This Much is True

by Louise, Tia

  “The apostle shook it off into the fire, and the men said he was a god!” His voice goes loud on god and voices in the congregation echo with amens. “Paul said the Spirit of the Lord is upon me…” More amens. “I can touch the deadly thing and it will not hurt me!”

  Brother Bob pauses in front of the stage, and two ushers enter from the side carrying a flat wooden box.

  “I said the deadly thing will not hurt me!”

  The congregants cheer a loud chorus of amens.

  “This is about to get crazy.” Scout is way too excited as he jumps to his feet.

  “Touch the deadly thing!” The lid is off the box and Bob reaches inside, swooping out a thick, beige snake with black markings.

  “Oh, shit.” Hope rises beside me, slipping her small hand into mine.

  Apprehension beats in my chest, and my fingers tighten over hers.

  “What is that?” Scout’s eyes flare. “A copperhead?”

  A tray begins circulating the crowd, and people throw money into it. I see crumpled twenties, fifties. I don’t know how these people can afford it.

  “We’re leaving.” I pull Hope closer to my side. “Give me the keys.”

  Scout is mesmerized, and I’m all too aware this ringleader is slowly edging closer to where we stand. It’s in that moment, Brother Bob turns his glittering black gaze on my brother.

  “I see there are some of you in our midst needing deliverance… Let him come forth!” His eyes blaze as he watches Scout.

  My jaw is tight. “I said let’s GO.”

  “Men struggling with the sin of sodomy!” He lowers the snake into the box, leveling his gaze on my brother. “For God has said it is a sin for a man to lie with another man as with a woman…”

  My grip tightens on Scout’s arm when I notice his expression has changed. His jaw is clenched, and he’s seething. “This guy recognizes me.”

  Looking around, I see people looking around, searching for the offender.

  “Come kneel at my feet and repent!”

  “This guy’s a fake.” Scout’s voice rises, and I pull him harder.

  “We’re fucking outnumbered. Let’s go!”

  “He’s a liar!” Scout shouts even louder, drawing attention of the people around us.

  “What’s happening?” Hope clutches my arm in both her hands.

  “Stay with me.” I grab my brother’s arms and muscle him to the perimeter of the tent.

  He struggles against me, but I’m using my size advantage to get us to safety. We’re outside in the darkness now, heading toward the parking lot, and I reach for Hope’s hand. She quickly slips it into mine again.

  “Come on.” I hold Scout ahead of me as we walk quickly to the Impala.

  He looks over his shoulder, back at the tent, his jaw still clenched. “He’s lying to those people, taking their money… We’ve got to expose him.”

  “We’re not going back in there.”

  “I don’t understand.” Hope’s voice is quiet at my shoulder.

  I’m still holding her hand, and I reluctantly let it go to unlock the car. “Get in. I’m driving.”

  “How you folks doing tonight?” The muffled voice pulls me up short, and I spin around to see three of the beefy, black-masked ushers have followed us out.

  Scout answers fast, stepping forward to meet them. “Not so great, considering that Brother Bob in there is a fucking liar!”

  “Start the car.” I toss the keys to Hope and step up beside my brother. “We’re not looking for any trouble. We’re just leaving.”

  “Sounds like your friend is doing the devil’s work.”

  “He’s my brother,” I correct the tank of a man. “He just doesn’t like snake handlers.”

  I put my hand on Scout’s arm. “Let’s go.”

  “I don’t like liars who preach they hate homosexuals when they’re secretly into it themselves.” Scout steps towards them, not following me to the car.

  “Is that so?” The big guy’s jaw clenches, and I see a cruel gleam in his eye. “How would you know something like that, pretty boy?”

  Adrenaline spikes in my veins, and I lower my hands, clenching my fists. Here we go…

  “Brother Bob seemed to recognize me.” Scout flexes his elbows, bringing his fists together under his chin. His blue eyes are leveled.

  The car engine roars to life behind me, and I can’t help thinking, Good girl, Hope.

  I try one more time. “We’re really not looking for any trouble.”

  “You’re not going to cause any either.” The other two guys step closer, and I turn, putting my back to my brother’s just in time for the first punch to fly.

  Scout’s fast, and I hear him grunt as he absorbs the big guy’s gut punch, turning and pulling him forward. The guy across from me goes for my face, but I didn’t spend two years in prison not to learn how to dodge a thug.

  I catch his wrist, pulling him closer and drive my knee upward into his stomach. He pitches forward with a groan, and Hope turns the car around, facing the exit.

  She pushes the passenger door open and yells at us. “Get in!”

  I hop over the guy’s fat body to the car. “Come on, Scout!”

  He’s close to me when the middle guy catches him with a right hook to the cheek.

  “Fuck!” My little brother starts go down, but I grab him under the arms, shoving him into the front seat with me right behind him.

  “Floor it!” I yell, slamming the door, and Hope punches the gas.

  Hope

  My hands are shaking, but I grip the steering wheel as I fly out of the dirt and gravel parking lot onto Highway 43.

  Rocks scatter and one of the huge men attempts to chase us a few feet. He doesn’t make it far. I’m breathing fast, as I check my mirrors. We’re leaving this little city, speeding into the night.

  “You okay?” My voice is shaky as I glance at the guys.

  “Yeah,” JR groans, sliding over the seat into the back. “Those guys were more fat than muscle.”

  Scout’s in the seat beside me holding his cheek. He’s looking at the side mirror, and his voice has an edge I’ve never heard in it. “We’ve got to report that guy. He’s stealing those people’s money.”

  “Report him to who?” JR’s voice is equally sharp, but I don’t feel afraid.

  I saw the protective fire in his eyes when he took my hand in that tent. He kept me by his side the whole way to the car, and I never felt safer.

  “You’re lucky you got away with just a sock in the face,” he barks. “You were messing with their hustle.”

  “I hate bullshit like that.” Scout’s so mad. I don’t know what to think. “He’s a fucking hypocrite.”

  “Good luck trying to prove it.” JR stretches back, exhaling deeply.

  “Anybody care to tell me what just happened?” I glance at Scout.

  The car falls quiet, and music plays softly, The Chicks singing about truth. I keep driving a little longer, then I laugh, shaky with nerves.

  “Seriously? You’re not going to tell me?”

  I glance in the rearview mirror, and JR’s eyes meet mine. “Not my story to tell.”

  Scout only stares out the window, and the muscle in his jaw moves. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

  My eyes are on the road, but I steal another glance at him. “It was big enough to get us chased out of a tent revival.”

  “Because that guy’s a con man. Handling snakes and talking about evil spirits.”

  Pressing my lips together, I’m not sure what to say. I try to trace back over what happened. One minute we were sitting at the picnic table eating and joking around, then the snake came out, and the brothers jumped up for a closer look… Heck, we all did, except I was safely behind JR’s shoulder.

  Another glance at Scout, and I think about everything that’s happened. I didn’t really press him too hard for details on the person he left behind in Fireside. He said it was a girl, but I guess sometimes gay guys call each other
girl… I think. Do they still do that?

  “Well, I grew up in San Francisco, so ‘love is love,’ I always say.” My voice is confident, reassuring. “If you think you have to hide your truth from me, I hope you know—”

  “What?” Scout winces at me. “I’m not gay, Hope. Shit. Not that there’s anything wrong with that… It’s just not me.”

  I frown at him. “But… that guy back there was talking about Sodomites, and you lost your shit.”

  “Because I have gay friends. I don’t like them being treated that way.”

  “But you said he recognized you…”

  He doesn’t answer. He looks out the window and quiet fills the car, except for now it’s Taylor Swift singing about cardigans and getting on busses.

  JR sits up, touching me on the shoulder gently. “You’re going to take the next right to get on I-20. See it?”

  As frustrated as I am with Scout, I can’t help warming at JR’s touch. His hand on my shoulder makes my stomach all tight and fizzy. He was such a badass back there beating up those thugs and holding me close to his side.

  “Thanks.” I’m pretty sure I sound like a crushing teenage girl.

  And I’m very aware this is a silly way to act, but there it is.

  Following the road, I get on I-20, and my stomach growls. I can’t help thinking Scout’s the only one who got a real meal tonight.

  “Want me to stop at a McDonald’s?” I glance back at JR, who’s watching the lights pass out the window. “You never got to eat.”

  His ice blue eyes meet mine. “You only got a roll.”

  I smile. He noticed. “I don’t want to spend your money.”

  “It’s no problem.”

  I wish he’d suggest we stop at another motel, maybe we all need to shower again. After the way things played out tonight, if I had another chance, I wouldn’t wait for him to make the first move. I’d close the space between us and kiss him myself.

  We’re back on the road, heading across the top of Louisiana.

  JR got a cheeseburger and fries, Scout got a super-sized cup of ice for his cheek, and I got an Egg McMuffin and small coffee. I hope I can drive for several hours now that I’m in the seat.

  I switched the radio station, and it’s back to the 60s on 6. “My dad loved this station.”

  I’m halfway through my egg sandwich, taking a sip of my coffee when Scout blurts, “I’m a gay porn star.”

  Blazing hot liquid sucks into my mouth, and I cough, swerving on the highway.

  “Jesus!” he shouts. “Don’t wreck the car!”

  Blinking hard, I cough again. “What did you just say?”

  “Rammin’ Rod. Dreamboys.” He looks at his lap, and I hear a chuckle from the backseat.

  I’m not sure if I should laugh. “You’re a gay porn star?”

  “Print media only.” He says it like that somehow changes things.

  “So like… you’re in magazines? For gay guys?” I glance at him.

  “Just one. And alone. I mean, it was just me alone. One time.”

  “How…” I don’t even know where to begin to start asking questions.

  “I guess I should’ve known when I went to Ultimate Sensations Photography Studio something was up.”

  “The studio was called Ultimate Sensations? That sounds like a brand of condoms.”

  More chuckles from the backseat.

  “Shut up, JR.” Scout casts a glare at his brother. “I had just arrived in LA. I didn’t know anybody, I didn’t have any fucking money, and every audition required a headshot.”

  “Let me get this straight. You went in for headshots and came out a gay porn star?” My eyes narrow. “How does that happen? Don’t you have to sign a release or something? Get paid?”

  “Apparently it was part of the paperwork I signed. The headshots were so cheap because I agreed to let him use my image.”

  “But… you said you went for a headshot. Why were you naked?”

  Scout pushes his feet against the floor, squirming in his seat. “He had this whole spiel… ten professional poses, including headshots.”

  “Including nudes?”

  “He said I should do a few nudes in case the casting directors wanted to see me naked. Like for R-rated movies like Fifty Shades of Grey or something. History of Violence. Hell, even Bruce Willis has his dick out in 12 Monkeys.”

  Squinting at him, I’m trying to understand. “You fell for that?”

  “He was a really nice guy. He had me hold a football. Apparently, I have an appealing cock. He said I should do art photos for magazines.”

  “So you’re a natural blond.”

  JR laughs more, and Scout cuts his eyes at me. “Alcohol.”

  My eyebrows shoot up. “He got you drunk?”

  “I want alcohol. I’m not having this conversation without whiskey.”

  “We’re not stopping.” JR snaps from the backseat. “Keep driving, Hope.”

  Scout turns in his seat. “Look, I know you’ve been in the joint for two years, so you’ve forgotten what it’s like, but if I’m describing my biggest fuckup in Hollywood, I want whiskey.”

  I look at the green sign approaching. “Hold that thought. We’re twenty-four miles to Vicksburg.”

  We pull off at a Pack n Save and gas up. Scout grabs a bottle of Jack Daniels and two paper cups. Back on the road, we’re both in the backseat, paper cups in hand with JR at the wheel. So much for me driving.

  “It was six months before I knew what had happened.” Scout leans his head back.

  My feet are up on the seat in front of us. “What happened?”

  “I went for a callback on this TV show, Mighty Thunder. It was about stock car racers who fight crimes. I was going to get to race cars.”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Yeah, it didn’t make it through pilot season.” He slugs the rest of his whiskey and pours us both more, even though I’ve barely taken a sip. “We were standing around, and this one guy kept checking me out. I get that a lot, so I just ignored it.”

  I take a sip of the burning amber liquid and squint. “Was he a gay porn star too?”

  “No.” Scout gives me an annoyed glare.

  “Sorry!” I hold up a hand and bury my nose in my cup. “Jeez…”

  “After my take, he asked if I was the guy from Howard’s Other End.” I can’t help snorting, and Scout shakes his head. “It’s funny. I know. I told him I’d never heard of it. The day went on, and this other guy, one of his friends apparently had been Googling me all day. He made some comment about how he questioned the integrity of the production. When people asked why, he said they hired porn stars to be in it.”

  “Oh, no.” My voice is quiet.

  “The casting director asked why I hadn’t disclosed I was Rammin’ Rod from the December issue of Dreamboys.” He exhales heavily. “I tried to explain I didn’t authorize it, I didn’t even know about it, but it didn’t matter. Apparently having a porn star in the cast kills your ratings. I was asked to leave.”

  “I’m sorry.” I put my hand on his shoulder.

  “It took three years for that shit to go away. I’m not sure it’s completely gone. It probably still keeps me from getting called for things. But six months ago, this new casting director gave me a shot in that Christopher Nolan film. Then everything shut down.”

  JR isn’t laughing anymore, and I feel bad. I also feel fuzzy and warm from the whiskey.

  “I bet when we get back, it’ll be even more ancient history than it was before. You’ll see.”

  I’m not sure I’m making sense, but Scout doesn’t seem to mind. He leans back and gives me that disarming, dimpled grin. “Hope Eternal, thank you.”

  He’s a bit wobbly when he holds up the half-empty bottle, but I shake my head. “No more for me.”

  He drops it on the floorboard and sits up, pressing his fingertips lightly on his cheek. “My face stopped hurting.”

  Leaning closer, I inspect the damage. A red line is at the
top of his cheekbone, but the skin isn’t broken. “I don’t think you’ll have a black eye.”

  Catching my neck, he pulls me in for a rough kiss to the top of my forehead. “You’re the best.” Then leans against the door and goes to sleep.

  I sit back and look at the half-empty cup in my hand.

  JR’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. “It’s lucky he’s so good at football.”

  I check the bottle he dropped on the floorboard. The top is sealed tight, so I climb over the seat into the front.

  “Hollywood is hard.” I pull my knee up and set my chin on the top, facing him. “We always heard stories from people who went and came back.”

  “Yeah, that porn thing’s just a setback. He’ll be fine. People love working with him.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I study his square jaw and striking profile. “It’s not that way for you?”

  Ice blue eyes flicker to me, sliding down my neck and back. “No.”

  It’s probably the whiskey, but that brief, hot look gets the blood simmering in my veins.

  I shift in my seat, lowering my knee and tracing my finger along the back of the seat towards him. “You’ve got qualities.”

  His eyebrow arches, and he glances at me. “Qualities? Like what?”

  “Like back there, the way you stood up for your brother.” I want to say it was sexy as fuck, but I might need another shot of whiskey.

  JR exhales a laugh. “He didn’t give me much of a choice.”

  “What would you do if you had a choice?” My insides are all sizzling, and I scoot a little closer.

  The muscle in his jaw moves, and I want to touch it. “I thought I’d work with my dad.”

  “Running a gym?” My eyes are on his full lips.

  “I thought I’d take over when he was ready to retire… Maybe open a second location closer to the coast.”

  “You don’t want to do that now?”

  His brow lowers, and that anger is back. “Now I want to know what he knew about San Francisco.”

  Chewing my bottom lip, I think about this. “You think your dad set you up?”

  “He made the deal. He sent me to do the pickup.”

  “Was that different?”

  “I was married with a little kid. My dad is a widower with two grown sons—one he could’ve visited in Los Angeles.” His fists tighten on the steering wheel and he exhales, looking out the side window. “His favorite.”