
by Lorie Lewis Ham
Before going to bed, I spent a long time in prayer, knowing I’d need all the strength and wisdom I could get for the next day.
After a restless night, I awoke Sunday morning feeling like I had a plane full of luggage under my eyes. I showered and got dressed for church, then peddled on over.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
Chief Harmon didn’t waste any time in taking down Chuck’s statement after we arrived. He wasn’t sure what could be done with the information, but he could at least use it to start building some sort of case. I suggested he call Paul Unruh to see if he could help them figure out how they could get a group together to sue the Club leaders for discrimination if nothing else.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
With a determined look on his face, Miguel set out to find Eddie. He didn’t have to go far because Eddie strolled through the door as we entered the front of the shop.
“Sit,” barked Miguel as he pointed to a table near us. He hadn’t asked me to leave, so I took a seat, too. Eddie looked confused.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
After a restless night I got up and headed for Main Street to meet Stephen, with an hour to spare before the police arrived at the Happy Mouth. After chaining my bike at the bike rack outside, I found my old friend at our usual booth reading this week’s Kingsburg News. I slid into the seat across from him and couldn’t help feeling we’d gone full circle

by Lorie Lewis Ham
It would be getting dark soon, so I peddled on home, feeling much deflated since this morning. The day had started with a killer in jail and things looking up. Now I was just about out of a job at the church and minus a killer to boot.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
Not sure where to go next, I sat on my bike for several minutes thinking. Since the ice cream was most likely to have contained the poison, we had to figure out who’d had the chance to put something in it. I got off my bike, leaned it up against a pole, and pulled out my cell phone. It was time to call in a favor.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
It was only one block from the Happy Mouth to the offices of the Kingsbury News. I locked my bike in the rack out front and went in. Our receptionist, Mary Miller, Bill’s daughter, was on the phone and waved as I went past.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
I sat in silence for several minutes after Chief Harmon left. Inside of me was a battle between excitement and anxiety. I was thrilled that I had been given the chance to talk to the chief, yet a little shaken by his warning—not that I intended to let it stop me.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
Tuesday morning dawned bright and beautiful. The world was no longer on my shoulders and I felt great. I began my day as I had forgotten to do of late, in prayer and devotions. When it came time to head for the church I was ready and whistling an old Nat King Cole tune called Smile.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
After Henry’s visit, I tried to work on my sermon, but the renewed excitement hadn’t translated to the written page. The pile of crumpled paper in the wastebasket was a sign of my frustration. At about five, I gave up, hopped on my bike, and headed for my apartment.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
We crossed the street and went inside the bike shop. Alex was leaning over a bike with a young boy, and I was once again struck by his resemblance to his uncle Henry.
“You see, Manuel, if you keep skidding to a stop with your bike you’re going to go through a lot of tires. I don’t think your mom will be thrilled with that.”

by Lorie Lewis Ham
Josh’s statement left me with a chill. Was Scott Matthews using his own son to do his dirty work, or was this something he had done on his own? I feared for the future of Kingsbury if the parents’ bigotry was being passed on to the youth.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
We had our fill of football by the beginning of the last quarter—Kensington was slaughtering Kingsbury High. Thankfully, I’d had the time to pick up some cheap tires earlier in the day, so Stephen dropped me off at my bike and I rode over to the radio station; thanks to the headlight the church had purchased for my bike I was able to ride it at night.

by Lorie Lewis Ham
The last football game I had been to was in high school, more years ago than I cared to think about. It was the Saints game where my dad bought me the cap. As a teenager, I played baseball and later discovered ice hockey—which was now my personal favorite. But this particular football game was yet another Kingsbury tradition just as important to the town as the Fiesta.