Helping Hands, Part 2

The Richardson’s sedan was parked on the upper level of a lot across from the apartment building. As Ven exited, he saw Quentin standing outside the sedan, his head held high as he smiled, his head turned towards the rear of the car. The sun was low in the spring sky, and was positioned directly behind Quentin’s head as Ven approached. Quentin turned toward Ven, but the older man’s features were obliterated by the sun’s brilliance; all Ven saw was the silhouette  of Quentin’s face, surrounded by a corona of light.

“Venerable!” Amoung Ven’s friends, Quentin was one of the few who addressed the young man by his full name. “The weather’s perfect, such a good day to move!”

Ven stopped at the curb, and put his hands in his pockets. “Just lucky, I guess.”

Quentin’s silhouette lifted its chin. “I believe the Lord is favoring you this day. You should thank Him, for His approval.”

“Huh.” The memory of an argument at a Bible study group during his junior year came to Ven; he shook his head, returning his attention to the present. “Forecast says there’s a front coming through this afternoon. Might be rain.”

“Really?” Quentin took a few steps to his right, the full force of the sun slamming into Ven’s eyes, causing him to blink. “Then perhaps, we should not hesitate.”

“VEN!” The sound of Hannah’s excited voice drew the young man’s attention down, to the street-level exit of the lot. Hannah, 11, and Nicholas, 9, ran towards Ven, their arms stretched wide. A cautionary voice spoke in Ven’s mind; he looked quickly in both directions of the street, but saw no approaching vehicles. Lowering himself down to one knee, he let the Richardson’s two older children tackle him in a frenetic embrace.  

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