Dancing-with-Baptists-Createspace-Final--A4

DANCING WITH BAPTISTS
“My book,” Chap said as his blood mixed with the wet clay of the bank.
“My BOOK!” Chap shouted.
“Shhh. Hang in there.” Greg said as he threw his broken friendship over his shoulder.
Chap moaned in pain.
“I’ve got drugs Chap. Just a little farther. They’ll stop the pain.” Greg started to cry for the first
time since that masked doctor slapped him. “Our Father who art in Heaven,” Greg prayed anything he
could think of through the tears.
“C’mon Chap, pray with me.” Each friendladened, mud-bogged step was more challenging
than the last.
“Hallowed be Thy name.” Chap whispered in a bouncing cadence and then,
“MY BOOK! THEY HAVE TO SEE MY BOOK! THEY HAVE TO SEE-”
Just stay with-”
“They Will, I PROMISE CHAP. I PROMISE.
The two drunken VC suddenly sprang from the bushes. Shots were fired. The young sentry put
five shells each into the two drunks that murdered Chap. “They got ’m Chap! Stay with me!” Greg,
exhaustedly quieted to a near whisper, “Stay with me. The danger’s over. We’re safe. Stay with me-”
Greg pleaded with the dead weight of his friend on his shoulders. Greg did not realize until an hour
later that some of the blood on his fatigues was his own.
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