Page 72 of At Her Will

“No. When I caught up, Rev had already laid hold of the dirtbag. Lynn rolled free and I grabbed her. She was hysterical, so I stayed with her, ready to protect her if the guy got away from Rev. I found out pretty fast I didn’t have to worry about it.”

Mavis took another healthy swallow of the drink, her gaze moving to Rev. His head was tilted as he listened to Trey’s keyboard adjustments.

“I knew Rev was strong, but when he yanked the man away from her, his feet left the ground, and he slammed against a tree. He tried to scramble away, but Rev had him by the collar and jerked him up to his knees.”

Mavis finished the first drink and gripped the second. She didn’t lift it, though. She was staring at the floor. For this part, she seemed like she was deliberately not looking at Rev.

“Mavis.” Her hand was stiff under Vera’s touch.

“I’m all right.” But it was still several moments before Mavis spoke again. “Rev got right down in his face, put two fingers against his forehead, and started whispering.”

Her gaze lifted, haunted. Even in the humid close quarters of the club, Vera felt a chill. “The wind started whipping through the trees, and hand-to-God, it got dark in that little grove oftrees. It was lunchtime, Vera, and no light was around us. It was just gone. I could see Rev and the man. But that was all I could see. And I shouldn’t have been able to hear him, but I did. I heard every word.

“‘Get out of him. Get out. In the name of God, you are not welcome here. Get out.’ Things like that. The man started convulsing.”

The club and musicians blurred for Vera like an unfocused lens. Only Rev was sharply outlined. He’d taken Trey’s place at the keyboard, fingers moving over it capably, as if he were showing them something about what they were planning to play.

“Rev squatted next to him.” Mavis’s voice was unsteady. “He was praying. Not the way you think of it, this subtle, soothing thing people do in church. Itwasquiet, his lips were moving, no sound coming out, but what he was doing, what he was wielding, it was as strong as if he were holding a sword on some kind of ancient battlefield.

“He put his hand out toward me, one finger lifted in the most commanding way I’d ever seen in my life. We held stock still, Lynn and me. The man started…growling. Then he shot up from the ground and Rev knocked him back down, did the two-finger thing against his head again.”

Mavis never looked uncertain, but her expression was one of confusion and wonder. “The look on his face…I’d never seen anything like it. If you told me the archangel Michael looked like my assistant janitor, I’d tell you I totally believe it and he keeps his sword in the closet with his brooms and mops.”

Vera pushed past the stunned reaction that had taken away her words. “What happened after that?”

“The cycle happened twice more. The third time was different. Something came out of the man. The wind howled like a hundred wolves, and it got so cold I saw the frost on my breath. It wasMay, Vera. May in New Orleans. Then it was gone. Thecold, the wind. The darkness was still there, but it was…empty. And okay. Whatever was in that man was gone, like a suit of clothes collapsing without the person in them, only in this case it was the man, folded to the ground as if he were a suit of clothes.”

Mavis gazed at the liquid shimmering in her glass. When Sy did a short drum sequence, coordinating with what Rev was doing on the keyboard, she didn’t notice.

“It was so quiet. Then a bird chirped one note. Then another. The world started up again, the light, the birds, the kids in the playing fields, all of it.

“Rev helped the man sit up against the tree. He’d started to cry. Rev, this muscle in his jaw jumped as if the part of him who’d knocked the girl out of his grasp still wanted to pummel him. I sure as hell wouldn’t have stopped him. But instead…” Unexpectedly Mavis’s eyes glistened. Her throat was thick. “He put his arms around this wretched excuse for a human being. He laid his head on Rev’s chest and wept.”

Mavis lifted her brown eyes to Vera’s face. “The high school did a production of Camelot a few years ago. Are you familiar with it?”

“I’ve seen it at some point. At least the movie.”

“Live production is way better, especially with a high school cast. They put a lot into it.” Mavis cleared her throat and straightened. She was pulling herself back together.

“You know the part where Lancelot brings Sir Lionel back to life, and it’s implied he could do it because of the purity of his heart, his devotion to God? And he didn’t doubt he could do it, because it wasn’t his power. He was a conduit.”

A bittersweet emotion gripped her face. “‘I can cross the busiest of streets, if I’m holding my Father’s hand.’ Rev sang that in the halls one day. He likes putting words to that music in his head.”

“Yes.”

Mavis sipped the second drink. “It’s more than the crazy factor that kept me from telling you. It scared the ever-living shit out of me, Vera. What he pulled out of that man was cold and dark. I know men can be evil all on their own, and they say pedophiles and molesters have something wrong in the makeup of their brains, but this… Lynn doesn’t remember much about what happened after I grabbed her and held her against me, and I’m so very glad for that.”

“So what happened to the man?”

Mavis’s expression became thoughtful. “When the police arrived, he seemed tired. Numb. He told us he was sorry, and that was it. No bullshit protests about him being innocent or having someone call a lawyer for him.

“When I asked Rev about it, he said, ‘He let the bad in. He’s gotta answer for that. He’s got to close up that hole, make sure nothing can get back in. To do that, he gotta do penance for the wrong that evil used his body for.’”

“Did he ever talk to you about what he did? Rev, that is?”

“I had a lot of questions. Still do. But he shut me down. Firm and gentle, like a brick wall with a mattress in front of it. Have you experienced that side of him?”

“I have.”

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