West Six #2
Watching him love Sarah, so purely, I realized he had never forgotten how his grandpa and grandma shared affection.
Still staring at me, he told Sarah, “What a pair we make. Both with fathers who tried to kill us. Both with fathers who succeeded with our mothers.”
If my heart didn’t insist on living to help my friends, my Misfits, I think it would’ve stopped beating that night.
I woke a couple of times during the night when Harmony checked on us. I’d give her a thumbs up, then she would sigh with relief before shutting the door again. Next thing I knew, when I woke again, I heard a happy giggle. “There’s bacon.”
The scent of bacon filled the bedroom and charged my hunger. “Harmony is setting me up for failure. How will I ever find a girl who cooks like her so I can marry her?”
Another giggle commenced as Sarah shot out of Ethan’s bed and raced from the room.
He and I sat up, looked at each other, then darted from our beds.
Sarah was after all the delicious bacon.
And she was going to get her fill because Ethan and I got our shoulders wedged in the doorway, fighting for breakfast.
Ethan shouted, “Sarah! You better save us some!”
“Get off me!” I tried to shove at Ethan, but my arms were stuck with my elbows bent, the width of my shoulders pinning me there like a challenged T-Rex. All I had that was working properly was a leg, and I used it to trip Finn as he ran past us, laughing.
Crash! Went the jock into a wall. “Asshole.”
I tried to get the next body darting past us, but the little fucker was quick. Seb jumped over Finn on the floor, then shot down the stairs. “Saraaaaah! Share!”
Just as Finn was finally getting off the floor, I sprang free from the tricky doorway and stepped on him. Oof! Complained the jock as he was flattened back to the floor.
It happened again as Ethan followed me.
Finn was going to shove a baseball bat up our asses. We knew this because that’s exactly what he yelled as we took two steps at a time.
I was thankful for the fun. For the grasp of lighter moments.
I loved how we all smiled at the end of breakfast when Ethan tried to enjoy his last piece of bacon until Sarah’s pout had him handing it over.
Of course, we all called him a pansy, but in secret, she had made it safely through the night. And even she felt a little lighter.
Tonight, we were going to a sad affair: the vigil. We needed all the strength we could muster.
It was growing dark. The sun had dropped low in the sky and now barely hovered above the horizon.
Soon the splotches of gold, red, and purple would disappear.
We all piled into Dale’s van and drove toward the outskirts of town.
The pastor’s church, due to Blue’s mother’s request, is where Blue was buried.
The van was quiet. All the Misfits were slightly ill to be returning.
Dale revealed the tension he held with his no-nonsense tone when he said, “There’s something about this preacher-slash-pastor that isn’t sitting well with me. You all need to stay away from him. Got it?”
The air in the van thickened like a deadly fog. “Got it,” we all mumbled.
Dale added, “My research has stumped me. Lots of questions. I’ve found claims from previous followers that report medical care is against the religion.”
That’s precisely what Johnny had told us.
Dale continued, “Some sort of independent Christian group, but now, in interviews, this pastor disputes those claims.”
Trying to cover his fucking tracks.
He exhaled, his heavy heart so evident. "So, tonight, we stick together and make this all about our Blue.”
It’s all about Blue, promise. And possibly a murder. -Shrug-
Passing the field before reaching the church, where Baby Blue had been found, was a monument of sorts. A wooden cross rose from the ground, surrounded by stuffed teddy bears and balloons.
I quickly looked away because I didn’t want to imagine how she looked when found, clinging to life. Seeing her in the hospital, after being tended to, was bad enough.
From the back seat, I reached to the seat in front of me and grabbed Seb’s shoulder. I gave it a loving ng shake, then directed his tense face from the passenger window to the windshield.
He gave a curt nod.
Pulling up to the church, it already looked so different from when we had attended Blue’s funeral.
Dale sounded beyond troubled. “Someone is already putting recent donations to use.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t seem right, if you’re asking me.”
There was brand new landscaping, and the church had recently been repainted white.
How appropriate, you dark fucker.
Beyond a newly paved parking lot, there was another memorial for Blue.
Flowers, cards, stuffed animals, and candles sat in piles around the lawn in front of the wide stone steps.
There was also a beautiful, large, framed picture of Blue.
My heart seized at her precious smile and those sweet purple glasses, but then it lit on fire when I noticed the pastor standing by the massive wooden doors at the entrance.
He waved at people as they approached, shaking hands, and acting like this wasn’t a fucking mockery.
How am I not going to kill him right in front of Dale and Harmony? I peered around the van. All Misfits’ eyes were locked on him like the Sinners we had become. How am I going to keep any of us from killing him? As soon as this pastor spewed false sorrow, he was as good as dead.
Sebastian’s hands were opening and closing as he contemplated going after him with his bare hands. Fuck the consequences.
Holy shit. This was a bad idea.
Once out of the parked van, Harmony took hold of Sarah’s hand as Dale led them through a crowd. That was a good thing because Sebastian, eyes locked on the pastor, had stopped moving.
Completely.
Finn whispered to Ethan and me, “He’s concrete.”
I got up behind Seb and said into his ear, “Remember what Dale said. Tonight is about Blue. That asshole’s time is coming.”
Ethan sounded sinister as fuck. “If you see tonight through, I’ll steal you that pic of her, brother.”
That did the trick. Seb’s feet began to move again. I’m glad because Dale was peering over the crowd and watching us like a hawk. When our eyes met, he looked at me like, What happened to sticking together?
I grimaced. Sorry?
Watching people enter the church, the outpouring of love felt bittersweet because people cared. They came here for Blue. Only she mattered tonight.
Candles were passed into our hands as we entered the building, standing near the side because there wasn’t any place left to sit. I spotted Dale sitting in a long row with Harmony and Sarah.
Both women were staring straight ahead, and I nearly jolted when I saw what caught their eyes.
It was a stunning original rendition of the portrait outside.
Whoever created this artwork had captured her in such a way that I would swear she had known her personally.
Not only was Blue represented as the adorable teenage girl she was, but this artist also captured the pain hidden in those sapphire eyes.
Blue’s expression held a smile that could own any heart; still, those who were blessed to have known her while she was alive could easily recognize how this artist revealed the angelic force that had always been within her.
Not including the angel wings now behind Blue, sheltering her from a life that had been far too cruel.
In the corner of my eye, I caught Seb’s finger rise and point. I watched him hold that stance as he looked to Ethan.
Ethan, his eyes watering, nodded, making it clear he understood that was the portrait to steal.
Was it robbing the artist? Possibly. Not that our broken hearts cared. Seb was going home with that perfection to guard. That’s how intensely we reacted when that fucking pastor took to the podium, blowing kisses to the painting.
As Seb took a step forward, Finn rested a firm hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Not the time.”
I thought it was going to work, but as soon as the pastor started speaking sickeningly sweet words about Blue—a girl in his community—and acting like she wasn’t his goddamn daughter, Finn corralled us through part of the crowd and out a side door that led into a hallway.
He then took our unlit candles and placed them on a ledge. “Breathe, Misfits.”
Did we all stop breathing? I think we had. And it was hard to change that fact.
In the hallway, not far from us, there was a woman sitting on a bench.
Her gaze seemed unfocused. If I hadn’t ever seen her on Blue’s phone, I never would have known who she was.
But staring at her now, in a baggy dress and smeared makeup, I could see the resemblance.
The petite frame and delicate features. Even the same pert nose and hair color.
But Blue’s mother… looked fucking high.
After all the promises to keep Blue safe and stay clean, this woman had lost the battle after her daughter’s death.
Observing all our locked stares, Finn now guided us from the hallway and into a nearby room. Grumbling, “I’m starting to think coming here was a mistake,” while shutting the door behind us. That is, until we saw a bunch of choir boys staring at us. “Uh… hi?”
Not even time to react further, the door reopened and a man squeezed past us. “More volunteers to be with the pastor?”
As if this man was serving us to the pastor on a perverted platter, we all recoiled. What the fuck?
“You’re late!” the man insisted, not shying from his irritation. Ushering robed boys out of the room, he handed us clothed hangers. “Hurry up! Don’t make him look bad!”
As the man whisked boys into a line in the hallway, Finn tried, “No, there’s been a mistake—”
“Put on the dress,” growled Seb.
Taking the ‘dress’ off the hanger, I corrected, “Technically, it’s a choir robe.”
“Whatever. Put it on.” Sebastian’s grin sent chills through my soul. “Don’t want to make the pastor look bad, do we?”
Oh shit.
Quickly dressing, I mumbled, “Dale is going to kill us.”