The Impossible Cure

My friend Ben used to watch old Lewis hobble along the sidewalk of the downtown square back in Enid, Oklahoma. Lewis always had his crutches, one under each arm, and he literally dragged his legs and feet along as he pivoted the crutches back and forth. He had gotten really good at it. Ben had seen him going along without missing a beat even when the streets and sidewalks were covered with a layer of ice.

     Ben never knew how Lewis became crippled, and he could not remember a time when Lewis was not using his crutches. His imagination led him down many paths: polio, a car wreck, thrown from a horse, a war injury, plane crash … Ben never knew. He had only heard it could not be fixed. Lewis would always be hopelessly crippled.  Ben had to admire his spirit, though. He’d often whistle as he swung himself along and nearly always had a smile to share when anyone passed him on the street.

     One evening, Ben was having a Coke with Uncle Charlie who was having something a little stronger. Uncle Charlie was himself a fixture in town: red close-cropped hair in a flat top, and a huge red handlebar mustache that he kept neatly waxed and curled up at the ends. Ben and Charlie were not really related, but Ben, along with everyone else, called him Uncle Charlie. Ben thought he was kind of like that strange uncle every family seemed to have.

     So, Uncle Charlie took a long drink of his adult beverage and ordered another one. Ben didn’t know how many he had finished before Ben got there, but Uncle Charlie did like to operate from a higher place than most people.

     “Hey, did I tell you what happened to Lewis?”

     Suddenly, Ben’s heart sank. Had something happened to Lewis? “No … what?”

     Uncle Charlie wiped the beer foam from the bottom of his mustache. “I saw him the other evening out at the big tent revival, you know, up there on that vacant lot at the north end of town. Some traveling preacher came into town and put up a big tent. The preacher claimed that God talks to him personally and tells him to travel around and spread His word. Says God gave him the power to heal just by placing his hands on people of faith, and all he asks of them is donations to keep him going. There were a lot of people there, and old Lewis was one of them.”

     “I never knew Lewis was particularly religious,”  Ben said, “and I thought he had long given up any thought of ever walking again.”

     “Well, Lewis was there nonetheless, a lot of people were, the place was packed. It was a warm night and the preacher was really wound up. I’m telling you, he had the people standing up and shouting out praises right along with him. And then he got to the healing part. Lewis was standing with a crutch under each arm yelling just about as loud as everyone else. The preacher spotted Lewis in the crowd and came right down off the little stage he’d set up and walked right over to him.” Uncle Charlie took another drink and continued.

     “That preacher had already taken off his coat, and he was sweating and swinging his arms around and practically shouting at the top of his lungs. He stopped directly in front of Lewis and slapped his right hand firmly down on the top of his head, almost knocking him over.

     “Do you believe?” the preacher shouted to Lewis. “Do you believe that the Lord God Almighty gave me the power to heal you?”

     “Lewis started shaking. The preacher asked the audience to join him in calling up the power. He pressed down harder on the top of Lewis’s head.”

     “If you truly believe that God gave me this power, you will be healed! You will walk again! I command you now, be healed!”

     Uncle Charlie went on. “He took the crutch from under Lewis’s right arm, held it high in the air, and then tossed it into the crowd. The place went wild. Women and men were weeping and raising their arms and shouting praises. Lewis was staring straight ahead in disbelief.”

     “Then the preacher, with his hand still on Lewis’s head, again shouted, ‘God told me to heal you … be healed!’ and took the crutch from under Lewis’s left arm, held it in the air and threw it nearly to the back of the crowd in the tent. Again, the crowd went crazy, more so than before. It was truly a sight to see; I’ll never forget it as long as I live.” Uncle Charlie took another long drink of his beverage and then carefully wiped the foam from his mustache as before.

     Ben couldn’t wait any longer to hear the rest. “What happened next, Uncle Charlie?”

     Uncle Charlie gave the tip of his red mustache a little twist and turned right to Ben. “Well, Lewis fell on his ass. He’s crippled you know.”

From the book "Twisted by the Wind" by Tom Hays

Story Two of a Trilogy entitled "316 East Boulevard - "Beulah's Curse"

"BEULAH'S CURSE"
A fiction noir novella by Tom Hays,

The Civil War had just begun. Young plantation slave Ahracee had a dream that one day he would be able to put down his hoe and shovel and do something more with his life. Ahracee thought to himself that watching, learning, picking up skills beyond the job he was assigned, and making himself more valuable as a human being, were the keys to success.

Ahracee’s young girlfriend Sheika supposed that one day she would convince Ahracee to marry her. But life sometimes takes strange turns.

Ahracee left the plantation to join the Union Army.  Enter Beulah, and her black magic. 

The first novella in the trilogy "316 East Boulevard" is titled "There Were Several Ladies Present". "Beulah's Curse" is the prequel to that story.

• ISBN-10: 0692710469
• ISBN-13: 978-0692710463
• Click for more information  Beulah's Curse

Minister vs. Preacher

From the book Twisted by the Wind by Tom Hays

I don't know where this “ministry” will eventually lead.  I only know that I have a calling, and I have to follow … wherever it leads.  Presently, I feel it is to provide enlightenment and encouragement to others around me; to somehow have a positive influence on their daily life, to open doors of understanding, and compassion.

It is not important to me what your particular religious or spiritual beliefs are, nor do I want to make you believe mine.  The important thing is we both have them, and there are probably many more similarities than differences.  I happen to feel that a superior power, known by many names, including God, resides within us and can be called upon at any time. 

To me, being a good or "Christian" person is not so much about "talking the talk" as it is about "walking the walk".  It is a way to live life, some variation of the golden rule, wherein we live in such a way that we treat others the way they would like to be treated ... and to not let them change us when they don't do the same for us.

My prayer is to be able to find ways to live a better life, with more kindness, more compassion, more understanding, more fulfillment and more smiles.  I ask the Great Spirit for those things, for me, and for you.

- Reverend Tom -

Ben Had the Music Up Loud

From an upcoming new book by Tom Hays

    Ben had been alone in a monastery for five years and back home in Oklahoma only a short while when he decided to move to Arizona.  He liked the desert.  He liked the mysticism of the people who had inhabited the place before, way before, who lived in caves and crude dwellings but had somehow figured out how to live on the harsh land and get along with the spirits and powers that inhabited the area along with them.  Thousands of years of human history laid bare, open to discovery and study.

The good vibes, given off by the rocks, the soil and the spirits of the ancients, filled the desert air.  Ben felt them calling him, and he and his soul mate settled in and started calling it home.

Home was a pueblo style, adobe house in a sparse desert suburban area.  A large area had been cleared for a patio, surrounded by a low adobe wall, high enough to perhaps keep the javelinas out but the more agile coyotes could come and go at will.  Ben had seen them walking atop six foot walls, so he knew any attempt to keep them out was futile.

Tonight was a dinner party with two other couples, good friends with an equal love for the desert, its plants and folklore.  Never mind that the days had been running 109 to 112, it was summer and expected.  Ben was in a good mood and looking forward to the get together.  He had volunteered to make the homemade Mexican vanilla ice cream, grill the pork tenderloin and prepare his famous salsa to serve over the sliced meat.  Life was good.

Ben had the music up loud, grooving on Steely Dan’s phenomenal bass licks.  Even Albert the cat was tapping his paw in time with the beat, eyes closed and laying next to the stone fireplace. There was harmony playing nearby, the sounds of the ice cream maker churning away in the background, just outside the patio door, seemed to compliment the music, as if it too was coming from the sound system.  The tenderloin had been seasoned with the rub and it was anticipating placement on the outdoor grill, and the vegetables were carefully chopped and marinating in the salsa bowl.  Ben was looking forward to a fun evening with friends, unlike the five years of silent aloneness in the monastery. Company was coming, people to talk and laugh with, everything was perfect and Ben’s mood was building higher and higher.

Suddenly, a shot! Then another--and another in quick succession!

Ben quickly turned to face the noise only to see ………. !!!

Tune in next time.