Read Online The Night Before by David Fulmer - Free Book Online Page A

Eve.”
    The two turned away and ambled off in childlike silence.
    â€œAnd go to church on Sunday,” Reverend Callum called out as they crossed the street and climbed into the Chevy. “You two shame your mothers.” The car coughed to a start and rattled and smoked down the avenue. The reverend fixed an eye on Joe. “Are you all right, sir?”
    Joe, still three moves behind, stared at the reverend, who now stepped up to extend a hand.
    â€œI’m Franklin Callum,” he said. “Reverend.” He steadied Joe’s grip in his own. “It’s all right. They’re gone. You’re lucky they weren’t like some of these others.”
    Joe looked over the reverend’s shoulder. He could make out the arc of hand-painted scroll on the side of the van: “The Light of the World” with “Tabernacle” printed in sturdy block letters beneath it.
    Reverend Callum said, “What’s your name, sir?”
    â€œJoe. Kelly.”
    â€œWhat are you doing out here? You lost?”
    â€œI was…” Joe found his mouth still dry and his stomach churning. “Walking,” he said and pointed east. “Downtown.”
    â€œThat’s quite a walk.” Reverend Callum peered at Joe with polite interest. “There somewhere I can carry you?”
    Joe was befuddled. “I don’t know,” he said.
    The reverend bent down to retrieve the knife. With a sigh of regret, he folded the blade and tucked it away. Then he looked at Joe and said, “Well, come on. We can at least get you off this here street.”
    Slouching in the welcome heat, Joe replayed the mugging in his head. He had gone into a mild state of shock and the reality of the incident was just dawning. It was odd that he hadn’t been afraid. In fact, he’d flipped out a little and then got weird. He thought about the looks on the kids’ faces when he went off about Mariel and snickered to himself.
    The man behind the wheel glanced his way. “You sure you’ all right?” he said.
    â€œI’m okay.” Joe undid the top button of his coat. “What are you doing out tonight,
    Reverend?”
    â€œI run a service out of my church for homeless folks and transients,” the reverend said. “Find them a place to stay. At shelters and so forth. I’m on my way back from carrying two gentlemen to St. Mark’s.
    â€œYou don’t get to be with your family?”
    The reverend’s smile moved away. “So happens I don’t have any family here,” he said. “The church, my congregation, that’s my family.” They sat in silence for a moment. “And what about you, sir?”
    â€œI live on Crescent Drive. It’s up by the college. I have a wife and two kids. And…” And what?
    â€œCrescent Drive?” Reverend Callum said. “Afraid I can’t drive you there right this minute. If that’s where you’ wanting to go, I mean. I got to get back to the church.”
    â€œI guess I can call a cab.”
    â€œCab might take you awhile tonight,” the reverend said. “That’s all right,” Joe said.
    â€œYou’re welcome to ride in with me. Get wherever you’re going from there.” Joe thought for a moment. “I don’t know where I’m going.”
    Reverend Callum produced a curious glance but did not inquire further. He put the shifter into drive and went about manhandling the old van over the snow-laden streets.
    â€œBeautiful when it’s like this, ain’t it?” he said presently, then began humming a tune in a minor key.
    Joe leaned his head against the cold glass and watched the dark shapes of buildings that they were passing. The facades of houses and storefronts stared back blankly. Here and there, he saw a string of lights, brave against a bleak frame. Nothing was moving.
    Though it wasn’t that far to downtown, the warmth and noise and