Just a week out of prison, he often thought how lucky he was. Ma loved him, would do anything for him. Even let him stay with her while she cooked for him and washed his clothes--and asked nothing in return.
"It's outside," she said.
"What's outside?"
"Go find out, son."
In the back yard was a scraggly looking bush he'd never seen before. His mother prayed some more, and the bush burst into flame. The flame shot up and up, almost touching a low cloud.
"It's your Salvation, son. Bow down and worship."
"Damned if I will do any such a stupid thing!"
The bush began to grow, shooting up into the air as it threw off sparks of fire. Wally fell back, mouth agape. The bush burned up and up, and in the flames he could make out a dark figure, a something taller than buildings. The figure leaned down, extended unbelievably long arms, scooped Wally up and carried him into the dizzying heights.
Inside the house, Wally's mother, eyes closed, continued to pray, hoping that her prayers would soon be answered.