The Good Samaritan

The Good Samaritan

Alex rolled to a stop on the long dirt rode. He sighed, muttered a little prayer and got out of the car. The steam rolled out of the hood in quiet billows of white, and Alex knew it was a bad sign. The problem was that he had no idea what it was. He had lived in Vancouver his whole life, and had become a priest in that church he had gone to since a child. Usually he could get the mechanic in his church to work on his car whenever there was any trouble.
Alex knew his only choice was to walk. He had to either go back the way he had come, or continue down the road. He hadn’t seen any signs of civilization for about an hour, so he decided to take his chances continuing the way he had been driving, and he was lost in this unfamiliar area. He got lucky and found a knocked down sign just over the hill from his car that said, “Piney Lake 5 miles.” Hoping that there would be someone at the lake, he continued on his way.
After his grueling 5-mile hike Alex walked over a hill and found a small home, partially hidden in the pine trees. The house was abnormally small, but Alex knocked on the tiny door anyway. When no one came Alex decided to check if anyone was behind the house. As he went around the house he saw some pigs in a pen, and took it as a good sign someone was living here. When he got in back he discovered a barn that had been hidden by the small house and the heavier foliage near the top of the fairly high barn.

What he discovered just inside the door of the barn was a child wrestling a pig into a pen. The pig was very big, almost as big as the child wrestling it. When the pig was finally forced into the pen the child brushed the mud off of his ripped clothes, but it didn’t seem to help any. The child walked to the door and found Alex waiting outside.
Alex was surprised to find that the child wasn’t a child at all, but a very short man. The man had black hair, browned from the mud, down to his shoulders, and a black beard that outlined his wide gray eyes.
The little man didn’t seem to be eager to say anything, so Alex decided to start the conversation.
“No one answered your door so I came back to find someone.” The man didn’t say anything so Alex went on, “I broke down about 5 miles back. I was wondering if I could use your phone to call someone. My brother… or a mechanic, maybe.”
When the man spoke his voice was gruff, and sounded like rocks rolling down a hill, “Don’t got no phone.” His voice cracked from misuse, it was obvious that he was usually alone, “You eat here, then go to neighbors. They got phone.”
Alex Hadn’t eaten anything so he was happy to oblige, “Thank you.” He extended his hand, “ My name is Alex Blu Bery.”
Ignoring Alex’s hand he said, “My name is Johnny Mucumma.” He turned and walked into the house without another word.
Alex ate the small meal and probed Johnny for information on the people around and the history of the area. As Johnny seemed to get more and more relaxed around Alex, he told more about the area. He told Alex that him that there used to be a lake not far from his home, about a mile or so, and that it had dried out several years earlier. On the bottom of the lake they found a circle of rocks, and that they might go there later.
They set out on their way after dinner. Johnny had a pig drawn carriage; which was a really good idea considering Johnny’s stature, and a horse would be too much expense for Johnny. They got to the neighbors house and Alex was appalled to see satanic symbols on the door. This didn’t seem to bother Johnny though, so Alex went against his better judgment and knocked on their door. They seemed like a pleasant couple and after a short introduction, in which he found the couple to be the Jones, they allowed Alex to use the phone.
Alex called his twin brother, Allen, that; as far as he could figure was just a few hours away. After a short discussion on how he could have gotten himself lost in the middle of nowhere, he agreed to come get him, and would be there sometime that night.
Alex started to leave when he was asked by the husband, Edgar, why he wore a cross around his neck. When Alex began talking about Christ and how he died but Edgar quickly cut him off.
“If I were you I would take that off or hide it. You are not wise to wear that in these parts.”
“I will do no such thing, I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ.” He quickly stated as the Jones started to push him out the door.
“Suit yourself, it was just a suggestion.” Mr. Jones called, already closing the door.
“Who do they think they are to tell me not to wear the symbol of God?” He asked loudly as they walked back to the carriage.
Johnny tried to shush him, but Alex went on ranting about the “nerve of some people.” On the way back to Johnny’s house they passed a man on a horse that looked at Alex and his cross in an angry way. When the man had passed he quickly rode away without looking back.
They weren’t at the house long before they heard people yelling and shouting outside the home. Looking out the small window they saw a mob, with pitchforks, goat heads, and torches. Alex was so scared he quickly stood up and hit his head on the ceiling. He tried to reassure himself and Johnny by stating that; “God would deliver him from the hands of these heathens.”
The mob broke down the door, not even bothering to check if it was locked, and they dragged Alex from the house. Johnny ran and hid in the barn, but the mob wasn’t interested in him. They tied Alex’s hands and then tied a rope to his leg with the other end tied off to a wagon. They dragged him on the dirt and rock, ripping his flesh, and he was soon out cold.
When he became conscious again they were at the dried lake, just outside the rock circle. The rocks were blackened from fire and the mob was building new fires on the rocks. Most likely readying it for the satanic rituals they would perform. They cut down a tree and made a giant cross. As Alex realized what they had in mind he was filled with dread.
They finished the cross and stuck it into the ground in the center of the circle. They then tied him to it, and the man they had seen on the road riled the mob up with a speech about the lying Christians, and that this one (Alex) had to be terminated for violating the sanctuary that they had created.
They started drinking and partaking in all kinds of rituals and sins that could be imagined. They did this late into the night and they all finally drank themselves into a stupor. Most of them fainted there; the others wandered off into the woods.
Back at his home, Johnny hid until the mob had left then came out of his hiding place and sat by his window. When it got very late in t night he saw lights in his window.
Fearing the mob had come back he looked out his window. Instead of the mob he saw a man stepping out of his truck. The man looked like Alex, and at first he thought it was Alex. When the man came into the home he introduced himself as Allen.
Johnny remembered Alex’s conversation and told Allen where his brother was.
They hurried to the lake on the carriage. They stood on the edge of the woods and waited for the last of the festivities to die down. It didn’t take long, and as soon as they could they snuck into the ring of circles.
They got to Alex and Johnny stood on Allen’s shoulders and used Allen’s pocket knife to cut the ropes. They carried Alex to the carriage and brought him back to Johnny’s home. On the way back Alex woke a couple times and mumbled incoherently. Allen started to talk to Johnny.
“So are your not one of those devil worshippers, are you?” Allen asked once out of sight of the lake.
“Nah, it ne’er felt good.” He replied quietly
“Well thanks for helping Alex out. He has never been in situations where Christianity wouldn’t be accepted. He’s kinda hard headed about that.”
“He’s da lucky one. All da others that’s come theys killed.” Johnny said gloomily. After this last statement they continued on in silence until they reached Johnny’s home.
Allen set Alex in the passenger seat of his truck and, after thanking Johnny one last time, drove off onto the road. He stopped shortly at Alex’s car and grabbed anything of value and locked all the doors. They would have to call someone to tow it.
Alex never forgot his short adventure in Piney Lake. He learned a valuable lesson that he took with him his whole life. He never forgot Johnny, that poor pig farmer, his very own Good Samaritan.