4.
“This is a go to hell free card, I know it.” Jerry was upset as he swiped the Bible from the motel room where his friend Trevor held the door open while keeping a lookout for anyone coming.
“Come on!” Trevor said with urgency. He was not the same young man that he had been. He no longer looked youthful and the skin of his face had dark spots and burns at his lips. Trevor’s life had changed drastically in a short time and after losing everything, he seemed to have given up trying. He started doing drugs and he was always scheming to make money for more drugs. He met his friend Jerry out on a corner one night both were trying to convince their dealer to front them drugs until they had the money. They were both denied and they decided to work together to ensure that they could always maintain a high. They’d tried stealing things, but they didn’t have a gun and Jerry was badly beaten when the two tried to mug a jogger in a local park. Technically, they were stealing from the motel, but they new a housekeeper who worked there and she gave them a heads up when they could easily sneak into rooms. Trevor and Jerry shared their bounty with their housekeeper friend after they had either sold or traded the things they stole. They’d taken towels and bed sheets and they would loiter around flea markets in walking distance of their favorite corner for buying drugs to sell their wares.
When Jerry shuffled out of the motel room with the nightstand Bible in his hand, he and Trevor put it in their growing bag of bibles that they had swiped from other rooms. Their housekeeper friend had told them that they couldn’t steal anything good anymore because her boss was getting close to shelling out the money to repair the surveillance cameras that hung around the motel just for show by that point. Trevor hatched the nightstand Bible plan as a result of that limitation.
After the two had gathered about 30 of the bibles, they made their way to the small downtown area. Trevor had lived in Charlotte, NC, but after losing everything, he found his way to Rock Hill, SC by complete accident; he’d actually woken up at the home of someone he didn’t know very well who lived in the city and Trevor never left.
In front of the used bookstore in downtown, Trevor and Jerry set up a table that they had swiped from a yard sale. They stacked the bibles in high piles and they did their best to groom themselves and to look as professional and trustworthy as possible. Trevor attached a sign to the front of the table that said “Word of God Ministries”. People passed them on the street and Trevor called out politely to those who came close.
“Support homeless rehabilitation?” He offered and when someone would stop, he would explain that “Word of God Ministries [was] taking men off the street and helping them find jobs and housing.” Trevor wasn’t selling the bibles. He would give them away when people made donations to his fake ministry after he had given them his saddest redemption story with the hopes of wringing every last cent out of the sympathetic. And the two made good money that day, making up origin stories about how they became homeless. Trevor knew that people were sympathetic to soldiers and he told a story about how he and Jerry were veterans of Iraq who were discharged and struggling with trauma from their deployment.
“Without good psychological services, this is what the American people can expect for their soldiers when they come home, homelessness.” Trevor explained solemnly to a man who stopped at their table and saluted them after hearing the story. The man gave Trevor a fifty dollar bill and apologized that he couldn’t do more.
By the time their bibles were gone, Trevor and Jerry were folding their table when Trevor noticed a familiar face coming out of a nearby barbershop. It was a man named Pete that he remembered from his childhood when his family lived in Monroe, NC. He’d had a crush on his sister Freda even though she was older than him and hardly gave him the time of day. Trevor smiled watching Pete walk to his fancy car that was parked on the curb; it was obvious that the man had done well for himself and suddenly Trevor felt a pang of regret that everything he’d had was taken from him and his life had spiraled the way that it had. When Pete shot a glance in his direction before getting into the car, Trevor tried to turn his head, afraid that the man would recognize him and see him at rock bottom.
“Trev? Is that you?” He asked and Trevor cursed to himself under his breath as Pete made his way over. “You live down here now?” He asked when he was close and after the two shook hands.
“I’m all around,” he said, not looking Pete in the eyes. “What you doing down this way? How’s Freda?”
“She’s alright. I was just in town for my Aunt Doris’s funeral. I’m headed to her house now. My family’s there one last time before they sell it.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Trevor said, pursing his lips and feeling sorry. He knew Ms. Doris owned the print shop in town but he did not know her very well. He had seen her car though and he knew that she lived on the nicest street in town.
“Yeah…” Pete started before he was interrupted by a phone call that he excused himself to take. He stepped away and Trevor could hear both sides of the conversation. It wasn’t long before he knew where he and Jerry would get their next payday.
***
Esther rolls the leg of Violette’s pants down gingerly over the crudely covered wound that runs the length of her shin. When she stands, Violette grimaces but doesn’t make a sound. She has a look on her face, angry and resolute, that scares Esther a little.
Can we go? Violette doesn’t look at Esther.
Can you walk?
Let’s go, we don’t have all night.
Esther sighs and follows Violette across the empty floor of the abandoned mill where Violette had injured her leg when a step on the stairwell had given out under her. Violette pushes the pain in her leg out of her mind and forcefully swings open the door to the cool night outside. Both Esther and Violette startle at the sight outside the door.
Where is it?
Freda is there, aiming two guns, one in each hand, at the shocked women.
I know you know where it is. Just tell me and I’ll walk away.
Esther and Violette look at one another. Their looks of panic give way to smiles, and then to chuckles before both are laughing hysterically.
What’s funny? Freda yells in frustration.
You…you…Violette is trying her best to contain her laughter. She collects herself after Freda yells again.
Stop laughing! Where is it?
You have to excuse us, we’ve been running for a while and I have a nasty cut on my leg, and I’m pretty sure there’s some guys with guns a lot bigger than yours following us. Seeing you with that tiny little gun is just funny. And if you think we went through all of that just to give away all that money, then you must be trying to make me laugh.
***
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