“Good idea.” Father Peter stood just as the group approached.
“Hey there, Father Peter,” said Charlotte sidling up beside him.
“Good afternoon, Charlotte. How are you today?”
“I’m really kind of hot, actually,” she said, twirling her hair with her finger. Ugh. How on earth had Gabe put up with her? I was so glad that was all over now. He’d stopped dating altogether, as a matter of fact, which I didn’t really mind.
“Well, it is that time of year again…” said Father Peter slowly making his way through the crowd of cheerleaders and extracting himself through the other side.
“Do you get hot, Father Peter?” asked Charlotte following him.
“Absolutely. In fact I think right now I’ll head back to the church where it’s cool and get back to work.” He gave a quick nod and turned to leave, tripping down off the curb and stumbling into the street. His audience giggled at a pitch that made me squint.
Poor Father Peter.
“Hey, Riley.”
“Hey, Lacy.”
Lacy Green came up and towered over me. “You’re really brave hanging out with Father Peter these days.”
“I’ve never really cared what Pastor Warren thought.”
“No, you never care what anyone thinks, do you?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Which is pretty obvious from the looks of that outfit.”
I just didn’t have the patience for this kind of attitude anymore. “Lacy, what’s with the insults? It wasn’t too long ago we were sitting at the same table in the caf.”
“Lacy, come on. I want ice cream,” whined Charlotte.
Lacy turned on her sharply. “Oh, y’all just go inside, okay?”
They followed her directions obediently and left us alone. She turned back to me but didn’t say anything.
“Yes?” I finally asked.
“Why’re you hanging out with Father Peter?” she said.
Why did she care? “Lacy, what’s your problem? I thought you thought all the Pastor Warren stuff was stupid too.”
“When’d I say that?”
When had she said that? I’d forgot she had until just then. Now that I remembered…“Pool party.”
“God, how would you remember that?”
Good question. “It seemed strange at the time.” I had a sudden, really insane, idea.
Lacy looked at me and then shook her head. “Whatever. What does it matter what I think? You’re still a freak.”
“True.” And you don’t like Pastor Warren.
“I don’t even know why I’m talking to you.” She turned to follow her friends into the shop.
“Lacy, have you ever gone hunting?”
She stopped and turned around, giving me a look of total indignation. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“Have you?”
She made an exaggerated sigh and rolled her eyes. “Sure, loads. With my dad.”
This was a huge risk, and I really didn’t know if I could trust her. Why was my gut so sure? But it was, so sure. I knew it. I just knew it…
“I’ve got something I’d like to talk to you about.”
Both her eyebrows soared to the top of her forehead.
“What is it?”
“We have to talk in private. It’s kind of a big thing.”
“Sure, Riley, sure it is.” She shook her head at me as if that was something I said to her all the time.
“Lacy, trust me. This is something that’s going to totally blow your mind.”
“Try me.” She didn’t believe me for a second. But she was still obviously curious.
“Fine, sit down.”
She wandered over to the bench and sat down with as much reluctance as she could demonstrate to passersby. She even made sure to sit as far away from me as she could, almost falling off the far edge. I had to slide myself over to her so we could speak without being overheard. I glanced inside and saw her fellow cheerleaders still deciding on a flavor, eating an ice cream cone’s worth in samples. There was time yet.
So I “tried her.” I told her the basics, about my theory (not explaining why I had it because that could maybe put Gabe in danger), and about my plan. It was asking a lot that she believe me without any evidence. And I wasn’t surprised when she laughed in my face.
“Oh my god, Riley, y’all are such a freak.”
“Not really.”
She leaned back in the bench like she was suddenly totally comfortable with me. “Why’re you asking me?”
“Because these days there’s no one to trust. Everyone’s all scared of Pastor Warren. Hell, it’s because everyone believes Pastor Warren. And someone saying that they don’t…that’s unusual.”
“That was ages ago.”
It was. But my stupid gut told me it was still true today. It had to be. Otherwise I’d just compromised the whole thing. “I know.”
She stood up like she’d been shot. I was shocked until I noticed the girls were on their way out of the shop. “I’ll think about it,” she said under her breath.
You will?
“Okay. I’ll let you know when and where,” I replied quickly.
She gave me a curt nod and then went to the door of the shop just as the other girls opened it and stepped outside.
“Lacy, where’ve you been?” asked Charlotte.
“Riley wants to join the squad next year,” she said without a moment’s thought.
“No, seriously?” Charlotte turned to me and grinned. “God, that’s so cute!”
“I had to be gentle, but she didn’t get why I couldn’t let her.”
The girls giggled and all looked at me with pity in their eyes. Then they turned around almost in perfect unison and followed their leader into the shop so she could make her pick. Lacy didn’t even glance in my direction as she left.
I sighed. Well, at least she was a good liar. And it was also a good thing she’d felt she needed to lie about it at all. Both were positive signs. She was obviously interested in helping out.
I just had to hope it’d been the right idea to ask her in the first place.
32.
First day of training was nervewracking. I’d picked up Father Peter in town, and when we arrived Gabe was already at his place talking to the Alexander brothers. Triplets. They looked pretty much the same as when they’d been in school with me, tall lean, hair super short. They’d been two years ahead of me. I had had no idea they were related to Etta Mae. Had no idea much about any of them. They’d always kept to themselves. I remember the big thing when Coach had tried to get them to try out for football. But they weren’t interested, none of them, and things had gotten pretty nasty when it’d been implied that if they didn’t do football then they’d probably never make it to college. Well, Coach had been proven wrong. Now they were all attending the University of New Orleans on academic scholarships—not sports ones. All three. That was pretty cool. In fact, I’d always kind of thought of them as brainiacs and had been a bit surprised when Gabe had said they were interested in shooting.
“You’re Riley?” asked Curtis shaking my hand.
“Yeah. You wouldn’t remember me, but I remember you guys.”
“’Course you do. We were front page news.”
“How’s school?” I asked.
“Awesome. Just finished end-of-term exams.”
“Cool.”
“I’m Curtis. This is John and Daniel,” he said, even though I remembered. Well, okay, they were identical, so it was helpful that he’d said who was who.
“Hey,” I said.
And in unison they responded: “Hey.”
“Thanks, guys, for helping out,” I said as I got my mother’s shotgun out of its carrying case from inside the trunk and followed them around the back of Gabe’s place to the yard and the bayou.
“Well, we’ve been wanting to do something about all this for a good long time,” said Daniel.
“How’d you come up with this plan anyway?” asked John.
“Once everyone’s here, we’ll explain it all. It’s…kind of a big story.”
“I’m good with that,” said John.
We joined Gabe at the back porch. He’d done some decent work on it, and there was now a frame up. There still weren’t any planks across, but we could sit and lean against the supports.
Gabe was sitting on the far end of the frame staring out at the bayou, one leg dangling and one foot up on a cross beam. He was in a tank top and jeans and looked very comfortable in his own skin. I envied him so much. I was terrified about all of this even though it was all my idea. Maybe, actually, because it was my idea. But there he was, looking as cool as ever, like this was just any other day.
“Hey,” I said approaching him. I left the brothers to chat with Father Peter who was standing at the water’s edge.
He turned and looked at me as if he was surprised to see me. “Hey, sweetheart.”
“What were you thinking about?”
“Nothing.” Gabe hopped down off the frame. “Everyone here?”
“Still waiting for Lacy and Wild Frank.”
“Makes for a very interesting army.”
“If by interesting you mean ridiculous, then yeah.”
“So the brothers brought a rifle each, and you’ve got your shotgun,” he said nodding toward me. I wondered if he was thinking about the time I shot him in the face with it.
“Yeah, was tricky getting it out of the house,” I said. “Father Peter also has a rifle, and I’m sure Wild Frank is going to bring lots of options.”
“And Lacy…”
“If Lacy comes at all, I’ll be surprised. But I don’t know if she’ll be able to bring anything with her.”
“We’re pretty well-stocked if she doesn’t.” Gabe jammed his hands in his pockets and looked at me. He didn’t say anything, and that made me feel a bit awkward.
“So…” I said.
“So.”
I lowered my voice. “We’re going to have to tell them everything.”
“I know.”
“You ready for it?”
“Have to be.”
There was the squeal of tires from the road and we turned to see a plume of dust rise up from behind the house.
“I think Wild Frank’s here…” I said.
Sure enough: “Where’s this army? I’m ready to kick some serious angel ass!”
Wild Frank turned the corner, his long greasy hair shoved messily into a camouflage trucker cap. He was wearing a fishing vest—you know, the kind with hundreds of pockets that you put tackle and lures in—but he had the pockets filled with other stuff. I think he thought he was dressed like an army commando or something. ’Course he wasn’t wearing a shirt under the fishing vest.
“Frank,” said Father Peter approaching him. I think Father Peter felt responsible for him. He was, after all, his suggestion.
“Father Priest!” said Wild Frank taking his hand and pulling him into a manly hug, complete with three hard smacks on Father Peter’s back.
“Glad you could help us out,” replied Father Peter, wincing from the pain.
“Do you think he’ll be able to keep his mouth shut about you?” I asked Gabe in a whisper.
“Don’t think it would matter if he didn’t. No one would take that guy seriously.”
“Now that’s what I like to see!” called out Wild Frank. “A hot blonde with a shotgun.”
He must have meant me. I was the only blonde in sight. So I raised a hand and waved slightly reluctantly. He grinned back, then held up his hand. “Be back in a sec!”
“Oh god, this was a terrible idea,” I said, turning toward Gabe.
He laughed. “It’ll be okay.”
“Check it!” called Wild Frank returning.
Gabe glanced over his shoulder. “Or maybe not.”
Wild Frank was brandishing two sawed-off shotguns, holding one in each hand. At his hip was his usual sidearm. “I’m ready! Just tell me where to aim.”
“That’s…great…Frank…” I said approaching him. “But first we have to talk about the plan and everything. And wait for Lacy Green.”
“Shit, you’re kidding me? Two hot blondes with shotguns? Sweet Jesus.” He glanced over at Father Peter. “No offense, Father Priest.”
Father Peter just shook his head.
Unbelievably, the other hot blonde showed up fifteen minutes later. She was, as ever, dressed in her cheerleading outfit, which was, of course, deeply impractical, but I supposed no more so than wearing a fishing vest with no shirt. She made a big show of the fact that she was doing us a great favor by sighing hard upon stepping out of her car and taking in the scenery with a shake of her head.
“Nice,” she said in a way that implied the total opposite. She joined our group and gave us a once over. “Seriously?”
Seriously.
“Hey, Lacy. Glad you could join us,” I said as warmly as I could.
“This is your army?”
“Yup.” Pretending like it was a sincere question, I moved on to the introductions. “So you probably remember the Alexander brothers.” She looked at them blankly. “And of course you know Father Peter and Gabe…” Wild Frank cleared his throat loudly, and I sighed. “And Frank Tinsley.”
“Y’all can’t be serious.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at me.
“Less is more,” I said not quite believing it. “We can’t have too many folks, otherwise we’d draw suspicion.”
“Oh, can it, Riley. It has nothing to do with that. This was all you could find.”
“Fine, yes, maybe you’re right. But I still think we can do this,” I said, my voice getting higher in pitch. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I knew it was Gabe trying to calm me down.
“Lacy, you don’t have to help,” said Gabe. “But let us just tell you the story and then you can make up your mind.”
Gabe seemed to cool her down a little, and she shrugged, I guess in agreement. Our little team gathered around the dock, which Gabe had reinforced and didn’t look like it was going to collapse under our weight anymore.
Then it was time to tell the story, or at least the story as Gabe knew it. I left out all the same stuff, that Gabe had been a slave and so on. It felt a bit too private. And not necessary to convince them of my plan. I was glad Father Peter already knew the story and that I had Gabe to help me. He was amazing at making anything seem plausible and at easing people’s reactions. Which was really useful when I explained everything. ’Course it helped that we were a town that had been dealing with these angels for six years now. It made almost anything fantastical totally possible: Gabe was from the 50s? Well, with the help of those old yearbooks and just the way Gabe was and talked every day…Sure, why not? Used to be an angel, now just a guy? Makes sense. Our angels aren’t really angels after all? I knew it! We’d like to use these “angels” as target practice…“Hell yeah!” Well…at least we had Wild Frank on our side.
’Course it wasn’t that simple, really. You could tell they were all a bit overwhelmed with everything we were telling them, but they recovered from the shock pretty darn quickly. All things considered.
“You really think if we shoot them down, we can save them?” asked Curtis after the long quiet that followed the story.
“I do,” I replied. “It’s what happened with Gabe at least, like killing them frees them to be human again or something. I think that there must be something special about the time and day they come. Maybe they only have a brief window of opportunity to come into our world, which is why they don’t show up more often. So they look like these angel things, and then you kill them, and since they’re dead or whatever they don’t have power or magic anymore. Then when that window closes, they turn back into humans. I mean, that seems to be what happened to Gabe.”
“What do you mean by window?” asked John.
> “I dunno, like a crack between our world and theirs…”
Everyone sat and thought about that quietly for a while.
“I could be wrong…” I said when no one said anything.
“Makes sense,” said Gabe finally. “Makes a lot of sense.”
“Damn good sense,” said Wild Frank enthusiastically.
“How exactly are we going to shoot these angels?” asked Lacy. It was an annoying question, only because that was probably our biggest challenge.
“We train,” replied Gabe.
“We’ve got almost four months. That gives us a lot of time,” I added.
“We should maybe figure out what everyone’s level is,” said John, “before creating a plan.”
“Good idea,” I said. I liked how everyone seemed pretty keen to get going.
Even Lacy seemed like she was interested, asking questions in a sarcastic tone that you knew she actually meant sincerely: “So, how’re we going to do that, then?”
“I guess we pick a target and shoot,” said Father Peter.
It was a practical suggestion. Gabe wandered over to where he’d been sitting on the porch and opened up a plastic bag. He took out a stack of paper plates.
“Figure we could tack them on to a tree, test aim and accuracy,” he said. “Let’s use the rifles for that.” We agreed, and he and Curtis set about finding a good tree in the brush with some distance to it and attaching the plate.
Lacy wandered over to me as they were doing all this. Any time she paid any attention to me, I automatically felt nervous. And defensive.
“I can’t shoot,” she said quietly.
“What?”
“I can’t shoot.”
“I thought you said you went hunting with your dad?” I turned to look at her and was surprised to see a look of serious concern in her eyes.
“I’ve been with him. Twice. Was never allowed to touch the gun. Not something a lady does.”
“Why’d you—”
“I lied, okay? I lied. I…didn’t know, when you asked, why you were asking. Then, when you told me, I…wanted to help.” She seemed deeply ashamed to admit that last part.
I sighed. “Lacy. I’ve only shot a gun myself half a dozen times. Not sure if Gabe has ever. That’s why we’re giving ourselves this much time. Look, you’re head cheerleader, you have amazing coordination, and you’re really disciplined. You’ll be fine.” Lacy nodded, but I could tell she was feeling unsure. “Okay,” I said, “I’ll go first, and you can see that I really don’t have that much experience, okay?”
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