‘I remember.’ Vernon coughed. ‘I remember him everywhere. I remember his eyes. One of ’em looking right at me. The other blown out. His blood looked like mud, didn’t it? Like he bled dirt. But that one eye of his was centred right on me, right in here.’ Vernon tapped the bridge of his nose. ‘Whatever little faith I had up to that point was gone the instant that eye of his swivelled onto me. Nothing there. Not looking at anything. Just a sack of dead meat.’

Vernon looked at his friend, who was frowning at him from the pulpit. Kelly shut his journal and walked down the carpeted steps. He sat himself on the pew directly beside Vernon.

‘I know you don’t think so, I doubt it myself most of the time, but there is goodness in this world.’

Vernon almost laughed. ‘Yeah?’

‘I know your car crash––what happened––and your boy, makes it seem like there isn’t, but there is. I see it everywhere. You just have to know how to look for it.’

‘You know better than to preach to me. No,’ he said, and shook his head. ‘The older I get, the more certain I am. There’s no such thing as goodness. Weymouth had it right. There’s just indifference. Rubbish things happen to all types. Doesn’t matter if you’re good, or bad. Same evil happens. That’s all it is.’

‘You go and see your boy?’

Vernon nodded.

‘How was he?’

‘He was pretty bad.’

‘He tell you what happened?’

‘You knew how?’

Kelly nodded. ‘Didn’t think it was my place to pass it on.’

‘He told me a bit. So you can guess what I’m going to do.’

‘I have an idea.’

‘You going to stop me?’

Kelly regarded him and his stare was such it made Vernon turn aside. ‘I don’t think I could. But I would say this. Don’t be doing anything you’ll regret later on, you understand? Like what I think you’re going to do. Just go up and talk to them.’

‘That’s all I plan on doing. If I can find them.’

Kelly sat back, arms up behind his head. ‘Guess I don’t know where they live exactly either.’

‘No, they’ve kept that decently hidden. I know where at least one of them will be tonight, though. But we’ll just talk about it, like you said.’

‘And that’s it?’

‘That’s it.’

Kelly smiled and said, ‘Lying in a church is probably worse than swearing.’

‘Well. Same goes as before.’

‘Yeah. Alright,’ Kelly said, and stood. ‘Do you need me?’

‘Would you come?’

‘You know I’d be there if you needed me.’

‘Yeah. I guess I know that.’

‘You come tell me if you need me.’ He ascended his pulpit once more. Reopened his journal. He said with a sigh, ‘Weymouth’s real point about goodness was that it was always selfish. There’s always something else motivating what on the surface might look like a kind act. But I don’t think the motivation nullifies the action. That’s what I should have said. You can quantify an act regardless of the motivation. Good is good and bad is bad outside of why.’