Page 5 of Small Town Hunter

Sebastian chokes back a laugh. “Sorry. It ain’t funny. I know, Dee.”

“This place is worse than Clarksburg! They’re talking Klan business right in the open!”

“I figured that fella earlier was spinning a yarn. The way he was going on like this place is San Francisco, not full of ignorant hillbillies like us,” Sebastian agrees.

“Likeyou,” I tell him. “I’m no hillbilly.”

“Sure,” he grins. “Well, if anyone troubles us, they’ll bite off more than they can chew, won’t they?”

“And that Mama. She’s terrible. I feel sorry for that poor girl,” I fume.

Sebastian shrugs. “She’ll be fine. I’ve heard of this Reverend Wilson fella.”

“Youhave?”

“He’s one of them big time TV preachers. He’s got a fucking TV show. A helicopter, a yacht, a mansion — everything. That lady will be in high cotton and have you feeling sorry for her.”

“Money isn’t everything, Sebastian.”

“Yes it is, Dee, and anyone who denies it is kidding themselves.”

I look down at Skyla. Imagine selling my baby girl to some dirty old man in the church. I don’t understand how some people think. Sometimes I don’t understand how my own husband thinks. Of course, I know his rationale comes from a desire to protect us. But sometimes…

I look at the future bride’s picture in the newspaper. She is young, Black, and very pretty. She has a lot of hair, more than I would know what to do with. And she wears it natural. I squeeze my fuzzy locks together and lift them off my neck. They definitely don’t keep me cool in this weather.

“I can’t believe they’re selling this pretty girl to the son of the local Klan leader. We really are living in some different times.”

“We shouldn’t take any chances of breaking down around here,” Sebastian says, ambivalent to the struggles of a stranger. “We’ll need to get out of here by tomorrow.”

“Every time I see Virginia plates from here to California, I’ll be losing my mind,” I sigh.

I look down at Skyla.

“I’d die for you both. Don’t forget that,” my husband says. “I love you, Dee.”

He’s not a man of many words. But I know his heart. Every word he speaks is true. He might hold back from me, but he never lies.

Dinggg…Dong…

“Do you hear that?” I frown.

Church bells.

“I’ll be damned,” says Sebastian, squinting at the newspaper I just pushed aside. “They’re marrying her today, Dee.”

“Want to go meetSweet Lick?” I suggest.

We look at each other and laugh.

TWO

TRINA

God works miracles. If he delivered the Hebrews from Egypt, if he razed the walls of Jericho and saved Daniel from the lions’ den, then surely he can do this one small thing for me today.

But when I get done with that lastamen,outside my window comes the sound of wheels crunching on the oyster-shell driveway. And I realize that after three months of prayer, I am again disappointed.

There will be no miracle.

---