“Wait a minute,” Marshall stopped me, “you’re telling me Andy’s sleeping with the preacher?”

“If she ain’t sleeping with him, then she’s thinking ’bout it.”

“Good God.”

“You’re surprised?” I asked. “Look at all this money, Marshall. This seem like something honest a preacher’d be into? I bet Andy’s not the only girl in the church he’s sleeping with either.”

Marshall turned his attention to the door. We heard voices outside, and one carried over all the rest. The person spoke with a musical quality making their voice ring as if a large crowd clung to every word. I guessed it was Randy Jessup. Only preachers and politicians speak that way regardless of how many ears are listening. He made a joke which got everybody laughing and then told them to open the door.

Marshall cinched his belt tight, left the cabinets for the door, and said, “Let’s raise hell, Coy.”

7.

I didn’t have no idea what my brother planned. Following each other’s lead had us in a situation where we’d hopped from one damn hole to another. I nodded at Marshall and tightened my belt around my waist.

Marshall walked to the front of the storm shelter, and when they opened the door, a tall man looked down on him. The man wore a black suit that fit tight like it’d got bought with someone else’s money. He carried a black Bible with worn leather and faded golden-edged pages. An eye patch covered his left eye with a snow-white dove printed on the front of it. His mouth curled back into a snarl and his good eye danced between the two of us. A pair of big men bookended the preacher. I recognized the brothers from high school but hadn’t kept up with either since.

They ran in the same group as Andy and me and were a couple of cans short of a six-pack. If they were with the preacher, it didn’t mean anything good for us. They’d spent more time suspended from school for fighting than in the classroom.

Marshall put his hands out to the side like he was inviting the preacher in for a hug and said, “Brother Jessup, sure is good to see you here.”

The preacher’s one eye flicked over to my brother, and when he spoke in that sing-song tone, he asked, “Excuse me, friend, but do I know you?”

Marshall dropped his hands back to his sides, and they thumped against the money stuffed into his pants pockets. “You mean our buddy Harper there didn’t make you aware of who we are?”

Harper stood off to the side with Andy. They both still carried their shotguns and looked a little concerned about Marshall’s question. The preacher turned to them and then back to my brother. That snarl still curled his upper lip. He said, “I asked Brother Harper not to influence my thoughts about y’all boys. That way, when the Lord speaks to me, I’ll hear him clearly.”

“That’s much appreciated then,” Marshall said. “Old Lew ain’t got shit good to say ’bout my brother back there.”