I use the only weapon I have, touching the burning will to my father’s shoulder and lighting his shirt. He jumps back in horror, trying to extinguish the fire, but it spreads across his back where he can’t reach. My mother leaps at him, striking the flames. I clutch my aching throat and suck in air. “Good riddance,” I whisper, and my desperate father meets my eyes.
I let go of the will.
“No,” he screams, and dives over the balustrade.
His heels leave the floor. For a single, suspended moment, I watch as my father realizes he’s leapt too high, too far, and his muscles seize, as if he can claw back his momentum. No miracle intervenes. His untethered body tumbles after the will. He lands facedown with a crack on the stage. The smoking remains of the will rest by his outstretched hand.
My mother’s scream rends the air.
I stare at his unmoving body. In the paralysis of shock, I feel no panic. Only numbness. “Now we know,” I whisper.
My mother sobs, clutching the bars of the balustrade. I unpeel her fingers and lift her, dragging her limp, despondent body down the stairs and through the towering arch of fire.
We walk out the double doors of the church with raw, burned skin, her pale hair smoking, my white dress gray with ash. My mother wrestles out of my arms the instant we hit cool air and falls to her knees in the grass. Behind us, a fiery beam falls and crashes. Holy Fire Born Again is coming down. The flames are climbing to the roof, reaching for that glorious, needle-tipped spire.
Be good,he always said.And be spared the lake of fire.
I walk away and let it burn.
48
NOW
The tree-ringed highway is quiet as a tomb as I wait in the dark. Everett was supposed to be here by now. There are a million things that could’ve gone wrong. I’m willing myself not to think about them, not to imagine the sheriff or Barry catching ahold of Ever. As if refusing to admit the possibility can somehow keep it from happening.
Tires squeal. Headlights appear through the trees. Suddenly a convertible charges out of the woods, kicking up dust and swerving onto the highway.
I leap to my feet, heart swelling, as it skids to a stop on the side of the road. Everett, hair slicked back with sweat, grins at me from the driver’s seat. “Thank God,” we both say. I choke back a laugh as I climb into the passenger side.
The minute I slam the door, Ever jams the gas and guns down the road.
“It worked,” I yell over the wind, giddy with the thrill of victory. “You escaped.”
He twines his fingers between mine over the gearshift, one hand on the wheel. “They stopped chasing me to run back to the church.” He eyes me, an incredulous laugh bubbling. “I heard them shouting that it was burning down.”
Tall trees whip by. “He’s dead, Ever. His body’s in that fire.”
The look in his eyes as he squeezes my hand is tender. “I’m sorry. I really am. I know how you must feel.”
I’m probably the only person alive who would believe him. Wind lifts my hair. “He wasn’t who I hoped.” I close my eyes. “At least we’re getting out.”
“We’re gettingout,” Ever shouts, and his jubilance takes me by surprise, makes me laugh. He pulls my hand to his chest. “This is it, Ruth. My dream since we were seventeen.”
I bite my lip—then scream, at the top of my lungs, “We’re free!”
He reaches his fingers into my hair. “Tell me I can have you forever.”
I press my hand over his. “You’ll have me and I’ll have you.”
Nothing could’ve prepared me for the sudden joy of being unencumbered, without limits, speeding down the road. I lean my head against the headrest as we sail, taking in the inky sky, the diamond stars, the towering trees. Yes, my father is dead; yes, the church is burning; yes, we are criminals; but the world has never been so beautiful. I’ve never felt so at peace.
“We’re going to Texas,” Ever yells, his dark curls a halo in the wind. “No more Louisiana.”
Into the West. I drape my arm over the convertible door and let it surf the wind. “I’ll go to school.”
“And I’ll open a garage.” He kisses the back of my hand. “We’ll explore during the day and read at night and—”
“Be happy,” I finish.
