Grits And Glory. Ron Benrey

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      Sean stumbled against the wind and managed to grab the handle of Glory Community’s door with his good left hand. He used his aching right hand to wipe rain-diluted blood off his face, then gingerly placed his thumb on the doorbell. He pulled again and again, ignoring the throbbing in his head and the haze that seemed to saturate his mind.

      He saw the door begin to open and pulled even harder. “It’ll take both of us to hold it against the wind,” he shouted.

      “Okay,” Ann shouted back. “You pull, I’ll push.”

      The force of the wind against the heavy steel door was even greater than he’d anticipated. It shoved him a step backward and simultaneously tugged Ann beyond the sill, exposing her to the curtain of rain whirling beneath the narrow overhanging portico. He managed to stay on his feet and, with Ann’s help, held the door half-open against a sudden gust.

      “Goodness!” she said. “Your head is bleeding.”

      “The church’s steeple fell on our truck when it blew off the roof.”

      “Where’s Carlo?”

      “Still in the truck. He’s unconscious.”

      He heard her gasp.

      “Let’s get inside,” he said. “Then I’ll call for help.”

      Sean maneuvered around Ann and grabbed the inside handle. Slowly…slowly, they dragged the door shut. Sean felt muzzy headed. He sagged against the wall.

      “You need a doctor,” she said.

      “Probably—but not as much as Carlo.”

      Ann guided him toward a chair in the small lobby. “You rest. I’ll radio the emergency command center.”

      “I don’t want to drip blood on your upholstery.”

      “That chair has survived a dozen Vacation Bible Schools. It’s seen far worse than a few drops of blood.”

      Sean sat down. He heard the radio crackle, heard Ann say something, but couldn’t make out what she said.

      He felt Ann shake his shoulder. “Huh?”

      “They told me to keep you awake,” she said.

      He pushed himself to his feet. “I’d better look after Carlo.”

      “You did that by walking from the parking lot to the church.” She pushed him back down. “When you rang the bell, I was already at the side door. I heard the steeple fall and I wanted to see what happened.”

      “What happened is that it hit our van, and some big pieces of wood plowed through our windshield.” Sean recalled the noise of glass breaking…

      “Don’t fall asleep,” Ann said. “Keep talking.”

      “Carlo and I were sitting up front, watching the storm. I’d lowered the outriggers, so the wind wouldn’t tip the van…”

      “And?”

      “There were two strong gusts. The first one knocked out the electricity. The second made a big ‘boom,’ glass and wood flying everywhere. Carlo got the worst of it. He was in the passenger seat.”

      Ann said something into her radio, but he only caught one word: paramedic.

      “You’re drifting,” Ann said. “Stay with me.”

      “I want apologize on behalf of the Storm Channel.”

      “Apologize for what?”

      “You won’t be on television tonight. Our satellite antenna is smashed. No more live broadcasts from Glory.”

      “And here I went to all the trouble of acquiring this soaking wet look.”

      Sean gazed at Ann. Her hair was drenched and makeup had run down her cheeks.

      “You’re pretty.”

      “Now I’m sure that you need medical attention.”

      Sean knew he had chuckled, but he couldn’t remember what СКАЧАТЬ