Free Heart of the Country by Rene Gutteridge Page A

earth and the clouds of the heavens collided in prayer. And I felt it too. It was peaceful and void of the frantic noise that washed away any hope of quiet solitude in my life.
    Except I couldn’t pray. Shame washed over me. My momma had taught me many simple prayers, but for the life of me I couldn’t utter one.
    I stroked Silver’s mane. “Come on, buddy. It’s time to go back . . .” I wanted to say home , but the fact was I didn’t know where that was anymore.

15
    LUKE
    I PRESSED THE PHONE to my ear so hard that I felt the cartilage crunch against it. “Pick up . . . come on . . .” I waited impatiently. Filling in the infinitesimal seconds of silence were haunting voices. Jake’s, Faith’s, my father’s.
    “Hello?”
    I gasped at the sound of his voice.
    “Jason, hey . . . hey, it’s Luke.”
    “Yeah, I could see that on my caller ID.”
    “Listen, I’ve left you a few voice mails, just wanted to see if we could get together and maybe   —”
    “I can’t be seen with you, Luke. Okay? You get that, right? I mean, that’d be instant career death.”
    “Oh, come on, Jason. Don’t you think you’re overreact   —”
    “No, I don’t. I saw it that day.”
    “Saw what?”
    “I was getting a hot dog, saw you standing on the street corner, looking around like something was really wrong. I was just about to go ask you if you needed help when . . .” He cleared his throat. “When they came and took you away in handcuffs.”
    “So guilty until proven innocent, eh?”
    “You know what kind of world we live in, Luke. This is nothing new to you. We eat our young and everybody knows it, and so do you. And if the tables were turned, you wouldn’t even take my call.”
    Click . I held the phone there for a moment, hoping it was just a glitch and that he was still there.
    I took in a deep breath. And another. I dialed Steve. Voice mail. Then Kelly. Voice mail. Then Richard. Voice mail. I wasn’t even sure why I was calling people, but it seemed a good idea to maintain some contacts . . . some normalcy.
    I leaned against the counter, listening to the hyper flow of air in and out of my nostrils.
    It was the village, and I had leprosy.
    I set the phone down and my mind drifted away again. Where had Faith gone? She wouldn’t answer my calls, which I expected, at least temporarily. But it was a strange feeling not knowing where my wife was.
    My doorbell rang, sucking me back into my present circumstances. I’d been expecting Darmon but hadn’t realizedwhat time it was. I quickly opened the door and greeted him with a hug and a few slaps on the back.
    “Come on in,” I said, ushering him in and closing the door. “No trouble getting up here?”
    “Not like last time, that’s for sure. I swear your doorman really works for the Secret Service.”
    “He takes his job very seriously.” I smiled. “Come, sit down. You want a drink?”
    “No, I’m good.” And he didn’t sit. “Listen, we need to talk.”
    I glanced at him from the kitchen, where I was opening some seltzer water. “I know. I’ve got to catch you up on a lot of things. I know you’ve heard some stuff.”
    “Luke, I can’t stay.”
    “What are you talking about? You just got here.”
    “Yeah. I know.” Darmon looked like he was being crushed by every second that went by. “I wanted to talk to you in person. You deserve that.”
    I set the water down. Put my hands on the counter. “Sounding kind of ominous, Darmon.”
    “You’re in a big mess. A world of trouble, Luke. You know that. I don’t have to tell you.”
    “What’s your point, Darmon, because I called you over here for that very reason. I am in a world of trouble. That’s when you call your friends. Your best friend.”
    “I don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you on the news.” He shook his head and fingered his watch. “I can’t help you out. There’s nothingI can do. And standing around