The Shining Badge (30 page)

“Oh no, some of them we almost never sing. Some we sing almost every week.”

The service continued with spirited singing, an offering
was taken, and finally the minister rose. “He looks a little bit like Abraham Lincoln,” Clay said.

“I always thought that. He’s a wonderful preacher. I was kind of sweet on him when we first moved here. He was such a help to us.”

“He’s married, isn’t he?”

“His wife died not too long ago. He’s trying to raise his two children by himself. All the women of the church are going crazy trying to find him a wife. Lots of candidates.”

“But not you?”

Jenny turned and smiled at him. When she smiled her eyes crinkled, and she shook her head. “I’d be a terrible preacher’s wife. Almost as bad as I am at being sheriff.”

Devoe Crutchfield had a fine voice for preaching, and he obviously loved to preach. He looked out over the congregation, smiled, welcomed the visitors, then said, “This morning my message will be taken from the eighth chapter of Matthew. We’ll read verses twenty-three to twenty-seven together.”

Jenny leaned over with her Bible open to the place, and Clay mumbled along as they read together.

Crutchfield looked out over the congregation and smiled, saying, “The subject of my message this morning is ‘When Jesus Goes to Sleep.’ I know that sounds like a strange sermon
title, but obviously Jesus
did
sleep. There are two mistaken assumptions often made about Jesus—one that He is God only and not man at all. That error has been around the church for a long time. The other is looking only at the human side of Jesus and forgetting that He’s the one who made the universe and is in charge of it.”

Clay listened as Crutchfield went on. He had been expecting a dull sermon, but Crutchfield skillfully drew a picture of the storm that came. He was a good preacher, and he came at once to his point. “The disciples were probably just about folks like us. When they got caught in a storm they got panicky. And when people get panicky, they look outside themselves. And where did the disciples look? Up to the front of the boat where Jesus was asleep. Now, you must remember that they had seen Him feed five thousand people with just a few fish and a few loaves. They had seen Him lay His hand on a leper eaten up with that horrible disease, and the flesh had become as fresh as a newborn baby’s. They had seen Him do miracles of all sorts, but now when their need was great, He was asleep.”

Crutchfield leaned forward and looked out over the congregation. Suddenly Clay realized he was looking straight at him, or so it seemed, and he felt exposed. “Have you ever felt like that? You’re caught in a storm, you can’t help yourself, and after you’ve tried everything to get yourself out of it, you suddenly know that no one but God could do that. We’ve all been there, haven’t we?”

Clay remembered back when Jamie’s father had died, and he had felt exactly like that—alone, helpless. Crutchfield’s next words struck at him.

“Most of us at one time or another have been caught in a tragedy, in a terrible problem, something we couldn’t handle ourselves—and when we called to God, it felt as though there were no one there.”

Why, that’s exactly what happened to me,
Varek thought. He glanced down at Jamie, who was coloring a sheet of paper
with a blue crayon that she had brought from Sunday school and thought how desperate he had been to help this child. But at the time there seemed to be no one to help him, just as Crutchfield had said.

The sermon proceeded, and finally Crutchfield spoke of how many things can happen to destroy lives. “And it’s natural for us to call upon God, and we get disturbed when God doesn’t answer at once.

“I suppose the disciples must have been upset with Jesus. They were in terrible trouble, and there He was sleeping. But however it seemed to them, they were in no danger, and I’ll give you one good reason. There was no danger that that boat would sink because Jesus was in it. He had come to this world to die for the sins of every man and woman and child, and God the Father was not going to let Him perish in a storm until His mission was fulfilled. And I’d like to suggest to you this morning, friends, that it’s a wise thing for you to ask Jesus into your boat. Sooner or later you’re going to hit a storm, and you’re going to face death and sickness and problems you can’t handle. But if Jesus is in the boat with you, you can do what these disciples did. Look what the Scripture says. ‘His disciples came to Him and awoke Him, saying, ‘Lord, save us. We perish.’ ”

Crutchfield closed his Bible and looked out over the congregation. “Every sermon ends the same, in this church at least. You will notice that every time I preach I wind up at this point right here. All of us are helpless, and only Jesus can help. Some of you have had Jesus in the boat with you for fifty years or even longer. Some of you have had Him only a few weeks or months. Some of you,” he said quietly, “don’t have Jesus in your boat at all. He’s not part of your life, and I would urge you to think of this. When the storm comes, what will you do then? The disciples woke Jesus, and the Scripture says He arose and He simply rebuked the waves, and the storm became a great calm. That’s my message today,” Crutchfield said, nodding. “And I’m going to give
those of you who do not have Jesus in your boat—that is to say, in your life—a chance to get Him in there. He’s waiting and always has been for you to invite Him in. We’re going to stand together and sing ‘Just As I Am,’ and as we sing, I would urge you to come just as you are and let Jesus Christ be your savior.”

By this time Jamie had gone to sleep in Clay’s arms. He stood up carefully, and she snuggled next to him. He looked down at her face as the congregation began to sing, and the song moved him strangely.

He noticed that three people went forward and that Crutchfield prayed with each of them. After the invitation was over, the minister said, “We’re glad that these have found Christ and are coming to follow Him in baptism.”

After a closing prayer, the congregation began to move out, and the murmuring sound of voices filled the auditorium. As they passed out the door, Jenny said to Reverend Crutchfield, “I don’t know if you’ve met my new deputy, Brother Crutchfield. This is Clay Varek and his daughter, Jamie.”

Varek shifted Jamie into one arm and took Crutchfield’s hand, and the preacher’s smile was warm. “Glad to have you with us. I hope you’ll come back.”

“I’ll do that, Reverend.”

Clay walked out to the squad car, opened the door, and got in, Jamie not stirring. Jenny started the car and pulled out from the curb. “Did you like the sermon?”

“Yes, I did. I liked the preacher too. He seems like an upfront guy.”

“He really is. He’s a good preacher, but he’s a good pastor too. Every time there’s trouble or sickness, you’ll find him
right there.” Clay did not answer, and finally Jenny turned and glanced at him. “You never thought of giving your heart to the Lord Jesus?”

Clay found it difficult to respond. He had grown up with almost no Christian influence. His parents had never gone to church, and to him Christmas was simply a time when you decorated a tree and exchanged presents. Easter was the time for chocolate Easter eggs. He had known many who claimed to be Christian, and many of them had not been much in his estimation. Jenny’s question bothered him, and he finally said, “No, I haven’t.”

Jenny swerved to avoid the body of a raccoon that had not made it. When she brought the car back on the right side of the road, she said, “You ought to do that, Clay.”

Clay Varek could think of no answer. He had been moved by the sermon, and even the hymns had spoken to him. But he only said, “I don’t think it would work, Jenny . . . not for me.”

Jenny said no more, but when they reached Clay’s house she said suddenly, “Look, there’s Hooey.”

“Wonder what he’s doing here? I told him not to contact us in public.”

Jenny stopped the car, and when they got out, Hooey came over to them. He was wearing overalls and a straw hat pulled down over his face. “Howdy,” he said.

“Hooey, I told you not to come and not to be seen with us.”

“Ain’t nobody seen me, Sheriff, but I had to get word to you right now.”

“What’s going on?” Clay said quickly. Jamie was beginning to stir in his arms, and he shifted her while he watched the smaller man.

“Well, I been doin’ a little tradin’ with them Yankee fellows that came down to buy shine.”

“You’ve actually met them?” Jenny said.

“Oh, they ain’t hard to meet if you know where to look. They been tryin’ to get me on their list for some time, but I didn’t want to sell no shine myself. Just drink it a little bit. But
I tell you what. They’re a tough bunch, Sheriff. If you gonna hang their hide on the fence, you’d better be plumb careful.”

“I will, but why’d you come, Hooey?”

Hooey laughed and pulled his hat off. “I come to tell you that your deputies come around after I sold the stuff and told me that I was gonna need some protection.”

“Protection! From what?”

“From gettin’ arrested, I expect. They come to tell me that I was gonna have to pay ’em off or they’d arrest me.”

“They knew you had the moonshine?”

“Knowed it! I reckon they did. It didn’t take long for ’em to get to me either, right after I sold the shine to them Yankee fellers. About as long as Pat stayed in the army, I reckon.”

“Did you give them the money?” Jenny demanded, her eyes narrowing. She was angry clear through. From the beginning she had suspected Arp and Pender of being poor officers, but to think that they were actually joined with the people they were supposed to be arresting infuriated her.

“Nope, I told ’em I’d give it to ’em tomorrow.”

“Where you gonna pay ’em off?”

“Why, they said they’d come back to my place. Ain’t that a pretty come-off? Deputies takin’ money from criminals like me! Wouldn’t that cock your pistol?”

“We’ve got a lot to do before tomorrow,” Clay said. “We’ve got to have hard evidence on them.”

“You tell me what to do, Clay, and we’ll do it.”

“All right. We’ll set it up. We’ll set a trap for them.”

“Well, we’d better be careful. They’re sly as foxes, them two.”

“There’s a way”—Clay smiled grimly—”and I’ll tell you what it is. . . .”

****

“You got the money, Hooey?”

Hooey had come outside of his house and was standing
loose-jointed staring at the two deputies. He grinned and said, “And what if I don’t pay you fellers off?”

“Aw, come on, you know what’d happen,” Arp said. He pulled his belt up and touched his nightstick. “We’d have to whip you a bit and then take you in for sellin’ illegal alcohol.”

“Let’s get this over with,” Arlie Pender said. “Give us the money.”

“Come on inside. Might even give you fellers a sample of my merchandise. I keep the money hid in there.”

He turned and went into the shack, and Pender followed him. Hooey marched over to the table, which sat in the center of the room, and patted the jug. “This here’s fine moonshine,” he said. “Goes down right smooth.” He found three glasses, filled them up, and handed one to each deputy. He picked up his own glass and said, “Here’s to crime.”

Pender laughed roughly. “I’ll drink to that,” he said. The three men drank, and Pender shuddered as the alcohol hit his stomach. “That ain’t bad stuff,” he said, “but I’ll have to confiscate that jug.”

“Now, give us the money.”

Hooey shook his head. “You fellers are a caution. You makin’ two livin’s—one upholdin’ the law and one breakin’ it. I wish I could get in on that.”

“This Prohibition ain’t nothin’ anyway,” Arlie Pender snorted. “It’ll be voted out pretty soon.”

“Well, that’d put me out of work and a lot of other folks.” Hooey went over to a battered chest of drawers, opened the bottom drawer, and fumbled through what seemed to be a rat’s nest of old clothes. He came out with a tin box, turned to the two deputies, and opened it. “You fellers are hittin’ me pretty hard,” he said, getting out some bills. “Cain’t you shave the price a little?”

“Come on, Hooey, give us the money,” Pender snapped. He reached out, took the bills, divided them, and gave half to Arp. “We’ll be comin’ round to collect again pretty soon.”

“Don’t it hurt your feelin’s takin’ money for lookin’ the other way while us criminals sell shine?” Hooey grinned.

“Well, not a bit. You have the money ready.”

“What about that female sheriff? What if she takes a notion to raid me?”

“Don’t worry about that. We know every time there’s a raid gonna take place. We’ll get word to you, and you can clear everything out,” Arp said.

“Okay, be sure you do.”

“Come on, let’s go, Merle.” Arlie Pender turned, and Merle Arp followed him. They stepped outside the door and headed down the road toward where they’d parked the squad car. They had not gone more than five steps, however, when a voice hit them hard. “Stop right where you are! Get your hands up!”

Both deputies whirled to see Billy Moon and Clay Varek both holding shotguns at ready position.

“Hey, what is this?” Pender said. “What are you guys doin’?”

“You’re under arrest. Don’t move your hands. Billy, take their weapons.”

The two deputies began to sputter. “You gone crazy, Varek? You can’t do this to officers of the law.”

“Moon, take their billfolds. Shake them down.”

“Be glad to, Deputy Varek.” Moon grinned and pulled out the wallets of the two. He opened both of them up and said, “I didn’t know you fellows were so rich. Look at this money.”