Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [32]
“Weekday evening hours only, eh?” Alejandro had said. “Come back at seven on Monday and I’ll let you know. It won’t be much. Maybe just cleaning up around here.”
“I’ll take anything.”
The only source Brady hadn’t tried for the $200 was Stevie Ray, so he stopped there on his way to the Laundromat.
“What’re you, kidding me?” Stevie said. “If I had two hundred bucks I’d throw a party. We live paycheck to paycheck, and the band barely breaks even. If I had it, I’d loan it to ya, but I don’t.”
Brady trudged to the Laundromat with a tingle up his spine as if he’d been summoned to the principal’s office.
Oldenburg Rural Chapel
“I’ve asked my wife to take the minutes,” Paul said as Patricia followed Thomas and Grace into a small classroom. Paul sat behind a table, flanked by other Oldenburg elders and a representative from each of the other congregations. No one would look him in the eye but Paul, and the outside elders didn’t look happy.
“This joint meeting of the circuit elders shall come to order,” Paul said.
“Excuse me, Pierce,” a man from Colfax said, “but I need to say again that there is no official circuit, thus there can’t be a joint meeting of our elders. This meeting was not announced, and there was no published agenda, so this is nothing but some personal vendetta.”
“Duly noted,” Paul said. “Thank you, Mr. Robert’s Rules of Order. Patricia, please put that in the minutes.”
“If there can’t be a meeting, there can’t be minutes,” the protester said, rising. “I’m not going to be part of this, and, Reverend Carey, if I were you, I’d not subject myself to it either.”
The man stormed out.
“We still have a quorum,” Paul said.
“What’s going on, Paul?” Thomas said.
“All in due time.”
“I’m out of here too,” another said, and he and the two other outsiders left.
“All right, no problem,” Paul said. “Patricia, this is now solely a meeting of the Oldenburg elders, all present and accounted for.”
“Well,” Thomas said, “I am as curious as I can be, but must I remind you that I also am an elder here, and this is the first I’ve known of this meeting?”
“Excuse me, sir,” Paul said, “but you are out of order. For the purposes of this meeting, you are here as the pastor and not as an elder.”
“Um, pardon me, Paul,” a younger elder said, “but officially I’m the secretary. As your wife is not an elder—no offense—shouldn’t I be taking the minutes?”
“Fine,” Paul and Patricia said in unison, and she made a show of slapping her notebook shut and putting away her pencil. But she did not leave.
The other elders looked as if they would rather have been anywhere else.
“Okay,” Paul said, “meeting’s called to order and all that.” He bowed his head and closed his eyes. “Lord, lead us in these difficult talks, and may we do Your will. Amen.” He looked up. “Pastor Tom, we got us a problem.”
The Laundromat
“You bring my money?” Tatlock said.
“No, but I brought a down payment.”
“How much?”
Brady emptied his pocket onto the top of a washing machine and had to catch a stray rolling penny.
Tatlock laughed. “Four bucks and change? You’ve got to be kidding.”
“Listen, Mr. Tatlock, and just hear me out. You’re right, I did steal from you, but I know it was wrong and I’m sorry and I owe you the money. I’ll get it—I swear I will. Thing is, I didn’t even spend it all. I had your money, but now it’s missing.”
“Someone stole the stolen money?”
“That’s right. But I’ll do anything to keep you from calling the cops, because I’m watching out for my little brother, trying to get my grades up so I can stay in the school play, and I’ve already applied for another job. If I get it, the first two hundred is yours, and I mean it.”
“You’re in a school play?”
Tatlock sounded both skeptical and curious, so Brady told him all about it.
“Now you see, Brady, this is the kid I thought I was hiring. You seemed thoughtful and industrious enough. I like that you care about your little brother. And I appreciate your admitting you did wrong. But actions have consequences. I’m not giving you your job back, and I