Page 108 of A Boy Called Lovesong

“Is it over?”

I nodded again. “It’s all over, Lovesong. It’s all over.”

“Is it time to leave the crossroads?”

“Forever,” I said. “It’s time to leave. It’s time to begin again.”

CHAPTER 22

Two detectivesfrom the Baton Rouge Police Department interviewed Maybelle, Lovesong, and me, the only witnesses to what had happened. Our stories were simple, and they matched perfectly.

The reverend had a fight with his wife, and she ran off into the bayou.

Devastated, the reverend went to the manor to tell his son, Lovesong, but in his distraught state he lost his footing on the stairs and fell, hitting his head and breaking his bones on the way down.

The police searched the bayou.

They found an old shack, but there was no sign of anyone living there.

As for a body, it was assumed the reverend’s wife became the victim of a gator attack.

The reports were stamped.

The witness accounts were filed.

And the case was closed.

CHAPTER 23

The box trailerwas a parting gift from Earl. The piano strapped onto the trailer—the same one from the bar that Lovesong used to play every night—was a gift from Maybelle.

“What am I gonna do with it now?” Maybelle said to me and Lovesong as we hitched the trailer onto the back of Joan Collins. “Nobody else in town knows how to play it, so it might as well go on an adventure with you. Besides, I got my eye on one of them newfangled jukeboxes. Maybe Clara’s Crossing is ready to step into the twentieth century.”

“Maybelle, we’re in the twenty-first century now,” I laughed.

“My point exactly!”

While Lovesong said his goodbyes with a series of sweet and heartfelt hugs for Ida-May, Eloise, Lucy, George, and Auggie, I turned to Leroy and Cybil who had just arrived home from hospital the day before.

“Thanks for hitting me with your pickup,” I said jokingly to Cybil.

“Thanks for getting in my way. That crash could have been a lot worse,” she joked back.

I wrapped my arms around her. “Look after yourself. No more heavy lifting, you hear?”

I turned to Earl and gave him a hug next. “This one’s from Joan Collins. She’s in better shape than ever thanks to you.”

“Guess that makes me a mechanic to the stars now.”

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

I stepped over to Leroy, who was crying like a baby. “I ain’t no good at sayin’ goodbye.”

“Then maybe a hug can do all the talking for us.”

Leroy grabbed me and lifted me off the ground, squeezing me so tightly I thought another few ribs were about to break.

“Easy there, tiger.”

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