by Ted Hill
Forty-Three
Margaret
Long evening shadows filled the church when Margaret finally awoke. Samuel sat next to her on the floor. They were the only two there. She wiped sleep from her eyes and smiled at him.
“Is everything okay?”
Samuel stretched in the grip of a giant yawn. “You missed a whole day of excitement.”
Margaret sat up and joined him in a stretch. Her thoughts were still hazy from exhaustion after healing Billy and retuning his spirit. Catherine was nowhere around. She probably recovered a lot quicker. From her past lives, Margaret knew her body would adjust to the healing process with repetition.
“The fire burned down the food storage building and everything inside that the Britts had managed to can for the winter. If you’re hungry, we should probably get over to Brittany’s before all the food is gone. Those Cozad kids are starving.”
“Were any of the other buildings damaged from the fire?”
“No, we got lucky there. I’m told that Barbie brought down a monsoon. The fire didn’t have a chance.”
“I remember that. I was in the middle of things with Billy. Is he okay?”
Samuel sat next to her. “He’s shook up about Preston, but other than that he’s alive and back in control of himself.”
Margaret folded her hands in her lap. She hadn’t even thought about Preston and how that might affect Billy. Even though she knew who she was now, she also remembered who Molly had been to this community and how much she was helping kids deal with life. Margaret would have to continue that mission, starting with Billy.
“How are you doing?” Samuel asked.
Margaret tilted her head and gave the question some proper reflection before answering.
Samuel must have gotten nervous. “Margaret?”
“I’m okay.”
“Just okay?”
“Just okay. I have a lot to figure out and haven’t really had the chance to do that. Now that everything is over, for a while…”
They sat silently. Margaret knew she and Samuel had been forming some type of closeness. She hadn’t realized how close their relationship had become until now. She felt comfortable in his presence. It was very unlike the tumultuous feelings she had in Hunter’s presence earlier.
“Where is Hunter?”
The atmosphere around them changed as Samuel shifted side to side. “He, or rather the angel, took that Famine dude somewhere safe. That’s what Jimmy told me. I guess they flew off west. They didn’t say when they’d be back.”
Margaret nodded, unsure of what to do next, until her stomach rumbled. “Well, maybe we should go eat something. You haven’t been here with me the whole time, have you? You must be hungry.”
“I’m okay. Mark didn’t want you to be alone when you woke up.”
“Mark likes to worry.”
“He and Jimmy have that in common.”
“What about you?”
Samuel turned his head and she looked into his eyes. They were a soft brown with that mischievous sparkle he now tried to hide without success.
“Were you worried about me?”
Samuel played it off with a laugh. “No, I knew you’d be okay.”
Margaret stood and took his hand, pulling him off the floor. “Let’s go eat. On the way you can try to convince me that I’m okay.”
* * *
Dinner ended and Margaret escaped the crowd to be alone in the still night air. The steady beat of wings sounded in the distance and grew louder until she watched Hunter settle smoothly on the ground. He fell to his knees, moaning in pain as the wings on his back disappeared. When the process finished, he was left lying there, panting.
Margaret stepped quickly to him. “Are you all right?”
Pain registered in his eyes. “I think I’m going to live.” He accepted her hand and stood on wobbly legs. “That was a lot of flying.”
“Where did you go?”
“We flew all the way to the mountains and dumped Tommy in a cave. Then Michael brought the entrance down. He said it was best that way because if Tommy died, then that horseman would just find somebody else. At least Tommy wanted what happened to him.”
“How do you know that?”
Hunter shrugged. “I don’t. It’s just easier to think that, I guess.”
Margaret made no move to hug Hunter like she would have done by now if she was her old self. For some reason it just didn’t feel right anymore. She loved Hunter, she just wasn’t in love with Hunter. She couldn’t shake the feeling that their relationship was about something else. These were the lies she’d been telling herself through dinner in preparation for this moment.
Hunter smiled at her, his white teeth reflecting the moonlight. He had all his teeth again.
“What?” she asked him.
“If you thought a little louder I would probably be able to hear you.”
“Hunter, I’m a different person.”
He nodded. “It’s okay. I am too. This has been the craziest two days of my life. I flew to the mountains on a pair of wings that grew out of my back.”
“That is pretty crazy,” Margaret said. “Yesterday I found out that I’ve been alive for seventeen years without knowing who I was before.”
“So when you say you’re a different person, you really mean it?”
Margaret sighed. “I’m still Molly, but I’m also a reincarnated saint who’s lived several different lifetimes and has just woken up to discover that I haven’t been in control.”
“And that’s bad?”
“No, it’s just different.”
This was not going exactly like she had planned or thought she wanted. Everything confused her now, yet everything had cleared like morning fog when the sunshine broke. Only the sun had faded an hour ago and nighttime was going to be here for a while. Margaret wanted to make the changes in the dark. That way it might be less painful, she hoped.
“I saw the way you looked at her,” Margaret said.
“Barbie? I don’t think that’s my fault. She and the angel had a thing.”
“Yes, I knew about that. What do you mean had?”
“She broke up with him before we left. I have no idea why. He didn’t feel like talking about it on the trip. I promise, Molly, I didn’t do anything with her.”
“My name’s Margaret now.”
He didn’t respond.
“I love you, Hunter.”
“But it’s different.”
“Yes.”
“Okay, I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I think I do,” he said. “Did you want the apartment? It was yours.”
“No, you can keep it. I owe you since I burned your house down. That way you and Scout can still be neighbors.”
“Fantastic.”
Margaret wanted to leave. The Molly side of her was already crying and Margaret didn’t know if she could keep herself together much longer. She’d committed herself to go this far. She couldn’t go back and do this to either of them again.
“I’m going to go talk to Jimmy.”
Margaret was glad for the change of topic, if only to delay the upcoming heartache. She felt it before as Molly. She recognized the warning signs: the shortness of breath, the building of tears, and the terrible feeling of a definite ending.
“You should. He seemed really happy at dinner. They left early and went back to Ginger’s house.”
“What will you do?”
“I’ll go pack a few things from the apartment. Then I’ll stay at Mark’s tonight until I get settled somewhere.”
That did it. She had to go. She gripped his arm as she passed and continued walking as the tears flowed down her face. She became a full blown, sobbing mess by the time she reached their apartment. Margaret closed the door behind her, thankful that Hunter hadn’t followed.
After a while she reigned in her crying enough to pack a small bag. She rinsed away the sadness from her face and was preparing to leave when she spotte
d one other item and grabbed it.
The walk to the edge of town was familiar. He sat on the porch, staring into the darkness when she arrived. His smile was hesitant but brightened as she approached. Margaret sat next to Samuel on the steps and returned his shirt.
Forty-Four
Hunter
Nighttime felt strangely disturbed. Exhaustion from the past two days caught up to Hunter like the gust of wind that whipped through town and brushed its hot breath in his face. He was alone again, the way he liked it.
He walked through the empty streets, past the houses where candlelight flickered. Hunter knew the candles would burn late tonight. It had been one of those days where some extra light provided safety to those who were afraid of the dark. However the dark wasn’t the only time that badness happened. The kids of Independents found out that terrible things could walk right down the middle of Main Street on a sunny day.
Hunter rolled his shoulder and worked his arm in a circle. The ache returned, but now he knew why it was there thanks to his angelic hitchhiker. Nothing like having an angel on your shoulder. The pain served as a reminder to always try and be good, and to balance out the bad. That’s what the angel had told him on their long flight to the mountains and back. Funny, Hunter never would have guessed that an angel would have a sense of humor.
He stopped on the street when he reached Ginger’s house. Jimmy was inside with his family—probably happy.
Hunter thought about Molly and experienced another type of ache. She had become his family, or at least the hope for the future. Now that was gone, again.
Hunter let her go. He had too. He knew things had changed between them. They’d changed, and it was better this way. End it quick and move on.
He stepped halfway up the walkway and stopped. He couldn’t see his brother just yet. Too much stuff roiled inside of him. Let Jimmy enjoy his homecoming.
The front door opened and light from a lantern inside flooded into the yard, washing over Hunter. Jimmy filled the frame. He closed the door, which swallowed the light and left them in the dark together.
Jimmy’s tall, lean body looked unscathed for having been underground in a wooden box. He worked fresh creases into the bill of his baseball cap before slapping it on.
“Hey, Jimmy.”
Jimmy almost jumped out of his boots. “Hunter! Are you trying to kill me?”
Hunter didn’t know how to answer that. A streak of guilt wormed inside his guts. “I never meant to kill you.”
Jimmy left the porch. He stopped a couple of feet short and stuck his hands inside his jean pockets. “I didn’t mean it like that. And you didn’t kill me. Everything that happened back in Denver happened for a reason.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Why not? Look at all the things that came from that day. Look at yourself and the amazing thing that happened to you.”
“What? I’ve been invaded by someone that doesn’t help out when I’m getting my ass handed to me. I just heal up and keep taking it.” Hunter shifted his feet and shoved his own hands into his pockets.
Jimmy stared at him with unwelcomed scrutiny. “What happened?”
Hunter’s body convulsed and he stumbled away, not wanting to talk about anything with anyone. This was his mess—his life. Hunter was always alone. He accepted that long ago when his parents died, regardless of how much Jimmy had been there to help him through it. The greatest thing that ever happened was when Hunter rode his motorbike out of Independents for the first time. He was free in that moment to do whatever. He didn’t have to return. Not really. Not if he didn’t want to.
Jimmy grabbed his arm before he stepped into the street. “What happened?”
“You left me!” Hunter said. “Just like Mom and Dad.” He couldn’t stop the pain from ripping out of him. “I was the one who was supposed to leave, but instead you took that from me. I’m afraid.”
Jimmy dropped hold of Hunter’s arm, but he remained close. “Afraid of what?”
It was a simple question. What was it? Hunter had been trying to figure this question out for so long. He was not scared of anything. Scared meant you ran. Hunter never ran. He would never back down.
But he was afraid, and that was something totally different. Being afraid meant you didn’t want to face something intangible.
“I’m afraid of being home.”
Jimmy’s silence was loud.
Another brush of hot air ran over them, prompting Hunter to continue. “I can’t be the only one left when this is over. I can’t come back here and find everyone gone. But I can’t stay and do nothing. I have to take this fight away from here.”
“Where is all this coming from?” Jimmy asked.
“Damn it, Jimmy, don’t you see? I’m the reason all this is happening here in Independents. It’s like you said, these things happen for a reason, but I’m the one that it’s all circling around. I find Catherine, Molly, and now Barbie. I die and when I come back I have this archangel inside of me. Maybe if I leave, then the rest of you will be saved.”
“But this is your home,” Jimmy said.
“And that’s why I have to leave.”
“Leave?”
“I can’t allow this to follow me home anymore.”
“Look, you’re putting too much on yourself. We need you, Hunter. Regardless of what you think, this is happening to all of us, not just you and not because of you. This is happening for bigger reasons that don’t have anything to do with us. We just have to survive. We’re all in this mess together. You going away would not change that.”
Hunter nodded, but inside he knew he was right. He saw it with a clarity that shocked him. If he left, Independents would be saved. He’d never convince Jimmy. He didn’t have to.
“Hunter?”
“You’re right.” He sighed, trying to release some of the tension, but he already felt most of it slip away. If he was wrong about this, wouldn’t the angel inside tell him? “I’m just a little upset right now. Molly and I broke up.”
“When did this happen?”
“About fifteen minutes ago.”
“Why?”
Hunter shrugged and told the truth. “Because of all the changes.”
Jimmy rested his hand on his brother’s shoulder. It made Hunter feel like the younger brother again. “Why don’t you come inside? We have room.”
“No, I’m ready for a good night sleep in my own bed. Molly said I could have the apartment. I’ve actually been thinking about my bed for the past couple days.”
Jimmy smiled at him. “See, it’s not so bad being home.”
Hunter rubbed the back of his neck. Being in his bed and being home were two very different things to him. His bed would be a relief for his many aches and pains. The loss of a true home would never heal properly.
Jimmy pulled Hunter close and hugged him fiercely.
Hunter returned the love with just as much strength. “I’m glad you’re back alive.”
“I’m glad you’re here with me.”
* * *
Hunter slowly climbed the top step to his apartment. His whole body felt trashed. Someone stepped out of the shadows and Hunter thought Molly had a change of heart. Maybe she wanted to forget about all that breaking up mess.
Barbie moved into the moonlight. “I was starting to worry.”
Hunter smiled. “Oh yeah? What about?”
“I didn’t think you were coming back.”
Hunter tilted his head, trying to read her face in the dark to see if she had guessed. But then he thought she meant something else. “Are you talking about me or him?”
She closed the small distance between the front door and the top step. Barbie looped her arms around his neck and leaned close to his ear. “I wanted to see you, Hunter.”
Hunter circled his arms around her and held her close. It felt right this time. He opened the door and followed her inside.
A candle was lit on the coffee table, sending a soft glow throughout the room.
Catherine sat on the couch in her pink pajamas holding a teddy bear.
“Where have you two been?”
“I had to drop Tommy somewhere safe,” Hunter said. “What are you doing in here?”
“I wanted to let Jimmy be with his family tonight. I think tomorrow Barbie, Margaret and I should find a house to live in. What do you think, Barbie?”
“I...” Barbie began to say and looked at Hunter and then at Catherine, who was busy fussing with her teddy bear’s fur. “You’re right. That would probably be best.”
“Great,” Catherine said and stretched into a giant yawn. “We’re going to steal your bed tonight if that’s okay, Hunter? You don’t mind sleeping on the couch, do you?”
He stared at the couch as the girls left him there for the comfort of his bed. He turned in time to see Barbie closing the door, staring at him with a blank expression. Then she was gone and Hunter was alone in the night, wiped out from his trip to Cozad and his flight to the mountains. He sat down on the couch and waited for morning. When sleep finally came, he passed into it thankfully, and once again found his parents living in his dreams.
Forty-Five
Scout
The next day Scout sat with his knees bouncing, reading over his sermon again, making sure it sounded right. The congregation shuffled into the pews while Vanessa powered through old hymns on the church piano that desperately needed tuning. There were more kids filing in than Scout had ever seen on a Sunday morning, plus with the addition of Cozad, every row was packed full. The stained glass windows were open and a breeze drifted from one side of the building to the other, flapping pages in the open hymnals. Sweat moistened the collar of Scout’s white button-up shirt, which he absently swiped a finger around. After scriptures and singing, Scout stood at the pulpit.
“I believe in God. I can’t tell you why exactly. Maybe it’s because my parents taught me to. Maybe that’s good enough. It’s comforting to know that one of the things my parents taught me before they died was to believe in God.
