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had something to do from the time Ma left in the morning for work to when she came back at night and Alice Jane and me cooked her dinner. I could tell she was worried about us on our own, but I told her, “We’re not babies anymore. We can watch out for each other.” Her hand that held the cigarette shook a little, and Alice patted her back soft like Ma did for us at night as we went to sleep.
    The summers were fine for fishing, fist fights, shooting guns, drinking pop, catching snakes, swimming the creek, riding bikes, playing baseball, bottling lightning bugs, and watching the big moon rise. When on Sundays the minister spoke of Paradise, all I had to compare it to was summer vacation.
    Then on a bright morning in late July, the three of us were out early, and Alice Jane and I decided we would find the day’s adventure by just letting Pretty Please run up ahead of our bikes. We followed him wherever he went. It didn’t make any sense, and we all laughed, even Pretty, when he ran ten times in the same tight circle. We wound up traveling all the way to the edge of town to the red brick arches of the entrance to the church’s side garden. We went there a couple times a week in the early morning. There was a fountain and a bench within those walls. Tears issued from the eyes of a sculpted woman. The water trickled down, plashing from level to level quieter than a whisper. The aroma of the roses was almost too much.
    One bright morning, following that scent without hesitation, Pretty walked right in there. Alice Jane and I left our bikes on the sidewalk and followed. We found him standing still as a store manikin, staring up at Minister Sauter, who stood over him looking annoyed. When the preacher saw us enter the garden, his expression quickly changed to a smile. He took a seat on a bench by the fountain and motioned for us to sit down as well. We did. Alice and I were on either side of the minister, and Pretty, watching ripples in the water, slumped on the bench next to his sister.
    Sauter said, “How’d you kids like to make some money?”
    “Whata we gotta do?” asked Alice.
    “Well, I want you to ride out to the woods beneath the mountain and find that old woman Oftshaw’s house.”
    “Pardon,” I said, “but she’s an old witch, ain’t she? My ma says she’s got spells.”
    Alice smacked herself in the forehead for my ignorance.
    The minister laughed. “The old lady’s a Christian, I think,” he said.
    “How much money?” asked Alice.
    “Let’s see,” said Sauter. “I want you to go out there and I want you to watch what she does. I want you to remember it and then come back and tell me.”
    “Easy,” said Alice Jane. I nodded. Pretty Please said, “Pretty please.”
    “One thing, though,” said the minister. “You can’t let her see you watchin’ her.”
    “That’s spying,” said Alice.
    “It would be,” said Sauter, “but I’m gonna make you all deputy angels before you go. As a deputy angel, you can do my bidding and not get in trouble with the law or God. The Lord has put his trust in me, and so must you.”
    “I don’t want to go to heaven,” I said.
    “Do you want to make twenty cents?” asked Alice.
    We took the oath, and then Alice Jane took it again once for Pretty. I kept messing up the words, and at one point the minister put his hand at the base of my throat to steady me, but in the moment I wasn’t sure he didn’t intend to strangle me. As soon as we were deputy angels, he shooed us out of the garden. As we mounted our bikes, he whispered to us from the entrance, “Report to me tomorrow at this time. Tell no one. The devil is listening.”
    Mention of the devil scared us, and we rode silently and with great determination straight north toward Chary Mountain. Pretty Please ran ahead along the side of the empty road, never tiring. That morning the dew had covered everything, made everything glimmer. The sky was deep blue, and there were just white wisps but no