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Kayla kept us on Highway 11 so we wouldn’t have to backtrack later to avoid the bridge out over the Tennessee River. We made it another hour to the town of Fort Payne, and as we passed the only church in town, the car sputtered, the engine died, and Kayla coasted off the road and into the parking lot.
“Well, so much for getting as far as Chattanooga,” I said.
“We’re out of gas. All we need to do is find a station and we’ll be back up and running,” Kayla answered.
“If I’m not mistaken, there’s one about a half of a mile up the road,” I said.
“Okay. You wait here with the car, and I’ll go get gas. I should be back in a half an hour or so.”
“I could come with you,” I offered.
“You’re going to walk a mile round trip?” Kayla eyed me in disbelief.
“I can do it.”
Kayla got out of the car, walked around to my side, and opened my door.
“Okay, mister. Get your cane and give it a try. You would surprise me if you could make ten feet, let alone the fifty-two hundred it would take for a mile.”
She’d thrown down the challenge, but I thought I was up for the journey, so I swung my legs out and grabbed my cane. Kayla put out a hand to help me from the car, but I pushed it away and lifted myself up, using the door instead. I put the cane in front of me and took a step. I needed to will my body to follow it and once I took that step, I immediately regretted it. My stomach felt like I’d gotten stabbed all over again, my legs were so unsteady I started to shake, and a sweat broke out on my forehead. This time, when Kayla offered her hand, I swallowed my pride and let her guide me back to my seat.
“Okay, how about I wait here in the car, and you go for gas?” I said.
Kayla gave me a smile. “Baker, that’s an excellent plan.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a gas can in the car?”
Kayla looked in the back seat and opened the trunk and checked in there. “Nope. Hopefully, I’ll find one at the station.”
“Take the backpack with you. It would be easier to carry in there. And don’t forget the rifle.”
Kayla nodded. She emptied the backpack onto her seat and grabbed the rifle. “I’ll see if I can find you some water to take your pills with.”
Without another word, Kayla headed up the road, and I watched her until she was out of sight. Then I tried to get comfortable in the car. I rolled down all the windows to let the breeze in, and when that wasn’t enough, I opened all the doors.
Finally comfortable, I dozed. Somewhere in my dreams, I heard a rousing rendition of Amazing Grace being sung, and it got louder as my dream passed on. Wanting the song to end, I opened my eyes and discovered it wasn’t a dream at all. There, directly in front of the car, was a man dressed in black preacher’s robes with long brown hair that reminded me of Jesus. Behind him marched fifteen or twenty people, all singing Amazing Grace, and all headed right toward me. The preacher stopped right next to me, but the song continued until the verse finished and the preacher put a fist in the air to end the tune.
The preacher dropped his fist and raised his other hand in which was a Bible the same color as his robes. “And, lo, I traveled across the desert and there I met a stranger who God sent as an emissary to answer my prayers. What is your name, stranger?”
It took a moment to register that he was speaking to me. “Baker.”
“Baker what?”
“Nothing. Only Baker.”
The preacher turned around to address the congregation. “Friends, we’ve long prayed for a miracle, and the Lord has sent us Baker. Like when Jesus multiplied the loaves to feed those at the Sea of Galilee, another baker will perform a miracle.”
“You must have me confused with someone else. I’m not a miracle worker,” I argued.
“Ah, but you are. When we headed out for our walk this morning, we prayed for a vehicle, and we return and you’ve delivered one to our doorstep.”
“Oh, no. There’s a misunderstanding. We ran out of gas here. My friend went to get some.”
“There’s a misunderstanding, son, but it’s yours. It’s no coincidence that you ran out of gas here. It was God’s will!”
“God’s will!” the congregation repeated.
“You don’t get it. My friend will return soon, and shortly after that, we’ll be out of your parking lot and on our way.”
I made a move to close the door, but the preacher stepped in front of it so I couldn’t achieve my goal. “Would you mind stepping back, sir?”
He leaned forward and laughed in my face. “Step back? No, Mr. Baker. You’re on God’s land here, and we are his children. We won’t step back. Perhaps you should step away.”
“Although I’d love to, I’ve had an accident and can’t walk,” I said, holding up my cane for effect.
“Do you believe in Jesus?” the preacher asked.
“Uh,” I started.
“Jesus believes in you! Lord Jesus will make you walk! Jesus will heal you! Heed my words and rise and walk!”
“Rise and walk! Rise and walk!” the congregation chanted.
“I’m not quite sure that’s the way it works,” I said.
“Son, I’m getting the idea that you’re not quite the man of God you think you are. Now, are you going to make an offering to the Lord’s house?” the preacher asked.
“I’d prefer it if you just left me in peace. Like I said, my friend will be back soon. Then we’ll be on our way.”
“Deacons, come and collect this man’s offering,” the preacher said, ignoring me.
At that point, I’d had enough and brought out the gun I’d been hiding and hoping I wouldn’t have to use.
“Please step away from the car,” I ordered.
A grimace passed over the preacher’s face, and he raised his hands in the air. “You dare pull a gun on one of God’s servants?”
“Step away and we’ll be out of your hair in a bit.”
The preacher lowered his hands and swung the Bible. It hit the side of the 9mm and pushed my forearm into the door frame. I lost my grip, and the gun clattered onto the pavement.
“Deacons. The offerings.”
The preacher stepped aside, and two large black men, wearing matching black suits and white ties, stepped into view. One leaned into the car and plucked me from the seat like I was a five-pound bag of flour. Once out of the car, the two men dragged me several yards from the car, then unceremoniously dropped me on my butt onto the scalding asphalt of the parking lot. I tried to get up, but one man held his hand on my shoulder, keeping me pinned to the ground.
Unable to do anything, I watched as the preacher stepped away from the car and several members of the congregation stepped in to ransack the vehicle like locusts from the eighth plague. Any item deemed of no value they flung from the car, including my maps, the pine tree air freshener that was attached to the rear-view mirror, and another stack of fast-food napkins that fluttered to the ground like dying kites.
After a few minutes, the doors all closed except the driver’s. A dainty white woman in a yellow sundress appeared with a five-gallon gas can she struggled with until a man in overalls took it from her and used it to fill the empty tank while the woman got behind the wheel. Once filled, the man put the can in the trunk, gave a hand signal, and the woman drove the blue Chevy away.
Once the car was out of sight, the congregation headed toward the church and disappeared inside. A shadow fell over me, and I looked up and saw the preacher standing before me with my cane. He handed me the cane and smiled.
“The Lord thanks you for your generosity.”
The deacon holding me down let me go, and the two men headed for the church without so much as an invitation for me to join them.
I sat on the blistering concrete for a few minutes, then got to my knees, and with the help of the cane, got to my feet. I hobbled over to the litter in the parking lot, and from it collected my road maps, which were the only thing of value to me left in the pile. They’d driven off with the rest of the items Kayla had put in the car when she emptied the backpack, including the few survival supplies we had, our satellite phones, all of Kayla’s stuff, and the extra ammo. I looked around for my gun, but that was gone, too. I was lucky I’d stashed the pills the doctor had given me in my pocket and that they hadn’t bothered to search me.
Not wanting to hang around the church, I crossed the street and lumbered down the road. My pace seemed slow because it was. Minute after minute ticked by, and every time I turned around, I could still see the church’s steeple. When it at last slipped from view, I spotted a large tree ahead and angled for it. Once there, I collapsed on the grass underneath the shade. I was sweating profusely, my body ached, and I didn’t think I could manage another step. In all, I’d traveled about three blocks at an average speed of a block every seven minutes.
I waited with my back to the tree, and ten minutes later, Kayla appeared on the other side of the street. She must have been deep in thought because she never saw me, and it wasn’t until I whistled at her she noticed me, crossed the highway, and joined me under the tree.
“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with the car?” she asked when she got close enough.
“Would you believe I got carjacked by a preacher?”
“No shit?”
I nodded.
“Damn. Not cool. Especially considering all the trouble we experienced in stealing it in the first place.”
Kayla placed the backpack on the ground and sat. “Are you okay? You don’t look well.”
“I thought it best to get away from there. You find any gas?”
Kayla opened the backpack and dumped out the contents. “Plenty of gas, but all I found was this for a container.” She pointed at an old two-liter bottle filled with an amber colored liquid. There were several mini bottles of water on the ground, and she took one, opened it, and handed it to me.
“Drink,” she said. “I also have a treat for us.”
From her pocket, she extracted a Twix bar. She opened the chocolate and gave me half of it. It was a little stale and partially melted, but still delicious. When I finished it, I licked my fingers clean and drank the water.
“What next?” I asked.
Kayla thought for a minute, then sighed. “Well, either I venture off by myself and try to find another vehicle, or we keep heading north and hope we come across a new ride. Or we can find someplace to hold up until you’re able to move better. Maybe we can at least find some bikes.”
“Let’s keep moving,” I said. “I’d like to get out of this town as soon as possible. I’ll push myself as much as I can.”
“No, you won’t. Let’s take it easy. When you need a break, we’ll stop. We’re in no hurry.”
We sat for a few more minutes, then Kayla helped me to my feet and we resumed our journey. It hurt like hell, but I pushed on, slowly at first, then slower when I quickly tired and the pain in my abdomen became my primary focus. We would walk for ten minutes before Kayla would force me to sit and rest for a while. Eventually, the ten minutes became seven, and that shortened to five. After one final push and lots of encouragement, we at last made it to the gas station and convenience store from which Kayla had retrieved the gas hours before. The inside of the store was gutted, but Kayla found a folding chair behind the counter for me to sit on. She let me rest while she explored the property.
A few minutes later, she popped back into the store and grinned at me. “Come on outside. I found the solution to our problem.”
I followed her out the door and looked at what she’d found.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“It’s a cart thing. I found it in the storage room.” I looked over the large blue plastic bin. It stood about three feet high and long, and a couple of feet wide.
“What are we supposed to do with that?” I asked.
“You get in, and I push it. At least until we find something better.”
“You want me to lie in there like I’m a pile of laundry, and you’re going to push me up the highway in it?”
Kayla smiled and nodded.
“No way. I couldn’t fit in there, and if I did, I’d be so uncomfortable I wouldn’t be able to stand it for long.”
Kayla looked at me, then at the bin. She snapped her fingers, then headed into the store and came back with the folding chair. She placed it inside the bin. It just fit and left enough room in there for me.
“Get in,” she said.
It took some effort and Kayla’s help, but I got into the bin and sat on the chair.
“I look ridiculous,” I said.
“Yeah, but how’s the comfort?” she asked.
“Not too bad,” I admitted.
“Okay, hold on. Here we go.”
Kayla took off the pack and put it in the bin with me and handed me the rifle. She got behind me, and with a grunt and a big push, we were rolling. She pushed me without complaint along that Alabama highway for two hours, and when she couldn’t go anymore, we found a small, abandoned farmhouse. The driveway was stone, so Kayla helped me out of the cart and guided me to the door. We broke in and bunked down for the night.
The next morning, I woke with sunlight streaming through the window and onto my face.
“Kayla?”
A moment later, she appeared with a bottle of water and a plastic bowl full of cherries.
“Do you like fresh cherries?” she asked.
“I do. Do you?”
“I love them. There was a tree out back, so get ready for a great breakfast.”
She joined me on the couch and handed me the water. “Take your antibiotic.”
Without arguing, I complied as she started in on the cherries. Once I’d washed down the pill, I joined her. I put a cherry in my mouth, then careful to avoid the pit, I bit to the side of it. I rolled my eyes when the juice exploded from the fruit. Carefully, I turned the cherry in my mouth, ate around the pit, then spit the pit into my hand.
“Okay. That’s gross,” Kayla said.
“How are you supposed to eat a cherry?” I asked.
“Like this.”
Kayla selected a cherry from the bowl, held it with two fingers, then nibbled her way around the fruit like a squirrel might do. When she finished, she held the pit up for me to see.
“You still have flesh on there,” I argued. “My way is more efficient.”
“But what will you do with your pit?” she asked.
“Don’t know. What are you going to do with yours? It seems we had different techniques but ended up with the same problem.”
“Hold this.” Without waiting for an answer, Kayla dropped her pit in my palm, went to the kitchen, and returned with a gravy boat etched with a cornucopia on the side.
“Fancy.” I said as I dropped both pits into the boat.
Together, we attacked the bowl of cherries and quickly emptied the contents.
“How are you feeling?” Kayla asked.
“About the same as yesterday, except I’m stiff from sleeping on this couch all night.”
“We could stay here for a few days until you’re feeling better. Would you be up for that?”
“To be honest, I’d like to go. I’m tired of being on the road, and I’d like to be at home sleeping in my own bed. But since you have to do all the hard work, I’m going to leave it up to you.”
“Okay, Baker. I’m going to go refill this bowl, so we have a snack while on the road. Why don’t you scavenge around the house and see if there’s anything useful for us?”
Kayla left the house and left me to wander around. My first stop was to the bathroom where I used the facilities. It pleased me to see my urine had no trace of blood in it, although I could tell by the smell and color that I needed more water. Afterward, I explored from room to room looking for things to take with us. I found a couple of pillows and extra pillowcases to use as sacks. In the bathroom I found a fully stocked medicine cabinet and from there selected a full bottle of aspirin, a bottle of multi-vitamins, and a tube of cinnamon-flavored toothpaste still in its box. I threw all those items in a pillowcase and moved on to the next room. In the main bedroom, I found three men’s shirts that could fit either of us, and an unopened package of men’s socks.
By the time I made it back to the living room, there were two Tupperware bowls with covers filled with cherries. Next to those was a gallon-sized plastic bag filled with cutlery, a manual can opener, three plastic cups, a small cooking pot with a lid, and a metal teapot. Everything except the bowls of cherries I loaded into one of the empty pillowcases. Then I sat on the couch and waited for Kayla.
She surprised me when she entered from the front door and not the rear.
“You ready? I’ve got a big surprise for you.”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” I grabbed my cane and one pillowcase. Kayla grabbed the rest, and we left the house.
Kayla surprised me all right. Waiting just outside the front door was a horse hitched to a small wagon.
“Oh, my, he’s beautiful,” I said. I set my pillowcase down and stepped down from the porch and approached the animal. The horse was chestnut from nose to tail, except for a patch of white on the nose. “Where did you find him?”
“First off, he’s a her. There’s a barn out in the back forty and she was in her stall.”
“Someone took off and just left her here? That’s so cruel.”
“The doors to the stall and barn were wide open. I expect they set her free, and she just came back. You ready to ride in style?”
I looked at the wagon. “Seems too high for me. I’m not sure I can get up there.”
“No problem. I got that covered,” Kayla said as she walked to the back. “I think they used this thing for hayrides.”
She pulled out a stepladder and set it next to the wagon. She guided me up, and got me settled in the seat, then she returned the ladder to the back and stowed all of our items in the wagon.
Once everything was together, she hopped up and took the reins.
“You sure you can handle this thing?” I asked.
“Of course. Like I said before, I’m from Texas.”
