Living Right on Wrong Street Read Online Free PDF

away from the mirror and stared the talking head down.
    The man couldn’t have been any more than five feet five, about one hundred forty pounds, with a hairline that had withdrawn from the crest of his dome. Wax was where hair had been. His face was ranch-dressing white, his expression was calm and his demeanor somewhat inviting.
    â€œHere, take this,” the man said, tossing Delvin a Gideon New Testament that was palm-sized with a Hunter green pleather cover. It flew between the bars, landing on the bunk. “My name’s Shiloh Kimmons, the prison chaplain.”
    â€œYou mean—”
    â€œYeah, something like that.”
    Delvin was going to call him the prison’s God lunatic. “Who asked you to come see me?”
    â€œNo one has to ask—the first time. Most people here don’t know to ask because they don’t believe they need someone greater than themselves. So, I’ll come the first time. After that, it’s up to you.” Shiloh pointed to the Bible. “Read it and let the words stir your mind. And if you want, we’ll talk later ... if you want.”
    Delvin sighed in bitterness.
    â€œMr. Storm, you’ll never find in the Bible where Jesus ever ran after a person, forcing them to accept what He had to say. His words are a light. And what better place to come to the light than in prison?”
    â€œThe warden said the same thing.”
    â€œThe warden’s talking about his authority. What I’m talking about isn’t in the same league, and you know it.”
    Shiloh’s words brewed inside Delvin. He was convinced that the chaplain was at least worthy enough to break his silence. “I’ll get back to ya.”
    â€œRemember that the Word doesn’t need you, Mr. Storm. You need it.”
    Delvin watched Shiloh walked off in a slow, almost inaudible pace until he was out of sight. Inside his cell, midway between the mirror and the Bible, the atmosphere engulfed his flesh. He felt as though a decision was being squeezed out of him.
    All consciousness moved to Delvin’s legs; they no longer belonged to him. In the prison’s darkness, he moved toward the Bible.

Chapter 3
    Man goeth forth unto his work and to his labor until the evening.
    Psalms 104:23
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    On the following Friday, Job sat in the Paradise Valley School District’s office, awaiting his opportunity for a final interview and decision from the Human Resources department.
    Monica announced, during dinner the evening before, that Nine Iron Golf and Resorts had hired her as reservations manager.
    After twenty minutes, he found himself across the desk from Assistant Superintendent Buddy McManus, as he thumbed through the employment file.
    Buddy was medium height with a stocky physique and a jovial disposition that eased Job from feeling like he was trapped in a vacuum.
    Buddy had taken advantage of every modern vanity technique with his mousse, slick, black hair coloring, and manicured nails with an onyx ring on his pinky. “I’ve got a few minutes. Let me show you around, Mr. Wright.”
    He began to tell Job about the family pictures on his desk. Then there was a brief tour of the massive suite with offices, a library, conference room, and file room with electronic and hard copies. Buddy’s office had a wall-length aquarium filled with Characins, African butterfly fish and other exotic water life. One wall was lined with a contemporary collection of Southwestern art by Ballentine, Applegate, and others.
    Job pointed to Dancers Thinking . “Wonderful piece.”
    â€œIt’s my favorite.”
    Job thought about the times when he not only appreciated finer acquisitions, but could also afford them. “I would have to put out my entire salary to deck a house out like this.”
    â€œC’mon, Mr. Wright, you ... umm,” he paused, flipping through Job’s file, “were a real estate agent. Didn’t you make pretty