Read People Who Knock on the Door for Free Online Page B

his parents had gone to church perhaps twice a month, Robbie had been parked in the Sunday School class in an adjoining room of the church. Arthur had wriggled out of Sunday School around the age of ten, and his parents had not been difficult about it, but now things were different. It crossed Arthur’s mind that his father was bringing Robbie to the adults’ service as if to say, “Behold my son, alive and well!” Robbie squirmed and twitched during the Reverend Cole’s sermon, which could last half an hour or more. Robbie glanced at his mother as if to ask when would it be over, twiddled the hymn books in the slot on the back of the pew in front of him, and that Sunday he dropped a book flat down on the floor with a loud bang just when the Reverend had paused for a few seconds. It sounded as if somebody in the congregation had had enough, and Arthur had to stifle a laugh.
    Then after church, his mother worked with a little extra speed in the kitchen to prepare Sunday dinner, which was always more elaborate than their evening dinners. His father, inspired by just having been to church, brought a glossy magazine called Plain Truth from the living room and looked through it, searching for something to read aloud, Arthur feared. Arthur was in the kitchen to set the table, swing the lettuce, to keep the sink clear for his mother’s work. They hadn’t a dish-washing machine, as had Maggie’s family. Arthur imagined Maggie and her family at this minute installing themselves at a nice table in a hotel dining room after a morning of tennis or swimming.
    “Listen to this,” said Richard, leaning against a sideboard from which Arthur just then had to get paper napkins from a drawer.
    Arthur made a gesture with his finger, and his father stepped aside.
    “A quote from Isaiah,” said Richard, “‘The earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.’ A simple thought, but a profound one, happy one,” Richard said, glancing at Lois who was lifting a roasted chicken from the oven. She had partially cooked it before church. Richard looked at the roasting pan, its edges garnished with browned potatoes and onions, and smiled his appreciation.
    “Call Robbie, would you, Arthur?”
    Arthur walked through his father’s study, and saw his brother running like a colt, whipping a long twig against a leg as if beating himself onward. “Hey, Robbie! Dinner!”
    Heels down, Robbie jolted to a halt and tossed the switch aside. He had put on sneakers, but still wore his Sunday best suit.
    When Arthur returned to the kitchen, his father was moving toward the table but had found another passage. “This is funny. They’re talking about the time when Christ returns. ‘Think—what will be one of the worst problems people will have in the millennium? It will probably be the tendency to gain weight! There will be such an abundance of food and drink that some people are very likely going to grow a little too fat. Of course one of the laws of health is that gluttony is wrong.’ Fine thing to be reading just as we’re sitting down, isn’t it?” Richard beamed at his wife.
    They seated themselves on benches and chairs. Heads bowed.
    “Father, we thank Thee for our bread and meat. God bless those who walk in Thy name. Let us be—thankful for yet one more day of Thy loving care for us. Amen.”
    “Amen,” murmured Lois.
    When the plates were served, Lois said, “Robbie, you shouldn’t be running around like a wild Indian, when just a couple of days ago you were in bed. You should see your face.”
    Robbie’s face was pink. And his lips were already shiny with chicken fat, his mouth so full, he couldn’t reply.
    Richard had laid Plain Truth aside on Arthur’s bench and was concentrating on his plate. Then he lifted his face and said to Lois, “No comment from you on our gluttony?”
    Did he mean that as a joke, Arthur wondered. Nobody was plump in the family except his father.
    “When they say,