Flee From Evil (24 page)

Thinking of what Ayo had said about Amit’s prophetic verses, Vince shuddered. Then he realized he wasn’t rich anymore and had nothing to ransom. Was Amit talking about his tickets? Vince almost wiped his brow and uttered a large “phew.” Boy, planning this picnic with the woman he longed to hold again had him on edge. It was like being a meth addict in a room filled with crystal.

Amit trotted away to the water-gun shoot.

A loud rumble rounded the intersection leading to the church and up the drive. It could only mean one thing—Billy, astride his prized Harley donning mirrored shades and a broad smile that almost straightened the fu-man-chu across his face.

“Hey.” He slapped Vince’s hand in a greeting. “Place looks busy.” His deep voice rolled in appreciation. He checked the watch almost camouflaged by the myriad of tattoos covering his forearm. “At noon, I whoop ya over there.” He swept his large hand to the basketball hoop and then to the dunk tank. “There, you go down at four.” Billy’s eyes sparked as he poofed out his fingers and enunciated the next word. “Splash.”

Great.
“Right, dude. You just try.”

Given Billy’s expression, it probably wasn’t a good thing to challenge him further.

“Pastor Vince.” Sophie jogged up pulling a reluctant Sky. “You remember Sky, don’t you?”

The boy nodded. “Sir.” For some reason the title felt more aloof than polite.

“You know Mr. Lewis, right?”

“Billy,” the man corrected. “Met them both at the Sanchez house project.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Sky said.

Sophie touched Billy’s forearm. “What’s this tattoo supposed to be?” She pointed to the big red rectangle. “I bet it has a special meaning.”

How she could get that from the one most non-descript, Vince could not fathom. “Are you looking for a testimony?” He loved her little penchant for collecting stories, even if it had come from the other man whom she had called father.

“You remembered?” Her blue eyes—so much like his own—beamed.

“My testimony?” Billy’s eyebrows jumped. “Not sure you’re ready for that.”

Vince nodded. “I have a feeling she could handle it.”

“Pastor Vince has already promised to tell me his.”

Billy’s eyes went wide. “He did?”

“That’s only if your mother okays it.” Now, more than ever, he knew she’d hear it one way or another.

Sophie tapped the tattoo again. “So, what does it mean?”

“Hmmm.” Billy hesitated, probably wondering how to explain it without saying the words. “That had once been a tattoo of something I used to say a lot in my former life. And when I became a Christian I felt it best not to broadcast it anymore.”

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Why didn’t you have it removed?”

His black T-shirt broadened with the intake of air. “Cuz I wanted it covered with the blood-a-Jesus, baby.” He held a hand up for Vince to slap. “The blood-a-Jesus.”

Something about Sky’s expression drew Vince from the conversation. The kid was silent, stiff. Almost too observant. It crawled into Vince’s spine and held tight. He couldn’t shake it. Sophie tugged Sky away to the ticket booth, before Vince could appraise him further.

Billy turned. “Have you seen Pop?”

“Lew’s coming?” Vince tried not to sound too incredulous. He was supposed to believe in miracles.

“He promised to give hay rides to the kids.”

Vince’s mouth dropped open.

Billy’s grin took on a new dimension of joy. “Even souped up the tractor engine to make it go faster.” He nodded toward Mrs. Hessing and her grandson in line for the moon bounce. “I think he’s taken a liking to that Tibo kid. Wanted to do it for him.”

Vince understood. Tibo had a way of worming into your heart without a word.

“When I told him the picnic was to raise money for the special needs program, Old Softy cleared his throat and pretended to
begrudgingly
volunteer.”

~*~

“Time for a changing of the guard.”

Cassandra turned to her mother’s voice. “Huh?”

Mom gave her a nudge. “You go have some fun, now. I’ll take over here for a while.”

A warm hand fell on her shoulder, coupled by the deep voice in her ear. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Mrs. Hessing.”

The shiver at Vince’s touch shut down at the animosity in her mother’s eyes. Mom looked away without a word.

“Okay, Mom. But I’ll be back in an hour.”

Mom narrowed her vision to include only Cassandra. “Take as long as you need.” She glanced at the pastor. “And try to make some
new
friends.”

Cassandra could feel the heaviness that fell over Vince at his touch on the small of her back as he led her away.

He spoke close enough she felt his breath on her face. “Are you ever going to answer my request?”

Cassandra glanced toward her mother. “Now’s not the time.”

His sigh was deep as he led her through the parking lot.

“Let me show you around.” The pressure of his hand at her back became firm, and a small glint shone from his eyes. “Our creation.” His gaze flitted toward Sophie, then swept the church lot filled with members of the community coming out for a day of fun. The fruitfulness seemed to fill the spot Cassandra’s mom had taken from him. “I’ve spoken to a few neighborhood attendees with special needs kids who are considering trying us out this Sunday.”

“Really?”

His smile grew. “Yes, really.” His brow twitched and his voice whispered, “Because of you.”

“Vince, this was your idea even before I got here.”

“But you made it happen. God put us together to finish it.”

That stole her breath.

“Mom, guess what?” Sophie bounded up, Sky strolling silently behind. “I just heard Lew’s giving hay rides with the tractor. Tibo’s gonna love that.”

Cassandra gasped, realizing he wasn’t with her mother or with Sophie. “Where is Tibo?”

“I thought Grandma had him.”

“No, she’s at the ticket booth.” Her pulse raced as her head swiveled in every direction. Where was he?

They all scanned the parking lot. Mothers and fathers strolled from booth to booth, children in tow, laughing as though they had not a care in the world. No Tibo anywhere.

Could he have wandered into the church building? Cassandra turned that way, with a spark of hope wanting to take hold. Maybe he had gone to the bathroom.

Sky ran to a small hill and searched from a position of height. He looked desperate in his attempt, then excited as his gaze lit on something. He pointed. “There he is.”

The relief was fierce as Cassandra turned to where Sky pointed. Lew’s tractor, dragging a hay and child-filled trailer, rounded a bend displaying a blond boy sitting in the front with Lew, hands on the steering wheel. Tibo’s joy was unmistakable as he bounced on the seat and threw back his head with laughter. Lew wore a grin the biggest Cassandra had ever seen. She almost cried with relief.

~*~

“Thank you, Lew.”

Lew pivoted to the voice as he turned off the engine. Tibo’s mom.

Her eyes shone. “He really enjoyed that.” She looked at the kid. “Come on, Tibo.” Then gestured for him to climb down from the seat. He followed her direction.

“Tibo can stay.” Didn’t she see how much fun he was having?

“I think you’ve spoiled him enough.” She smiled to her son who was still bouncing with excitement.

“Let me take him one more time.” Why did he feel so alone suddenly?

Cassandra chuckled. “He’s ridden five times around with you since I’ve been watching. You don’t need to babysit him anymore. I still can’t believe my mother did that to you.”

“She didn’t make me. I asked.” Did she really think it was that Greta woman’s idea?

“Oh.” She looked incredulous. “Still, I’m gonna take him around to some other games for a while, but I promise I’ll bring him back.”

Lew scoffed. What would she do? Have the boy’s face painted like a puppy? Couldn’t she see all he wanted to do was ride? Lew could relate.

A shrill scream pierced the air. Lew swung his head to find Isabella, from Kat’s shop, trying to calm her six-year-old who was flapping his arms and wailing.

Cassandra tugged Tibo toward the two, then knelt eye-level with the boy. “Hi, Sean.”

His wails turned to whimpers as he seemed to take her in sideways.

Isabella stood silent. Tears trapped in her eyes—Lew could almost feel them. He studied the way Cassandra handled the boy, using a soft voice, like she tested what might upset him … or interest him.

Hmmm.

“Would you like to go on a hay ride?” Cassandra showed him the big trailer filled with bales.

He turned his head looking from the corners of his eyes. His lips straightened from their downward turn and he bounced, whimpers almost turning into a tune.

Lew decided to join them. “How ‘bout he ride with me up front?”

“Oh no.” Isabella’s Hispanic accent thickened. “He’d never stay still. He’d fall for sure.”

“I’ll take it real slow, and hold tight to the boy.”

Cassandra turned to Lew, a smile growing on her lips. “Let him try, Isabella. You could follow them just in case.”

Isabella looked between them.

Lew nodded. “I won’t go faster than you can walk, and we’ll just keep circling around. I bet he’ll like it.”

Her shoulders rose and fell. “Okay.”

Sean had pulled out of her grip and headed for the tractor before Lew even registered her agreement. “Whoa, little one. Wait for me.”

As he cranked the engine, the little boy in his arms shook. Lew feared he was having a seizure until the kid let out a joyous squeal. The other riders piled into the trailer, and Lew took another round through the parking lot. Sean felt stiff in his arms, very different from little Tibo, but Lew knew the grunts the boy made were his version of happiness.

Lew glanced to Isabella as she followed them, her face rigid with fear, softening as they slowed to stop. Sean bounced and patted the steering wheel, his straight lips twitching upward.

“Again?” Lew regretted asking out loud, realizing his mother didn’t look too thrilled.

She thrust her fists on her hips and gave a reluctant nod.

He mouthed the next words over Sean’s head. “You can stay here. We’ll be fine.”

Her shoulders tensed as though fighting the answer before she nodded again. Lew smiled. Small victory. Not just for Sean, but for Isabella.

Something about it felt really,
really
good.

~*~

“So what’s next?”

Sophie wilted at the playful look in Sky’s eyes. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”

With his thumb, he touched the flower painted on her cheek. “The purple makes the blue in your eyes stand out.”

Oh boy, those willies could immobilize her. His smile turned serious as he dropped his hand from her face. His hot and cold behavior had made her crazy all day, and she couldn’t always blame it on the appearance of Pastor Vince.

She checked her watch. “Pastor Vince won’t be in the dunk tank for another twenty minutes.”

He looked at his flip-flops. “I don’t hate your Pastor, Soph. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to dunk him if I want to get on his good side.”

She laughed at the image. “Then what do you want to do?”

“Let’s take a break for a while.” He scanned around. “Maybe a little time by ourselves.”

She couldn’t help the fear that probably reached her eyes. Not so much of him as it was her response to him.

“Sophie, we won’t go too far.” He held his hands up. “I won’t even touch you.”

The look in his expression stung her. He must think she didn’t trust him anymore since he’d pushed her limits of temptation that night at the youth group.

He tilted his head, his expression somber. “C’mon Soph.” He toed a pebble on the asphalt, and nodded toward an isolated hill. “How ‘bout you sit over there. I’ll get us some sodas, and we can relax.”

“Okay.” Sophie watched him head to the concessions before she climbed the grass. She found a little place in the shade on the other side of some trees. The quiet, away from the crowds was nice.

Sky appeared with the drinks then handed her one. “Wait.” He looked between the two cups. “I think this one’s yours.”

She laughed. “Aren’t they both Colas?”

“Yeah, but I already drank out of one. Don’t want you gettin’ my spit.” His smile made her giggle.

Sophie sucked long and hard through the straw, letting the drink cool her from the inside out. She hadn’t realized how sweltering it was until just now. They’d been having so much fun, playing the games, watching Tibo on the tractor, and just laughing together. For some reason, she thought Sky needed something to pull him from darker thoughts. If only she knew what seemed to bug him all day long.