Page 50 of Javier

She was a giant in the skin of a sliver of a woman. “You see it all so clear.”

“That’s ’cause I’m an old cantankerous hag.” Her smile brightened. “On the day ye showed up at the orphanage, ye were the answer to my prayers, God’s instrument.”

“Hey, ho, slow down, Cherry Tart.” I scoffed. “Me and prayers don’t jive and God wouldn’t want me to be his tool. It’d be bad PR.”

“I doubt that.” She smirked. “But I do think yerself believes it.”

Time to eject out of this line of talk.

“There’s something itching at me.” I paused, then pushed out the question. “How did you know it was the right thing to do?”

“Ye mean about me firing yer gun?”

I nodded.

“Same as ye, lad.” She shrugged. “There’s right and wrong in the world. Folks try to tell us otherwise, muddle things up, but it’s simple now. I shot that pox of a man in Missy’s defense. She was me charge. I also shot the pox in yer defense. I believe in ye, Goodman.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s Goofman.”

“Nay, Goodman,” she countered. “Ye’re sound. God has a plan fer ye yet, even if yerself and Missy are a pair of fools.”

“Fools?”

“Ye know what I’m talking about.” She narrowed her little eyes on me. “Take care of our wain. If ye break her heart, I’ll come find ye and poke yer eyes out. I’ll make it hurt, too. If ye stole her from God, then give her what she needs from Him.”

I didn’t wanna ask, but I did. “And that is?”

“Love.”

I winced. The word hit me like a hammer to the head. “I don’t do that shit.”

“Ye do now, even if ye thick-headed sap don’t know it yet.” She slid my secondary gun from her pocket and handed it to me. “Here ye go. Use it with God in mind.”

I grappled for words, not knowing quite what to say. “Thanks?”

“Yer much welcome.” She turned around and took a few steps before she paused and cased me with her ageless gaze. “Ye’re a wee bit banjaxed, but ye’re sound.”

“Banjaxed?” I frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Banjaxed, ye know, as in broken, or perhaps a weedamaged.”

I opened my mouth to argue with her, but then I remembered. In those few instances when I dared to poke inside myself, there were a lot of loose shards grounding like glass against my raw wounds. I scratched the shadow of my beard. Maybe Sister Janet was right, and I was even more banjaxed than I knew.

“Have care of yer soul, lad.” Her steely gaze softened. “It needs mending. If anyone can help with that, it’s herself. Perhaps ye’ll let her… someday.”

***

Missy

“I’m not sure about this.” From my seat in the van, I eyed Javier as he talked with Sister Janet. “I should come with you.”

“We all have places to be.” Sister Elsa sat behind me, holding her folded cane on her lap. “The convent is not where you belong.”

“I want to see you to safety.” I turned around, sat on my shins, and perched my hands on the back of the seat. “Maybe, if I stick around, I’ll really connect with my vocation—”

“Bless your heart.” Sister Elsa beamed her beatific smile on me. “You’re so kind, but Kai will take good care of us. You’ve walked our path for three years. Now it’s time for you to return to your world and find your real vocation.”

“That’s the problem.” I took in a big breath. “I don’t know where I belong anymore.”

---