Rain Gods (Hackberry Holland 2)

?It is, isn?t it?? she said, crossing her leg on her knee, her mouth jerking as though she wanted to smile. She watched Preacher?s face in the white glow of the television screen. His eyes never blinked; not one muscle in his face moved. Her own expression went dead.

?I have clients that become friends,? she said. ?After they?re friends, they?re not clients again. Then I have friends that are always friends. They never become clients. They?re friends from the first time I meet them, know what I mean??

?No, I don?t,? he replied.

?I can be a friend to somebody. I have to make a living, but I believe in having friends and helping them out.? She lowered her eyes. ?I mean, we could be friends if you want.?

?You remind me of someone,? he said, looking at her directly for the first time.

?Who?? she asked, the word turning to a rusty clot in her throat.

He stared at her in a way no one had ever stared at her in her life. She felt the blood drain from her head and heart into her stomach.

?Somebody who never should have been allowed around small children,? he said. ?Do you have children??

?I did. A little boy. But he died.?

?It?s better that some people don?t live. They should be taken before their souls are forfeit. That means some of us have to help them in ways they don?t like, in ways that seem truly awful at the time.? Preacher reached out into the darkness and pulled a straight chair closer to him. On it were his wallet, a small automatic, an extra magazine, and a barber?s razor.

?Sir, what are you planning to do?? she said.

?You understood what I said.? He smiled. His statement was not a question but a compliment.

?Liam wanted to party. He had the check. I went with him.? Her breath was tangling in her chest, the room starting to go out of focus. ?I have a mother in Amarillo. My son is buried in the Baptist cemetery there. I was gonna call her today. She?s hard of hearing, but if I shout, she knows it?s me. She?s seventy-nine and cain?t see real good, either. We still talk to each other. She doesn?t know what I do for a living.?

Preacher was holding something in his hand, but she couldn?t bring herself to look at it. She went on, ?If you let me walk out the door, you?ll never see me again. I?ll never tell anyone what we talked about. I?ll never see Liam again, either.?

?I know you won?t,? he said in an almost kindly fashion.

?Please, sir, don?t.?

?Come closer.?

?I don?t want to.?

?You need to, Mona. We don?t choose the moment of our births or the hour of our deaths. There are few junctures in life when we actually make decisions that mean anything. The real challenge is in accepting our fate.?

?Please,? she said. ?Please, please, please.?

?Get on your knees if you want. It?s all right. But don?t beg. No matter what else you do in this world, don?t beg.?

?Not in the face, sir. Please.?

She was on her knees, her eyes welling with tears. She felt his hand grasp hers and lift her arm into the air, turning up the paleness of her wrist and the green veins in it. The static-filled storm on the television screen seemed to invade her head and blind her eyes and pierce her eardrums. Her fingernails bit into her palm. She had heard stories of people who did it in a warm bathtub and supposedly felt no pain and just went to sleep as the water turned red around them. She wondered if it would be like that. Then she felt his thumb dig into her palm and peel back her fingers.

?What are you doing?? she said.

?You go into the brightness of the sun. You go inside its whiteness and let it consume you, and when you come out on the other side, you?ve become pure spirit and you never have to be afraid again.?

She tried to pull her hand from his, but he held on to it.

?Did you hear me?? he said.

?Yes, sir,? she said.

He placed five hundred-dollar bills across her palm and folded her fingers on them. ?The Greyhound for Los Angeles leaves in the morning. In no time you?ll be in Albuquerque, and you?ll see what I mean. You?ll go west into the sun across a beautiful countryside, a place that?s just like the world was on the day Yahweh created light. The person you were when you walked into this room won?t exist anymore.?

When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she lost a shoe. But she did not stop to pick it up.