I had misgivings from the start about working with Jesse.
I never much had use for religion but he did and said some things that just blew me away—but more importantly, he had something about him that drew me to him.
James calls it charisma, whatever that is.
All I know is Jesse helps people and that makes me feel good about myself.
The three of us have been travelling around the country, mainly in small towns, and mostly just being mentored by him. I don’t know why he chose us because neither of really understands half of what he says, but there’s no doubt about what he does.
The guy’s a miracle worker and ebverywhere we go the crowds get bigger and bigger.
Turns out that not everybody is happy with what we do.
We get the most flack from religious folk who think Jesse is using some kind of witchcraft but that’s not the case.
Sometimes I think these people are jealous because a lot of the time their churches are empty except for special occasions while we need local police to control crowds.
I guess whaever Jesse is saying and doing rings truer with them than what the chuch lords want, which seems to me to be money and power—but what do I know?
All I see I ordinary folk being heard and helped and Jesse never asks for a cent and never turns down anyone, rich or poor.
And now we’re in this tiny burg where the mayor wants us out and the local Reverend resents us as well, but secretly comes round at night to keep an eye on us.
I know he wants something else as well, but is too proud to say it out loud.
Funny thing is, his last name is Smiley…yeah, and he’s anything but—more like he wants us gone but not before he gets what he wants.
Today is Sunday but Jesse tells us to take the day off—out of respect, I figure, cause he doesn’t want tp piss anyone off.
But the Reverend doesn’t care and Jesse’s respect doesn’t affect him one bit. He hates our guts.
Anyway, the following day, the entire town turns out. The meeting tent was filled to overflowing and people waited with an air of patient expectation.
Just after Noon, Jesse appeared on stage and began to speak quietly, in a normal conversational voice, but the hush seemed to magnify it like a loudspeaker and broadcast it to every corner of the town.
People he never met, perfect strangers, he greeted by name and revealed the secrets of their hearts. Everyone who opened up to him went away healed of disease and every emotional and spiritual infirmity.
One by one the townsfolk left the tent, tears of joy streaming down their faces. Until there was only one left—Reverend Smiley.
Finally, he too came forward.
Jesse sent James and I outside the tent while he talked with the Reverend.
“What do you want?” Jesse asked.
The Reverend seemed engaged in some inner struggle, but finally spoke.
“Yesterday at noon, I told you my son is at university in Kansas, ill with pneumonia—Were you able to cure him?”
“I was,” Jesse said.
The Reverend nodded and walked away.
He approached the Sheriff and gave him a sign.
The deputies set the tent ablaze.
In ten minutes it was all over. The plague had been purged. Jesse was dead.
The Reverend and the Sheriff looked on with satisfaction.
Job well done, My People, the Lord spoke to their hearts.
Some church members brought the Reverend the news. They told him his son had recovered from his disease.
He smiled contentedly.
Then he inquired of them the hour when he got better. And they said to him, "Yesterday at the seventh hour the fever left him”
Yep, job well done! Everyone got what they wanted...
but not what they needed, and the town moved on.
