Preacher Fakes a Miracle

1. Loretta’s Trailer

Loretta’s Trailer

The Previous Friday Morning

Melissa hoped her sister wouldn’t be pissed about her showing up unannounced. But they never stayed mad at each other for very long. All they’d ever had was each other. During the last year, they’d been out of touch for weeks at a time, sometimes months. But when Loretta had moved into this trailer, she’d mailed Melissa her spare key.

It was like an engraved invitation, after all.

The place hadn’t been hard to find, even though they were riding in the dark. Loretta had sent her a link on Google Maps, and she’d made Keith stop several times so she could check her phone. The service was spotty out here but not impossible, and the GPS tracked their route. Now she was thankful that the jolting ride on the back of the guy’s bike was finally over. Keith was a stranger to her, just some dude who’d plucked her off the side of the road, and she hoped she was done with him. As she hopped off, baby Buzz was wailing in her ear. But she took the trouble to wet her lips and flash the guy a grin and a wink before she turned to go inside, and he sped off.

She was glad to be rid of his rank smell. Maybe she should jump in the shower.

There was no porch light on the trailer, and now that she didn’t have the bike headlight to guide her, she had to juggle Buzz as she fished the key from the pocket of her jeans and used the flashlight on her phone to find the lock in the door handle. The place was dark inside, no one was home, and the air felt close and musty. Melissa didn’t bother to open a window. She was exhausted, and so was Buzz. The young mother found a blanket, and they were both out cold on the couch as soon as they lay down.

Loretta had gone off shift at two in the morning, and she was usually home before three. Today, she didn’t arrive until half-past five. She’d wanted an apartment over at the marina complex, but Mick Heston, her manager at the club, had said whatever she could afford over here where the rents were lower would have to do for now. (Considering her failed relationship with Mick, she was grateful he bothered to help her at all.) Hence the dinky mobile home. At least she had use of the car and a gas card. She told her coworkers that the Appleton City-Rockville area wasn’t sleepy — it was comatose. But the commute was just a half-hour’s drive east on State Highway B, which was not bad at all unless you got behind one of those enormous double-decker livestock trailers that chugged along at twenty below the limit and stank of manure.

She’d have to ask her landlord, Mr. Zed, for a porch light. (She wasn’t sure whether he could be trusted, but so far, he hadn’t tried anything.) As she let herself in, she gasped as she saw a figure writhing under a blanket on the day bed she used as a couch.

Then the baby started to cry, and Loretta’s sister tossed the blanket off as she sat up and rocked her two-month-old son in her arms.

Loretta wasn’t upset to see Melissa, but she was startled that the girl and her baby had shown up without warning.

Setting her purse and keys on the dinette, she demanded, “What’s going on?”

“Sisters of Mercy sucks,” Melissa muttered sullenly as she yawned. “You wouldn’t want to keep your dog there.”

“I don’t have a dog,” Loretta huffed, hoping she sounded insistent enough to discourage the idea forever.

But Melissa brightened and giggled. “There’s an idea! Now that you got this place, maybe we should get one!”

“We?” Loretta realized the answer would likely involve an argument, so she simply asked, “How’d you get here?”

“Ugh, a motorbike. Guy named Keith. Friend of a friend. I didn’t have to pay him, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he shows back up and, you know, expects something.”

“What did you promise him?”

“Nothing in particular,” the girl replied with a shrug. “I can’t help it if a guy uses his imagination.”

Loretta rolled her eyes. Melissa was too pretty for her own good. At least Loretta knew how to turn the gifts nature gave her into a livelihood.

The baby started to cry again.

Melissa added, “Kind of a bumpy ride. Not the best thing for Buzzbomb here. Soft little skulls? He’s been upset with us moving around and all.”

“Buzz bomb?”

“Lighten up! The kid’s a poop factory. So some things broke your way, and they didn’t for me. You know you’re all I’ve got.”

Loretta ignored the familiar plea, saying, “When was the last time you fed him?”

“Still nursing,” she said, lifting her T-shirt. “I got plenty. I’m the one who could use a meal. And maybe a breast pump and some salve.”

Baby Buzz sucked on a breast and was instantly gratified.

“You can’t stay here,” Loretta said as she sat in one of the two chairs at the dinette and leaned forward in a gesture she hoped would signal both motherly love and worry.

Melissa looked up, her face screwed into a pout. “So why’d you give me the key?”

“For an emergency. You know, like for protection? Like if somebody hit on you?”

“Well, those nuns weren’t exactly beating me.” Then she mumbled, “But I’m not so sure they wouldn’t, and love doing it.”

“For one thing, you’ve got to go to school,” Loretta explained. “And there has to be someone to take care of Buzz when you’re in class. You both need to eat and someone to prepare nutritious meals. My shift in the evening starts at six. I get home at maybe three. When I get some overtime, like today, I’m still home before the sun is up. I have dinner or breakfast or whatever you’d call it in an hour or so, then I try to relax, watch a movie. I sleep from seven until three in the afternoon, maybe longer. I have to do all the shopping on my one day off. Now, you tell me, when am I going to have time to do whatever for you and Buzz, and just how is this going to work out?”

“Hey, no school. It’s summer!”

“So, you finished ninth grade?”

“As if! There’s all this paperwork to get things the way we want. You’ll figure it out. You’re good with numbers and money.”

Loretta sighed. “Melissa, you’re still underage, and you guys need so much more than I can give you. Seriously.”

Melissa gave hungry Buzz the other breast, looked up, and smiled sweetly. “Why don’t you make us both some eggs, and I’ll do the dishes?”

Outside, surveying the house from his jogging path, Evan was just deciding not to knock on their door.

If only he had.