Mary went straight to the bus station. She didn't know where she wanted to go -- just away. Get free. Find open space. She bought a ticket on a bus bound for Dallas.
The waiting room was not crowded. Mary sat down next to an old black woman huddled over her bag. There were a couple of teenagers in the bench opposite, engrossed in their electronic devices. A gangly man with a cane and protruding Adam's apple sat in the corner reading a magazine. Mary looked down. A pair of shiny black boots stopped in front of her eyes. She looked up, surprised to see a tall, handsome man in a white suit and huge hat. He had a tanned, leathery face that could have belonged to a cowboy, but he did not look like he was accustomed to hard work outdoors.
Mary said nothing. The man sat down anyway. "Going to Dallas?" he asked. After a short pause, when Mary remained silent, he continued, "That's where I'm going. Lovely, G--fearing--" Glubwart choked. "Excuse me. ...Lovely city, fine, church-going people. I have a wonderful congregation -- best folks you could meet. It's a pleasure and a privilege to minister to them. I thank G--- every day -- I mean, I'm very thankful to be their pastor. They raise my spirits, I can tell you, yes Ma'am." Glubwart swallowed hard. He had forgotten how painful it was to mention the Enemy's name. He would have to be very careful. He looked at Mary sharply. He could not tell if she had noticed how he stumbled over it. He decided on a new tactic.
"My name is Holloway, Ruben Holloway. Just call me Brother Holloway. I'm just a servant. -- Do my best to block the enemy. 'Cause that devil, that Satan, that Evil One, he's a deceiver, doncha know? Yes, Ma'am, I fight that demon every day; just a soldier in the cause.
"I'm born again, miss, yes -- renewed in His name! I had sunk low -- so low you can't imagine. I don't want to offend your tender ears. I was lost, yes I -- my father left us when I was young. My mother became an alcoholic. She and her paramours abused me in the most horrific ways. Excuse me -- I don't want to offend. I don't want to shock. I know a sweet, innocent thing like you cannot comprehend the abuse I suffered. But I descended to their depths and beyond. It was my own fault! Yes! I have no excuse to make. I could not choose the conditions of my youth, but I could choose my response. -- I chose wrongly, time and again. My own fault. I chose alcohol. I chose drugs. I chose bad friends, loose women. Forgive me, my dear. I just want you to know that I am a sinner, yes, a terrible sinner. Believe me! I was lost, utterly lost. But then, like the great hymn, out of my deepest despair, He saved me! Yes! Even me! Dearheart, I can assure you, whatever your condition might be -- forgive me, I don't mean to presume, but you seem to be troubled. I say again, whatever your condition might be, He can give you strength. He can give you forgiveness. He can give you the power to persevere against all your trials. Will you let Him in?"
Brother Holloway/Glubwart paused expectantly. Mary said nothing. She sat with her head down.
"Excuse me for preaching -- but after all, it's what I do. I'm so grateful, my heart so full of thanks for His goodness. And as the good book says, 'The mouth runs over with the contents of the heart.' Some in my congregation say I run over at the mouth all the time. He saved a wretch like me, even me. He can save you, too. Forgive me for running on. I'll leave you in peace now. Please think over what I said. I hope we can talk again. It's a long trip."
Brother Holloway/Glubwart opened up his battered black book and pretended to study it, all the while carefully observing Mary. Suddenly the waiting room door burst open. Joe rushed in. He immediately saw Mary and rushed to her side.
"Polly told me," Joe said. "Why are you leaving? Where are you going?"
"Go away," Mary mumbled. "Leave me alone."
"But how -- who?" Joe stumbled over his words. Nothing would come out right.
"I don't know. I don't know," Mary said. "Just leave me alone."
"But we never... I mean..." Joe stammered.
"I told you. -- I don't know!" Mary snapped. Her face went hard. "Don't worry about it. You're not involved. You have nothing to worry about. Go away. Leave me alone!"
"I didn't mean that," Joe said. He hung his head. "Is there anything I can do to help? Do you have to go?"
Mary's face softened. She shook her head slowly. "No. Just go. Please."
Joe made a stumbling attempt to embrace her. Mary shrank away. Joe slowly got up and left.
Brother Holloway/Glubwart had studiously avoided looking as if he were eavesdropping, which of course he was. "Forgive me, my dear -- I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with that young man. You seem to be troubled; is there anything I can do to help?"
Mary shook her head.
"Don't be shy. There are many facilities, many agencies, that can help a young girl in need. Don't hesitate to reach out." When Mary still remained silent, he said, "Well, we'll leave it for now. Please think about it. We'll talk later."
The announcement for the bus departure came over the loudspeaker. The passengers began making their way out the door and onto the bus. Brother Holloway/Glubwart decided not to crowd Mary. He took a seat on the opposite side, a few rows behind her. He started brain browsing, intentionally avoiding Mary at first. He started with the bus driver: [Anxious to get started. Get on the bus! Let's get going. My ex is killing me with alimony -- may have to return the damned favor! If we don't get this bus moving I might end up living here; can't make the payments on the house; seems like I'm living on this goddamn bus already]
Glubwart started picking brains at random. He listened in on an old hunched-over, corpulent black woman. She was worried about a young nephew who was mixed up in a gang. She was afraid he was dealing drugs. Glubwart passed over a teenager who was engrossed in a computer game. He knew there wouldn't be any interesting thoughts there. A dapper, graying gentleman seemed out of place among the obviously lower income people who made up the majority of the passengers. Glubwart was intrigued and checked him out. [I'm ruined. It's all gone. Nothing left. Nothing left for me to do.] Another victim of the economic turndown, coupled with heavy gambling losses. His wife had left him, taken the kids. The man was obviously contemplating suicide. Glubwart chuckled inwardly. Sometimes, a demon gets lucky. Sweets just jump into your pocket without your having to do anything at all. Well, he could still claim credit -- after all, didn't he promote gambling in the first place? Didn't he sow the seeds? Why shouldn't he reap the harvest?
Brother Holloway/Glubwart steeled himself. He was ready to take on Mary. He knew from Snakefoot's failures that she must have an inordinate amount of the Enemy's power. When he finally screwed up his courage enough to tune into Mary's brain, he was surprised. He didn't feel the slightest twinge of pain; no blinding white light. What was going on? Is this some kind of trap? How was she concealing the Enemy's power? -- or was Snakefoot merely a hopeless idiot? Glubwart increased his focus. The usual: Mary sorrowing over the loss of Joe; still plagued by thoughts of her mother and her former life of hell; all old news to Glubwart. Nothing out of the ordinary. So why was this experienced demon having so much difficulty turning her? There were no hard edges to her psyche; just a soft, confusing miasma. Glubwart felt himself getting lost. Maybe that was her trick; her shield; no direct confrontation -- power against power -- just a gentle never-never land; a vast forest where you lose your way, forget your purpose. Glubwart felt himself disappearing, being swallowed up. He switched off brain browsing, confused and scared. He had been preparing himself for a fight and found himself being lulled to sleep. Oh, this was too devious. The Enemy wasn't playing by the rules.
With a sudden lurch, the bus pulled out of the bay and onto the street.
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