Twilight (25 page)

“How you doin’, bro?” Reggie spoke into his ear after introducing him.

“I feel a little pale.”

Reggie laughed. “Don’t worry. More whites are comin’.”

A blond, pimply youth and an elderly woman made up the whites. Another half dozen African Americans made the ratio four to one. He felt conspicuous. He had expected to disappear into the back of a congregation, not sit like a specimen in a circle of the faithful. In spite of the cold outside, the room was getting plenty hot.

Brother Lucas stood and raised trembling hands. The others all got to their feet. Cal stood too. Beside him Reggie started to sing “Amazing Grace.” His voice was deep and strong and perfectly on pitch. The rest of the group joined in. No instruments, no hymnals, just a circle of believers singing. As Cal looked around, it touched him somewhere deep.

They held nothing back, and when the song ended, many waved their arms and hollered in jubilation. That was a little much. One woman jumped up and down, and Cal watched with fascination the bobbing of her body parts. This was not church as he knew it. After a few more songs, Brother Lucas started to pray, or rather, he talked.

Cal watched his face smooth into a sublime expression. He spoke with a tenderness, an intimacy, an almost unworldly joy. And his words were simple. “Father God, I know you’re here. You promised to be among us when we gather in your name. We thank you already, for what you mean to do tonight. There’s not a one here who doesn’t know you or won’t come to. You called us by name.”

Cal edged into the wall. He could guess their thoughts. Who among them didn’t know the Lord? He felt naked and not too proud of his physique. Whereas in the natural realm his almost six-foot, lean, and muscled body was all right, it now felt like a new paper cover on a ratty textbook. He thought of things he’d said and done, things he hadn’t thought of in years … and things he’d thought of all too recently.

He stole a glance around. All the eyes were closed, the mouths murmured “amen” and “thank you, Jesus.” Beside him, Reggie’s lips moved, but silently. Cal was an outsider, invited, but not included. That was okay with him. He’d know better next time.

Besides, what had he done that was so bad? Nothing worse than the other guys. Take Perry. He slept with a new woman every week. Rob had smoked a thing or two besides cigarettes. Frank … well, Frank did go to church every Sunday, but he could swear like a sailor when you riled him. They all had their faults. Why should he be any different?

He hadn’t noticed everyone had taken their seats. He sat down in a listing armchair while Brother Lucas shared a text of scripture. Cal didn’t hear much of it. He watched a small brown spider climb up the wall. He checked his watch.

Then he watched the drizzle bead on the windows and noticed the gaps where the aluminum window separated from the wall. A dampness, or at least the watermark of one, spread out from the corner over the wall. It looked like packing tape had been stuck there and shreds of it remained. Now others were talking.

“Aunt Mary’s arthritis is better, praise Jesus. She wrote a whole letter this morning without pain.”

“Thank you, Jesus.”

“Amen.”

“Hallelujah.”

Cal startled when Reggie spoke up. “Smilin’ Sal gets better and better. She’s still not talking much, but every day has something to say.”

“Oh, hallelujah. The Lord is faithful.”

There was a pause, and Cal hoped and prayed—well not exactly—that they didn’t expect him to say anything. He was relieved when they all stood up. They sang another song, then started hugging. The bobbing woman gave him an embrace he wouldn’t soon forget. He sidled toward the door.

Reggie clapped his shoulder. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” He waved halfheartedly to all the invitations to come on back again, then climbed into the truck with Reggie.

Reggie’s grin was characteristically large. “Well?”

Cal shrugged. “It’s not really my style, Reg. Nothing personal.” Reggie fired the engine. “That’s practically the same thing I said the first time Brother Lucas asked me along.”

“Yeah?”

“Took me two years to go back.” He swung the truck into the street.

“Why did you?”

“Well, things got a little rough. I needed some serious power. Sunday religion wasn’t enough to cover what was coming down.”

Cal stared at him. “What was coming down?”

“When Suanne was three months pregnant, they found a malignancy. Uterine.”

Cal winced.

“Yeah. Trouble was, they couldn’t treat the cancer without losing the baby. She said no go. She wouldn’t sacrifice the child.”

“What happened?”

“I joined up with those people back there, and we begged God for a miracle.”

“And?”

“The baby miscarried, and Suanne got treated. Full hysterectomy. She won’t be having any more.”

Cal shook his head. “And that made you keep going back?”

“It’s not what happened to the situation.” Reggie patted his chest. “It’s what happened here.”

Cal sensed what he meant. He’d felt it when Reggie started singing, he’d seen it on Brother Lucas’s face. It made him want to run for the woods.

“Now, I could either gripe about us not ever having kids, or rejoice that Suanne was healed of the cancer. Things either make you better or make you worse.”

No denying that.

“Having that group, and coming to know God personally, made me see the good side.”

Cal nodded. Reggie had talked before about knowing God, talked like Jesus was his friend. Cal knew the jargon, had even sung the song in Bible school one year:
Jesus is your friend, He’s the one next
to you …

“That group of people meets Wednesday and Saturday nights in prayer and thanksgiving, and I tell you what, they storm the gates of heaven. You might not have noticed tonight, but when your eyes are opened, then you’ll see.”

Cal glanced his way. Reggie wasn’t shy in pointing out Cal’s lacks.

“But you gotta know that prayer meeting’s not the only place to find God. The Big Man doesn’t limit himself to our smallness. If you got roots, start there.”

Cal didn’t answer. Roots. Did he have roots? Sure, but his roots connected him to the ground, to his home, to himself. His folks had been believers, but once he got old enough to resist, they hadn’t made it an issue with him. They’d let him choose, and he’d done what any normal American youth would, given the freedom. Nothing.

Reggie pulled into the drive, and Annie came running, leaping for the car door.

She was as good an excuse as any to beat a hasty retreat, but Cal hesitated. “Look, Reggie, why did you ask me there tonight?”

“Like I said, I had a word. I don’t ask why.”

“Well, what reason would your experience tell you?”

Reggie rested his hands on the steering wheel and turned his head. His face was soft and serious. “That you’re heading for tribulation, my man.”

Cal shook his head. “Wish I hadn’t asked.” He pulled open the door and got out, more annoyed than he ought to be. Annie danced about. “Thanks, I guess.” He waved, then headed for the stairs. Tribulation. As though he wasn’t there already?

Inside he rubbed Annie down, then picked up the phone and called Rita James at home. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“What did you think of Laurie?”

“Don’t set a woman up unless you’re ready to be weighed in the same balance.”

He could hear the stern exasperation in her voice. “Okay, so you held my tail to the fire. What did you learn?”

“If you want to know about Laurie, ask Laurie.”

“She won’t talk about it.” He switched the receiver to his other ear.

“Do you?”

“Do I what?” He picked up a bread crust and tossed it to Annie.

“Talk about your problems.”

Cal half laughed. “That’s all I did for two months.”

“I mean to Laurie.” Rita’s tone was indomitable.

“That’s not what we’re discussing.” This was reminiscent of all the conversations he’d had with Laurie lately. How did they all get turned back on him?

“You have your defenses; she has hers.”

Cal straddled a chair. “So she’s hiding something?”

Rita laughed. “You’re not going to catch me up, Cal. You’re smart, but not that smart.”

“Come on, Rita. If Laurie’s in trouble—”

“Then she has the right to choose her own help, her own way of dealing with it.”

Cal leaned against the wall, his exasperation growing. “Will you talk to her?”

“She hasn’t asked me.”

Cal slammed his palm on his thigh. “What about all those days I didn’t want to talk?”

“That was different.”

“How?” he snapped.

“You were a patient.”

Cal swallowed the tightening in his throat. “I hate that word.” He hung up.

Whistling for Annie, he stalked out to the woods. The night was deep and under the trees, deeper. And it was cold. Damp cold. The drizzle had stopped, but his breath came white and chilled his face as he walked. Pressing his way through the brush, he made out the lights of Fred’s farmhouse, then turned south. There were parts of these woods even he didn’t know. He struck out for new ground, wanting to put his mind on something else, someone else. The darkness took form around him.

Annie perked up her ears, looking to the right. He’d heard the snap, too, but she dropped her head and continued prancing at his side. Her leg troubled her only when they went too far, too fast, as they were in danger of doing tonight in his current mood. He was sweating inside his light jacket, not a good sign. If the shakes started, he’d begin to crave the bottle.

Then he thought of the old drunk lying in the street and shook his head. Maybe that sight would keep him from the slide. Frank’s Southern Comfort had not made him want more, had not even satisfied. It wasn’t a drink he wanted. It was … what? To stop feeling so hollow?

“It’s what happened here—”
and Reggie’s hand on his heart. Was Cal missing something big, something crucial to his makeup? Did he need God to change his focus, put together the pieces he kept trying to fix? Rita didn’t think so. She said he had it inside him to get over it all. Let go of the guilt. Reggie said let go and let God. Cal didn’t know how to do either.

Changing direction again, he pressed through a stand of birch and dropped to the bottom of a gully. This he followed east until he heard Kriley Creek at an intersecting cut. Its song was clear yet subdued as it ran unconcerned toward Miller Pond. May as well follow the creek back home. Annie would be tiring. He reached a hand to her head and got a cold, wet nose in his palm.

After another tramp, he left the creek and passed through the last of the woods to Mildred’s yard, the house, shed, and vehicles ghostly lumps in the darkness. Annie’s ears perked, no doubt sensing home and hoping for a treat. She nudged his hand, then paused, staring into the yard. Cal kept on. If she smelled a varmint and wanted some fun, he only hoped she wouldn’t wake Mildred.

He passed the shed and jerked his head at a motion beside him. A dark form separated from the shadow and knocked him sprawling with something hard between the shoulder blades. Annie bayed, dodging in and out, teeth bared, as the man-shaped silhouette raised a bat. Cal glimpsed the head covered in a ski mask, then rolled, catching the blow in his shoulder. He cried out as his arm went numb for a second, then screamed pain down to his fingers. He was too slow to avoid the next swing, which caught him just below the last one.

“Keep away from Laurie, jerk.” The man raised the bat again, but Annie took his leg between her teeth. Bellowing, he kicked her free, then ran behind the shed and into the darkness.

Cal dragged himself to his knees, cradling the injured arm with his other. Annie whined, licked his face, and nudged him with her nose. “Thank you, girl.” He felt her for injury, but apart from shaking, she seemed fine. “Guess you can tell when it’s the real thing.” He worked himself to his feet, wincing.

13

F
OR WHAT IS YOUR LIFE? IT IS EVEN A

VAPOUR, THAT APPEARETH FOR A LITTLE TIME,

AND THEN VANISHETH AWAY.

James 4:14 KJV

C
AL STEPPED GINGERLY TOWARD THE HOUSE, careful not to stumble or trip. A sound caught him up short, and he tensed. He was pretty worthless with his right arm out of commission, but he wouldn’t be taken by surprise again. He reached the outside stairs just as a light blared on and Mildred pulled open the door, shotgun primed.

“It’s me, Mildred!”

“What’s all the noise? You’re staggering like a drunk.”

Even sober. And Mildred didn’t mince her words.

“I met with a bat.”

“What kind?”

“The baseball kind.”

She lowered the gun. “You can’t stay away from trouble to save your life.”

“I didn’t look for it. It found me.”

He yelled when she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

“Where’s the damage?”

“About where you’re gripping.”

Cissy shuffled up, gasping when Mildred pulled his shirt open to reveal the purple welts and swelling joint. “Oh my.” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my.”

Mildred scowled. “Get an ice pack, Cissy, and stop ‘oh my-ing.’ It’s probably not as bad as it looks.”

“It’s as bad as it feels.” He submitted to Mildred’s inspection and probing.

Cissy rushed back with a blue plastic bag. He jumped when Mildred applied it.

“It’s a gel pack. Doc Klein gave it to me for my knee when it swells.” She shifted the pack on his shoulder.

“I’ll take it from here, Mildred.” He stood up, holding the pack in place.

“Did you get a look at him?” Mildred eased the shirt over the ice.

“He was masked.”

“Figures.” Mildred looked like that was his fault. “Likely took you for a prowler out tramping the woods in the dark.”

Cal knew better. Only one person would warn him off of Laurie. “Thanks for the ice.”

“You better have that looked at.”

He nodded and Annie jumped up. “Come on, girl.”

“Who would want to hurt him?” Cissy whispered as Cal climbed the inside stairs. He didn’t hear Mildred’s words, but he could imagine her reply.