Free Forty Times a Killer by William W. Johnstone Page B

was hooked into his waistband, close to the Colt.
    â€œMy name is Isaac,” the big man said. “And these are my brothers Charley and Milton.” He bowed as he introduced the women. “My dear wives Goldie and Estelle.”
    â€œRight pleased to meet you, an’ no mistake.” I figured these folks were tetched in the head.
    More so when the man called Isaac said, “After you sleep, we’ll teach the word to you about the Contrarians and our faith.”
    â€œI could use a cup of coffee,” Wes said.
    â€œYes, yes, of course,” Isaac said. “But that comes sooner.”
    Now, I don’t know why I thought I could engage in polite conversation with a man with loco camped out in his eyeballs, but so help me I tried.
    â€œWhere are you folks from?” I said.
    â€œAh, we’re headed south for the Oklahoma Territory,” Isaac said.
    â€œThat’s north,” Wes said.
    Isaac’s kin giggled as he said, “Why, of course it is. Very well said, young man. You see, because Oklahoma is north, we’re going south.” He smiled like a benign favorite uncle. “That is the Contrarian way.”
    â€œBut you’ll never get there,” I said.
    â€œBut we will,” Isaac said. “The good Lord will show us a road.”
    The woman called Estelle, a pretty young blonde with smoke gray eyes and a small, prim mouth, decided to do some preachifying. “Although it can be very difficult at times—or should that be easy?—we Contrarians live backward.”
    â€œOh, yes, very, very difficult,” Isaac said, shaking his head. “And there I state the case dishonestly.”
    â€œWe sleep during the day and go about our business at night,” Estelle said. “We eat dinner as our first meal, and breakfast for our last. But that is just some of the simpler, back-to-front things we do.”
    â€œWe even tried walking backward,” one of the brothers said. “But Charley stepped into a gopher hole and broke his ankle, and Isaac said that such means of locomotion was too dangerous, so now we desist from that.”
    Wes had been listening with the utmost interest as he studied Estelle’s small, high breasts. “Why the hell do you live backward?”
    This occasioned another burst of laughter, then Isaac said, “Well, you see, by living backward we won’t be a day older tomorrow, we’ll be a day younger.”
    â€œAnd eventually,” Estelle said, “we’ll become children again.”
    â€œWhy do you want that?” I asked.
    â€œTo enter the kingdom of heaven, of course,” Isaac said.
    Estelle warmed to her subject. “In the Gospel of Matthew, chapter eighteen, verse three, Jesus says, ‘I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’”
    â€œAnd that in a nutshell, boiled down, in brief, is the very basis of our Contrarian faith,” Isaac said. “To enter Heaven, we must retrace our steps through life, go backward and become little children again.”
    The woman named Goldie, who had remained silent, tilted back her head and yelled, “Backward is forward, forward is backward! Hallelujah!”
    â€œAmen, sister, amen!” Isaac said, his arms spread wide.
    He turned to me. “Years ago, in my wild youth, I was smitten with a dread disease, given to me by one of the fallen women of the town. One night, after even the mercury cure failed, I prayed that God would cure me, and I heard his voice in my head say, ‘Live backward, Isaac. Become a child again.’”
    â€œHallelujah!” Goldie yelled.
    â€œWhen I woke up the next morning, I was free of the disease,” Isaac said. “And that was when I became the first Contrarian.”
    â€œHallelujah!” Goldie yelled again.
    â€œWe don’t want you to join us to share in Isaac’s miracle,”