Magic Street (28 page)

"Well, now I can see why he fell in love with you."

"What about you, Mack. Are you in love with me?"

He kissed her. "No," he said. "I'll never know who I might have loved. But he's in love with you."

She held him tighter. "Let's go back to reality now, Mack Street."

"No need to walk. Besides, we need to pick up our clothes."

And just like that, as she held him close, they were no longer on the grass in Fairyland, they were in Rev Theo's office in a storefront church in LA, stark naked with their clothes spread out underneath them, and they could hear Word's voice in the street outside.

FAIRY CIRCLE Word began to preach, expecting to have words given to him like last night. But it didn't happen.

He fumbled for a moment. Paused. Tried to remember the sermon he actually wrote for yesterday.

"I'm not good at this," he said. "And I think a lot of you came here hoping that you'd see something miraculous. But I... it's not something I control. I can pray for God's help for you. And I can teach you the words of the Lord. So you can live a better life. Do the things that lead to happiness. Love the Lord with all your heart, might, mind, and strength. Love your neighbor as yourself."

"Can you pray for my boy in prison?" called out a woman. "He didn't do it!"

"I can, Sister," said Word. "I will."

"Well is he going to get out?" she demanded.

"I don't know," he said. "I don't even know if letting him out would be the will of God. It's God's will we have to follow here. Maybe your son has things he needs to learn in prison."

A couple of men in the congregation laughed bitterly. "Learn lots of good things in prison," one of them said.

"How old is your son?" asked Word.

"Sixteen," she said. "But they tried him as an adult. Can't vote, but he can do time like a grownup!"

"If he be black, they know he do it." A Jamaican accent.

Word was at a loss. He also knew that a lot of blacks went to prison because they did do it, no matter what their mothers thought. But that wasn't a good thing to say to a grieving mother. Or to a crowd in the street that came for miracles and was already disappointed.

"Brothers and sisters," said Word. "I wish I were a better preacher."

What was he supposed to do, pretend that he grew up in South Central? What good would that do, to be a liar?

"How can I know what to say to you? I was blessed in my childhood. My parents were happily married. They still are. My father's a professor. My mother's an administrator. I got the finest education. I grew up surrounded by books. We never knew what it was to be hungry. What do I know about the life your son had?

"But Jesus knows about his life. Jesus grew up in a good family, too. A mother and father who worked hard and loved him and took care of him. Jesus kept the commandments and served God.

And they took him out and crucified him cause they didn't like the things he said. You think Jesus doesn't know what it's like to be in jail for a crime you didn't commit? You think Mary didn't know what it's like to have them take your son away and put him on trial and all the people shouting,

'Crucify him!'?

"I'm not preaching here today because I know anything. I don't. I'm too young. My life's been too easy. I'm here today because Jesus knows. It's the good news of Jesus that I want to bring you."

For a lot of them, that was good. They moved a little closer, then nodded, they murmured their assent.

But for others, the ones coming to see something sensational, it was over. They started to walk away.

Rev Theo spoke from behind him. "You doing fine, Word."

Word turned gratefully to smile at him. That's when he saw Mack and Yolanda come out of the door of the church, between the two deacons watching over the collection bowls. He felt a stab of guilt over having performed what amounted to a sham marriage, just so they could hump like bunnies in the pastor's own office. What was he thinking? Even if Mack was somehow magically eighteen, he was still younger than she was. No way did he understand what he was doing, how he was being used. Magically and sexually and every other way.

Speaking of being used...

He felt the invisible hand reach up his spine and spread through the back of his head. It felt to him as if the hand was somehow connected to Mack. And as it touched him, Yolanda winked at him, as if she was aware of what was happening.

He turned back around to face the congregation in the street. "Sister," he said, "your son in prison—what you don't know is that he did the murder he was convicted of. And he killed two other boys that you don't know about. And he's not sorry about it. His heart is like stone. He lies to you and tells you that he didn't do it, but the tears he sheds aren't remorse, they're because inside that prison he is fighting for his life against men much tougher and more dangerous than he is. And all the time that he's bowing before their brutal will, he's remembering how powerful he felt when he killed those boys and dreaming of the day when he can kill again."

"Sister, I pray for your son. I pray that the Lord will turn his heart to repent. But most of all I pray for you. You have another son at home, sister. He's a good boy, but you don't even notice him because he's not the one in trouble. All the time you worry about the son in prison, but what about the son who obeys you and works hard at school and gets teased by other kids because he's a good student and all the time his brother's gang is trying to get him to join up. Where are you for that son?

The prodigal is not ready to come home. Why don't you love the son you have?"

"I love my boy! Don't tell me I don't love my boy!"

"You have the power of healing in your hands, sister," said Word. "Go home and lay your hand upon your good son's brow. Touch his head and say, 'Thank you Jesus for this good boy,' and you will see how the Lord pours out his blessing upon you."

"I didn't come here for you to tell me I'm a bad mother!" she shouted.

"You came here for the miracle you want, but I'm telling you how to get the miracle you need.

When that murderer repents and turns to Jesus, then you'll see a miracle in his life, too. But he won't get a miracle while you don't even have faith enough to do what the Lord tells you to do for your good son."

A fiery young woman standing next to her yelled at him. "God supposed to bring comfort!"

"God brings comfort to those who repent. But those who still love their sins and won't give them up, God doesn't bring comfort to them! He brings good news to them. He brings them a road map showing how to get out of hell. But there aren't any get-out-of-hell-free cards in the game of life, because life isn't a game! You can't change the rules just because you don't like the outcome! There's a path you have to walk. Jesus said I am the way. And you, sister, you so angry with me, I'll tell you right now, the Lord knows the pain of your heart. He knows about the baby you aborted when you were fourteen and how you dream about that baby. And the Lord says, You are healed. The scars in your uterus are made into normal flesh and your womb will be able to bear a child. So go home to your husband and make the baby you both long for, because the Lord knows that you have repented and your sins are forgiven and your body is made whole."

The woman sobbed once, then turned and ran toward the edge of the crowd.

The people who had been wandering away were coming back now.

He heard urgent whispers behind him, and he turned around again. Mack was lying on the ground, with one of the deacons bending over him. Yolanda didn't even seem to notice. She was watching Word intently.

Word stepped away from the pulpit and asked Rev Theo what was happening.

"Woman says her husband just fainted," said Rev Theo. "Go on with your ministry, we'll take care of the newlywed groom."

Mack woke up to the sound of a short burst from a police siren. He tried to sit up and found one of the deacons trying to hold him down. "Got to get up," he said.

"Don't worry, you not getting arrested today," the deacon said, smiling.

"Let me up," Mack insisted, and he rolled over and got up on his hands and knees, then stood.

Yolanda was there, but not watching him, and Mack turned to see what she was looking at.

A police car was at the edge of the crowd, which was even larger than when Mack came out of the church onto the street.

"Move out of the road," said a voice from the loudspeaker mounted on the roof of the car.

"There is no permit for this assembly. Clear the street."

Mack watched as Word stepped out from behind the pulpit and walked to the police car and laid his hand on the hood.

The car's motor stopped.

The cop turned the key and tried to start it, but the only sound was clicking.

The two front doors opened and two black policemen stepped out of the car. "Step away from the car, Reverend," said the driver.

"Son," said Word, "Jesus knows you didn't mean to do it. I tell you right now, he forgives you, and so does that boy you killed. He is happy in the arms of his Savior, and the Lord honors you as a good man and his true servant."

The officer staggered and leaned against the car for a moment, then turned and leaned against the roof and hid his face in his hands and wept.

His partner looked back and forth between him and Word. "You know each other?"

"Jesus knows you," said Word. "Stay out of your neighbor's bed. You've got no right there."

The cop got back into the passenger's seat and leaned across and tugged at his partner's belt to get him back into the car. They tried to start the engine again. Again.

Then Word laid his hand on the hood of the car and it started right up. They backed out of the crowd, did a Y-turn, and headed away.

them for yourself, and admit them all to God, and let the miracle change your life?"

"Did he heal anybody?" asked Mack quietly.

Yo Yo turned to him and grinned. "Oh, he's been doing miracles. Mostly, though, he's been whupping ass and taking names. I tell you, if this was what Jesus did when he was a mortal, no wonder they crucified him."

"I had cold dreams again," said Mack.

"I figured you did," said Yo Yo. "But I also figured I'd best wait till you were done before I woke you up."

"It's bad stuff, Yo Yo," said Mack. "We got to get back to Baldwin Hills and talk to Ceese and get going on saving the ones we can."

"It's a shame you missed the show," said Yolanda. "This Word boy, he's good at it. Oberon's got him a fine pony this time."

"He's Oberon's pony?"

"I saw all his plans, remember?"

"Yo Yo, there's terrible things happening in my neighborhood. Worse than last night, some of them. We got to go."

"Good idea." She took his hand and led him quickly away from the sidewalk in front of the church.

When they were free of the crowd, they began to jog, then to run. "So what did you think about the sex?" asked Yo Yo as they ran.

Mack couldn't believe she was asking him like that, as if it had been a movie. What did you think about the movie? Like it? Plan to see it again? Plan to recommend it to your friends?

"Oh, I forgot, you're shy."

"There's people in trouble," said Mack. "And the sex wasn't all that."

"Don't lie," said Yo Yo. "You want me again right now."

"No," said Mack truthfully. "I don't."

They jogged in silence for a few moments. "That son-of-a-bitch made you a eunuch."

"Stop!" she shouted.

At first he thought she was shouting at him, but then a police car pulled over to the curb. Yo Yo grabbed the passenger door, pulled it open, and said, "Get in, Mack Street, this is our ride."

The two officers in front welcomed them cheerfully and the driver listened as Yolanda explained where they were going. He reached over and switched on the siren and they made their way quickly back toward Baldwin Hills.

"What's going on?" asked Mack.

"I made love to you, and that filled me up with some of the power that my dear husband stored up in you. I could make this car fly right now, but only for a little way, so I thought speeding along the ground would be good enough."

Mack ignored the fact that she thought of "my husband" as someone other than him. "What do you mean, Word's his pony?"

"He's preaching what Oberon wants him to preach. And the miracles he's doing, he's not turning them over to Puck to make them perverse. He's playing them straight. But that's the worst trickery of all, because it's all about building up Word into some kind of miracle-working saint. Wish you could have seen it. Word's a great one. He uses language almost as well as Shakespeare. And it isn't written down, he speaks it right out of his head. It's like poetry."

She quoted Word as if his sermon had been broken up into lines of verse: Do you really need to come to me To face your sins?

Can't you see them for yourself And admit them all to God And let the miracle change your life?

"Shakespeare was better than that," said Mack.

"Not off the top of his head, he wasn't," she said. "He stammered, you know. When he didn't have written lines to say. Stammered. Not real bad. Just couldn't get words out. Made him quiet in company. Ironic."

"So Oberon doesn't give Word the words to say."

"Oberon gives him knowledge. Ideas. Then Word says what he says and Oberon makes it true.

Or makes the people hearing him believe it's true. Whatever works."

"Oh, sure they are," said Yo Yo. "Tells a woman to go home and save her baby from choking, and Oberon makes it so the baby chokes just as she gets there. That kind of thing. And some of it's probably true."

"So he doesn't really heal anybody."

"Of course he does. Don't you get it? That's the trick. He uses the power he stored in you to make wishes come true. But it'll also make Word famous. Important. A saint. And Word is a good boy. Smart. He understands people. Oberon doesn't understand anybody. So he trusts Word to show him what's good to do in order to win people over. By the time he's done, Word'll be king of the world."

"We don't have kings in America."

"You will," said Yo Yo. "Because the prophet of the beast is speaking, and can the beast be far behind?"

"I had a dog once," said the officer who wasn't driving. "He was always tagging along behind me. On my bike. Got killed trying to cross a street that I barely made it across before the light."

The officer's cheery little observation silenced them for the last couple of minutes of the drive.

Mack wondered what the policeman was thinking, underneath Yo Yo's control of him. Did he seethe with resentment? Would he, when his own will reemerged? Or was he oblivious?