—The Lord’s first creation, Pastor John observed in appreciation while returning the flashlight to its owner.
Once again, the boy looked at him with curiosity. By way of explanation, Pastor John quoted the verse.
—And the Lord said, Let there be light, and there was light.
—But in the very beginning, God created the heavens and the earth, said the boy. Wouldn’t light be His third creation?
Pastor John cleared his throat.
—You’re perfectly right, William. At least, in the technical sense. Either way, I think we can assume that the Lord takes great satisfaction from the fact that having witnessed his third creation be harnessed for the benefit of men at war, the device has found a second life in the service of a boy’s edification.
With this satisfactory observation the boy was silenced, and Pastor John found himself glancing rather longingly at his bag.
The day before, Pastor John had been preaching the Word of the Lord at the edge of a traveling Christian revival meeting on the outskirts of Cedar Rapids. Although the pastor was not officially a part of the meeting, so taken were the attendees with his own special brand of fire and brimstone that he had preached from dawn till dusk without even taking time for a brief repast. In the evening, when the crew had begun to roll up the tents, Pastor John had planned to retire to a nearby tavern, where a lovely young member of a Methodist choir had agreed to join him for supper and, perhaps, a glass of wine. But it so happened that the girl’s choirmaster was also her father, and one thing leading to another, Pastor John was forced to make a hastier departure than he’d intended. So when he’d taken his seat with the boy, he was quite eager to skip along to the moment when they would break bread.
But there is as much call for etiquette in an empty boxcar as there is at the table of a bishop. And what the etiquette of the road demanded was that one traveler should come to know another before expecting to share in his food. To that end, Pastor John took the initiative.
—Tell me, young man: What is that you’re reading?
—Professor Abacus Abernathe’s Compendium of Heroes, Adventurers, and Other Intrepid Travelers.
—How appropriate! May I?
Again the boy handed over one of his possessions without the slightest hesitation. A Christian through and through, thought Pastor John, while opening the book. Reaching the table of contents, John saw that it was in fact a compendium of heroes, more or less.
—No doubt, you are headed off on an adventure of your own, prompted John.
In response, the boy nodded energetically.
—Don’t tell me. Let me guess.
Glancing down, Pastor John ran his finger along the list.
—Hmm. Let me see. Yes, yes.
With a smile he tapped the book, then looked up at the boy.
—I suspect you are off to circumnavigate the globe in eighty days—in the manner of Phileas Fogg!
—No, said the boy. I am not off to circumnavigate the globe.
Pastor John glanced back at the table of contents.
—You plan to sail the Seven Seas like Sinbad . . . ?
The boy shook his head again.
In the earnest silence that followed, Pastor John was reminded of how quickly one becomes bored with children’s games.
—You have me, William. I give up. Why don’t you tell me where your adventure is taking you.
—To California.
Pastor John raised his eyebrows. Should he tell the lad that of all the possible directions in which he might travel, he had chosen the one least likely to get him to California? The news would undoubtedly prove valuable to the boy, but it also might disconcert him. And what was to be gained by that?
—California, you say? An excellent destination. I imagine you are headed there in hopes of finding gold.
The pastor smiled encouragingly.
—No, the boy replied in his parrotlike manner, I am not headed to California in hopes of finding gold.
Pastor John waited for the boy to elaborate, but elaboration did not appear to be in his nature. At any rate, thought Pastor John, that seemed conversation enough.
—Wherever we happen to be traveling and for whatever the reasons, I count it a stroke of good fortune to find myself in the company of a young man with knowledge of Scripture and a love of adventure. Why, the only thing missing to make our journey more perfect . . .
As the pastor paused, the boy looked at him expectantly.
— . . . Would be a little something to nibble upon as we pass the time in conversation.
Pastor John gave a wistful smile. Then it was his turn to look expectantly.
But the boy didn’t blink.