Page 68 of A Boy Called Lovesong

“What happened?”

“I reached out to the world… but the world never reached back. I never told anyone about it, but I know my parents would be pleased it came to nothing. Hell, they’d kill me if they even knew I tried to leave. They’re petrified of setting me free, scared of what might happen to me if I ever pack my bags and go. They love me. I know they’re only trying to protect me.”

I sat forward. “Why would you lettheirfears stop you from findingyourdreams?”

“I don’t know. It don’t matter now anyhow. It all came to nothing. I guess the Lord had other ideas.”

“Despite what your parents think, the Lord doesn’t decide whether you go or stay.Youdo. If you wanna leave, then leave.”

He shook his head. “I couldn’t now, even if I wanted to. I got too much to do here.”

I felt like he was on the brink of opening up to me. I felt like I was inching closer to the strange goings-on in this town. I wanted to know more, so much more—

The music in the dead of night.

The boy with the spoons at the crossroads.

The creature caked in mud.

But at that moment, the church bell rang, echoing through the storm clouds that refused to break.

Lovesong downed his bourbon and stood. “That’s my cue. Are you going to join us tonight?”

I tapped a fingernail against my glass so he could hear. “Actually, I think I’d prefer to keep worshipping in a different kind of church.”

He grinned. “Enjoy your prayers. I’ll catch you at supper.”

As he turned to leave, Leroy appeared, having changed into his church clothes too. He had an opened bottle of bourbon in his hand which he set on the table in front of me. “This should keep you going for a while.” He hitched Lovesong’s arm onto his shoulder for a little assistance. “Come on, boy. You got some music to play.”

From the bar across the street, I listened to the congregation singing the Lord’s praises while Lovesong transformed the church organ into an instrument of true wonder, playing chords so complex it almost sounded like three organists at the keyboard, not one.

I poured one drink after another, feeling the smooth brown liquor slide all too easily down my throat. When I heard Maybelle’s voice, my head was light and my mood defiant.

“Skippin’ church? You mustreallythink Jesus hates you.”

As I turned to Maybelle, I noticed I could still hear the voice of the reverend floating out of the church like a spirit in search of sinners to punish. “What are you doing here? The service isn’t even finished yet.”

“Thought I’d sneak out early and warm supper up, or at least the parts of it that didn’t turn to ash and cinders.”

“Sorry about that. Drink?” I held up the now half-empty bottle.

Maybelle hitched one shoulder and pulled out the chair next to me. “Sure. Why not?”

“I’ll get you a fresh glass.” Unsteadily I made my way to the bar, a chair or two scraping on the floor as I bumped into them, then returned with a clean glass. Across the road, the gospel music started up again.

As I poured, Maybelle pointed to Lovesong’s empty glass still sitting on the table. “You had company?”

“Lovesong was here for a drink.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Well, well. Seems I put you up with the right roommate.”

The booze started doing the talking for me. “He’s interesting, that’s for sure. And talented as all hell. And kinda hot.”

“Kinda hot?”

“Okay, he’s seriously hot. And right now, he’s over there singing songs about Jesus. God, who’d have thought I’d ever fall for the son of a preacher man?”

“Is that what’s happening right now?”

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