Story: The Ridiculous Knight (Part 1)

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All faith reflections stopped abruptly on the avenue where Don lived, or used to live. A black cat walked up to Elise and rubbed her calf. The cat was emaciated. No, I can't believe it. This is Don's cat, Elise said. he's letting her starve to death. This is impossible. I can't be seeing this but I am.

How could he ever be such a brute?

She looked at Dave in a state of melting bewilderment, even her features were moving. Indeed he had never before seen her not in control. It was horrible. He would never have been able to say, before it happened, how unnerving it was to see this woman in distress.

You could say that seeing Elise in a helpless state put him in the same state -- or worse. After all, she was one of his pins, one of the people who kept him pinned and upright. She led the study of scriptures, she discerned things correctly, she spent all her time helping the poor and sorrowful, she knew how to pray without making other people's flesh crawl, she was always always calm. He depended on her to be dependable, always. Seeing her in distress made him come undone. It was as though every 911 phone in the universe was ringing at once.

Here, give her to me, he said. I'll go feed her, he said. (Referring awkwardly to the little cat.)

Yes, but where is Don? Elise asked. What has happened to Don?

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When Dave came back from the convenience store (carrying a round bundle that wanted to get back onto the ground), he found Elise talking to a stranger. She seemed worse than before, more disturbed if possible, and Dave's heart began having -- what was this? Were these palpitations? He did not love her. What he felt for her was a whole lot worse (that is, better) than love.

Elise, calm down. Elise, please. got is still h ere.

The stranger, probably the landlord, was saying: He just disappeared, lady.

I can tell you, miss, it bothers me considerably not having him around.

He was my best tenant.

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When he saw Elise crying, Dave turned *instantly* into the Knight of Courage and Sorrow, a knight out of Spenser or Don Quixote, a ridiculous role for an ex-con, a former criminal, an all-around terrible Christian, such as this worm called himself, but by the time he had ascertained this obvious fact, the armor was already all but buckled on. Never fear. I'll find him, ma'am. This I promise. The little kitten, Tinker Bell, curled around Dave's ankle. This man Don was missing and needed to be found.

TO BE CONTINUED

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