…of all the lies that man has lied
The worst is, “God is on our side.”…Monroe D. Underwood
The morning bus to Radish River was crowded and smoky.
It lurched southward on narrow roads winding through the circus hues of young autumn.
We made numerous crossroads stops.
Eventually we picked up a sedate sandy-haired bespectacled gentleman who carried an enormous white-leather Bible.
It had gilt-edged pages and a gold cross on its front.
He paid his fare and looked for a seat.
He had two choices.
Next to a fat woman who had launched an audible all-out attack on a huge red apple.
Or next to me.
He sat next to me.
A mile out of Radish River he said hallelujah!
I didn’t say anything.
That stopped him stone cold.
For about ten seconds.
He looked me over.
He said brother have you been washed in the blood?
I shrugged.
I said not really.
I said this suit always looks that way.
There was a half-mile pause.
He said are you going to the game tonight?
I said what game?
He said oh Heavenly Father what do you mean what game?
I said what do you mean oh Heavenly Father what do I mean what game?
I said I’m from Chicago.
He said I refer of course to tonight’s football contest between Radish River and Cranberry Creek.
I shrugged.
I said well from what I hear Radish River doesn’t have much to holler about.
He said it’s the coaching.
He said Suicide Lewisite couldn’t coach cows to eat corn.
His hands had begun to tremble slightly.
His eyes had grown hot.
His voice shook.
He raised a bony forefinger.
He said but God is on our side!
He said triumph will be ours in the final accounting!
He said we will shred their unholy carcasses!
He said we shall savor the sweet fruits of victory!
He hauled out a handkerchief and wiped perspiration from his brow.
He was twitching.
He said in Radish River we take our football very seriously.