One Man's Calling : One Man's Calling, ch 25 by Wayne Fowler |
In the last part Ben explained how to hear God’s voice. After counselling by Ben, Angelo accepts a corrupt promotion sponsored by a gangster. “Mr. Ben, are you sick, Mr. Ben?” Mrs. Koska was tapping on Ben’s door. Finished cleaning up after breakfast, she was concerned. Ben had declined supper the evening before, and had now missed breakfast. She heard muttering from inside Ben’s room. Hesitating to disturb him, her concern for his health overrode her value of his privacy. She inched the door open. “Mr. Ben?” she whispered. “Oh, Mrs. Koska. I was praying. I hope I didn’t disturb you.” “No, Mr. Ben. I was afraid you were sick. I heard … And you didn’t eat supper and now breakfast.” “I’m fasting, Mrs. Koska. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you last night, but last night I didn’t know I would be … Well, anyway. I’m fine. Thank you for inquiring.” Ben’s gaze bid her to close the door and leave. Ben prayed another hour before taking his praying to the road, praying while walking. “Hey, Ben,” Tony said. Waiting for Ben outside, the soapbox strapped to his back like a backpack, Tony was ready to start the day. He knew better than to ask why Ben was late. “The White Stockings start a series in Philadelphia today,” Tony declared as if asked. “Then they go to New York. So, are we going to the Harrison Street Bridge?” “No, Tony, I’m going downtown. I need you to clean up that lot where the leather shop used to be over on Lexington. Clean it up real good because we’re going to play baseball on it this Saturday.” “Who?” Tony asked. After a moment, Tony squealed. “But that’s a big field!” Ben just smiled. “And see if you can find something to make bases of.” He began walking and praying. +++ At a messy, unkempt restaurant on Canal Street, Ben entered and waited at the doorway to be greeted. A waitress saw him, but immediately swallowed hard and turned away. Two rough-appearing men approached Ben from a back room. “Take me to him,” Ben commanded. Neither man said a word, though both attempted. Ben followed them through the door they’d just passed through. Not a word yet said, they presented Ben to a man who stood from a table, a plate of fried eggs in front of him. “Vincenzo Colosimo,” Ben said. Diamond Jim squinted at Ben, furrowing his brow. Though Ben was tall, standing over six feet, Diamond Jim towered over him. “No one knows that name,” he growled. “God knows all about you, Vincenzo.” Diamond Jim continued his glare. Ben ignored the two goons behind him, no thought to the similar circumstance in Telluride with Sallinger’s ruffians. As Ben began to speak, no one noticed that Diamond Jim began to crane his neck upward. He was seeing Ben magnified double his own size. Diamond Jim heard Ben’s words as if spoken by a giant. “Vincenzo, I have dealt with the bear and the lion. And I will deal with you. You claim to own a certain colt who is destined for greatness. You aim to break him, to ruin him before he is grown and ready for the track. This colt is not yours, Vincenzo. He belongs to me, says the Lord of Hosts.” Ben broke his gaze into Diamond Jim’s eyes, turned and strode out of the room, brushing aside both body guards. On the way back home, Ben stopped at a store and bought two different sized baseball bats, several baseballs, and two dozen Brooklyn style ball caps. He also stopped at a diner for two sandwiches of delicious, though questionable content. +++ “All right, boys,” Ben began the next day. Fifteen boys gathered in front of him on Tony’s ball field. “Who wants to play baseball, be on the team?” Every hand went up. Ben introduced himself and learned the boys’ names. “Here’s the deal,” Ben began. “Everybody who wants, gets on the team. It’s just like being on Jesus’ team. Everyone know who Jesus is?” Ben waited to make eye contact with each boy. “Tony, that box we brought? Pass out what’s inside to everybody. “Now, when you put this cap on, it’s like when you are in Sunday School, or catechism. When you accept Jesus into your heart, you put on his uniform; you’re on his team. And no one can jerk you off his team, can they?” Ben waited for understanding. “When you are on Jesus’ team, he wants you to stay on his team. He will find a place for you. Just like we’ll find a place for you on our team. “On this team,” Ben held up one of the caps, “Just like Jesus’ team, you might make an error. Who knows what an error is?” “When you drop the ball,” one boy yelled out. “That’s right,” Ben said. “Everybody makes an error once in a while. We all do. You learn from errors, but you don’t get kicked off the team. How about outs? Who knows what an out is?” Cacophony filled the air. Ben grinned and nodded, figuring they got the concept. “That’s right. We all get called out. Sometimes it’s our fault, sometimes it’s not.” “Like when the next batter hits into a double play,” an older boy yelled. Ben, not fully versed in the game, recognized the boy as a leader. “What’s your name, son.” “Jake.” “Jake, how would you like to be the captain of the team, a captain that I can use to teach the younger ones?” Jake grinned large. “All right. Now for the next few minutes, we’re going to throw the ball to one another. Jake and … Tom, is it?” he asked pointing to another of the older boys, “Jake and Tom and others will walk around and show the younger ones how to throw and catch. Then some will take turns learning how to bat. And then we’ll have a little game. Sound good?” Shouts of glee resounded. No sooner had training begun, with as many groups formed as there were baseballs, when a carriage pulled up, one of Diamond Jim’s thugs the lone passenger. He climbed down and walked to Ben. “Rode all over town lookin’ for ya. Boss said give you this.” He handed Ben a leather wallet stuffed with bills. Ben extracted a hundred-dollar bill and handed the wallet back. “Tell him much obliged. It’ll go to good use. Tell him where we are and that he should buy this parcel and donate it to the city.” The man looked at Ben incredulously, and did as bid. As did Diamond Jim. At the next opportunity for the boys to practice, Ben gathered them, the initial fifteen and several more. “Boys, do you remember what I said about never getting kicked off the team?” They all yelled that they did, even the new ones. If there’s any bullying, I might have to be the disciplinarian. Do you know what that means?” They all said “Yes,” even the ones uncertain. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Just like Jesus. And if you don’t do as I ask, or what one of the older ones who are helping coach asks, you might have to sit on the bench for a while. But I want you to understand that the only way you can get kicked off the team is to go completely out of control and give yourself over to the devil. Just …” “Like Jesus!” they all shouted, meaning that in the most positive way. “Now, where do we learn the rules of how to play baseball?” “The rule book,” several answered. “That’s right. And where do we find the rules of how to live?” Finally, Tony answered. “The Bible?” Ben grinned. “Let’s have a game!”
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Wayne Fowler
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