Jessie hissed, “I can get it, sir, I can get it.”

“Get what?”

“Your thousand forty dollars, sir.”

The Deacon widened his eyes at Smoke and Dandy and all three of them chuckled at the same time and stopped chuckling just as fast.

“You don’t understand, dope ho’, do you? The only reason you alive is because, in my beneficence, I kindly decided to call what you took a loan. I loaned you the thousand forty. You didn’t steal it. If I was to have decided you stole it, that knife be in your throat right now and your dick be in your mouth. So say it.”

“Say what, sir?”

“Say it was a loan.”

“It was a loan, sir.”

“Indeed,” the Deacon said. “So, as to the terms of that loan, let me enlighten you. Smoke, what we charge a week for vig?”

Luther felt his head spin and he swallowed hard to keep his vomit down.

“Five percent,” Smoke said.

“Five percent,” the Deacon told Jessie. “Compounded weekly.”

Jessie’s eyes, which had gone hooded with the pain, snapped open.

“What’s the weekly vig on a thousand forty?” the Deacon said.

Smoke said, “I believe it work out to fifty-two dollars, Deacon, sir.”

“Fifty-two dollars,” the Deacon said slowly. “Don’t sound like much.”

“No, Deacon, sir, it don’t.”

The Deacon stroked his chin. “But shit, wait, what’s that per month?”

“Two hundred eight, sir,” Dandy chimed in.

The Deacon showed his real smile, a tiny one, having himself a time now. “Per year?”

“Two thousand four hundred ninety-six,” Smoke said.

“And doubled?”

“Ah,” Dandy said, sounding desperate to win the game, “that be, um, that be—”

“Four thousand nine hundred ninety-two,” Luther said, not even sure he was speaking or why until the words left his mouth.

Dandy slapped the back of his head. “I had it, nigger.”

The Deacon turned his full gaze on Luther and Luther saw his grave in there, could hear the shovels in the dirt.

“You ain’t dumb at all, Country. I knew that first time I saw you. Knew the only way you’d get dumb is hanging around fools like this one bleeding all over my table. It was my mistake to allow your fraternization with said Negro, and that’s to my everlasting regret.” He sighed and stretched his great bulk in his chair. “But it’s all spilt milk now. So that four thousand nine hundred ninety-two added to the original loan come out to…?” He held up a hand to stop anyone else from answering and pointed at Luther.

“Six thousand thirty-two.”

The Deacon slapped the table. “It do. Dang. And before ya’ll think I’m a merciless man, ya’ll need to understand that even in this, I was more than kind because ya’ll need to consider what you’d owe if, like Dandy and Smoke suggested, I’d added the vig into the principal every week as I did my computations. You see?”

No one said anything.

“I said,” the Deacon said, “do you see?”