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“You want to know if she’s got a job here.”
If this guy had ever, ever been anywhere near her daughter, Martha would kill him. Over and over again. Until there wasn’t a trace of him left with the memory of her daughter on his skin.
“Maybe.”
“You still got God, doin’ the preachin’ stuff?”
Martha wondered at the odd note of challenge in the stranger’s voice. A black kid, about the size of Tim but looking nothing like her son in his oversize jeans and faded, ripped jersey, rode by on a bike that had apparently been built from spare parts. This whole afternoon was like a descent into some strange version of reality, a twilight zone.
She might not have noticed David’s hesitancy if she hadn’t been, for safety’s sake, standing so close to him. The muscles of his back clenched. His chin lowered. And then lifted ever so slightly.
“I’m still the same old guy.” His words weren’t at all what she’d expected. “You know, tigers and their stripes, leopards and their spots…”
“Okay.” Ignoring Martha completely, the guy elbowed David with an intimacy that made her feel sick. “I don’t have the answers you want,” he said quietly. “I got out awhile back when it looked like there’d be layoffs. Permanent ones. I don’t think the old folks are going to appreciate you asking around.”
David nodded slowly, stared off over the guy’s shoulder again, then headed on down the street. “Thanks, man,” he said after he’d taken about three steps.
Martha, confused and completely out of her element, was right behind him.
“WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?” The second the Explorer turned onto a familiar Phoenix road, Martha’s question tumbled out.
“No questions, that was the deal.” Back in his car, David wasn’t shedding the old skin as quickly as he would’ve liked.
He’d overestimated himself when he’d agreed to bring her with him. Thinking he was so far removed, so forgotten or at least forgiven that he’d be able to slide in for a visit—for a good cause—and right back out again without becoming part of it.
“That was before I knew what I was getting into.” Martha’s hands flew up with the force of her words. She was now turned toward him, pinning him with a relentless gaze.
But it didn’t matter. Because he’d answered all the questions he was going to answer.
“And you knew that, too, when you gave me your word.”
“You can’t expect me to go to a place like that, put my life in danger and then not tell me what we were doing there!”
“I can and I do.”
“I can’t accept that.”
“Then I suggest you stay home.”
She turned, crossing her arms in front of her. David’s chest eased just a bit. The sooner she left him alone, the sooner he could do what he needed to do to get himself back where he belonged.
He was risking everything with this foray to places he’d left behind—to a life he’d left behind. He’d known that going in. Just as he’d known that far more than his own life was at risk here. Lives far more valuable than his.
“So the whole gentle preacher thing is all an act, huh?”
“What?”
“You and the whole loving, serving, peaceful crap.”
David’s gaze shot from the road to Martha’s disgruntled expression and back again. “Of course not!”
“I just saw you in action, Marks,” she said, her voice filled with as much disdain as he’d ever heard from her. “I had the sense that if that man had made one false move, you would’ve had him out flat in seconds.”
“Having good reflexes isn’t a sin.”
“You’d have flattened him without one thought for his immortal soul.”
“I’m human.”
