JJ had his head stuck in a book. He didn't even lift it when Rufus called out to him. Rufus had to tap him on his shoulder.
'JJ, wake up man.'
JJ looked at him with bleary eyes. 'Oh. Hey Ruf.'sup.'
Rufus stood back and stared at him. 'Are you ok? I mean, like really ok?'
JJ blinked. Rufus looked down at the book he was holding, its translucent pages crammed with tiny print. He gasped and grabbed at the book. JJ struggled to hold onto it, but the sheer amazement gave Rufus super powers and he snatched it up, closed the cover and stood dumbfounded. The thick black book was clad in faux leather, recycled dinosaur pressed into thin, crappy sheets and embossed with shiny yellow lettering to give it a prestigious appearance whilst remaining affordable.
'No way.' Rufus said.
'She's into it.' JJ said lamely. 'She works for a Church or something.'
Rufus guffawed and held the Bible aloft. 'Now THAT's commitment!' he said, collapsing into laughter. JJ tried to snatch it back and Rufus stopped playing keep-away with the Bible after one solid glare. JJ walked away from him and into the kitchen, leaving the bible on the island countertop that separated it from the rest of the apartment.
Rufus regarded his friend with a sense of concern. He ignored the first three wisecracks that popped into his mind. JJ was all bent out of shape and even Rufus wouldn't stoop to pinging off him when he was low. Rufus stifled the mirth and walked over to the countertop and leant across it. 'Seriously JJ, you're reading the Bible?'
JJ nodded. 'Want to test me on it?'
Rufus gave a short barking laugh which he curtailed, at another sign of distress from his friend. He shook his head. 'JJ I love you like you I gave birth to you myself, but if you go religious on me, I'm gonna get a new place.'
JJ frowned and leaned against the sink.
Rufus shook his head again. 'I can't believe you've gone so nuts over some chick. Please tell me this is all just about getting laid.'
JJ said nothing.
Thoughts bubbled up inside Rufus's head, but JJ looked so damn stricken. He sighed. 'Man you got it bad.' He picked up the Bible again. 'I mean, seriously bad.'
JJ looked forlornly at him. Rufus robotically picked up the Bible and flipped open a page. 'I can't believe I'm doing this' he said to himself, but to JJ he said. 'Ok, give me something from…' he flipped the pages and stuck his finger onto a random spot. 'err…this bit here. Ezekiel 7:25'
'I don't know that one yet.'
Rufus's eyes traversed the passage and he quickly flipped the pages. 'Yeah, let's do a different one.'
---
The sets had been dismantled from the stage and were stacked in piles of tubes and flats on the stage itself. The audience seating was being slowly removed from the rear, leaving just the front few rows. Moving men were boxing up the lighting rig for shipping and electricians were stripping the cable from the overhead rigging before it too was disassembled.
Vicky watched the buzzing ants devouring the carcass of the show with equanimity. She didn't feel anything. She didn't feel. She wondered if death was like this. Not pain, just the absence of feeling.
Ronny crept quietly up beside her and out an arm around her shoulders. It was the first time he had ever touched her. She didn't even flinch. He sighed. 'Fucking bastards.'
Vicky had to concur. 'They sure didn't waste any time.'
Ronny turned his back on the destruction with a sense of finality, as if he had chosen that moment to end that part of his life. It seemed to calm him. 'They've paid me out, so I am free to go anytime. I'm only here because…'
He was speaking to the floor, not raising his eyes to her. Vicky looked at him as if for the first time. Ronny was a kindly man. He had never belittled her for her inexperience when she first started. He had always striven to help her. He was, she realized, a friend. Vicky impulsively kissed him on the cheek. Ronny blushed a deep red.
He finally looked up at her. 'I'm gonna miss you Vicky.'
'I'm going to miss you too Ronny.'
He smiled at her. 'So do you have anything lined up? I'm taking up a cable job in Milwaukee. Me and the kids will move out there. It's just local TV, but it's better than these nutjobs.'
Vicky looked past him to the skeleton of the stage. 'I am waiting for the Lord to guide me.'
Ronny masked a scowl and hugged her. 'My mobile number is gonna stay the same, so if you need anything…' he trailed away and looked into her face. She was beatific, sure in the certainty that somehow God would provide. He hoped that she wouldn't wait too long for Him to get His ass in gear.
'Remember Vicky, the Lord helps those who help'emselves. You take care of yourself now, y'hear?' He gave her a final squeeze and left her standing at the back of the studios while the world was dismantled and packed away about her.
---
The voice quality on the line was crystal clear. Josiah could hear the grunting and murmurings of the Board relayed to him with nuance, thanks to the wonders of high end teleconferencing. The Ministry was truly with-the-times and a good percentage of revenues, or donations as some liked to call them, helped keep the Ministry supplied with cutting edge technological means to Serve the Lord.
In this instance, serving the Lord amounted to cutting costs and His wrath, or at least His wrath as personified by the Board, was a terrible thing to behold.
"How much is she costing us?' snapped one irate board member.
'Please Franklin.' said the Chairman, soothingly. 'This isn't Josiah's fault. These were the terms of the deal'
Josiah breathed a muted sigh of relief, suddenly fearful that the fidelity of the conference unit on his desk would betray him.
'Well, find something for her to do then. Can we move her down to Atlanta?' asked another member.
Josiah cleared his throat. 'Not unless she wants to go, sir. It's ah, also part of the deal.'
The High Fidelity cursing rang out across the office.
'Brethren, please.' said the Chairman, politely suppressing the argument of the board members.
'Josiah, we want to thank you for doing the Lord's work in your usual effective manner, we're very pleased with the progress so far. The numbers are up, the costs are down. I think everyone here agrees with me.'
Josiah thrilled under the praise.
'Just find a way to get rid of the girl and we can close down the studio and consolidate it into one technical space for retransmission. Can you do that for me son?'
'Absolutely, sir. You can count on it.'
'I believe you Josiah, I really do. God Bless you son.'
---
Josiah found Vicky in the stage office, the small room next door to the main exit. Two computer screens were displaying graphs and a third showed a ratings spreadsheet. She was intently staring at the spreadsheet, lost in the numbers.
He knocked on the frame of the open door to get her attention. 'Ah, Vicky.' He said, stressing the name and smiling at its conclusion, 'how are you?'
Vicky looked up from the computer screen and her eyes refocused. 'I'm fine thank you.'
Josiah invited himself into the room and took a seat. 'So I've, ah, been meaning to talk to you about your future with the station.'
Vicky said nothing, waiting.
He continued. 'You know we have a big show in Atlanta and there's an opening coming up for a senior producer, I thought maybe…'
Vicky narrowed her gaze into an expression descended from the disapproving look her mother had held in reserve for times when she was being truly annoying.
Josiah read the storm signal. It was more emotion than he had seen her show in the week since he had arrived.
'Are you going to make me move?' she asked.
Josiah felt battered by the implications of the question. She wasn't just being 'moved', she was asking if she was to be uprooted, torn from her family, borne away to a strange and alien place and an uncertain future. A kidnapping, a forcible abduction, a: he stopped, because she needed an answer. 'We can't make you move' he said and relief washed over him.
'Good' said Vicky. 'Because I don't want to.'
Josiah realized his failure could only be redeemed in one way. 'Well, the board won't have you idle, so we have to find something for you to do.' Unable to provide any of his usual brilliant ideas, he looked to her, hoping for some miracle. 'Do you have any suggestions?'
Vicky looked back to her screen and followed the chart, stopping over a trough in the Audience Demographic. 'Even with the new programming, we're still weak in the younger age groups. If only we could reach them somehow.'
Josiah saw the light, a golden, radiant beam of Gods Grace. 'I see it. A children's show. Yes, an excellent idea, Vicky.' Josiah shot up from his chair, filled with a new purpose. He stepped out into the ruined studio. 'We can use the stage, keep these front seats and put up a brand new set. We'd only need a theme and a host. Excellent.'
One of the electricians on the stage spotted Josiah and approached 'We're ready to start dismantling the overhead, so you need to move out of the…'
Josiah held a hand up. 'Do no such thing. We're going to need the rig for the new lights.'
Vicky stood up and watched Josiah gather the electrician in his arm and walk him towards the stage, chattering instructions to them as he went. He disappeared into the distance in a tornado of activity. The lights on the studio snapped on and suddenly the place was alive once more. Vicky made the sign of the cross. As she looked around the studio, the moving men were talking amongst themselves and one by one, the boxes reversed their directions.
She watched them re enter and deposit the light and cables back onto the floor of the stage. One of the moving men stopped in the doorway and looked around, uncertainly. She studied his face for a moment until he turned to look at her and they locked eyes.
It was that boy again. He gave a start, but seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move towards her.
'I thought it was a church.' he said.
'What?' Vicky said.
'Your card said Ministry. I thought it was a church.'
'It's a Ministry.' Vicky said.
JJ nodded. 'Yeah.' Then he shook his head, as if to clear it. 'What's the difference?'
'A Ministry is a pastoral service to the community. A church is a place.' Vicky explained.
He nodded. 'Right. Got it. So you work for a 'Ministry.''
He hadn't moved, but somehow he had gotten closer. Vicky realized she had walked a few steps towards him. 'This was the Reverend Thomas Marsden's Ministry. We're now part of the Evangelical Ministries Association.'
'Right.' JJ said.
'Why did you come here?' Vicky asked quietly.
'I had to see you' blurted JJ. He held a hand up over his treacherous mouth.
Josiah DeJean walked straight into the middle of their conversation. 'No slacking now, get that stuff back in here my boy. There's a lot to be done. "Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us' He said sternly.
JJ responded as if someone had released the starting gate. 'Hebrews 12:1?'
Josiah checked him up and down. 'You're not one of the movers?'
JJ shook his head. 'No, I ah, I just came by to see, because I thought it was a church and…' he stammered.
Josiah gave him an appraising eye. He was tall, thin, young and reasonably attractive in a bony sort of way. That hawkish nose: the droopy eyes. Like a young…
Josiah suddenly put an arm on JJ's shoulder and bridged the gap to Vicky, seizing her shoulder. 'Ask, and it shall be given you; seek; and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened! My son, I think you were guided here today by a greater purpose. I think the Lord delivered this pious man to us in our time of need. Vicky, let's get a camera on our young friend here and see how it likes him.'
Josiah grinned madly at both of them, his head sweeping from side to side like a manic lighthouse. Vicky and JJ looked at each other.
'Matthew 8:7' mumbled JJ.
---
The trustee walked up the stairs to the first floor tier. The block maintained a creeping stench that couldn't be dispelled by any known cleaner. It was the smell of misery, condensed from a thousand unhappy occupants. He waited until the coast was as clear as it was going to get before going to the cell. He pushed the mop methodically along the floor, dipping it every so often into the bucket and renewing it in the dark greasy water.
As he passed the cell he stooped down to absently scratch a spot away from the floor. As he did so, he slipped a small folded piece of paper onto the ground and flicked it with the mop. It slid through the bars and into the cell. When he was gone and the guards had locked the cell blocks down, the occupant of the cell unfolded the note and read it. After a moment, he memorized the contents and popped the piece of paper into his mouth, chewed once and swallowed.
-
The first slap landed on the side of his head without any warning. The room spun and stars came out in the ceiling. Years of experience taught him to raise a hand to intercept the second hand before it struck him. 'Ma!' he yelled, dancing backwards.
'Don't you Ma me you little shit.' She screamed at him. 'You little piece of trash, you junkie.'
The young man jumped out of the way of another stinging blow. The bump he had done before he got home was still jangling his nerves so he did the unthinkable and slapped her back, hard, across the face. She fell over the soiled couch and landed heavily. He walked over and stood above her, still a little woozy, his ears ringing.
'Don't you do that again Ma. Don't you do that.' He threatened. She could see the whites of his eyes, the pupils retracted into tiny pin points. 'Don't you do that any more, you bitch' he said, lingering over the note of disdain in his voice.
'They're going to kill you' she said, half in terror, half angry. 'They're going to rip you up for what you did. I know.'
He stopped, suddenly feeling a pall of fear. She sensed victory and got up, wincing. 'You killed a man and they'll kill you for it.'
He fumbled suddenly in his pocket and pulled out a gun which he brandished in her face.
She held up a letter. 'He sent a letter. A letter. He knows what you did and he's real mad now. Oh you're gonna get it for sure now.'
The young man kept the gun on her, shaking slightly.
'All you had to do was get the pictures. That's all you had to do. Now you've got the cops involved, just like he told you not to. You did it and I'm gonna tell him, then you'll be sorry' she snarled.
The young man tensed as a small popping sound startled him. His mother had gone quiet. She was making weak noises from her throat whilst a red stain spread out across her shirt. A wisp of smoke was curling upwards from the revolver.
He put the gun back into his pocket and took the letter from her hands. She slid back down onto the floor and bled slowly.
He sat on the couch and read the letter, taking a glass pipe out of the inside of his jacket, that he kept next to the battered copy of Steppenwolf, and ran his fingers around the rim.There was enough residue to light up, so he sucked a bowl down and held the smoke in for as long as he could, until the world lit up again and he could feel the pounding of his blood in his veins.
Nothing could stop him, especially not cheap loose leaf paper with the large imprecise scrawl of an illiterate convict. 'Dear Sis.' it began.
'BeEn a Long TimE Sis...'
He began to count the capitals and cursive, quickly unlocking the code in his lightning fast mind.
'Bitch' he said aloud. 'He doesn't want me dead. He wants to meet.'
At the edges of his mind, the imminent demise of his euphoria surfaced and he knew he was going to have to score.
He walked over to the body and started to rifle through her pockets.