Introduction
Although we are led to believe that good always triumphs over evil, let’s not be naïve, “evil wins a lot.” Don’t think because you are on the side of good all will end well. Winning a few battles but losing the war, is not a victory.
Even though the Cain and Abel (Murder) story was the first to be entered into the history book of mankind (The Bible), it was not on the scale of the mass executions that have occurred over the past nine thousand years. Although the story you are about to read has evil being the victor of many battles, history will, “as always” show that the war is ultimately won by “Good”, because if “God” is for us, who can be against us.

The Cain and Abel Diaries
Diary 1
Chapter 1

New York 2001
It’s 11:30pm and I just got in from working late at my new job with a demolition company. I moved to the big city from a little place called Bracken. Don’t try to find it, because like a lot of Midwestern towns it’s too small to show up on a map, but that suites the 187 residents just fine thank you very much.
Oh, by the way, my name is John, John Boyle. I’m a writer or should I say a wannabe writer. Like I said it’s late and I’m very tired, but I’m also excited about something I found in the basement of an old church we’re tearing down to make way for a bunch of new condos. Anyway, I think I’ve uncovered a collection of diaries written by someone who lived or worked at the church back in the 1930’s and 40’s, and my find fits in with a story I heard today.
When we were on our lunch break, the job foreman Randy Morris said he had something to tell us about the old building. He said it was built by immigrants around 1895. It was a people’s church and for about forty-years it was the center of community life in the area. That is until 1924, when something happened that started a chain of events that lead to a major battle between good and evil.
The story goes like this. There was a massacre one summer Sunday night and some ministers and a few young local boys were murdered by a possessed “Man of the Cloth.” The police at the time arrested and executed an innocent man named “Roger Cameron” who just happened to be the father of two boys named Cain and Abel. If you remember your history, these were the twin brothers who most people believe had a fight to the death over good and evil and the love of a pretty girl.
You guys might want to check out the place when you get back to work. Apparently if you look close enough you can see the blood stains on the walls and some areas of the floor where it ran down and formed little pools of crimson red.
Nobody moved or said a word as Randy finished his campfire story and then just stood up and walked away shaking his head.
I don’t know about any of the other guys, but I didn’t check out the walls or the floor, as a matter of fact I avoided any area that wasn’t in the center of the big room.
It was getting late and I was looking forward to going home and having a nice shower, something to eat, maybe watch an hour of TV and then hit the hay early for a change. But no such luck today. My friend Jim and I had just hauled a big load of scrap out of the building and started walking to his truck when the guy who drives the bulldozer came over to us and said the Forman was looking for us. He said, he told him that the last time he saw us we were sleeping, and if he wanted, he would go and wake us up. Then he laughed and said, you boys have a nice evening and I’ll see you in the morning.
I found Randy in the trailer talking to one of the company bosses and he told me to wait outside and he’d be with me in a minute. When he finally came he said I need you and your friend Jim to work late tonight.
Jim was not impressed when I told him that we were going to spend the evening in the old haunted house. Smiling he said; did you remind him that there is no electricity in the place? Yes, I did and he said the supply truck will be here in an hour with a generator and some big trouble lights.
Well, how about dinner or does he expect us to work on an empty stomach? No, he asked me what I wanted and I said; a steak with all the trimmings and I ordered you a peanut butter sandwich and a cold glass of milk.
While we waited for the generator to arrive and there was still plenty of daylight left, I decided to do a little exploring.
I must admit I was feeling a little uneasy as I entered the basement through an old oak door that had seen better days. There was enough light coming in through the three small windows in the hallway that I didn’t need to turn on my flashlight. Then I got to the area where I had a choice to go down a dark corridor or stay in the half lit one, I had been in. I guess my spirit of adventure over ruled any fear of the unknown that was hiding in the dark waiting to jump out at me.
I had only gone about ten feet when I came to a door with a big lock and chain, although it appeared to be secure it was obviously antique. I also noticed it could only be opened by one of those old skeleton keys.
To my surprise it only took one blow from my trusty hammer to fall on the floor, in about a dozen pieces.
The big wooden door squeaked and moaned as I pushed it open with my whole body. It felt like I was in a haunted house one of those scary movies and I was sure I’d see Frankenstein lying on the table.
Shaking my head and laughing out loud, I checked my vivid imagination up to being a writer.
I was a little disappointed when I turned on my flashlight and only saw a bed, a chair and a small writing desk. The first thing I thought of was how do I get this stuff to an antique dealer and get a few bucks. As I shined my light along the floor, I noticed a wooden box next to the table and when I knelt down I could see three words written on the top in red paint “The Shanty Diaries.”
My heart started pounding and I dropped the flashlight because I trying to open the box with both hands, while holding the light under my chin. Although it didn’t go completely out it was very dim but it came back to life when I hit it a few times on my hand.
After picking it up and putting it on table, I could see that there were some old notebooks or as they used to call them in the old days “scribblers.” My hand was shaking a little as I opened the first book and read; these diaries are a record of the life in “Shanty Town” a place that everyone just called “The Shanty.” They also tell the story of twin boys called “Cain and Abel” who take different journeys through life. One twin “Cain” follows the path of darkness and becomes a follower of Satan. The other twin “Abel” chose to walk in the light and become a child of “God”.
I was a little disappointed when I heard Jim calling me from the top of the stairs, saying; “come and get it sleepy head” the supply truck’s here with our food and the night lights.
He gave me a look when I came out of the basement carrying the old box. What do you have there “Mr. Packrat?” Nothing you’d be interested in “Mr. never got out of grade six.”
Well, the time went very slow and the night was really a waste, because we didn’t get much work done and I was sure Randy wouldn’t be very impressed with our progress.
Anyway, I didn’t get home until about 11pm and although I was tired, dirty and a little bit hungry, I couldn’t help opening the box and laying all of the notebooks on the coffee table. I picked up number 1and started reading where I left off, before I was rudely interrupted by my follow worker Jim.
My name is Ronnie Stinger and although I am writing these diaries, they are not about me; they’re about the twins “Cain and Abel.” I was born in the same year as them, in 1910, and like them I grow up in “The Shanty.” Everything up until we turned fourteen was as normal as could be considering the times, we were living in.
Like I said this is their story, so I may as well start at the beginning.

New York City 1910
It’s snowing hard, and there isn’t any movement except items being blown around by the wind. A figure in black can be seen in the distance, because of the contrast against a blanket of white. The snowflakes dance around in a frenzy as the out-of-control wind whips them around the corner of the shanty shacks the poor people call home.
As the person in black tries to cross the now almost unrecognizable road, the wind was so strong it literally lifted the bundle of dark material up in the air, and then just laid it gently on a blanket of white powder.
For a few moments there wasn’t any movement and the small black pile was soon covered with snow and may have been lost until spring when the ice and snow gave way to the bright spring sun. But that was not to be on this day. All of a sudden, the snow was being disturbed and the bundle of black material rose like a giant whale as it breaks the surface of the water to catch its breath.
A door is opened just enough for a hand to reach out and beckon the figure inside.
When the scarf and overcoat is removed, we see a small but well-built young woman standing there. It’s Emily Louis Borderman a midwife, one of a handful of women who have dedicated their life to helping newborns have a fighting chance to make it in a cruel bleak world.
The tall thin women who had opened the door said; thank you for coming out on a day like this, you are most certainly a God send. Then with a ghost of a smile and in almost a whisper as she walked toward the bedroom she said; I guess that’s why people around here gave you the nickname “Angel”.
Emily took control right away and said out loud, we’re going to need lots of hot water and some clean towels. Then she walked over to the bed and said I’m Emily and I’m here to help you, and if you do everything I say, you’ll have a healthy baby.
Where do you want me to put the water and towels? Just put them over there on the night stand. I’m a little concerned, how long has she had this fever? I didn’t get your name, oh, it’s Shirley, I’m Rebecca’s sister-in-law, she’s married to my brother Roger.
I live close by and I’ve been checking in on her every few days and until last night she was okay, but when I checked on her this afternoon, I found her on the floor and I could see that she was sweating. I didn’t know what to do so I sent for you.
I’ll need a cold cloth, we need to get the fever down, because she won’t have enough strength and we could lose her and her baby or by the size of her belly, her twins.
A few hours went by before Rebecca opened her eyes. Angel gave her a big smile and then said, you had us worried, but you’re going to be alright now.
Did you know you were having twins? I guess I did by the size of this! She had put her two hands on her midsection and then let out a little laugh. Angel put her hands over Rebecca’s and said; I don’t think it will be much longer before we hear the cries of your beautiful gifts from “God”.
Rebecca’s face showed her sadness as the tears started flowing down her cheeks. We’re having enough trouble just feeding the two of us; I don’t know how we’ll ever get by on what we make at the market, working only one day a week.
It wasn’t long after the women talked that Rebecca started having her contractions and then just before midnight her water broke.
At five minutes to twelve the first little head appeared and then the rest of the body followed. It’s a boy, it’s a boy cried “Angel” but quickly stopped talking and got back to work, because the second head wanted to make its entrance into the world.
Shirley was waving her arms and pointing to the clock on the dresser trying to get the attention of Nurse Emily and the happy mother. With a big smile on her face, she said; ladies we have a problem. Well, maybe we don’t, but the twins might have some fun explaining how they could be identical when one of them is a year older than the other. Rebecca gave her a look and said; how do you figure that dear sister. Easy, it’s New Year’s Eve and the first boy was born at five minutes to twelve and the second just after twelve. So actually, they are one year apart.
After the laughter died down, “Angel” asked Rebecca if she had names picked out? Well, I just found out that I have twins, so I haven’t giving it much thought. She went quiet as she squeezed her two bundles of joy. After a few minutes she said; well, I had decided that if I had a boy, I would call him Joshua, so I’ll stay with the Bible and call them Richard “Cain” Cameron and Ronald “Abel” Cameron. I’m sure daddy Cameron will be okay with me picking out the boy’s names, that is when he wakes up after fainting when he sees his two sons.
Roger was excited as he took off his coat and hat and stood in the kitchen of the families little two room apartments. He was listening for a clue as to whether he was the proud father of a new son or daughter, but what he heard was two very loud cries and he knew it wasn’t an echo as he walked into the bedroom.
The first person he saw was Shirley and beside her was Emily, but he didn’t have to ask who she was as he looked at his wife lying in bed with both arms filled with crying piles of blankets.
Hi honey, come here and meet your two big boys.
Sitting down on the bed Roger didn’t know which bundle of noise to hold first, so he just gave his wife a kiss on the forehead and then held out his hands and waited till he was given his first son and then made a sign that he had room for the second one. Immediately they stopped crying and a look of peace came on their faces, as the proud father held them close to his chest. He looked at his beautiful wife and whispered “I love you” and then closed his eyes and cried inside of his fatherly heart.
Handing his son’s back to their mother, Roger sat back and said; did you give my boys names yet? Yes, my dear I did. This little fellow is our first born so I called him Richard “Cain” and this one I call Ronald “Abel” is that okay with you? I guess if those names were good enough for Adam and Eve to give their sons, who am I to argue.
When they were alone Roger held his wife and said; I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you tonight, but I promise I’ll be right by your side to help raise our two handsome boys.
Spring came early that year and everyone was happy that they didn’t get a late snow storm like last year, because it was still cold until the end of April.
The Cameron’s lived in Shanty Town or as most people called it the “Shanty” with about eighty-thousand other immigrants. Actually, they should have put up a sign saying; welcome to the “Slums” the end of the road. Most people left their homelands believing they could make a living for themselves and their families, only to be herded like starving cattle into a world where even animals wouldn’t want to live.
The “Shanty” was located on the lower eastside. To the west was a strip of parkland called “Greenwood Forest” that separated the city from the slums. On the east side was the factories (sweatshops) and to the south were the docks. But the most over powering sight was the “Black Rose Castle.” This hundred room mansion would rival any great palace, in any country over the past five thousand years.
There was one landmark separating the castle from the “Shanty” and that was “Market Street.” This was no ordinary street; it was more like a forty-foot-wide strip of paved road that went from “Greenwood Forest” to the factories. It literally separated the rich from the poor.
The “Shanty” was filled to the brim with almost every nationality one could imagine. They came by the boatloads and from every state in the union. All they brought with them was a small bag or box and a heart full of dreams. Oh, they also brought their customs and beliefs and any built-up hatred for their fellow human beings.
This created an almost impossible atmosphere for the local police to control. This allowed crime to not only exist but to flourish, and a place where only the strong would survive.
If someone was to observe Roger Cameron at home with his family, they would think he was a meek and mild-mannered man. But that would be their first and last biggest mistake of their life. John could, when necessary, transform from the mild Dr. Jackal into the animal Mr. Hide. When he stepped outside of his home, he was a force to reckon with. His six-foot-one, two-hundred-and-twenty-pound frame stood out in any crowd.
As if this massive figure wasn’t enough to instill fear in any group of even the meanest residents within twenty miles, Roger had a friend and his name was Mickey “No Neck” Yu. He was not your typical small Chinese man. Standing only about five-foot-three wouldn’t be intimidating, but you add two-hundred and eighty pounds of pure muscle to a body that had no neck, hence the nickname “No Neck” and you better move out of his way. Another trait he had was that he was a man of few words, so if you saw him you didn’t try to start a conversation, but you might get away with a node, that is if he was in a good mood. A few people caught him at the wrong time and paid the price. He could be compared to a wrecking machine that never went around anything in his life.
This deadly duo had the respect of every person living in the “Shanty” and of course their reputation was known within a one-hundred-mile radius.
There was one thing that puzzled most people when they either knew the pair or heard of them and that was; they were very honest men who usually stood up for the underdog. Of course, it was a different story for anyone who showed disrespect to them or, anyone who couldn’t fight back.
The “Shanty” was not a safe place in the day; but that paled compared to the night. Anyone caught out after dark was fair game to the night stalkers. The night was even more terrifying because the whole area was divided into sections or territories. Every area had its own gangs and any strangers who ventured within, never lived to see the light of day. There were two exceptions to the “Shanty” rule, Roger Cameron and his sidekick Mr. “No Neck.” This duo could go anywhere, anytime without asking.
Anyway, I got a little off track with my story. I told you about Market Street, but I didn’t mention the market that was held on this street every Saturday and Sunday. There were three categories of people connected to the market. You were a supplier, a seller or a buyer. Once you made your choice it was very hard to change and be something else. If you were a supplier or a seller that was considered to be your profession and something you would pass on to members of your family as they came of age. Most sellers would spend their week gathering goods to sell on Saturday. Roger Cameron was a seller and as such, he had to wheel and deal every day to make a living.
Did you notice that I said Roger and his family were sellers on Saturday, but the market was open on Sunday as well? Sunday’s market was open only to pagans, devil worshipers and sellers of black magic and of course the buyers of these goods and services. There was never a shortage of unbelievers ready to spend whatever price (including their souls) to get a glimpse of their future.
Things didn’t change much in the “Shanty” including getting old. Let’s just say there weren’t any old folks’ homes in the area, as a matter of fact people didn’t live to a ripe old age. Mostly because of sickness due to the long hard winters and the lack of not just healthy meals, but food of any kind was hard to come by.
Like I said in the beginning of this diary, I needed to set the stage for the rest of my story and you the reader, needed to know this information about the twins in order to understand how the ending turns out the way it does. Good wins in the end, but not without a fight to the death between two brothers, who made good and bad choices on their journeys through life.

Fourteen years later
I will now tell you my story, but only to where I meet the now fourteen-year-old twins. I’m in the rest of this tale, but only to write the details so that future generations can maybe learn some lessons about the struggles (battles) that have been going on since time began. It will only be over when our Lord comes back and destroys the Prince of Darkness and sends him to his fiery prison for all time.
Like the twins, I grew up in the “Shanty” but with less family and community support. I did however have a few good years when I was working on one of the farms just outside the city. After everyone worked a twelve-hour day one of the women who worked in the “Big House” would stay up late and teach me how to read and write. I’m sure you don’t think I’m writing these diaries at the young age of fourteen. It wasn’t until I was in my twenties that I received any formal education.
Enough that’s enough talk on that subject. As I was saying, I didn’t have a choice between a family life; and the cruel streets. You see I didn’t know my father and my Mom died when I was five years old. By the time I was eight I was street wise and with a little help, I soon became one of the best pick pockets in the “Shanty.” Oh, one other thing I was good at was telling a hard luck story. I could tell a tear-filled yarn so convincing; it would make the “Hangman” drop his rope and cry like a baby.
There was one man who did give me a break and his name was Sammy “The Jazzman” Jackson. He was the janitor at one of the churches and we met one night when I was trying to relieve the holly place of the few pennies that they collected from telling the locals about “God”.
I thought I was all alone in the office and because it was late I guess I made too much noise. I turned quickly when I heard a voice say; do you know the eight commandment boy? It was very dark in the room and the only light was from the moon coming through a small window above the big oak desk. God said; “thou shall not steal” so you are either here to make a donation, or you are planning to take something that does not belong to you.
This time I could see a shadow and by the voice I knew it was a man. When he came toward me, I could see that he was holding something in his hand, but I couldn’t make out what it was. My mind was racing and I was shaking all over. What if this guy has a knife or a gun and he’s protecting the place, he could kill me and hide my body and no one would ever know. I stopped thinking and started running toward the exit, but he was too fast and his big frame blocked my path and I just stood there waiting for him to make the next move.
He didn’t move for a long time, so I said I’ve got twelve big friends waiting outside for me, so you better let me go or I’ll call them and then you’ll be sorry. I was relieved when the man struck a match and lit the oil lamp he was holding. I’ve been watching you since you came in the side door and I didn’t see anyone else outside waiting for you to bring out the goods.
When my eyes adjusted to the light, I could see that the stranger was a black man who stood well over six-foot. Besides the lamp he had an old army bugle that he was pointing at me. You hungry son, do you want something to eat? I just shook my head and he turned around and opened the door and said follow me.
When we got to an open area my first thought was to run, but something inside me said that this guy didn’t mean me any harm and I sure was hungry.
I followed him down some stairs and along a dark hallway to a small room. All that was in there was a bed, a chair and a small desk.
I don’t have much, but you’re welcome to it. He handed me a plate with some bread and a piece of hard cheese. To anyone else it would have been a good start, but to me it was like a feast, a meal fit for a king.
After standing in the doorway for a while watching me eat his food, he started walking away but turned his head toward me and said; you can sleep here tonight and in the morning we can talk. He came back and grabbed the doorknob and slowly closed the door without looking at me.
Even with the door closed I could hear music playing, and it was so soothing that as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was fast asleep.
You gonna sleep all day son? I sat straight up when I heard the voice, but I was having a problem trying to figure out where I was. I rubbed my eyes a few times and everything came back to me.
Do you want me to leave sir? I don’t have any money to pay you for letting me stay here and for the food. You don’t owe me nothing, and I can see that you don’t have two pennies to rub together.
I’ve seen you around the market many times and I watched you plying your trade. You’re a good at pick pocketing, but you shouldn’t take stuff that doesn’t belong to you. All that will get you is a cell down at the local jail and I’m speaking from experience when I say the place isn’t fit for a big or any other farm animal.
So I’ll make you and offer, but you only get one chance to accept. You can stay here and earn your keep and if you do a little extra now and then, you’ll be given a few pennies for your pocket or you can leave with what you came with and continue your life on the street.
I’ve got some chores to do, so I’ll leave you with your thoughts. When I come back if you’re still here we have a deal, if you’re not, I wish you luck, but remember if you leave, you’ll never be able to stay here again. I left him a note saying, thanks for being so nice to me, but the street is the only home I’ve ever really known. I don’t mix well with good people, especially church going ones.
A strange thing happened when I was back on the streets for a few days. Things were different, I felt like I didn’t belong and not just with my old hangouts, but my friends that I knew all my life seemed like strangers. Maybe it was me that was changing and not them. Another thing bothered me a lot was I couldn’t get Sammy out of my mind and I guess I was regretting turning down his offer to help me get my life together.
Anyway, I thought if I spent some time with the guys, I would be my old self.
When I walked into the clubhouse, well it wasn’t a real meeting place like businessmen have; it was more of a hangout for neighborhood kids. You see, the “Shanty” was divided up into small areas and people from different countries like the English, Irish and Italians and all the rest would get together and make a bunch of streets their territory, a place for their families and friends to live. If you didn’t belong to any area, you either stayed down near the waterfront railroad tracks or if you had a trade, something you were good at, like making stuff, you might be asked to live with a group that needed you.
Oh yah, another thing everyone from the “Shanty” knew and respected was that anyone could, as long as they didn’t act up or cause trouble; go anywhere they wanted during the day, but once it got dark you better not get caught in the wrong part of town.
There were some exceptions to this rule like guys they call enforcers who were hired by locals to handle any trouble in their areas that they couldn’t handle or they didn’t want to get their hands dirty. Another person who could go anywhere, anytime, where kid’s people called “Runners” and I was one of them. Because we were young boys they didn’t see us as a threat. The club I just walked into was filled with my fellow messengers. The first guy I saw was “Billy the Brat” and he called me over and after asking me where I had been for a few days, he pointed to a group over in the far corner of the room and then he turned his back and in almost a whisper said; you see the man in the black coat, he says his name is Mr. DeVil and he has a big job coming up and could use about a dozen young and tuff guys who didn’t mind getting their hands dirty, he said he would pay good money for a few hours work. Anyway, things got a little quiet when “Shorty McGowan” hollered out, mister our hands couldn’t get any dirtier if we worked in the coal mines. The man just gave him a look that sent chills down everybody’s backs.
We’re going to rob the church on Skitter Street near the market this Sunday night. We may not need them, but I’ll be handing out guns and knives and maybe a hatchet or two just in case.
It took a few minutes, but then my heart skipped a beat when I realized that the church this guy was talking about was the one where Sammy lived and worked.
My first reaction was to just leave and not get involved, but I knew I would hate myself if I just stood by and let someone at the church get hurt. Sammy was too nice a person to get hurt or maybe even killed.
I had another problem, a big situation. If I ratted on my friends I was as good as dead. If you turn your back on your family, you had better be leaving town, or looking to have someone help you leave this world, either way, your life was over.
The more I thought about Sammy, the more I wanted, no needed, to warn him about what was going to happen.
If I got caught…! I shook my head and tried not to think of one of my friends cutting me up like someone did to “Crazy Joey.” Apparently, he told the police that one of the “Runners” from another club killed his cousin and robbed him for his coat and eight cents in change.
After a few days I couldn’t handle it anymore, so I decided to just go to the church and talk to someone. I was sure Sammy didn’t want to see me after I turned his generous offer down.
Two days later I waited until after dark to make my way to the church, but even though it was late at night and very dark, I still felt bad about being a rat until I heard the sound of Sammy’s bugle an a peaceful feeling came over me. From that moment on I knew I was doing the right thing.
The church was dark and only the moon’s light and a few candles kept me from bumping into everything in my path.
I didn’t know if Sammy would listen to me long enough for me to explain what was going to happen in a few days or would he just tell me to leave and not come back?
I sat in the front seat and waited until he finished playing, I sue he knew I was there although he didn’t look my way.
As soon as he finished he looked down at me and without smiling he said, I see your back, but remember what I told you when you were here before, you only get one chance and if you make the wrong one then you have to live with it.
I shook my head and said, I’m not here for me; I know the rules, I came to warn, whoever would listen to me that this place is going to be robbed this coming Sunday night. Maybe it doesn’t matter because whoever tries to stop these guys will either be beaten up or in some cases will not live to see the sun come up on Monday morning.
Why are you bothering to tell us what’s going to happen, you’re not a Christian so why do you care what happens to the people in this old church?
I don’t know why, maybe it’s because you were so nice to me and this is my way to pay you back. Anyway, I don’t think there’s much you can do to stop my friends from wrecking this place and taking anything, they want.
Sammy didn’t say anything, so I just turned and started to walk away. I only got a few feet when I heard Sammy say, have you had anything to eat today? I said sure I had lots of food, but I guess I wasn’t very convincing because he just pointed to the basement door and in a very low voice said, I could finish me supper so if you feel like a little something go right ahead.
It felt good walking down the stairs and along the hallway to Sammy’s room and although I’d only been there once it felt like home and at least for a little while I felt safe.
I guess like the first time I ate a little too fast and when I laid my head on the pillow I was out in less than a minute.
I jumped when Sammy called my name and then it took me a few seconds to get my bearings. The room was dark except for a few candles. It’s almost daylight and you better get going, you don’t want anyone seeing you leave here, or you might be the one in trouble with your friends.
I thanked him again for the food and the soft bed. What are you going to do about Mr. DeVil and Sunday night? The Pastor and his staff are too old to put up a fight, so I guess we’re in God’s hands and besides this is the home of our Lord and His will, will be done.
Most of the talk on the street for the next few days was about Mr. DeVil and how he was going to do so much for the “Shanty”. He was a good talker, so almost everyone wanted to follow him and they didn’t care or ask questions when he gave an order to do something.
Black Sunday
Well Sunday night came all too soon and Mr. DeVil’s little band of misfits seemed overly excited about their first big event. In my heart I was hoping that the church elders were preparing for tonight’s action and maybe even notified the local constabulary and asked them to keep an eye on the neighborhood.
My thought was interrupted by the loud yelling and banging coming from the boy’s as their leader worked them into a frenzy. All it took was one wave of the walking stick the Mr. DeVil was holding and like ants leaving the nest, the out of control young boys left using every exit from the building.
I guess nobody noticed or cared that that there was still three of us left in the room. I knew why I wasn’t joining the crowd but why didn’t these two new comers follow in hot pursuit?
I walked over to where they were sitting and said, my names Ronnie who are you? You look alike, are you twins or what? Yes, I’m Cain and this is my brother Able. This is our first night here and I guess we’re not invited to join in with the other boys, are they playing a game or did that man send them out to work? Well you’re lucky you didn’t go along with them because they are going to rob a church and someone is going to die tonight, I can feel it in my bones.
Cain’s eyes got very bright and without thinking he blurted out, let’s go and watch, I’ve never seen anyone die before? Able turned to him and said, maybe we should just go home; we don’t want to worry Mom.
Cain stood up and gave his brother a little shove then said, you can go home to Mommy but I’m going where the action is. Ronnie, can you take me to the church so I can see what’s going to happen? Sure I can but you may not like what you see.
I guess brothers stick together, because when I looked, I saw Able following close behind.
When we were less than a block away, Able said, wait a minute, I know where we’re going and so do you Cain, it’s our church. I think we should go home and tell Mom and Dad about what’s going on. Look, I’ve already told you I’m going to stay and see what happens; you can run home if you’re too scared to see someone die. Cain went right up to his brother and made a cutting motion with his hand across his throat.
Able said something under his breath and hurried away and was soon out of sight.
When Cain and I got to the church we were surprised to see that nothing was going on. The place looked dark inside except for a few candles in some of the windows.
We waited for what seemed like an hour and I was just about to tell Cain that…

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