh?”

  “What do you think the Lord really has in mind?”

  “In me own mind, Mr. Douglas, I haven’t got a clue. But I can tell ya, it ‘s nothin’ like the Sisters use to preach about. So, I figure He ain’t plannin’ on doin’ us in or anything. In fact, as ya saw tonight, He’s bein’ awful good to us. I’m thinkin’ the best way fer us to handle this is by not askin’ too many questions, don’t ya see?”

  “You mean just keep doing what we’re doing and see how it works out?”

  “That’s precisely what I mean.”

  Abe nodded. “You’re probably right, Mr. McDougal. How long do we have the okay to use the park?”

  Shorty pulled the paper out of his jacket pocket. “Fer a week,” he said, handing the paper to Abe. They started walking. “I just wanted to tell ya, Mr. Douglas, that was a nice speech ya gave tonight. How’d ya come up with it so fast?”

  Abe shook his head. “Mr. McDougal, I don’t have a clue either. It just came to me as I talked. To tell you the truth, it kind of surprised me too.”

  Horace came out from under the bandstand and loped up beside them, and the three of them, each immersed in their own thoughts, walked slowly towards the Salvation Army Center.