Chapter Twenty-Three

I HIT REDIAL again and again. Still no answer.

I floored the accelerator, fishtailed in the gravel on the side of the road, sped home and all the way up my driveway. I pulled up and parked next to a dark green truck that looked a lot like Lewis’s. I didn’t see him or Petey around. Wow, he got here fast.

There was no sign of Dad or Kenny or either of their trucks. Momma’s station wagon was gone too, but I could see where she had last parked. Our charcoal grill lay in the grass like a wounded beetle.

Weird. The dogs didn’t come running. I heard them bark from behind the barn doors. We never keep them locked up. Momma and Dad wouldn’t do that. Something fishy’s going on. My mouth went dry, because my breathing came fast.

When I got to the front porch the screen door was ajar, and the inside door gaped. No lights on in the kitchen or dining room, but the living room ceiling light was on. It was getting close to dark. In a half hour or so, I knew the yard lights would splash on once they were activated by the timer Dad set to coincide with what the Farmers’ Almanac said about sunset and sunrise.

“Ricky?” I knew Ricky couldn’t answer me, but I felt like I needed to call to him. How did Lewis get here so fast? I thought he was chasing after the other guy who helped beat Ricky. The porch boards creaked and the screen door squeaked as I entered the kitchen. The house felt lonely, hollow. What am I gonna see? I felt along the wall for the light switch, still scanning the rest of the house as best I could. I flipped on the light in the kitchen. The coiled fluorescent bulb buzzed a bit and hesitated before it burned out. I tripped over a kitchen chair that had already been overturned. Momma never leaves a mess in the kitchen and Dad wouldn’t risk it either. I walked through the dining room trying to get a glimpse at the living room. “Ricky? Are you home? Where’s Momma?” I stood in the living room doorway trying to act casual.

“Ricky? Ricky?” He was there, but he wasn’t alone.

The room was a mess. Ricky’s cosmetology case was like an open mouth and his favorite brushes and doodads were scattered across the floor like missing teeth. The end table had been overturned. The coffee table had been pulled away from the couch where we’d made up a bed for Ricky. The blankets, pillows, and Grandma’s quilt were in a heap on the floor. A pitcher of ice water had been spilled. The water soaked into the hardwood floor. A few ice cubes remained, but had melted to pebbles. Someone had bashed the boom box. Shattered CDs littered the floor like glass.

“Come in, Lorraine. You’re early. I’d planned to be finished before you got home.” Finished what? Lewis sat next to Ricky on the couch holding him upright. Ricky’s mouth was bleeding. Then I was shoved further into the room. I snuck a quick look back and Petey blocked the doorway.

“Did you get those college boys? Did you call the sheriff?”

Lewis laughed. “I reckon those boys are back at college enjoying date rape and slapping one another’s ass on the football field like a bunch of faggots.” He took a pull from the bottle of beer he had beside him.

I’d been running on fumes for days. I couldn’t organize my thoughts or senses. I couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing.

Lewis stood up. He pointed to the spot where he’d been sitting. “Come on, have a seat by your little faggot friend.”

“I’m okay standing.”

Lewis stiffened and turn red. “This is my operation, Lorraine. I’m the foreman. If I tell you to sit on the couch, you God damn better sit on the couch!”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” I sat down and turned to Ricky. “Are you all right?”

“Of course, he’s all right. Petey and I were just having a talk with Ricky. We need an advanced showing of what Ricky will say tomorrow. Was it an act of God, an angel of the Lord?”

“You think it God or an angel of the Lord beat Ricky? How much have you been drinking, Lewis?”

“Lorraine, you aren’t an expert on everything. There are men, godly men who know about the acts of God. What happened to Ricky could be an act of God and Ricky needs to bear witness.”

“How can you possibly call the beating he got an act of God? God is love, Lewis.”

Lewis ignored my logic. “Actually, it’s good you’re here, Lorraine. You can use your superior knowledge of animals and perform a little procedure on Ricky.” He reached out to hand me an instrument.

Oh Christ. He had a wire cutter like you’d use on a car.

“I’m not using that dirty thing on Ricky. It’s not intended for the delicate wires used for orthodontic brackets.” I thought I was being reasonable explaining the obvious.

Lewis rubbed his face, took another drink of his beer, and threw the bottle against the wall just above mine and Ricky’s head. We both startled as we were splattered with glass and beer foam.

“You just don’t get it, Lorraine. You aren’t the boss here. I don’t give a shit about all the things you think you know. You cut the wires because I told you to.”

“I’m not doing that.” I turned to Ricky and whispered, “You be ready. When I say run, you scoot across the room to the armchair.”

“What are you saying?” Lewis was on me then. He pulled me up by my shirt. The tips of the wire cutters went through the fabric and cut my chest as Lewis tossed me across the room to where Petey stood. “If you won’t do it, I will.” He knelt on the couch by Ricky. He grabbed Ricky by the chin and turned his head. He pushed Ricky’s lips apart.

When I tried to step forward, Petey grabbed my arm. “Stay right where you are.”

Plink! Lewis clipped a wire. Ricky whimpered. Tears streamed down his face. His eyes rolled back, and I thought he would pass out from the pain and fear but Lewis propped him up again like a hand puppet. “Lorraine, give your cell phone to Petey or I will break Ricky’s neck right now.”

I handed my phone to Petey. Lewis nodded at him and Petey dropped my phone to the floor and stepped on it.

Shit. It took an act of congress to get my first phone. I kept my eyes on Lewis and Ricky.

“Don’t bother running to the landline in the kitchen. That contraption is having some wiring problems too. Wakey, wakey, fairy boy.” Lewis shook Ricky at the shoulders. “We’re almost done.”

“Stop this. Lewis, Petey! When Momma gets here she is going to rip you a new one!”

“Your fat assed momma’s not coming home for a long while. There’s an emergency at the clinic. Didn’t you know?” Lewis kissed Ricky’s cheek and smiled at me.

“Momma wouldn’t leave Ricky alone. She’d have waited until I was home.”

“She’d leave wee Ricky alone if she got a call about an emergency at the clinic and her daughter texted her she’d be right home to sit with Ricky.”

“I never texted that to Momma.”

Lewis pursed his lips and nodded. “Well the text came from your phone.”

How in the hell? Then I remembered. He’d taken my phone at the Lake Tavern to put his number in. Damn, he’d been busy.

Lewis kept talking. “What with that emergency and the fire at the lumber yard, your folks will be tied up a long while.”

“Fire? Was anyone hurt?”

“I don’t know, but my guess it wasn’t too good for your dad. He coughs almost every time he talks. He’s a smoker like me. Filthy habit. That’s why I chew more often now.” Lewis put a plug of tobacco in his cheek.

Tears dripped down my face onto my shirt. I didn’t know what to do next. I wanted to call Momma and Dad. I wanted to help Ricky. “Just leave. Go as far away as your truck will take you. You don’t have to take this any further.”

Lewis quickly clipped another wire and then lowered the clipper as he gestured toward me. “That’s where you’re wrong again, Lorraine the lesbian. We should not have to leave this county or this country. Godly men like me and Petey here are instruments of God in taking this country back. We’re helping to purify America.”

“What are you talking about, Lewis?” I stepped closer, but Petey kept hold of my arm. Then I had the sudden instinct to change directions and buy some time, so I could think. “What happened to the dogs?”

“Christ, even your dogs are naïve and stupid.” Lewis laughed. He drank again. “A friendly voice and a few wieners and the dogs went right into the barn. I hope they have some water and it isn’t too hot for them. I hate to see poor, dumb animals suffer.”

“Speaking of dumb animals, how can you call yourselves Godly men? Petey raped a minor. This is your chance to get away, boys. I already called the sheriff.”

Petey twitched, visibly shaken. He seemed to vacillate between a desire to hold on to me or go to Lewis.

“Don’t try to bluff us, Lorraine.” Lewis took his arm from around Ricky, sat forward, but kept a hand tight on Ricky’s wrist.

“It’s true, Petey. I called the sheriff and told him about you being Addie’s boyfriend right after you let me know. Shit, sex with a minor.” I shook my head back and forth.

“I didn’t do anything to Addie she wasn’t willing to do, Lorraine.” Petey put his hands on the sides of his head and swayed back and forth from one leg to the other. “She’s sixteen. Sixteen is legal in Minnesota.” Petey panicked. He moved closer to Lewis, pushing me to the side as he went. I stumbled and fell against the armchair.

“Doesn’t matter. She’s in care. She’s considered vulnerable. She can’t give her consent to adults to be sexual with her.” I riled Petey a little more. “Best if you just make a run for it. Don’t add murder to the mess you’re already in.”

Petey stood over Lewis. “I didn’t sign on for this, Lewis. He said if we helped with this, we’d be done. Neither of us would be in any trouble. Now I’m hearing I’m about to be arrested, Lewis.”

“Shut up, Petey! Don’t you get that she’s just winding you up? We finish this, Petey, and we’re done. We can go back to like it was before.” He let go of Ricky. Ricky slid farther away from Lewis. “Petey, we just need to find out what he remembers. We weren’t there. He ain’t going to finger us. We do our jobs and we’ll have money, get our own land and spread.”

“Lewis, tell me again about the ranch.” Petey swayed back and forth from one foot to the other.

“We’re going to buy a piece of land.” Lewis droned on like he recited a familiar bedtime story. “We’ll park the trailer on the land until we can build something bigger. We’ll have cattle—no milking—beef cattle. Maybe hogs and chickens too. Hell, rabbits, chimpanzees, and ostriches if you want, Petey.”

This was my chance. I reached behind the armchair and pulled the shotgun from its hiding place. I pumped a shell into the chamber and fired it into the ceiling, chambered another load, and moved forward. “Ricky, run!” Ricky scampered from the couch to the armchair behind me. “Petey, get your ass on the floor. Lewis, keep your hands where I can see them.” I pointed the gun at them. I’d never pointed a gun at a person in my life and hoped I never would again. Petey stood in a soporific daze, slack jawed and confused.

Lewis reluctantly, slowly raised his hands. He smiled. “Lorraine, Lorraine, Lorraine. You got your daddy’s Winchester. A fine piece of weaponry.” He began to lower his hands as he talked.

“Keep your hands up!” Don’t make me shoot. It would have been a fine time for me to demand Lewis’s cell phone to call the sheriff, or Momma or Dad or Twitch or anybody who might help, but I didn’t like the way Lewis smiled. And definitely didn’t want to get very close to him. Besides, my hands were full and Ricky couldn’t talk or work a cell phone with his broken fingers.

“Double barrel, pump action shotgun. It has its advantages and disadvantages, of course.” Lewis raised his hands again.

“I know what you’re getting at, Lewis. It can only hold three shells. That might be considered a disadvantage. I already fired one in the ceiling and chambered another round. I either have one or two shots left. You can risk it I suppose, but the great advantage of this gun is at this close range it’s going to do a lot of damage. One shell or two, the next one I fire is going into you.” I raised the gun higher to site him in.

“Lewis, let’s get out of here!” Petey pleaded.

Lewis ignored Petey. His smile was gone. “I don’t believe you have the guts to shoot anyone. I know you don’t have the balls for it.”

“Dislodging the stuck calf you messed up was hard, cutting Killer’s horn off was scary, dealing with McGerber took courage. Believe me, I’ve got all the balls I need to shoot you bullies.” I stood, feet apart, like I had seen Dad do when he shot a rifle. I tried to keep from shaking or passing out.

Petey scampered on his hands and knees out of the room. I watched him from the corner of my eye and heard the screen door slam and he called for Lewis to come with him.

Apparently, some of Lewis’s bravado drained away once his minion ran away. He rose from the couch with his hands still in the air and bowed and shook his head. “This has all been an unfortunate misunderstanding.” Lewis smiled, but he was obviously nervous. “My job was just to help Ricky bear witness to what might have been an act of God as I hear it.” He slowly edged toward the door. I kept the gun trained on him. On his way out of the living room he flipped off the light.

I left the light off. I watched him through the window. He got in his truck with Petey. The dome light in his truck came on. He jabbered into his cell phone as he sped away from the house.

Damn. I should have taken his phone.

“Ricky, are you all right? We’ve got to get out of here!” I leaned the shotgun against the couch. Ricky couldn’t talk even though some of the wires were cut. He cried, shook his head no, and pulled at me. “Okay, okay, sit down. Calm yourself a while, but then we’ve got to get out of here.” I didn’t bother to turn on the lights again. Somehow, it felt like the darkness protected us from the rest of the world for at least a minute.

“We’ve got to tell the sheriff about Lewis and Petey.” I helped Ricky back to his nest on the couch and sat between him and the shotgun. I was jumpy as a meth addict needing a fix. I didn’t want to stick around here.

Sounds from out in the yard added to my near hysteria. The dogs barked again from inside the barn. A car door slammed. Footsteps on the porch. Great. I hope that’s Momma. I had no energy to get up and see for myself.

“Ricky? Are you home?” someone called. The voice was false, the tone all wrong—sing-songy high and mocking, like he called a dog. The voice sorta familiar, but creepy. The hairs stood up on my neck. I didn’t speak or move.

The screen door slammed. He was inside my house. “Ricky? It’s time to come to Jesus. Too bad you’re all alone. I saw that bossy nurse and that little brat in town.” He walked through the kitchen. “Never send boys to do a man’s job. That’s what I always say.”

Boys? Boys? What’s he talking about? Lewis and Petey. He’s here to finish. I couldn’t breathe.

“Maybe I could send your little faggot ass to heaven before I dispatch your wicked soul to hell.” He laughed. He moved to the dining room.

I couldn’t identify who he was, just male, tall, but I knew his voice and he’d come for Ricky.

He moved over in front of the picture window but facing the couch. Just then the yard lights turned on as scheduled and the man was back lit. I couldn’t see his face, only his outline. He wore a suit and he carried an axe.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I put my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming.

“Ricky, I’m back to see you again. Do you want to tell me how pretty my eyes are? Will you stroke the gray at my temples and say how distinguished I look? I do wish you could talk and coo a bit before I silence you forever.” He moved closer to the end of the couch and passed the axe from one hand to the other. “Oh well, such is life. It’s time to have the rest of your coming to Jesus. Pardon the pun.” He felt along the wall, probably searching for the light switch. “Let me see your little faggot face.”

I don’t remember grabbing the shotgun. It was already there in my hands. I fired at the arm and hand holding the ax. The ax fell to the floor.

 

I COULDN’T GET away from him, the smell of gunpowder, and the darkness of the room fast enough. I pulled Ricky along with me as I ran out of the house like we were being chased by the devil himself. I shoved Ricky into my truck from the driver’s side. My keys were still in the ignition of my truck. I ground the starter, turning over the engine and turning the key again. I left the driver’s side door open, the dome light was on, and I thought there was someone else in the car with me. I looked behind me.

No one’s there.

I glanced in the mirror again. My face was speckled with blood. I hurried to close the door as I backed up my truck without properly checking my mirrors and slammed into the truck the axman must have driven. I scrutinized the vehicle more closely as I pulled forward and looped around. It looked like the fancy black truck I saw at McGerber’s place.

Oh Christ, I killed J.C. McGerber.

I needed to find Momma, and Allan. I needed my dad and Twitch. I put my truck in drive and headed toward Bend.

 

I HAD NO memory of the drive, but I’d made it a thousand times before. I pulled my truck to the curb in front of the café. I rolled down the window and shouted to the first person I saw to use their phone.

Just then, Dad’s truck peeled out of the clinic parking lot. Momma was driving. She drove the truck down the sidewalk by the bank, past Art’s Barber Shop, did a U-turn, and looped back. Dad and Allan pinballed in the passenger seat as Momma drove across Bob and Fran’s grocery store parking lot, over Welinski’s lawn, over the park horseshoe pits and onto Berkey Street.

What’s she doing? “Never mind, here’s your phone.” I sped away after Momma. I honked my horn until she screeched to a stop in front of Pastor Grind’s church. Grind’s car. That’s never good news. Grind’s car was parked in front of the church alongside Twitch’s Jeep.

I parked and bolted out of my truck. “Dad, Momma, Christ, you won’t…”

“Lorraine, watch your language.” Momma pulled out her notebook and mumbled something about the terrible day she’d had, a false emergency at the clinic, fire at the lumber yard, and then she stopped. “Whose blood is that? You’re going to need to soak that shirt.”

I slapped Momma’s notebook to the ground. “Don’t worry about my shirt, Momma. Help me get Ricky someplace safe!”

“The church is safe. It’s why I called you to bring him here. You’d know that if you answered your phone.” Momma peered into my truck cab and put her arms out to Ricky.

Dad picked up Momma’s notebook and handed it to her. “Peggy, let me do that.” He put Allan in my arms, eased by Momma, and reached into the truck to gently help Ricky slide across the seat.

“You crying?” Allan touched my face.

“Yep. Everybody poops and everybody cries.” Any mention of poop made the little bugger laugh. I needed somebody to have a reason to laugh.

Momma got a better look at Ricky. “That’s Ricky’s blood on your shirt, Lorraine. What happened?” She licked her thumb and wiped at my face. “Get in the church. Pastor Grind has to talk with all of us.” Momma started up the steps; one hand had a tight grip on the railing and the other hand had a tight grip on me. I carried Allan and Dad carried Ricky.

“No way in hell I’m going in there.” It shouldn’t surprise me, but neither my momma nor dad listened to a word I said. Momma pulled me along as she went right up those church steps and pounded on the door of the church, yelling for Grind to let us in.

Only Allan paid any attention. “No way in hell.”

Momma let go of my arm and took Allan from me.

Grind opened the door and waved Momma, Dad, Allan, and Ricky into the church. He cast his eyes directly at me.

“Well, Lorraine? There isn’t much time.”

I walked up a few steps and went back down to the sidewalk. It’s a trap sure as hell. His accomplices have failed. Now he’s going to kill us. I heard squealing tires from Main Street. How many people are doing McGerber’s bidding? I thought about the shotgun in the truck, but it only had one bullet left and I’d forgotten more shells. I hustled into the church. At best all I could do was plead for them to save Allan and bring him up in the church. He hadn’t hurt anybody. Maybe Jolene or Charity could raise him, or Marin could find him a good home.

Grind waited for me. He locked the doors behind me and hustled me into the sanctuary. The ceiling lights were on, but there were candles lit near the front too. Oh crap, it’s like TV where nobody kills anybody quick. Everything’s a big production with speeches and backstory. I’m waiting for organ music.

Twitch talked quietly to Ricky by the communion table. He helped Ricky climb up on the table and lay down. Twitch stood over him and then he put on a blue surgical gown and white gloves. Another man in a suit stood by Twitch with his back to me. I ran down the aisle.

“What are you doing? Don’t kill Ricky!”

“Lorraine?” Twitch turned to me.

The man holding Ricky’s upper body turned. J.C. McGerber. Son of a bitch. If I didn’t shoot McGerber, who’d I shoot?

Dad held a candle closer. Momma had Allan pressed against her.

Twitch used his gloved fingers to push back Ricky’s lips. He held small shears in his other hand. “Christ, what a mess. Some of these wires look like they’ve been chewed off. They’re poking right into his cheek.”

I yelled again, “Don’t kill Ricky!”

“We’re not going to kill Ricky.” Twitch took his hands away from Ricky’s mouth. “The doctor said Ricky’s wires could come out tomorrow. I got some tools from an oral surgeon I know. We’re doing it a day early.” He shook out his shoulder, dabbed on Ricky’s lips with a sterile bandage he soaked with water. “I cleared it with Doctor Jonas at the hospital.” Twitch winked at me. “Let’s see what this boy knows about who hurt him.”

“It was Lewis and Petey.” I stepped closer to Ricky.

Twitch stopped his assault on Ricky’s mouth again. “How do you know?”

“They were waiting for me at the farm. It was Lewis who made a mess of Ricky’s mouth already. I think they planned to kill us both.” I looked at Dad. “I scared them off with the shotgun you hid in the living room.”

Momma swatted Dad. “You hid a shotgun in my living room?” She reached toward her purse.

Dad pointed at Momma. “Don’t you even think about writing that in your notebook. There’s no time for that nonsense.”

“Today, ladies!” Twitch yelled. “You can sort out your decorating scheme and sin tallies later. For right now we’ve got this to deal with.” He applied a topical anesthetic gel onto Ricky’s gums and inner cheeks. “This will numb your mouth. We’ll get the sheriff to scoop up those knuckleheads, but we aren’t waiting any longer for someone to try to hurt him again…or hurt anybody else.” Twitch swallowed hard, glanced at me and back at Ricky. “Ricky can tell us everything that happened and get this mess sorted.”

Plink. Twitch snipped one wire and then another. Ricky moaned and groaned.

“Almost finished, son.” Twitch touched Ricky’s shoulder.

Ricky’s eyes were wide and teary. They rolled back in his head.

I held Ricky’s hand. “It had to be Lewis and Petey. Why else would they have come after Ricky at the farm?” Ricky squeezed my hand as much as he could with broken fingers.

Plink, plink, his jaws were loose from each other, but disinclined to open after being closed so long I suppose.

“I don’t think anybody’s saying you’re wrong about Lewis and Petey, Lorraine.” Dad offered Ricky water from a cup. Most of it spilled down his neck and front. “We just need to hear the whole story and get an official statement to the sheriff.”

McGerber hovered. He carefully wiped Ricky’s mouth with a pressed white cloth handkerchief he took from his suit pocket. “It’s okay, son. Take your time. We have plenty of water for you, whatever you need.”

What’s McGerber playing at? I don’t trust him. At any moment, he was going to grab Ricky’s head and break his neck.

Twitch told Ricky not to try to speak yet. He needed to put some dental rubber bands on Ricky’s arch bars—the apparatus that kept Ricky’s jaw in place since the break. “Don’t worry, Ricky. I watched a YouTube video on how to do this.” Twitch grinned.

I might faint. Despite the local anesthetic tears still streamed from Ricky’s eyes and his nose ran.

Once the elastic bands were on, Ricky could open his mouth a little and try speaking. He could if he was willing to. I had my doubts even though he’d promised me he would.

We waited for him to speak, surrounding him as he was stretched out on the communion table. Momma passed Allan over to Dad. She got out her notebook. She gave Dad a look. Then she licked the lead of the pencil she had tied to the notebook with string. She readied for dictation. She would take the names and she would bring retribution.

Ricky’s breathing was quick, his eyes watered and darted from McGerber to Twitch to Pastor Grind, to Momma, to Dad, to Allan, and to me and around the circle again like a spinning bottle. The last time through his gaze stopped at me.

“Lorraine, I think he wants to tell you.” Dad nodded at me.

Great. I leaned over closer to Ricky. His lips were dry and cracked. Blood caked the corner of his mouth again and the inside of his mouth appeared inflamed. I leaned even closer. He whispered, but I didn’t catch it. Closer. His chapped lips were against my outer ear—shivers raced down my arms as his breath fluttered against my ear and my neck. He whispered. His sentences were short. His breath was humid against my ear. He told me what had happened. He whispered the truth and a name I didn’t imagine.

Even more confused and scared, I ran the story over in my mind: the shiny black truck, the familiar voice, the suit. I did what made sense to me. I squeezed Ricky’s arm. I asked Twitch to stay with Ricky and McGerber. I asked Momma, Dad, and Pastor Grind to come out to the foyer with me. Their patience with me grew thin.

“For God’s sake, Lorraine,” Momma said. “What did he say?”

Oh, crap. It’s not going to get easier by waiting longer. “He said some college boys followed him and pulled him out of the car, but he doesn’t remember anything after that until he woke up in the hospital.”

“Christ, I never expected that.” Dad wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.

“He may not remember, but I think it’s pretty clear there were other people involved.” I searched their sad, disbelieving faces. “Where’s McGerber’s brother?”

Grind spoke first. “Why do you ask about McGerber’s brother, Lorraine?”

“Because I think he’s behind this beating and the attempt to make Ricky talk out at the farm. Lewis made it sound like he and Petey were getting paid to see what Ricky remembered.”

“You think that was Warren McGerber?” Dad put a hand on my shoulder.

Grind sat down on the wooden bench in the foyer like his legs couldn’t hold him any longer.

“Well, I’m going to give both McGerbers a piece of my mind.” Momma moved toward the sanctuary again, but Grind called her back.

“I’ll deal with J.C. We’ve got to notify the sheriff right away,” Grind said. “He could be anywhere. He could come to this church this very minute to finish the job.”

“Actually, Warren McGerber can’t finish the job.” I pulled at my messy curls. I’m going to vomit.

“How do you know he isn’t coming here, Lorraine?” Momma looked at me with her brow furrowed.

“Because he’s on our living room floor.”

“What’s Warren McGerber doing in our living room?”

“The gun.”

“You shot someone, Lorraine?” Dad put his hand over his mouth.

Momma appeared speechless for once.

“I think I killed him. He came to the farm after Lewis and Petey left. He had an ax. He talked about dispatching Ricky’s soul to hell.” My eyes darted from Momma to Dad and to Grind and around the horn again. None of them could help me. The truth will set you free. “I shot him. I shot him because I thought Ricky and I were both in danger for our lives. I shot him and got Ricky out of there.”

For a moment we all stood statue still. Momma went to motion first. She ran to Pastor Grind’s office. “I’ll call for an ambulance and the sheriff.”

“I’ll turn myself in.” I cried like I’d never be able to stop. “I’m sorry.”

Pastor Grind stood up, straightened his suit, and approached me. “Oh, Lorraine, I’m so sorry. How frightening. Are you okay?”

I nodded. We both stared over to where J.C. McGerber stood with Twitch and Ricky.

I took Pastor Grind’s arm. “It was Petey, McGerber’s farmhand, who had sex with Addie. He’s her boyfriend. He didn’t know she was pregnant. Do you want me to talk to McGerber? Tell him about his brother? I need to apologize…for accusing him of hurting Addie.” Please, please, please, don’t make me do it.

Grind firmly grasped my shoulder. “You’re not going to tell him. I’ll tell him. Lorraine. I don’t know how exactly, but I’ll do it. Violence begat violence. It’s an old, familiar story. You know, Lorraine, J.C. and I set out this evening to get Ricky and you to safety from whomever would come back to hurt him again. We wanted to make this church a true sanctuary.”

I didn’t know that, and I didn’t understand it.

“This is going to be a shock for J.C., but it doesn’t change what we intended to do. It’s going to be okay. We’re all going to be okay.”

Pastor Grind returned to where Twitch stood vigil over Ricky. I watched as Grind said something to McGerber. McGerber had been on his flip phone. He pocketed it and followed Grind away from the others. They stood together, a stained-glass window depicting Christ’s broken body as a backdrop, and Pastor Grind talked. I didn’t hear what Grind said to McGerber, but from where I stood I saw the way the weight of the truth and what must come next pulled all McGerber’s facial features down. His spine seemed like it was being yanked to earth by a magnet from the core of the world. His disappointment and loss shone on his face. I knew his heart seized and his brain forgot its function. I knew because I had lost Becky and there were no words to make it easy or hurt less.