Free The Night Before by David Fulmer Page B

the soul.
    He turned back to wondering how much he could blame Mariel for what had happened. That he had never in his life committed a truly horrible act didn’t make him an innocent. She’d had every right to expect more from him and he had let her down. If for a certain actor stumbling on his book, nothing would have changed. That it had been so close a call was a humbling notion.
    It was in this chastened mood that he rose from the pew and ambled back into the office to call home to make some kind of arrangement. Standing over the telephone, he hesitated, preparing a speech. It wouldn’t do to lose his temper.
Cool and calm,
he told himself. No shouts or curses or name-calling and no breaking down. Just get into it and see where they stood.
    He was still working on his opening line when the phone chattered. There was an urgency to the ring tone that caused him to snatch up the receiver. “This is the… the Light of the World.” He stuttered over the words.
The Light of the World?
    Background noise and someone talking crowded a female voice. “This the shelter place?”
    Joe said, “This is the church, yes. Can I help you?”
    â€œWe got put out.” The woman sounded a bit hoarse.
    â€œPut out?”
    â€œPut out on the street,” she said. “Malikah and me. We need help. Some place to stay.” Joe said, “I’m not—”
    â€œHello?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I’m here.”
    â€œI got my child with me. She’s only seven.”
    Joe rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “Where are you?”
    â€œStore on Butler Street. Corner of Sixth.”
    â€œI’m sorry, I can’t—”
    â€œCan’t what?” The other voice muttered in the background. “The man says we need to leave.”
    â€œI’m sorry? What man?”
    â€œThe manager here.”
    Joe stared at the wall, feeling something come over him. The woman said, “Hello?”
    â€œPut him on the phone.”
    Clattering sounds were followed by a voice with a South Asian lilt. “Yes? May I help you?”
    â€œThis is Joe Kelly.” He reached for a tone of authority even as he ad-libbed the script. “I’m with the Light of the World Tabernacle.”
    The voice came back, now more cautious. “Yes, sir?”
    â€œYou’re the manager of the store?”
    â€œThe night manager, yes, sir.”
    â€œWell, a happy holiday to you.”
    â€œAnd the same to you, sir.”
    â€œI need to ask a favor. The woman and her child are not causing a problem, are they?”
    â€œProblem?” The manager hesitated. “No, sir.”
    â€œThen can you let them stay until I can get someone there?”
    â€œSir?”
    â€œSomebody will come to get them. From the church. It’s below freezing outside. And it’s Christmas Eve. We would appreciate it.”
    â€œAnd how long must they stay?”
    â€œNo more than a half-hour.”
    â€œOh…” The manager paused. “All right, then. Very good.”
    â€œButler at Sixth, right?”
    â€œThat’s right, yes, sir.”
    â€œThank you. Can I speak to the woman?”
    The phone was passed back. “Hello?”
    â€œHe’s going to let you stay. Someone will come get you and your child. Probably the… Reverend Callum. He’s out on a call right now.”
    â€œOkay, then. Thank you.”
    â€œWhat’s your name?”
    â€œNicole. Weaver.”
    â€œI’m Joe.”
    â€œOkay, then.”
    â€œYou stay put, all right?”
    The woman said, “We ain’t going anywhere. Got nowhere to go.”
    With that, she clicked off. Joe dropped the phone in the cradle, then hurried into the chapel and poked his nose to the mesh-framed window. The van was not in sight.
    He stood wondering if he was being touched by some stroke of magic. But such events didn’t really happen, did they?