It’s Wednesday, which means you can expect an excerpt from my latest work-in-progress. And you’ll get that, but I’d like to share some thoughts first about the massacre in Texas. If you don’t want to read them, I don’t blame you. I don’t want to write them. But there are some things I just feel like I need to share. Back to escapism after that.

I started to use the word events in the previous sentence, but that word implies something normal happened. Normal, as in usual, typical, ordinary, customary, to be expected, like a concert or a convention or, at worst, a riot or a protest. There’s nothing of that in what that person did. And yet, there is everything of it. What he did was pure evil, and evil is perfectly described by those words: usual, typical, ordinary, to be expected.

It will be easy to use this event to argue for gun control. I’m not even going to address the issue. That is for others to discuss. What really needs to happen to bring these kinds of atrocities to an end is for good to overcome evil. Which means, and I’m sorry to appear fatalistic, these kinds of atrocities will never be brought to an end. As long as humans have the right to make choices for themselves, they will, at an alarming rate, choose evil.

So, do we just give up? No! While I acknowledge I’ll never be able to completely overcome evil with good, in my own life, let alone the whole world, I will still live in such a way that I put as much of the love of Christ out into the world as I possibly can. You may not believe this, but I am firmly convinced that only the love and righteousness of God in the person of Jesus Christ can make a true, positive impact on evil in the world. Yes, make it harder for criminals and the mentally ill to get guns. Yes, normalize the use of mental health care, taking away the stigma attached. Yes, take bullying and harassment seriously and create a more compassionate world inside the walls of the schools. Those are good and noble pursuits. But what do we need to truly fix the ills of this world? We need Jesus.

Okay, off my soapbox now. Here’s the WIP Wednesday part. In this scene, Harry is picking his best friend Otis up from the hospital.

A column of sunlight pouring through the skylight above the dining table, which had slowly made a slow path across the small room, finally crawled up the front of the couch and blasted my face with such intensity, it woke me instantly as I rolled onto my back. Flopping my arm over my eyes, I moaned without meaning to and tried to sit up. My back, having become almost completely inflexible while I slept, begged me to stay horizontal, so I gave in to its entreaties. Somewhere, deep under or inside something, my phone began ringing. It was the theme to The Andy Griffith Show, which could only mean one thing. Feeling around inside the couch cushions, I found it just as it started a second rendition.

“Hey, Otis. You okay? Need anything?”

There was a pause. “Who is this?”

“Very funny.”

“Harry, is that you?”

“Of course it’s me. Who did you call?”

“I called my best friend who’s always up before the birds. Sounds like I woke you. Are you all right?”

“What time is it?”

“It’s almost eleven-thirty.”

I looked around. The clock on the stove bore him out. “Wow. Yeah, I’m okay. Just had kind of a rough night.”

“Rough night like fun with the missus or rough night like that burrito tasted kind of funny?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, neither of those, but closer to the second one. What’s up?”

“Well, I got sprung, and my unit is kind of in Ohio. Was hoping you could come get me and take me to pick it up. I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Give me twenty.”

“You need to check with Dee?”

“No.”

“Really? You always check with Dee.”

“It’s all good. See you soon.”

He was sitting in a wheelchair laughing with a woman in scrubs who was holding one of those white plastic hospital bags with the string pulls that every patient goes home with. She had red hair. I’d never had a heart attack, but I wondered if they didn’t feel a little like what was going on in my chest. The circle was empty, so I cruised around slowly, stopping directly in front of them.

“Oops, looks like your ride is here.” She had a thick accent, like she was from the southern part of the state.

Otis kicked the footrests up and started to get up before I could get around the car. “That he is. Thanks for keeping me company, Adelaide.”

She stepped in and helped him out of the chair. “Here, let me help you. And I told you, you can call me Addy.”

“I love Adelaide.”

She blushed. “Adelaide it is, then.” She turned to me. “Hi, you must be Otis’ friend Harry.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Well, I guess this is for you.” She held out his bag.

I took it from her. “Thanks.”

I popped Ellie’s trunk and dropped the bag inside as Adelaide helped Otis down into his seat. She bit her lower lip as she handed him something I couldn’t see. He hid it in his sling as I took my seat. He was struggling to click his seatbelt, so I started to help him, but Adelaide beat me to it, leaning over his body to click the belt into the buckle. He let out a small grunt.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”

“Maybe a little. But it was worth it.”

She waved at him dismissively with another blush. “Oh, you. Now, you take it easy. Plenty of rest and change those dressings often.” She shut his door and waved at him as I pulled away from the curb.