The River Flows On. Ivan Watson

of it, he felt he had nothing more to get out of it. The relationship had run for a good six months. He was just waiting for an opportune moment to break the news to her.

      He thought of the first time he had met her.

      *****

      While on a Sunday-morning stroll down Four Foot Road, he heard singing emanating from the Church of Salvation of the New Testament. Jason liked singing. He recalled his days with Auntie Cleo at her church in Georgetown. He hummed to himself as the congregation, with lifted voices, sang:

      Come home, come home

      Ye who are weary, come home

      Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling

      Calling O sinner, come home

      The church soon emptied. The pastor’s wife came out to the street to have parting words with the congregants. She saw Jason standing at the side of the road.

      “Young man, can I invite you to come to our service? I am Mrs. Joan Turnbull, the pastor’s wife. Call me sister Joan though.” She flashed a welcoming smile.

      Jason was surprised at her assertiveness. He cleared his throat.