"Why's everbody sick?"
Martin groaned from the top bunk. I wiped the sweat from his forehead, murmured to him that I was there, and looked back at Lissie. "I don't know why everybody's sick. Do you?"
She began to shake her head, and continued to do so as the ambulance arrived out front. For all I knew, she was still at it as I ran to the front door and barked at the medics to bring two gurneys. There was no need for hurry with a third.
Ruby Bee closed the front door and went back across the dance floor to the bar, where Estelle and Hammet were sitting in gloomy silence. "I jest can't figure out what all's going on over there," Ruby Bee muttered, mostly to herself, since the other two had given up trying to provide answers. "First Arly and that nice state trooper come screeching up like there's an armed robbery in progress. The next thing, Hiram, Perkins's eldest, and a few other people come barreling out the door and looking mighty frightened. Then we get the sheriff and some of his boys. Before you can say boo, everybody's coming and going every which direction like they was driving those awful bumper cars at the county fair carnival."
Hammet sighed. "I wish Arly'd get back. It's nigh on time fer baseball practice. I got a hit yesterday-a real hard one that liked to have made that Martin kid squeal like a pig getting his dick chopped off."
Estelle rolled her eyes and sighed herself. "You already described it, Hammet. I'm sure it was a real hard hit. I do believe we've already heard enough about where it bounced and any sound effects that may have occurred thereafter."
"I can't for the life of me figure out what's going on over at the SuperSaver," Ruby Bee said. She shoved a basket of popcorn under Hammet's nose. "Here, eat some more of this. It'll keep your strength up for practice-if and when Arly shows her face. She left you here a good three hours ago. If that ain't irresponsible, then I don't know how to make biscuits from scratch. I'm her own mother, and-"
The whining of an ambulance siren cut her short. The three looked at each other as the sound increased, peaked in an earsplitting shriek as it passed the bar, and abated as it continued down the highway.
"Lord a mercy," Estelle gasped. "Do you think something's happened to Arly?"
"There ain't no reason to think that," Ruby Bee said with a look of warning in Hammet's direction. "Maybe Arly was sent out to investigate an accident on that bad curve just past the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall."
Estelle leaned forward, beckoned for Ruby Bee to do the same, and whispered, "If there's been a wreck or something, then somebody probably called over to the sheriff's office. Why don't you see if you can find out anything. Go on, I'll handle Hammet. " She sat back and smiled at him. "Tell you what, I've got a nice shiny quarter that'll pay for three songs on the jukebox. You can go right over there and pick out what you want to hear."
"I don't wanna hear some dumbshit song," Hammet said, his face wrinkled up like a Pekingese. "If'n Arly's hurt, I gotta go help her."
He jumped down from the stool and ran out the door before Ruby Bee or Estelle could open their mouths. He was a good ways down the road and still going full steam before either of them made it to the door to yell at him. And by the time a truck piled high with chicken crates moved out of the way, he was long gone.
Ruby Bee started for the telephone. "He'll be all right. He knows his way around town by now. I'm going to call LaBelle over at the sheriff's and ask her real politely if she knows where I can find Arly. If that doesn't work, I think I'll mosey on over to Jim Bob's SuperSaver and pick up a package of paper towels and a few other things."
"You got three cases of paper towels in the-" Estelle squared her shoulders and nodded. "I think I might go with you to keep you company."
Brother Verber folded his hands in his lap and gazed sternly at the sinners sitting right there beside each other on chairs he'd brought over from the dinette. He gave them a minute in case they wanted to take off repenting without any prodding on his part, then said, "I am deeply troubled, deeply troubled indeed. Y'all have been coming thrice weekly to the house of the Lord under false pretenses. People what come to the house of the Lord thrice weekly ought to do so without carrying a heavy, burdensome load of sin in their hearts."
Dahlia stared at the wall above his head. "I ain't done nothing," she said flatly.
Kevin twitched as Brother Verber's eyes bored into him. He wished he was almost anyplace else except in the hot, stuffy mobile home parked next to the particular house of the Lord under discussion. Mopping floors was better'n this, he thought glumly. Mopping floors weren't half so bad as being told he was some kind of pervert and sex maniac. However, he couldn't think of anything to say, so he settled for a gulp and a shrug.
"The only way," Brother Verber intoned, "the only way to cleanse yourselves of this sinful, disgusting lust that's sucking on your souls like a tapeworm is to repent. If you don't repent from the beginning and in detail, well…Satan's just waiting around the corner, hoping for two new workers in the eternal furnace. I ain't here to pressure you all, though; you can make up your own minds. Maybe you want to shovel coal into Satan's furnace for all eternity while little red devils poke you with pitchforks till you scream."
"I ain't done nothing," Dahlia repeated. She elbowed Kevin so forcefully, he nearly tumbled off the chair.
"Me, neither," he added hastily. "We was sitting on the swing talking about our new jobs at the supermarket, that's all. Anybody what says different is lying-and that's a sin, too."
He was pretty impressed with his speech, but he could tell just from looking that Brother Verber wasn't. In fact, the more he looked, the more he could see the fat ol' pious pig cranking up to spew out all kinds of stuff. And although Kevin knew there hadn't been any fornicating on the porch swing, he didn't much want to discuss various incidents over the last two years. The outhouse, for instance. The back room of the Kwik-Stoppe-Shoppe, on numerous occasions. Once, while Dahlia sat on the stool behind the counter and he'd…
Kevin all of a sudden realized that he was about to get hisself in deeper shit, because the same devil that had tormented him on the swing was back for another visit. "I have to go to the men's room," he said in a strangled voice (although it wasn't his voice that felt like it was being strangled-not by a long shot).
Having been prepared for a detailed description of lustful abandon, Brother Verber was unprepared for this and he began to blink like an addled calf. He may have been staring at Kevin, but his mind was in the bathroom. To be precise, it was in the wicker basket beside the commode-along with two insightful issues of his study material. After a minute, he said, "Right now, we'd better get down on our knees and pray for the salvation of your souls. This ain't the time for wordly concerns, not with damnation seeping into the room like swamp gas."
"I got to go."
Dahlia snorted under her breath, but she didn't say anything and Kevin repeated his plaintive request once again. Brother Verber stood up and went down the hall to the bathroom, hoping for a chance to relocate the well-worn June issue of Kittens and Tomcats and the July issue of Rubber Maid, but Kevin was so close behind him, he could feel hot breath on his neck.
"Let me see if the hand towels are clean," Brother Verber said. He stepped inside and closed the door. The room was small and short on hiding places. If he put the magazines in the one cabinet, Kevin might poke around out of idle curiosity, especially if he had business that might take a while.