Page 51 of A Boy Called Lovesong

“Thank you.” I hurried to the Dynasty. The driver’s door was unlocked. I slipped in behind the wheel, hit the eject button on the cassette deck, and sighed with relief as Lovesong’s tape popped out.

Nobody had taken it.

Hopefully nobody had heard it.

Quickly I slid it into my pocket and got out of the car.

As I did, I looked past Cybil and out through the open roller doors to see a couple walking past arm in arm. Instantly I recognized the reverend, the features of his face sharp and shifting in the glow of the lantern he carried. Beside him was the woman with her gray hair up in a bun.

They were both dressed head to toe in black, the reverend wearing his black wide-brimmed hat.

When they saw me, they instantly stopped.

Chet growled again and I whispered to him, “Chet. Not now.”

The reverend raised his lantern and called out, “Cybil? Everything all right? Young man, are you bothering Cybil?”

“He ain’t bothering me at all,” Cybil answered for me. “He needed something from his car and Earl’s asleep.”

A moment of silence, or perhaps suspicion, fell between us and the lantern squeaked as it swung in the hot, slow breeze. “I see. You must be very tired, Mr. Van Owen. I hope you’ll see the sense to head straight to bed now.”

“Yes sir,” I said like I was some kind of recalcitrant child, instantly regretting it and wondering when the fuck I’d ever called someone “sir” before.

The reverend smiled at my submissive slip. “Good to hear. Cybil, may we walk you back to your door? Or should I say, Earl’s door. I fear tonight is not the night to be out unaccompanied. Especially for an unmarried woman like yourself.”

I caught the slightest roll of Cybil’s eyes. “I can look after myself just fine, thank you reverend. I know the way to Earl’s door like the back of my hand.”

“I know you do,” said Reverend Jim, the undeniable hint of judgement in his tone. “Adeline includes the both of you in her prayers every night.” He turned to me and said, “Mr. Van Owen, I don’t believe you’ve had the pleasure of meeting my wife, Adeline, yet.”

The reverend’s wife glowed ghostly in the light of the lantern as she nodded to me and said, “Pleased to meet you. Praise Jesus.”

“Oh.” I had no idea how to respond to such a greeting, and still annoyed at myself for calling the reverend “sir,” I blurted, “I don’t, actually. Praise Jesus, that is. But hello anyway.”

The reverend’s wife looked instantly offended.

Reverend Jim glared at me angrily.

Cybil snorted, then tried to hide it.

The reverend’s eyes turned to slits. “I hope you’re not going to cause any trouble in our town, Mr. Van Owen.”

“I don’t plan on being here long enough.”

“A man who makes plans, is a man who sets himself up for disappointment,” chimed in the reverend’s wife. “The Lorddecides whether you come or go. There is no need to plan. Simply trust in him and let him guide your way.”

“Amen to that, my dear,” the reverend smiled smugly. “Cybil… Mr. Van Owen… we bid you goodnight. May the Lord watch over you both.”

With that they walked on, the lantern light gliding into the night.

As Cybil flicked off the workshop lights and closed the roller doors, I picked up Chet and said in a hushed voice, “Where are they going?” I could still see the flicker of their lantern in the dark.

“They live about a quarter mile out of town. They’ve always lived out there. They prefer it that way.”

“Thank you for letting me in.”

“You’re welcome. Not sure why Earl listened to the reverend and locked it up in the first place. Sometimes it’s easier to do what the reverend says rather than listen to him preach to you about it the next day.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so, Reverend Jim’s kind of intense.”

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