Sometimes, especially with dishes, Reverend Michael would help me out, insisting he did the washing. While we scrubbed endless mountains of soup bowls, I’d chatter a mile a minute about all what was going on in school. He’d nod, smiling a mile a minute.
“And those bullies?” he’d ask.
“I think they’re too scared to mess with me now with all the people,” I guessed. In fact, now that he mentioned it, I hadn’t seen any of Dennis and his cronies in days. I became worried about what they might do next.

I had my answer sooner than I’d have liked.

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