Chapter 30

Special deelivery

 Same bus. Same road. Same driver making the same jarring

  stop raising the same cloud of dust. This time however, he waited

  for the dust to settle and clear before opening the door.

     “Thank You William. I shall send a note to your company

  telling them what a fine and courteous driver you are. I am

  grateful to you.” a wholesome woman told Bill the driver as he

  closed the hatch to the belly of the bus having given this woman

  her one piece of luggage. 

     “Well you are entirely welcome ma'am and I am entirely sorry

  as I can be for not being able to drive you all the way into town

  but if I get stuck in a rut again on that road  the folks on the bus

  might be stayin the night and my employers would not be

  amused, you betcha.” Bill said hat in hand.

     “Bless your heart William. You go right along now and I'll be

  fine. Folks from around here are composed of tougher stuff and

  I'd say the walk will do me good. Come Sunday, I will thank the

  Lord for letting me know you. Git now.”

      She wore sensible shoes. A slight heel but amply good for

  walking the almost paved terrain. She stopped and read the

  Ardensville sign and wondered.                        

      Uprighting her luggage and pulling out the handle so it

  became a wheeled thing, now began the walk into the town of 

  Ardensville. A broad brimmed floppy hat provided some

  protection from the sun and the long walk proceeded.

       A mile or so along, the visitor heard a vehicle coming up

   behind her. She stepped to the side to allow it to pass. Instead,

   the cruiser slowed gradually to a stop. Morrow got out hat in

   hand and smiled in a way most folks did not ever see Morrow

  smile.

      “Now might I be of assistance young lady. You know my

   offical capacity requires I serve as well as protect.” This was

   Morrow being charming or trying to.

       “Well bless your heart officer. Are you the constable for the

  town of Ardensville?” she smiled and Morrow's heart just went

  all to pieces.

    “Yes I make that claim ma'am. My title is sheriff/minister

  Morrow but please, call me Douglas” Morrow near babbled.

    “Well Douglas, I have never seen the like of a minister and

  sheriff residing in one skin. I'd say you were the Lord's justice, 

  praise Jesus.”

     “Yes yes, praise Jesus I do. Praise him mightily I say. Might I 

  inquire what brings you to our metropolis young lady?”

    “Of course you may and should. I've come to visit my niece

  who recently took employment here. She is so dear to me I

  simply had to come out and see that she was abiding in a decent

  and Christian community. I can say now, not even there yet that

  my concern is assuaged.” Morrow stepped behind the cruiser

  now for no very apparent reason. ”My name is Gwendolyn Stax.

  My niece is Celia attached to the United States Postal Service. 

  Do you know her?”

     “Well my goodness. Yes of course I know her. A fine and hard

   working addition to our community indeed. If you would do me

   the honor of riding with me I would be to happy to take you 

  directly to her.”

      After a quick fumble with his holster or something like that, 

  Morrow popped the trunk, threw Gwendolyn's luggage in,

   gallantly as he knew how opened the passenger door for her and

   off they went. Though he did not spin his wheels, the siren in his

   heart was wailing, you betcha.

      “Celia !! Celia Stax !! Come on down here right now. I've

   brought someone to see you !!”

      “Celia heard this in her kitchen and taking her sandwich with

   her went down stairs to see what the idiot was talking about.

       They stood on either side of the cruiser. Morrow beaming and

   the woman yet concealed under the wide brim of her hat.

     “Special deelivery Celia. It's your Aunt Gwendolyn all the way

   from Connecticut to check on your welfare.” Now chin up, Aunt

   Gwendolyn's face peaked out from under the hat brim.

       Sandwich shot from Celia's mouth like scattershot. Harold. 

  "Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot consecrate — we cannot hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation shall have a new birth of freedom and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth."