Joseph
Chapter
Two
Unpacking the
last box of
books that Lily had asked him to work on, Peter heard her give out a
little
exclamation. He hurried to the front to see if she was all right.
“Lily? What is
it?”
“Oh,” she
pointed out the
front window, “I have to stop Jimmy! He’s ticketing your station wagon.”
Before he could
say anything
more, she was out the front door and waving her arms. He watched her
call to
the police officer, standing by Peter’s white station wagon, tucking a
ticket
under the wiper. Peter couldn’t hear what was being said, but he had to
chuckle
at her concern. He could imagine that she was giving the officer quite
an
earful. He saw the officer look up as she pointed inside, and then he
nodded,
reaching for the ticket and tearing it in two. Lily took his hand and
tugged on
it, obviously insisting that he come into the bookstore.
Peter stepped
around the
counter and gave him a nod and smile as they entered. “Good morning,
Officer.”
“Mornin’,” he
nodded.
Lily immediately
launched
into the introductions, “Peter Carson, this is Jimmy Johnson. He’s the
police
chief here in Willowbrook. I just explained to him that you were
staying
upstairs and needed a place to park, and he couldn’t possibly
ticket you
for something you didn’t know was an offense, and really was my fault
to begin
with.”
Peter put his
hand out,
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Johnson. I’m terribly sorry about leaving my car
out
there. I’ll find a more suitable place to park it right away.”
The police chief
gave his
hand a firm shake, “Not a problem at all. Anyone who’s a friend of Aunt
Lily’s
is a friend of mine. Tell you what, the station’s right down on the
corner here
and we have several empty slots, just move yours down there and I’ll
let the
boys know to keep an eye on it.”
Peter smiled,
“Thank you
very much. I’d appreciate that a great deal.”
“That’s quite
all right.
It’s good to know someone’s here helping Aunt Lily out,” he put his arm
around
her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “You all have a good day now.”
He left them and
Peter
chuckled, “I suppose I’d better go move my car, hadn’t I?”
She nodded, “I’m
so sorry. I
didn’t even stop to think of it. But Jimmy’s a good boy…well, I suppose
I
should stop calling him that, shouldn’t I? He’s a good man and fine
police
chief. He and my Jeffrey were good friends. That’s why he calls me Aunt
Lily.
He does his best to check on me and help me out.”
Peter gave her a
wink as he
headed out the door, “Those are the best kind of friends to have. Be
right
back.”
He moved his
wagon to the
empty parking place where he had been directed and locked it up, then
started
to walk back toward the store.
“Mr. Carson?” A
voice called
from behind.
He turned to see
Jimmy
Johnson standing there, arms folded. Peter halted, “Yes?”
“Could I have a
word with
you?” He motioned toward the station, “Inside.”
Peter felt a
little chill
run down his spine, but smiled and nodded, saying a silent prayer.
“Certainly.”
The station was
small, only
a couple of desks, and a door that he assumed led to some type of
holding area.
The police chief motioned toward a folding chair and he sat on the edge
of a
desk, arms folded, “Aunt Lily says you’re new in town.”
Peter nodded as
he sat down,
“Yes.”
“Whereabouts are
you from?”
“Here and there.”
“Why don’t you
be a little
more specific.” It wasn’t a question, but a command.
“I travel a
lot,” Peter kept
his answer vague.
Mr. Johnson
stood up and
glared at him very sternly, “Make no mistake about this—I’m not playing
games
here. I plan on running those plates on that car of yours and if
anything…I
mean anything comes up that isn’t right, you’ll be getting an
escort out
of this town faster than you can blink. And even if nothing comes up,
I’ll be
keeping my eye on you. And so will all my men. If so much as a penny
comes up
missing from that sweet little old lady who you have just conned your
way close
to, I will personally see to it that you never see the light of day
again. Do I
make myself clear?”
“Perfectly.”
“All right,” he
took a step
back, “you can go now. I’m sure we’ll be talking again real soon.”
Peter stood up
and nodded as
he walked out, thinking, ‘I can hardly wait.’
“Everything all
right,
Peter?” Lily asked as he walked into the store. “I was starting to
worry.”
He gave her a
bright smile
and kissed her cheek as he walked by, “Everything is fine. Don’t you
worry
about a thing. I’m almost done with this last box of books.” He
pointed
toward the front of the store, “I was wondering if you’d like me to
work on
that sign for you?”
“The sign?”
“Yes,” he
nodded. “I noticed
the lettering is starting to chip off. I can clear that old one off and
paint a
new one for you, if you’d like.”
“You think you
could do
that?” Her eyes widened.
He gave her
another wink, “I
know I can. It’s what I do. I’m a painter by trade most generally.”
“Oh! How
splendid! Why
didn’t you say so sooner? I’m sure there are other merchants along here
that
would love to have you redo theirs, as well.”
“Let’s just get
you taken
care of first, shall we?”
~*~
Peter had
finished the sign
and Lily was admiring his work, when a young boy came into the store.
“Hello, Mrs.
Barnes,” he
gave her a big smile, pushing his glasses back up on his freckled nose.
“Do you
have anything new for me?”
“Good afternoon,
Joey!” She
pointed toward a section near the back, “Mr. Carson here just unpacked
some new
books back there. Why don’t you go look through them and see if
anything
strikes your fancy?”
“Awesome!” He
hurried back
and disappeared into the books.
Peter chuckled,
remarking
softly, “I thought you said the kids around here weren’t interested in
your
books these days.”
Her tone matched
his, “Oh,
Joey’s different. He comes in every day after school to see if I have
anything
new for him to read. I don’t make him buy the books. He just sits back
there
and reads, then puts them back.”
“This town
doesn’t have a
library for that?”
She shook her
head, “People
have talked of starting one, but it’s never happened. The nearest one
is in the
county seat 30 miles away.”
“That’s too
bad,” he began
putting away his things, “but it’s good they have you.”
~*~
Peter quickly
fell into a
routine of being downstairs and ready to work just as Lily was arrived
to open
the shop. He was more than capable of doing all the labor she required
of him
before noon, so he began acquainting himself with other merchants along
the
square, taking orders to repaint their signs or do other jobs that they
might
have need of. He noticed that there was often a police officer watching
his
every move. He decided to leave that matter in the capable hands of the
Lord
and went about his business as if they weren’t there.
He made a point
to return to
the store before closing so that he could be there when Lily was
putting
together the deposit, on the offhand chance any trouble were to arise.
Without
fail, Joey would be there every weekday until it was time for Lily to
lock the
door.
It was on a
Friday when
Peter looked at his watch and realized that it was past closing time.
He gave
Lily a slight nudge and nodded toward the row where Joey was sitting
Indian-style in the floor, intent on a new book. She smiled and
shrugged as if
to say, ‘Let him read, I’m in no hurry.’ Peter nodded, but began
pulling the
shades in preparation to close shop.
It was at that
point a group
of much older boys, all of them looking a bit disheveled, tumbled in
the front
door. They were all speaking in loud tones and rude terms to one
another,
causing Peter to take a step forward in anticipation of trouble.
The tallest one,
who seemed
to be their leader, shouted, “Hey Twerp! Get your butt out here now!
You’re
gonna make us late!”
Joey jumped up
immediately,
dropping his book, and hurried toward the group, “I’m sorry! I’m
coming!”
“Joey,” Peter
called, in an
effort to confirm he truly belonged with this bunch of rowdy teens.
“Goodbye, Mr.
Carson,” Joey
waved as he ran outside, “Goodbye, Mrs. Barnes! See you on Monday!”
Peter locked the
door behind
them and looked at Lily, “Who were they?”
She sighed, “His
brothers.”
“All of them?”
“Yes. And as you
can tell,
they are none too kind to him.”
“No wonder he
spends his
time here after school,” Peter shook his head. “Where are their
parents?”
“Working,” she
began closing
out the register. “They all just run wild. I’m amazed they haven’t
gotten into
serious trouble yet.”
He raised his
brows, “Yet
would be the key word, I would imagine.”
~*~
Peter spent the
better part
of his weekend at Lily’s, doing small repairs on her house and taking
care of
long-neglected yard work. She invited him to join her for Sunday
morning
services at the small white church that stood just off the square.
He immediately
felt a good
spirit upon entering, although he wasn’t so pleased to see his new
nemesis, the
Police Chief, standing alongside the Pastor, deeply involved in a
conversation.
Lily didn’t
hesitate to lead
him into the thick of things, “Jimmy! You remember Peter, of course.
Peter
Carson, this is Pastor Mitchell.”
Peter extended
his hand and
tried to read the thoughts behind the eyes of the Pastor, “Good
morning.”
“Welcome,”
Pastor Mitchell
shook his hand. “How nice of Lily to bring you along this morning.”
“Glad to be
here,” Peter
nodded, then looked at Mr. Johnson and extended his hand to him as
well, “Good
morning, Sir.”
“Mornin’,” he
nodded, then
put on a big smile and put his arm around Lily’s shoulders. “And how’s
my
favorite aunt this mornin’?”
“I’m wonderful,
Jimmy,” Lily
assured him. “Peter has been such a big help to me. You’ll have to stop
in the
shop and see all the work he’s done. And he’s spent all weekend working
on my
house and yard. He’s just been the answer to my prayers.”
“That right?” He
glanced at
Peter skeptically, then gave the Pastor a look that was hard to read.
“How long are
you planning
on staying in Willowbrook, Mr. Carson?” The Pastor asked.
“Until the Lord
leads me
elsewhere, Pastor,” Peter smiled and stated flatly, then took Lily by
the arm.
“Shall we find a seat?”
~*~
Peter was
relieved to see
Joey at the shop on Monday afternoon. He had felt a nagging concern for
him all
weekend, wishing he had some way to check on the boy. Once Joey had
found a
book and settled in a spot on the floor, Peter made his way over toward
him and
squatted down.
Joey looked up,
“Hi, Mr.
Carson.”
“Good afternoon,
Joey,” he
smiled. “You love to read, don’t you?”
“Uh huh!” He
nodded. “Mrs.
Barnes has lots of good books to read.”
“That she does,”
Peter moved
to sit down Indian-style next to him. “You have many books at home?”
Joey’s face
fell, “No, Sir.
I don’t have hardly any of my own. Just a few Mr. and Mrs. Barnes gave
me.”
“Well,” Peter
winked, “we’ll
have to see what we can do about that, won’t we?”
Joey’s eyes
widened, “You
think we could?”
Peter nodded,
“I’ll talk to
Mrs. Barnes. She might have something you could do around here to help
out and
earn your own books.”
“That would be
so cool!” He
brightened.
“I’ll let you
know what I
can arrange, all right?”
~*~
Lily was more
than happy to
let Joey do simple odd jobs around the shop after school in order to
earn some
books of his own. Peter continued to keep a close eye on the situation.
Occasionally, the rowdy older boys would show up and insist that Joey
leave
with them in less-than-kind terms. Not once did Joey protest or
complain—something Peter found both admirable and unusual in a boy of
only ten.
Because of
Joey’s continual
positive attitude, Peter was quite surprised one afternoon to find him
slumped
in a corner of the shop, neglecting his duties and fighting tears.
“Joey?” Peter
sat down in
the floor next to him and spoke softly, “What’s wrong, Son?”
Joey sniffed and
wiped his
face with the back of his arm, “I’m sorry. I’ll get back to work, Mr.
Carson.”
Peter gently
caught his
shoulder and kept him seated, “Never mind work. Tell me what troubles
you.”
“They hate me!”
Joey wrapped
his arms around his legs and buried his face in his knees, “They all
hate me.”
“They who?”
“My brothers…and
everyone
else too.”
Peter rubbed his
back, “No,
not everyone. I don’t hate you. Mrs. Barnes doesn’t hate you. We both
love you
very much.”
Joey looked up
at him
through tears, “I try to be good, but they hate me anyway. They call me
names
and pick on me and…”
“And what?”
“They took my
books and drew
pictures in some of them and burned the others,” he sobbed.
“Oh, Joey,”
Peter put his
arm around the boy’s shoulders and drew him near. “I’m very sorry they
did
that. Let me tell you something, though. They pick on you because they
are
jealous of you.”
“Of me? Why?” He
asked
incredulously.
“Because you are
a very
bright boy,” Peter pointed out. “And you are a good boy—very
responsible
and kind to others. And they see that you have friends, like myself and
Mrs.
Barnes, who care very much for you. So they are envious.”
“But you’d be
friends with
them too, wouldn’t you? If they wanted you to be?”
“Of course we
would. But
they don’t come in here and read and work like you do. So they don’t
reap the
reward you reap.”
Joey was silent,
as if
thinking the matter over in a way he had never before considered.
Peter’s mind
went back to a
time when he was young and rowdy. A time when he was very much like
Joey’s
brothers. When he was jealous of those around him whom he perceived as
having
more love than he had. He could see Mr. Lowell standing there over his
desk one
afternoon when he had been kept yet again for detention. And he could
hear his
voice, “Peter, Peter, Peter. What am I to do with you? You remind
me so of
another young man by that name.” Mr. Lowell was a history teacher,
after
all. And, Peter later discovered, a minister of God. That afternoon in
detention had changed Peter’s life. Mr. Lowell had pulled up a chair
next to
him and began, “Let me tell you about him. He was a fisherman by
trade. Have
you ever been fishing, Peter?”
“Mr. Carson?”
Joey’s voice
broke through Peter’s thoughts. “Are you all right?”
Peter nodded and
smiled,
“I’m fine. I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“About another
boy named
Joseph,” Peter gave his shoulders a squeeze. “Would you like me to tell
you
about him?”
Joey nodded,
“Yes. That’s my
name, you know. Joseph. I’m named after my grandfather.”
“Well this boy
named Joseph
had a similar problem to yours,” Peter related. “He had a whole bunch
of older
brothers who were very jealous of him. Part of the problem, you see,
was that
their father seemed to favor young Joseph over them. He even gave him a
very
special coat that the other boys envied. Joseph was a good lad, and he
tried
very hard not to anger his brothers. But one night he had a dream about
them
all bowing down to him. He told them about it, too.”
“Uh oh,” Joey’s
eyes got
big.
“Uh oh, indeed,”
Peter
nodded. “That didn’t make them very happy.”
“What did they
do?”
“Well, they came
up with a
rather evil plan to rid themselves of him. They managed to sell him to
some
strangers as a slave and they took the coat back to their father and
told him
that Joseph had been killed.”
He gasped, “They
didn’t!”
“I’m afraid they
did,” Peter
sighed. “This was a long time ago, you see. And far away from here.
Joseph was
taken to Egypt. But, you see, he was a good boy and he had done nothing
wrong.
So he did what he knew to do. He prayed.”
“Did God help
him?”
Peter nodded,
“Joseph was
bought by a man who was very important, and he saw at once that Joseph
was a
smart boy and could be trusted. So, he gave him a very important job
and put
him in charge of all his things. He took very good care of Joseph for
quite
some time.”
“Then what
happened?”
“Well, that old
monster of
jealously came after him again. This important man was away and his
wife tried
to make Joseph do something he knew was wrong. When he refused, out of
jealousy
and pride, she accused him of something awful and he was thrown in
jail.”
“Jail?! That’s
even worse!”
“But God was
still looking
after Joseph,” Peter informed. “And the jailor saw that Joseph was
smart and
could be trusted, so he put him charge of the jail. So, even though he
was in
prison, it was not so bad for him. Then one day a couple of other men
in the
jail told him of some dreams they had. Joseph told them the meaning of
the
dreams. They came true. Which was not so good for one of them, because
he was
put to death. But the other was released and went back to serve the
Pharaoh.”
“Wow!”
“Then, because
of that, when
the Pharaoh had a dream that none of his wise men or magicians could
interpret,
this servant remembered Joseph and told the Pharaoh about him.”
“So did the
Pharaoh make
Joseph come and interpret his dream?”
“He did. And the
Pharaoh was
so impressed that he released Joseph from prison and put him in charge
of all
of Egypt, second only to the Pharaoh himself.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Peter
nodded. “And
it gets better. Because the dream had to do with a famine that was
coming to
Egypt and since Joseph had interpreted it, they knew to prepare so that
the
people wouldn’t starve. So when the famine struck, do you know who had
to come
to Egypt for food?”
“Who?”
“Remember those
ornery
brothers of his?”
“They had to
come to Joseph
for help?”
“Indeed,” Peter
nodded. “But
of course they didn’t know who he was.”
“I bet he knew
them!”
“Yes, he did.
And they were
at his mercy.”
Joey thought for
a moment,
then looked back up, “Wait…that meant they were bowing to him. Just
like in his
dream!”
“Exactly. And it
goes to
show that we all reap what we sow.”
“So what did he
do? Did he
help them?”
“Yes, he helped
them. And
eventually they found out who he was and they had to tell their father
the
truth. It’s quite an important story, really. Would you like to read
it?”
“Yes!”
Peter got up and
went to a
shelf, pulling down a used bible, then brought it back to him and
turned to
Genesis 37, “Here’s where that story starts. You can go back a bit and
learn
about some of his history. His father has a rather interesting story to
tell,
as well.”
Joey scrunched
his face a
bit, “That story was from the bible?”
Peter nodded,
“Do you have
one?”
“No.”
“Well,” Peter
patted his
shoulder, “you do now. It’s a book that is full of stories. And they
are
stories that never grow old.”
Joey looked at
it for a
moment, then looked back at him, “Do you think my brothers will ever
need me to
rescue them?”
“You never know,
Joey. They
might. Some day, because you have been diligent and studied and worked
hard and
done well, you may be the only one of them that has a good job and food
on the
table. You might find them coming to you, in need of your help…and your
mercy.”
Joey smiled and
gave Peter a
big hug, “Thank you, Mr. Carson. I’m really glad you’re my friend.”
Peter hugged him
tightly and
closed his eyes with a sigh, “So am I, Joey. So am I.”
Go To Chapter Three
With Neither Purse Nor Scrip