He stood there naked, water dripping from his body, arms raised in prayer. “Father, cleanse me for this battle which is about to ensue. Wash away the filth of earth and mankind, and let me shine with the light of my special purity.” He was breathing deeply and his thoughts turned to Naomi Parkman, but he shook his head. He must focus his whole being on the task before him today. He dressed slowly and carefully, donning his best black suit and starched shirt, running a cloth again over his shoes, buffing them until they shone like a black mirror. Then he set his freshly brushed, flat-brimmed black hat on his head, straightening it in the mirror. He smoothed his coat over his chest and hips and smiled at the image. He was ready. Puffs of dust marked the Reverend’s steps as he crossed the street, ignoring traffic and passersby. The Elder Jackson stopped his wagon to let the Reverend pass, cursing under his breath after his Christian act went unnoticed. The Reverend sought shade as he walked toward the jail, preferring it to the hot June sun.
