“Get these people outta here,” answered the man with the badge. “Ain’t gonna be no revival tonight. Sorry, folks, everybody needs to go home.”

“But what’s wrong?” said a woman in the back seat.

“Sheriff’s business, ma’am. Now, everyone just go on home.” The badge smacked the van door and said, “Take these people home, boys.”

“Is someone hurt, Sheriff?” Helen shouted.

The officer looked inside and said, “Helen Burlington? What in the world are you doing here?”

“What happened?” said one of the teenage boys.

“There’s been an accident, folks. A man was shot. We need this area cleared so we can get back to work. Now don’t make me tell you twice.”

Without warning, Marigold’s hands became hot. She looked at them; they were bright red, almost like she’d been burned. She glanced out the window but couldn’t see through the crowd of people.

“Sheriff,” said Helen. “I think we can help.”

The sheriff seemed annoyed by this. He leaned into the window. “You?”

“That’s right, us.”

The sheriff smirked. “Thank you, Helen, but these men don’t need that kind of help. Right now I just need this place emptied.” His voice was getting louder.

“Hey,” said Rachel. “She was only trying to help.”

Marigold stared out her window and saw a break in the crowd of onlookers. She saw a young man kneeling on the ground. Someone was hurt. She could tell that much. She looked at her hands. The skin had become so white that she could see the veins and arteries showing through. She flung open the door beside her. She kicked off her shoes and stomped through the field toward the group of people.

The sheriff turned to see her leave. “Miss!” he shouted. “Get back here!”

“Wait!” said Rachel, who had already leapt from the vehicle. “Wait, Marigold!”

Marigold turned to see Rachel, Laughing Girl, and Helen leaping from the van. They trotted through the mud in their heels.

“Marigold!” said Helen. “Wait!”

“Helen!” said the sheriff. “Get back here, I said!”

“The sheriff looks mad,” said Laughing Girl.

“Let him be mad,” said Helen. “He was never mad until his wife found out about us.”

“Helen!” the sheriff shouted again. “I said get back here!”

“You and the sheriff?” said Laughing Girl. “Really?”

“I was young. He was stupid. Besides, he’s gained a lotta weight since then.”

The girls laughed.

Marigold ran toward the scene of the accident. She shoved her way through the huddled masses.

Helen ran behind her, holding Abe by the hand. Laughing Girl ran as well, pausing to spin on her heel and stick her tongue out at the sheriff.

Rachel turned and yelled, “Helen thinks you’re fat!”

Seventy-Four
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