by Marcy McKay
I hold my hands in the air, but start inching toward the door. It’s the only way out. That must’ve been her yesterday in Paradise. Me and Turdmouth had just seen Spook killed, then Eddie Loco was chasing us. I caught a glimpse of her calling to me, but thought she was trying to save me. I led those gangbangers away to keep her safe. I was so wrong about her. I was so wrong about a lot things.
She creeps closer, while I keep edging back. She was always so nice … gave me cash to repay Diablo … prayed over me to find Mama. “Why do you want to hurt me?”
“Think, dear girl. Open your eyes.”
“I-I didn’t steal your cash. You gave that to me, but you can have it all and more. It’s right here. Everything.” I reach for my envelope, but she slaps my hand away.
The front door bumps against me, the knob jammed in my back. I’m cornered. Miz Jesus reaches behind me to lock the door and turns off the light.
Darkness covers the room, but I see the outline of the cross up front. I feel the knife’s sharp tip against my throat. Shame rips through me that I ever thought she was better than Mama. I feel sorry for her three, perfect kids.
We’re so close her elbow’s touching mine. I want to scream. It’s still pouring rain, but there’s enough moon through the window to see the silver blade, still bloody from Diablo. I’ll be able to watch her kill me.
Her voice bites extra hard as she says, “God will surely judge people who are immoral and commit adultery.”
So, she knows her husband’s a cheater. I wonder if Mr. Jesus is home bleeding out in their mansion. The ghostly light shows the shadows on her face. “We were happy until she ruined my marriage.”
The way Miz Jesus whips the blade against my throat says she blames me for that. Salt and Pepper saw Mr. Jesus chasing Mama from our room on Valentine’s Day night, so she must mean her.
Hate rages from Miz Jesus so bad I can almost touch it. I try to distract her. “What about your kids? You don’t want to lose your family.”
She slaps me so hard my head knocks against the door. “How dare you!” More blood seeps into my mouth. I cower away. She says, “Don’t you dare mock me. I’m still a good wife, enough though I never could …”
She lashes the knife out at me, but I race across the room. It barely misses my jacket. She’s fumbling through the dark after me.
I reach over the pew to grab a bible from the built-in shelf. We shriek together as I backhand her with it. Miz Jesus shouts and tumbles on top of Diablo. He takes the full force of her fall and they lie tangled, alive and dead. I hear the knife skidding across the floor. I’m not sure whether to go for it or the door.
Escape.
Her boots scramble close behind and I scream. Desperate, I trip and stumble, but keep clambering forward. I’m almost to the door when she slams me against it, crushing my face. The bible flies away. I holler as she slams me a few more times for punishment, the knob digging into my hip each time.
Whipping me around, she smacks my cheek where Diablo already sliced me. “It’s all your fault!”
I holler again ’til Miz Jesus slaps her giant, man-hand over my mouth. Her eyes laser into me. “Scream again and I’ll kill you now. Understand?”
I nod. This close to her, I finally smell the rat that’s been hiding in my brain. She’s not wearing her regular flowery perfume. It’s Mr. Jesus’ woodsy cologne. Terror rushes back since that’s what I smelled during my attack. It’s the forgotten something I couldn’t remember. She wore his stink as a disguise. My nose knew it all along, but it took the rest of me longer to figure out.
She uncovers my mouth and I say in a low growl, “You tried to kill me the other night.”
“Bravo. You’re smarter than I thought.”
“You’re the Street Killer, too.”
“No, Diablo’s the Street Killer. His knife committed those tragedies. It won’t explain his death to the police, but that’s not my concern. I’ll be in Honduras tomorrow.”
“Why’d you do it?”
“God hates the poor. Every bit of your suffering is in direct proportion to your sin.”
“What’s my sin?”
She hisses, “Daughter of Jezebel.”
“The police are already here, you know.”
“I’m well aware of them. I almost caught you outside the mausoleum.”
I thought that was O’Dell and tremble. Maybe No-Brains would’ve heard me scream then and he could’ve saved me. Now, he won’t hear her murder me.
Thunder snaps, then lightning flashes through the window. Fear chokes me tighter. I’m about to die. Miz Jesus fumbles with something that makes a loud ripping sound, then I see it. Heavy-duty, silver tape.
I scream and try to fight her off, but she punches me several times in the gut. I drop to the floor where she knees my face so hard that the pain dizzies me. My whole body turns to Jell-O.
Lying facedown, she pins her knees in my back, then loops the tape around my wrists behind me several times. Miz Jesus talks to herself as she goes, “Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”
She rips off another strand to cover my mouth. I try to wriggle away ’til she rips me back by the hair and slaps a sticky piece over my lips, gluing ’em together. “He thinks he can placate me by saying I’m the most Godly woman he knows.”
Godly.
Bird’s gibberish rushes back to me: “Death wanted Corrine for his bride…the godlies married them…she flew straight to the sun to perch with the godlies…”
I shout another muffled scream. Was Bird trying to tell me this freak murdered Mama? “Shhhh, it’s okay.” Miz Jesus flips me over and cups my cheeks with her gloved hands. My skin skitters away, though I’m still stuck here.
She rips out a few strands of my hair. It stings. With the knife in one hand, she wraps my red hair around her free finger. Twisting me onto her, around and around. “Your mother screamed so loud when I killed her.”
CHAPTER 42
The storm swirls all around us as Miz Jesus shoves me along through the graves, her knife staying square in my back. The rain’s probably already washed the blade clean from Diablo, but Miz Jesus wants my blood to dirty it again. I’ve tugged at my taped wrists. They won’t budge. I don’t holler anymore; she’s pounded me into silence. My ribs still hurt and I’m soaked to the bone.
I’m also bone scared.
Miz Jesus seems to be leading me home to the Warrior Angel, but she makes a giant curve around the crime scene at the Vanderhausen Mausoleum. I can hear Mama crying from the ground.
My best hope is for O’Dell and Turdmouth to be waiting for me at the statue. No-Brains would be even better since he’s got a gun. The spotlight still glows through the storm, shining down on Mama’s mangled body.
Are you watching now, Mama? If so, save me.
Thunder snaps across the night and lightning blazes back. It zaps a tree nearby, brightening the cemetery and cracking the whole trunk. We both yell and jump together, then everything turns black again. Miz Jesus pushes me to keep walking to my grave.
At the Warrior Angel, she shoves me to the wet, snowy ground. My hands tied behind me can’t break the fall, so I nosedive down and slush stuffs my nose. The wind howls and the clouds keep dumping buckets.
She jerks me up again, then backhands me into the statue. My head snaps against the base, hitting one of the etched vine leaves. A new knot forms. I stagger and swoon, more blood trickling into my mouth. Darkness creeps over me more.
Laughing, she pulls me close and whispers, “I killed your dog just because you loved him.” Our gazes lock in understanding and her grin widens. “His blood wasn’t enough to cover your sins.”
I scream, long and desperate against the tape. Poor Sugar died ’cause of me. I don’t know what sins she’s talking about, but somehow it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry, Sugar.
She shoves me and I tumble back to the ground. Staring up, I see Miz Jesus dive onto me, knife firs
t, but I roll away before she stabs my heart. I can’t fight her with my fists, so I spin around to kick her in the face, catching her in the nose.
Blood splatters everywhere. I wobble my way up to standing, then race away. My shoe hits a loose urn and sends it rolling through the storm. If I can just make it to the crime scene, then I’ll be safe. Cops will be there with guns. It’s tricky to sprint tied up, but I do my best and follow the spotlight.
Miz Jesus skips after me, singing their theme song into the night, “What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear …”
Her angel voice chills me. I’m running for my life, but not sure it’s fast enough to stay alive. As I round the corner toward the Historic Section, the Vanderhausens are just one corner away. Miz Jesus swipes me with her boot.
Reeling down again, I eat more mud. She drags me across the ground, while humming their song. Rain pelts my face. Snow and dead leaves catch in my ears and hair. I’m beyond frozen. Time’s running out. I’m fighting so hard, but it’s just not enough. I hear Diablo’s wailing wind, but that can’t be.
He’s dead.
The Warrior Angel pops into view, his sword ready for action, but I’m on my own tonight. Miz Jesus drops onto my chest, pinning me with her knees. I buck and kick against her, but she’s too strong. My brain’s all jumbled, pain rocks through me harder.
She screams, “Daughter of Jezebel!”
What?
I hear Diablo’s wailing wind again. It’s closer. A voice shouts, “Angela! No!”
She gasps, “Tony.”
Mr. Jesus charges at us. He’s a hazy shadow through the rain. The moon shines on us all. His black slicker matches hers.
He knocks the knife from her. It falls nearby, beyond my reach. He looks at me gagged and tied, then shouts at her, “My God. What have you done?”
She shoves him hard. “What have I done? What have I done? This is all your fault!” She digs her boot against my chest to keep me prisoner, while screaming more at him. I’m trapped between their fight.
I cough and spit more rain. He grabs for me, but she knocks him away and moves her boot down to my chest to pin me worse.
More coughs sputter out. I can breathe now, but still can’t move. They holler back-and-forth, but I can only catch bits and pieces through the wind.
She shrieks, “…take me for a fool?”
He yells, “…don’t do this…”
“…adulterer…”
“…I’ve changed…”
“…pay for her sins.” Miz Jesus swings her free fist at Mr. Jesus.
He ducks, knocking the hood of his slicker back. His fiery red hair’s drenched right away. The wind and rain almost topples ’em both over. He’s gripping her hands together and yelling, “…don’t hurt my daughter…”
My daughter? That can’t be me … but, she keeps calling me Jezebel’s daughter, whoever that is. Oh, no …
Is Mr. Jesus my daddy? I scream a muffled shriek at the horrible thought, then roll full force away from him. I throw her enough off balance that she tumbles against him and he holds her tight.
He shouts to me, “Run!”
I’m staggering to my feet as he’s wrestling her down. She screams and reaches my way, kicking and punching him the whole time. I can’t find my balance and drop down again. I struggle to get back up, but can’t.
He lifts her high into the air, then slams her to the ground. He kicks the knife far away.
Miz Jesus doesn’t move. She didn’t hit her head, but he still might’ve killed her. I hope so. She deserves it.
He rushes here, then kneels beside me. Staring into his emerald eyes, that same shoelace feeling ties us together again and now I understand why. It wasn’t from watching his TV show or his charm in person. Our fiery hair and eyes match each other. It makes sense why Mama always hated him so bad.
Hell becomes real ’cause…
MR. JESUS IS MY DADDY!
I’m still shrieking as he rips the tape from my mouth. A layer of skin rips off with it, but I still scream and scream. I howl like Diablo’s wailing wind with too much pain. I don’t want him for my daddy. No. A preacher for a daddy’s worse than a pig for an uncle.
He shouts something, but I don’t catch it all. “Didn’t know… two weeks ago…so sorry.”
The rain still beats me, though I’m drowning in my own tears. I always wanted a daddy and a mommy, to be a real family, but not with him. Especially, without Mama. This cannot be happening, but I see me stamped all over him.
He pats my shoulder. “Don’t cry. Your mother and I—”
An urn smashes against his head. Mr. Jesus craters across my belly, knocking the air out of me. I’m trapped beneath him.
First, I see the knife, then Miz Jesus. She brushes wet curls off my face and smiles so sweet, then whispers, “I wonder if you’re a bleeder like your mom.”
CHAPTER 43
“You killed my mama!” I bite Miz Jesus’ hand as hard as possible, while I claw, scream and fight to get her husband—my daddy—off me. She shrieks and drops the knife, while the slick rain pours down faster. This woman’s leaving a trail of bones here at the cemetery: Mama, Sugar, Diablo.
I’m next.
The knife’s close enough for me to lick, but I can’t grab it tied up and trapped under Mr. Jesus. She snatches up the blade again and slams it toward my chest. I just see silver speeding this way.
My scared gives me enough super strength to twist away and flip Mr. Jesus off me, as her knife crashes into the ground. It cuts off the end of my hair. He’s lying facedown in the grass. She won’t stop ’til I’m dead.
With my free feet, I double-kick her in the face, sending her head cracking against the Warrior Angel. While she’s struggling, I make my way up, though every part of me’s covered in slushy mud.
I can’t pick up the knife, but kick it even farther away. Next, I run like hell toward Mama’s killer.
This woman murdered my everything. I snap and torpedo myself straight into Miz Jesus, growling, then head-butt her. She crashes into the Warrior Angel so hard I’m surprised he doesn’t shatter. Stumbling back into a puddle, I regain my balance and boot her in the gut. She may murder me, but I might kill her, too.
Her man-hand clobbers my chin so hard that I spin like a top, collapsing beside Mr. Jesus. That urn lays next to him. I wish I could smash it against her.
Fear pounds me worse than this storm. She snatches the knife up again. I duck and twirl to the side, but not quick enough. She’s leaning over me, swinging the blade back-and-forth at me. It slices through my jacket and shirt, then cuts my shoulder.
The cut burns like a wildfire and the blood soaks my already wet shirt. Lying here, I plunge deeper into the darkness. My thoughts run together—Mama, California, me. I’m slipping away…
Lightning flashes over the Warrior Angel. He’s white like the spotlight. Thunder booms and the statue falls black again. I remember his wings stretched wide the other night, his sword swishing through the air. He didn’t save me tonight, but that’s okay. Me and Mama will be together again soon.
Whiteness flashes again, but seems different than before. It points at me.
My mind can’t focus. A flashlight?
I see the outline of a few people. I hear No-Brains yell through a megaphone, “Police, stop! Drop the knife! Get on the ground.”
Miz Jesus doesn’t.
Night, rain, death—they all surround me. No-Brains looks like a big, blurry shadow. I think I see Turdmouth and O’Dell, but can’t be sure. My pain feels heavier than my thoughts. I can’t do this.
Miz Jesus jerks me off the ground by the hair. I shriek, but she clutches me tighter from behind, the knife pressed against my neck. Blood trickles down my chest and these cuts throb. The trees, the graves, even the rain swirls before me. I’m trying to hold on, but death’s black sludge pulls me closer.
No-Brains shouts, “It’s over, Mrs. Sanborne. Let the girl go.”
She inches us ba
ck toward the Warrior Angel, screaming into the storm. “Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, burn for burn, and wound for wound!”
She’s dreamed of revenge against Mama, using it like a song to sing herself to sleep at night. The sound of our screams…the fear on our faces…the thrill of stabbing us over and over again. Has she done this for years, or did she just learn about me?
No matter. Seeing me made her hate come alive, and she murdered Mama over it.
No-Brains yells, “Drop your weapon, or we’ll shoot.”
Death dances through the air as she forces us backward, yelling, “You can kill me, but she’s dying tonight.”
My fuzziness shows me all the pretty bones at Eternal Peace—all fifty thousand bodies buried here. I feel their heartache and their hope, their love and their hate. Are they feeling mine now?
We stop at the Warrior Angel. He’s hovering above us, watching my death like a movie. The night bleeds sadness as Miz Jesus rocks back and forth, like she’s deciding just when to kill me. The pearly handle dangles right under my nose. I’m whimpering.
Out of nowhere, O’Dell jumps in front of me and Miz Jesus. No-Brains hollers for him to stop, but he doesn’t. I’m so glad for me, but so scared for him.
She uses me as a shield and thrashes the knife at him with her other hand, flailing at him, this way and that. No-Brains keeps shouting, but they keep fighting. She stays ducked behind me, but must’ve grazed O’Dell.
He’s yelling and gripping his shoulder. Blood flowers across his green raincoat as he stumbles off into the black rain. I think someone pulls him away, but can’t tell for sure.
Fear hammers through me. That was my last best chance. I’m not ready to die. I loved Mama and want to be together again, but I also want to grow up. I want to have a kid someday and give us a better life. Mama grew up in a house, but chose the streets instead. I want to be a regular girl … woman … and old lady. I want a life.
Miz Jesus snatches my wet hair into a tight ponytail, lifts the knife higher, then screams, “Surrender yourself unto the Lord.”
Everything happens at once, but moves in s-l-o-w motion. Miz Jesus smashes the blade toward my chest, but it crawls slower than a snail. I hear the crack of a gun, but the bullet creeps through the air.
