Free Five Moons of Pluto by Andre Jeter Page A

Russell says. “Dat’s some small faith.” He looks at Billy-Joel. “What about your faith? Is it bigga’ than yo’ nana’s?”
                           “Of course it is! I shall fear no death, so long as my Lord is with me.”
                           Russell scoffs. “Prove it!”
                           Billy-Joel stands still for a moment, thinking, then he throws the gun on the ground. “Here ya go,” he says.
                           Russell’s eyes widen. “I ain’t gonna shoot ya, stupid. I was just kiddin’ around.”
                           “Whaddaya… scared ?”
                           “ No ,” Russell says furiously, then he picks up the gun and points it at Billy-Joel, who just shakes his head.
                           “You ain’t shootin’ nobody.”
                           “I said I don’t wanna shoot ya!” Russell’s hand begins to shake. “Don’t make me do it.” His finger is on the trigger, but soon enough tears run down his face and he slowly lowers the gun.
                           Billy-Joel approaches Russell. He places his hand gently on top of Russell’s and turns the weapon towards his own head. “You can’t hurt me, Russell. I won’t let ya.” He smiles at his friend. “It’ll be a lot easier if ya close your eyes.”
                           Russell wipes the tears from his eyes and closes them.
                           “I’m gonna count ‘til ten and then you gonna pull dat trigger, k?”
                           Russell shakes his head as he begins counting. Billy-Joel watches Russell’s eyes, then he bends down and picks up a long stick. “Six, seven, eight—” He uses the stick to poke Russell in the stomach. With a jolt, Russell squeezes the trigger, unleashing a bullet that goes into Billy-Joel’s head. In then out. Blood splatters onto Russell’s face. He drops the gun and stares at his dead friend on the ground, the whole in his head the size of a golf ball.
                           Russell’s eyes roll up into his head, and he passes out.
    ***
                  Russell opens his eyes and looks up at the clouds as they pass by. His vision is blurry until he rubs his eyes, then he sits up and focuses them. Then he sees, just a few feet in front of him, right at the edge of the lake, Billy-Joel bent over. He’s washing the blood off his shirt and face. Russell feels his blood turn cold. He did it! He leaps up to his feet and rushes over to his friend.
                           “You didn’t die!” he shouts. “You really didn’t die!”
                           Billy-Joel turns around and smiles. He doesn’t have a scratch on him, though trickles of dried blood still remain on his face.
                           “Of course I didn’t die,” he says. “My faith in the Lord is too strong, not even death can make me doubt.” He starts to laugh, and then so does Russell.
                           “Boy, ya really had me scared. Did ya see anything while you were dead?”
    Billy-Joel wishes immediately that the question didn’t come up. He doesn’t want to tell his friend the things he saw, the people he spoke to, and the events that are about to come. He wants to say that Russell is going to die in just two weeks, but he was told not to interfere with God’s plan and that he will be with his friend soon. Billy-Joel pleaded and begged to the angels to spare his life a little longer, but he knows the outcome will still be the same: death in two weeks.
    Billy-Joel balls up his fists but pulls back after an angel touches his shoulder and whispers in his ear. He loosens his fists and accepts the plan.