Fiction Friday: Pastor John's White Leather Seats

Welcome to Fiction Friday. My story was written for the Faithwriters Writing Challenge when the topic was "actions speak louder than words". It's an all dialogue piece, but I think the reader can easily distinguish WHO is being duplicitous. *smile* Thanks for reading, and for more great fiction, head over to Sara's Fiction Fusion.

Pastor John's White Leather Seats
©by Dee Yoder


“Well, well, my congregation knows a good man when they see one.”

“Uh huh.”

“I took Bobby Joe on over to his lot, and when he showed me that nice red Cadillac with those white leather seats, whoop boy! That just reminded me of what Heaven is all about.”

“Right.”

“I says to him, I says…’Bobby, now yonder sits the kind of ride a preacher deeserves’. Know what I mean, Sister?”

“Uh huh.”

“And then, ol’ Bobby, he just takes his big ol’ black marker, he does, an’ he just-phhht! Like that! Marks that red beauty ‘SOLD’. Hands me the keys, he does.”

“Hmmm.”

“Did you HEAR me, sister?”

“I heard you.”

“Ain’t that just the way the Lord works?”

“Uh…”

“Well, ain’t it?”

“I don’t know…”

“What d’you mean? He says, now, don’t He…He gives us the desires of our hearts…an’ boy howdy! I desired that good lookin’ ride, and He moved on Bobby Joe’s spirit to give it to me. Ain’t the Lord goooood? And I mean extry good.”

“I don’t know…it doesn’t seem to me that that’s exactly what the Lord meant.”

“What? You a little jealous, eh?”

“No, I’m not jealous, not in the least. It’s just…”

“Well, never mind. I plan to turn heads come Sunday mornin’ when this ol’ preacher boy rides on inta church!”

“Don’t you wonder, though, what some of the folks might be thinking-?”

“Thinkin’? I ain’t done nothin’ wrong, and the Good Book says the laborer is worthy of his hire, don’t it?”

“Well, again, it’s a matter for interpretation.”

“Interpretation? You sure do worry a lot; you know that? I wouldn’t do nothin’ the Lord wouldn’t want me to.”

“I have second thoughts about this though--wait. There’s the phone.”

“Who izzit? Don’t wave me off! Who’s callin’?”

“It’s Mrs. Peterson.”

“Mrs. Peterson? I ain’t here! Ha-ha.”

“She’d like you to come by and pick up her son for Sunday School this week. She’s sick and says he’s trying to win the prize for perfect attendance.”

“What? In my new car? Why, that kid don’t know which way is up, much less where the bathroom is-he wears them diapers. Don’t you shush me! I’m the senior pastor here!”

“Well, she’ll hear you-”

“Gimme that phone.”

“Please, be kind…you know how much her boy means to her.”

“Yeah, yeah…go on over there and let me handle this. Uh…Sister Peterson? This here’s Pastor John. Uh huh…I’m fine, fine. Now about this Sunday…ya see, I’m goin’ to be bringin’ the new State Superintendent. An’ I’m sorry, but there’s just not goin’ ta be any room in my car. Understand? Uh huh. Well, I was sure you would, Sister. Right. You tell little ol’ Tommy that Pastor’s sure sorry. Uh huh. You have a great day, too, sister. Bubbye now.”

“You didn’t tell her the truth!”

“A little white lie won’t hurt her none. It’s better’n tellin’ her about that kid of hers, isn’t it? Don’t look at me like that! I got to study my sermon. Go on and get those bulletins stapled together.”

“Your sermon outline is on your desk.”

“Fine. Fine. You’re ‘bout the best secretary I ever did have, you know that? Hey, wait a minute…what’s that sentence there at the top of the page?”

“It’s from Ezekiel 34. That part says, ‘…Woe to the shepherds of Israel who only take care of themselves*…’”

“My, my. Them Israelites just never did get the message, did they? Tsk. Tsk. Well, ought to be a mighty good sermon this Sunday! Could even get that old skinflint Taylor to let loosa his money. Yessirree. Go on and get your work done, now. I’ll be in my office. And, Sister Grant?”

“Yes?”

“Hold my calls. Cain’t afford to be interrupted while I’m writin’ my sermon, now can I?”

“Right. Can’t afford that.”