Page 69 of A Boy Called Lovesong

What was left of my sobriety tried to take over. “No. Absolutely not. I’m still… Hell, I’m still mourning the love of my life.”

Maybelle reached across and laid her hand on mine. “I know. Cybil told me.”

“She did?”

“She also fessed up about the incident on the road, and how you grabbed the wheel. You saved her life.”

I heard the musical praise rise to the rafters across the road. “Is this where you tell me that Jesus put me in that pickup today, to save Cybil from having a car accident?”

“No. Maybe. Who knows? Unlike Reverend Jim, I don’t feel the need to try and explain every little mysterious thing the Lord does. Maybe he did put you in that car for a reason, butyou’rethe one who took the wheel when you had to. Sometimes I think people give the Lord too much credit for things. After all, he gave us free will and a brain in the hope that we’d use it, right?”

I pondered this a moment as the drunk devil and sober angel on my shoulders battled. Or was it a drunk angel and a sober devil? It was hard to tell. “Lovesong feels his faith deeply, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he does. But that doesn’t mean he ain’t capable of a certain clarity of mind. Unfortunately for Lovesong, he’s had the reverend and his wife filling him with fire and brimstone his whole life. It’s a miracle he emerged from that household with any thoughts of his own at all. The day he announced to his parents he was coming to live here at the manor was a battle of biblical proportions. I think Jesus and the Devil had front row seats to that show. The reverend and his wife did everything but chain Lovesong in the basement to keep him in their care. But that boy had made up his mind to live—he’d made up his mind that he needed to be his own person, to be part of a bigger picture—and so, with nothing but the clothes on his back, he turned up on my doorstep one rainy night and never left.”

“But he still plays in church. He still dresses up in his Sunday best, every night, at the toll of the bell.”

“He never intended to give up his faith. And he never wanted to sever his relationship with his parents completely. He just needed to let out some rope. Truth is, I don’t think he’ll ever be free of them, not until he leaves town… or they’re dead… or both.”

I had to backtrack on the conversation. “Wait a minute. He thinks moving from the reverend’s house to the manor is being part of the bigger picture? Their house is a quarter of a mile away. How is that being part of a bigger picture? He’s never left Clara’s Crossing.”

“It’s a step,” she said, her voice gentle. “He’s blind, Noah. We forget that, because he knows this town so well, he moves around it like he can almost see. He leaps up that half fallen down staircase and weaves his way through the street like a cat, like he can spot every pitfall and obstacle in his way. But he can’t.”

She paused and took a drink, a long one. “There’s another thing about Lovesong that makes him so determined to keep his faith strong.” Just then, the music in the church ended with a cheer and a chorus of “Hallelujahs,” and through the bar’s open windows the township began pouring out onto the street, headed for the manor.

Maybelle stood. “Unfortunately, that’s a story for another time. Supper awaits. I assume you’ll be joining us? After all the bourbon, you could probably use some food on your stomach.”

I stood and my head spun. “Actually, I think I need to go lie down.” I was wavering, my balance shot, and Maybelle reached out to steady me.

“Perhaps that’s a good idea. Why don’t I send Lovesong up with some biscuits wrapped in a napkin for you? If I’m honest, they turned out mighty fine… unlike the corn cakes, may they rest in peace.”

“That sounds great… I mean, about the biscuits. Sorry again about the corn cakes.”

“Come,” she said, taking my hand. “I’m gonna see you to the elevator so’s you don’t do anything foolish like take the stairs.”

Maybelle led me into the house.

She tucked me into the elevator, but before she closed the grill doors, I asked her, “Out of interest, how old is Lovesong?”

“Twenty-seven. Why do you ask?”

I shook my head. “No reason.”

Maybelle closed the elevator doors and pulled the lever to take me ever so slowly upward. Through the bars of the grill, I could see everyone spill into the manor from outside.

I saw Lovesong, and my heart skipped a beat.

Was I really falling for the son of a preacher man?

Is that what was happening to me?

I couldn’t let it.

I couldn’t let go of Joel.

I couldn’t come all this way, with all this rage inside me, to vindicate Joel’s death… only to fall for the one man I was determined to hate more than anyone on the face of the earth.

Only now… I could feel that rage simpering away, minute by minute, day by day.

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