GrimlockX4
…for the review. Enjoy!
Andrew wiped his sleeves across his forehead, squinted through the glare toward a distant line of dusty hills, and breathed in a deep lungful of fresh country air. He was leaning against a dirty shovel, watching as Travis paid his final respects to his best friend. The man seemed strangely empty, like a body without a spirit. His eyes were filled with sorrow, but he did not cry.
Travis stared down at the small, freshly dug grave, his eyes vacant, his shoulders slumped like a defeated athlete. "So long, Max…"
He solemnly pushed a toy bone into the dirt, marking the grave, then turned to grab a bottle resting on a nearby tree branch.
"Uh…Travis," Andrew began, knowing what that bottle contained. "I don't think you should—"
"I'm not paying you to think, Andrew," Travis interrupted, glaring at him. For all the alcohol the man had consumed, his words were only slightly slurred. "I'm paying you to fix this place up. Now, get back to work." He took a swig of the bottle's contents, emptying it, then threw it at the foot of the tree where other bottles littered the ground. "And mind your own business."
Andrew swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."
He scooped up the shovel and turned in the direction of the barn. Travis mumbled something and slowly trudged back to the house. The angel watched him for a moment with a look of infinite sadness. He could only imagine how lonely Travis must be feeling right now.
"How's he doing?"
Andrew looked over his shoulder at Tess. "He's breathing. That's all I can tell you." He stared at the screen door that had just swung shut. "I just can't get through to him, Tess."
The older angel put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, angel boy. That poor baby might not be ready to listen to you, but maybe he'll listen to an old friend."
As she said that, a car pulled up to the ranch. A man with neatly combed dark hair, wearing a nice suit, climbed out of the car, shaking his head at the sorry sight of the rundown ranch.
Andrew smiled, recognizing the man from the crash site. Pastor Kyle Sherman. He turned to say something to his friend, but she had already gone. The pastor spotted him and came up to meet him, introducing himself, a big smile on his face. Andrew returned the gesture and went to let Travis know he had a visitor. He knocked on the side of the screen door.
"Hey, Travis," he called into the house. "There's someone here to see you."
They heard the man stumble around inside before appearing in the doorframe. His eyes narrowed when he saw the pastor.
Kyle smiled. "Travis?"
"I'm not going, Kyle," said the sour-faced man in the doorway.
The pastor chuckled, shaking his head. "Church has long been over, Travis. So is lunch." He saw the bottle the man clutched in his right hand. "I see you've started happy hour."
Travis rolled his eyes, moving from the doorway, wordlessly allowing his friend to come inside. Kyle shrugged, giving Andrew a look, before stepping into his friend's home.
The house was cold and lonely. There was a light layer of dust on all the furniture. The cushions on the good chairs were tattered and stained. The counters and sinks were piled with dirty dishes and empty beer bottles. Unopened mail and various magazines were scattered all over the table and floor. Kyle shook his head in disdain. This was a sad way to live.
He followed Travis into the kitchen where the man picked up an empty mug and a cold pot of coffee. He took a deep breath, deciding to get to the chase.
"I guess you know everybody in town's talkin' about nothin' but."
Travis shrugged. "People talk." He offered Kyle a cup of coffee, which the pastor kindly declined. "People see what they wanna see," he continued, placing a mug of coffee in the microwave. He started it then turned back to his friend. "Miracles, like faith, are psychosomatic."
Kyle shook his head. "I disagree."
Travis stared at him, a very serious look on his face. "My last shred of faith and significance died this morning."
The pastor winced. "Max?" Travis' eyes were downcast, giving him his answer. "I'm sorry to hear that Travis. I know how much he meant to you and Marian." Travis remained silent, going to retrieve his coffee, as Kyle offered a few words of comfort. "We don't know why bad things happen to good people. We don't always understand His plan—"
Travis rolled his eyes, putting his mug down onto the counter a bit harder than he had intended. "Spare me the clichés, Kyle."
"Look, Travis, I came over to tell you the ministers are all having a meeting tonight at Our Lady. I'd like you to come."
"I'm not a minister anymore."
"I'd still like for you to be there. Your skepticism will give us a healthy balance." Kyle grinned. He was up to something. "Pick you up at six?"
Travis stared at him in disbelief. "Have you heard a word I said?"
Kyle chuckled. "I hear real well."
Travis' eyes followed the pastor as he stepped out the door and strolled back to his car. He shook his head, reaching for his coffee, when a familiar sound reached his ears. He glanced out the window, straining his ears to hear where it was coming from. It couldn't be…
He tore through the kitchen and dashed outside, running past Andrew who had heard the sound, too. He had only gotten about a few yards from his house when he spotted what was making all the noise.
He froze where he stood, hardly breathing, taking in a sight he wasn't ready to believe.
"Max!?"
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