516 words
by James L. Fox

The townspeople of Clifton, Georgia were both intrigued and confused by the actions of their new Minister.

After Reverend Fielding died, everyone thought the new Minister Reverend Beloit would just be a younger version of the old.

The day of his arrival he walked the full length of Main street, his cape billowing behind in the March wind; stopping in front of the church, he posted a notice:

"Services normally held at 8:00 A.M. will be held at 8:00 P.M. Parishioners will spend the day reflecting on the Commandments. Be prepared for a lengthy discourse. Looking forward to your presence, Jason Beloit."

Sunday evening service was packed. Faces, not seen for many weeks, were eagerly waiting for a glimpse of this strange new minister. Sarah Wilson, the wife of the town banker thought, as she gazed at Jason Beloit entering the pulpit, "God! what a handsome devil. So tall and regal looking with those dark curls and broad shoulders. I wonder why he has those sad eyes and such a bitter mouth."

"Friends ... Neighbors ...," he started, "When good Christians are filled with His spirit, the vibrations are good, and everyone gives off an aura which can almost be seen."

"I like to keep pictures of my congregation on my mantle; therefore, I want you to lift your faces and praise the Lord, while my secretary takes pictures then we'll begin the service."

They complied for several minutes while the woman snapped numerous photos.

Suddenly the doors flew open, a woman carrying the bleeding body of a young girl rushed down the isle, and screamed, "Oh God! somebody help me. That dirty nigger raped my baby and cut her throat." She collapsed sobbing on the raised platform at Jason's feet. She appeared to be trying to stop the flow of blood from a gaping gash in the child's throat.

"Who's the bastard, who did it?" cried Ted Wilson, the banker.

"He did ... He did!" screamed the woman, pointing to a young black. His eyes rolled in fright, as he tried in vain to scramble over the back of his pew, but eager clawing hands pulled him back. The crowd went mad, women were trying to reach the struggling man, and the men were pounding him without mercy.

Over a loud speaker, Jason Beloit's voice boomed, "Stop this madness! you are doing Satan's work in the house of the Lord."

Ted Wilson, face contorted, snarled, "Butt out of this, Reverend! This bastard killed the little girl, and he's gonna pay for what he did."

"He's not a killer ... He's my porter, the woman is my sister, and the little girl is a department store manikin. I use them to get pictures of Satan's congregation.

"Each of you will receive both pictures of yourself. My friends I implore you, study them carefully, so that you may know your enemy.

"The service is ended for this week. I'll see you all at the same time next week."