As the self-professed Christian man stood on the porch of the little ranch house screaming at him, Hooley thought back to a couple of weeks ago when this man had a different opinion of him.
The knock had come as Hooley was putting his readin’ glasses away. He needed the durn things in order see the little black and red words in the Bible he read every night, but they always left the bridge of his nose feelin’ like someone had tricked him into wearin’ a mighty tight clothes pin between his eyes. He massaged the lump between his eyes with his finger and thumb when a knock at the door had startled him as much as it did his sleepin’ cowdog. He wondered if he was gonna need readin’ glasses for his ears in the near future.
Hooley opened the door and the little man from the church looked uncomfortable. Hooley invited him in, but the man just stood there on the porch.
“Sir,” the little man stammered, “I don’t really know who else to turn to, but there’s a brother from the church that’s been going through a divorce and I just got a call from the local bar that said he was passed out on a table. They knew he went to church with us and asked if we might be willing to go help the poor guy get home.”
Hooley waited and the silence was a little uncomfortable as the cowdog sniffed the little man’s nice and shiny suit pants. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the man finished.
“I don’t really feel comfortable going in such an establishment as that, but I have heard that you used to frequent those kinds of places and maybe you could go get him and take him home.”
Hooley left him standing there and then returned to the front door. He hadn’t even taken the time to pull his pants down over his boots. He grabbed his hat off the horseshoe near the door and said, “You don’t fret none. I’ll be glad to help.”
Later on that week, he ran into the church guy and the man just gushed his thanks. He went on and on about how he wished that there were more good Christians like Hooley willing to do the Lord’s work for those in need. Hooley just shook the fancy guy’s hand and kindly thanked him for his words.
Now, standing on the same porch, was the same man, but this time, he was red faced and shouting at Hooley. “How dare you bring such shame on our little church!! I thought you were a good Christian man, but I now believe you to be a charlatan and a liar. I hope we never cross paths again. I know you were in the bar the other night drinking and boozin’ it up with all your cowboy friends.”
The thought crossed Hooley’s mind to explain to this jerk that an old friend had phoned him from the bar. He’d told Hooley that he was only gonna be in town for an hour or so and had really needed to talk to him.
Hooley drove down and sat with the man. They talked about the cattle market and how no one even broke their own horses anymore. They wanted a $10,000 dollar horse in thirty days, but only wanted to spend $150 to get it done. They both had a good chuckle.
After an hour, Hooley had nursed the same beer his friend had bought him while he watched the other man drink four. Finally, the man took a deep breath and Hooley knew he was fixin’ to learn the real reason for the invite.
“Hooley, I didn’t know who else to turn to. I’ve lost my job, my wife, my life, and I feel like I’m slippin’ away. I’ve always known you were a good man, a good cowboy, and a good Christian. That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”
Hooley just sat there in silence and once again just waited.
“What do I have to do to get to know the Lord like you do? I want Him to take the reins to my life, but gosh-durnnit, I ain’t got a clue in what direction to start or even what to say.” The man could hardly meet Hooley’s eyes as he spoke.
Hooley smiled as he said, “Amigo, you’re a lot closer than you really know.”
When they walked out, Hooley walked with a different man than the one that had gone in.
The fella in the three piece suit was still givin’ Hooley a Christian cussin’ when he snapped out of his recollection of the little man’s perceived offense.
Hooley interrupted the ramblin’. “You know what the definition of irony is, son?”
The guy shut his mouth as Hooley smiled and led him to the front of the porch like they were a father and a son.
Hooley looked off in the far distance as he said, “I was praised for goin’ into that establishment as you like to call it and saving a Christian. Yet now, you come to my home, stand on my porch, and curse me for goin’ in the same place to save someone that was lost.”
Before the man could say anything else, Hooley backed up and kicked him right in the butt and sent him flyin’ out into the dirt.
“Say what you want to about me, but don’t you ever disrespect my porch again.”
And with that, Hooley walked in and shut the door.
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