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world?
    Alas, I cannot answer that question, either. I myself have often wondered why everyone has not cast aside smallness and meanness of spirit and embraced unconditional love. I suspect, however, it is because we are humans, and for some reason, we humans are more attracted to the glitter of gold than to the dull grunge of charity.
    (Forgive me, I am now stepping briefly up onto my soap box…)
    Even as I write this little tale, I can hear fear-mongers beating the drums of bigotry and narrow-mindedness so loudly that some citizens have armed themselves with pistols and semi-automatic weapons to use against one another. My Quaker spirit revolts thinking that brother is now prepared to rise up against brother, and father against son! What is this: what is this , I ask, if not the sly, sneaky hand of greed at work broadcasting ignorance and fear, so that the purveyor of this distress might benefit from fear’s largess?
    But fear cannot – will not – gain its desired end. For evil has a way of swallowing itself up completely, like the Cheshire Cat, and someday – SOMEDAY, I promise! – evil will disappear altogether from the face of the earth!
    But we must help, my pips; we must help.
    We must be kind. We must be compassionate. We must be thoughtful. We must be just. We must not be small-minded or mean-spirited. We must not give evil a toehold in our communities. We must act in a communal spirit of love and fellowship that acts as a killing frost. We must create our own frost pockets of goodness.
    With our help, the tide will turn. Already, there is an undertow of mercy at work scrubbing evil from our hearts, washing the meanness of the 20 th century – the greed, the self-indulgence, the fear – safely out to sea. This sandblasting of a new heaven and a new earth in the 21 st century will take some time, requiring from all of us patience, courage, hope, forbearance, love, black flies—and a sense of humor.
    And in the meanwhile, the folks of Sovereign will keep their doors unlocked.
     

Chapter 5
    Mike Hobart
     
    Shortly before dusk on that same Friday, our hero, 30-year-old Mike Hobart, pulled his late model baby blue pickup truck into the near-empty parking lot at Gilpin’s General Store, a 110-year-old mercantile situated, as I have mentioned, about halfway into the bounded settlement of Sovereign on Route 9/202. During Sovereign’s heyday of 1910-1950 (when the population broke the 2,000 threshold), five general stores operated in strategic locations around the 10-square-mile settlement, including two near the old train station. Now, however, only Gilpin’s remained. Yet sadly even this legendary landmark was threatened with extinction, thanks to the advent of big box stores and the ever-widening shock waves of the Great Recession.
    Hobart, a self-employed carpenter who lived “off the grid” in Sovereign in a post and beam cabin he built himself, hopped from his 4-wheel-drive pickup. The six-foot, well-muscled Hobart, a handsome, steady man, inhaled deeply, drawing the pleasant scent of wood smoke deep into his lungs. He pulled his denim jacket closer around his muscular chest and tugged his Boston Red Sox cap down over his neatly-cropped, dark-blond curls. The February sun had set, and he felt the winter chill creeping into his jean-clad legs. Hobart kicked a frozen snowplow remnant out of his path sending shards of icy snow scattering like marbles across the parking lot. “Score!” he said aloud.
    Hobart strode confidently through the double-glass fronted door of Gilpin’s and called out a greeting to the owner. “Hey, Ralph! Where are ya?” The store smelled like Murphy® Oil Soap, and Hobart knew that business must be slow since Ralph Gilpin was cleaning again. He took off his leather gloves and stuffed them into his back pocket.
    “Ain’t likely to be too far off,” replied the wizened shopkeeper, hustling up to the front with a floor mop in hand. Ralph Gilpin, 76, great-grandson of the