Dante Defeats Truman

      It was a colder morning than usual in Los Angeles and Dante felt every shiver of it. His well worn jacket was worthless in the wind and all of the good spots were taken while he made his way back hours later than usual to the familiar neighborhood of stone and glass. He'd spent the last month in and out of the Korean church on the corner of 4th and New Hampshire and though he couldn't understand a word that was said he liked the music so much he knew the drinking had to stop. Dante would sit quietly in the back away from everyone else so as not to offend their sense of smell and from there saw time after time how Jack and Johnny would coax his friends to be a distraction to the congregation. More than once he aided the staff in ejecting the troublemakers when it was time and even Pastor Nam began to recognize Dante as part of their body.

A sharply dressed usher came up to him after and thanked him for his service.

"Please feel welcome here. We have a food share program you may benefit from." he said.

Dante could not understand his english and responded in Slovene.

"Ubil sem zlobenega moža." 

Months ago it wouldn't have mattered. He could've done the thing and forgotten it before morning. But months ago maybe he wouldn't have done it at all. He had the benefit of a clearer mind now and though the years of abuse had taken their toll on his once stalwart body his mind bounced back with stirring agility. He had regrets and fears that hadn't plagued him since Detroit and the summer his wife left him. The world he'd stacked up only to see it fall at his own hand was again visible through the glaze of addiction that banished him to the streets sixteen years ago. 

This was it! he thought. My villain. Satan my Satan. But there was a window of course, he could not hold out forever to find a replacement. The medication was so effective that he'd previously doubted anything else could take it's place, but Pastor Nam would know.

For the first time in his life Dante entered the church with a goal in mind. He must find a replacement for the alcohol. The police would find him someday. He would be punished and rightfully so. He'd done the deed in cold blood and left behind a footprint to prove it. Until they could catch him he would share the love he'd found in Christ and while he knew he could not stop the evil of this world he could participate in the redemption of it.

"Prayer." said Nam.

Dante knew this word. He didn't understand it but if he ever learned English he would understand it less. Nam prayed with him for forgiveness, not because he knew what Dante had done but because Nam was a killer too.