“Really?”
His smile grew. “Yes, really.” His brow twitched and his voice whispered, “Because of you.”
“Vince, this was your idea even before I got here.”
“But you made it happen. God put us together to finish it.”
That stole her breath.
“Mom, guess what?” Sophie bounded up, Sky strolling silently behind. “I just heard Lew’s giving hay rides with the tractor. Tibo’s gonna love that.”
Cassandra gasped, realizing he wasn’t with her mother or with Sophie. “Where is Tibo?”
“I thought Grandma had him.”
“No, she’s at the ticket booth.” Her pulse raced as her head swiveled in every direction. Where was he?
They all scanned the parking lot. Mothers and fathers strolled from booth to booth, children in tow, laughing as though they had not a care in the world. No Tibo anywhere.
Could he have wandered into the church building? Cassandra turned that way, with a spark of hope wanting to take hold. Maybe he had gone to the bathroom.
Sky ran to a small hill and searched from a position of height. He looked desperate in his attempt, then excited as his gaze lit on something. He pointed. “There he is.”
The relief was fierce as Cassandra turned to where Sky pointed. Lew’s tractor, dragging a hay and child-filled trailer, rounded a bend displaying a blond boy sitting in the front with Lew, hands on the steering wheel. Tibo’s joy was unmistakable as he bounced on the seat and threw back his head with laughter. Lew wore a grin the biggest Cassandra had ever seen. She almost cried with relief.
~*~
“Thank you, Lew.”
Lew pivoted to the voice as he turned off the engine. Tibo’s mom.
Her eyes shone. “He really enjoyed that.” She looked at the kid. “Come on, Tibo.” Then gestured for him to climb down from the seat. He followed her direction.
“Tibo can stay.” Didn’t she see how much fun he was having?
“I think you’ve spoiled him enough.” She smiled to her son who was still bouncing with excitement.
“Let me take him one more time.” Why did he feel so alone suddenly?
Cassandra chuckled. “He’s ridden five times around with you since I’ve been watching. You don’t need to babysit him anymore. I still can’t believe my mother did that to you.”
“She didn’t make me. I asked.” Did she really think it was that Greta woman’s idea?
“Oh.” She looked incredulous. “Still, I’m gonna take him around to some other games for a while, but I promise I’ll bring him back.”
Lew scoffed. What would she do? Have the boy’s face painted like a puppy? Couldn’t she see all he wanted to do was ride? Lew could relate.
A shrill scream pierced the air. Lew swung his head to find Isabella, from Kat’s shop, trying to calm her six-year-old who was flapping his arms and wailing.
Cassandra tugged Tibo toward the two, then knelt eye-level with the boy. “Hi, Sean.”
His wails turned to whimpers as he seemed to take her in sideways.
Isabella stood silent. Tears trapped in her eyes—Lew could almost feel them. He studied the way Cassandra handled the boy, using a soft voice, like she tested what might upset him … or interest him.
Hmmm.
“Would you like to go on a hay ride?” Cassandra showed him the big trailer filled with bales.
He turned his head looking from the corners of his eyes. His lips straightened from their downward turn and he bounced, whimpers almost turning into a tune.
Lew decided to join them. “How ‘bout he ride with me up front?”
“Oh no.” Isabella’s Hispanic accent thickened. “He’d never stay still. He’d fall for sure.”
“I’ll take it real slow, and hold tight to the boy.”
Cassandra turned to Lew, a smile growing on her lips. “Let him try, Isabella. You could follow them just in case.”
Isabella looked between them.
Lew nodded. “I won’t go faster than you can walk, and we’ll just keep circling around. I bet he’ll like it.”
Her shoulders rose and fell. “Okay.”
Sean had pulled out of her grip and headed for the tractor before Lew even registered her agreement. “Whoa, little one. Wait for me.”
As he cranked the engine, the little boy in his arms shook. Lew feared he was having a seizure until the kid let out a joyous squeal. The other riders piled into the trailer, and Lew took another round through the parking lot. Sean felt stiff in his arms, very different from little Tibo, but Lew knew the grunts the boy made were his version of happiness.
Lew glanced to Isabella as she followed them, her face rigid with fear, softening as they slowed to stop. Sean bounced and patted the steering wheel, his straight lips twitching upward.
“Again?” Lew regretted asking out loud, realizing his mother didn’t look too thrilled.
She thrust her fists on her hips and gave a reluctant nod.
He mouthed the next words over Sean’s head. “You can stay here. We’ll be fine.”
Her shoulders tensed as though fighting the answer before she nodded again. Lew smiled. Small victory. Not just for Sean, but for Isabella.
Something about it felt really, really good.
~*~
“So what’s next?”
Sophie wilted at the playful look in Sky’s eyes. “I don’t know. What do you want to do?”
With his thumb, he touched the flower painted on her cheek. “The purple makes the blue in your eyes stand out.”
Oh boy, those willies could immobilize her. His smile turned serious as he dropped his hand from her face. His hot and cold behavior had made her crazy all day, and she couldn’t always blame it on the appearance of Pastor Vince.
She checked her watch. “Pastor Vince won’t be in the dunk tank for another twenty minutes.”
He looked at his flip-flops. “I don’t hate your Pastor, Soph. And I don’t think it’s a good idea to dunk him if I want to get on his good side.”
She laughed at the image. “Then what do you want to do?”
“Let’s take a break for a while.” He scanned around. “Maybe a little time by ourselves.”
She couldn’t help the fear that probably reached her eyes. Not so much of him as it was her response to him.
“Sophie, we won’t go too far.” He held his hands up. “I won’t even touch you.”
The look in his expression stung her. He must think she didn’t trust him anymore since he’d pushed her limits of temptation that night at the youth group.
He tilted his head, his expression somber. “C’mon Soph.” He toed a pebble on the asphalt, and nodded toward an isolated hill. “How ‘bout you sit over there. I’ll get us some sodas, and we can relax.”
“Okay.” Sophie watched him head to the concessions before she climbed the grass. She found a little place in the shade on the other side of some trees. The quiet, away from the crowds was nice.
Sky appeared with the drinks then handed her one. “Wait.” He looked between the two cups. “I think this one’s yours.”
She laughed. “Aren’t they both Colas?”
“Yeah, but I already drank out of one. Don’t want you gettin’ my spit.” His smile made her giggle.
Sophie sucked long and hard through the straw, letting the drink cool her from the inside out. She hadn’t realized how sweltering it was until just now. They’d been having so much fun, playing the games, watching Tibo on the tractor, and just laughing together. For some reason, she thought Sky needed something to pull him from darker thoughts. If only she knew what seemed to bug him all day long.
The heat must have gotten to her, because now she felt over-tired. The bright sun had been making her squint, giving her a headache. Maybe, finally having the moment to relax, her body was taking advantage of it.
Sky eyed her. “You okay, Soph?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, hardly able to keep her head up leaning against the tru
nk of a tree.
His brow crunched together. “Let me get you something to eat.” He stood. “Be right back.”
She waved him away and closed her eyes, feeling as though she floated with the birds in the breeze that wafted through her hair. Then somehow the airy feeling of drifting in the winds turned dark and heavy.
Too heavy to move.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Vince climbed onto the tank bench, ready to face the onslaught that threatened to take him down. Prepared for the attack, he wore his bathing suit, an old T-shirt, a snorkel mask, and flippers. The large group that gathered roared at the costume. Vince smiled and bowed. He knew how to gin up a crowd.
Ayo stepped up first, likely feeling his oats having bested Vince at hoops earlier. So, basketball wasn’t Vince’s game. Did the youth pastor need to bring him down another notch?
Ayo pitched the ball. It flew past the target.
“Whoa. Gettin’ a little tired there ole man?” Vince always knew how to goad the kid who barely looked old enough for his new bride.
Ayo squinted, tossing the ball in one hand, bouncing it off his bicep, and catching it.
“Well, aren’t you talented?”
Ayo wound up and missed again.
John lobbed him another ball. “One more makes three.”
Ayo pitched just as someone yelled in the distance. It flew off course and that was the end of that.
Vince lifted the snorkel mask. “D’you forget your glasses.”
Ayo grabbed another ball from John.
“Hey,” Vince called. “You’re only allowed three.”
Ayo pounded it into the palm of Vince’s best friend. Billy’s large hands consumed the ball as he grinned so big and mischievously Vince thought he’d melt right off the bench and into the water. “Take it easy on me, Billy. You know I love ya.”
Billy gathered two more balls from John and juggled them. The enlarging crowd oohed and ahhhhhedd at his extraordinary display.
“I forgot you were a circus clown once.”
The balls halted with a hard glare from the juggler. The crowd moaned. Vince sucked a short breath before the yellow streak hit the cage right near his face.
Vince sighed hard. Placing a palm to his chest, he used his best Shakespearian accent. “For the wrath of man worketh not the righteousness of God. James, chapter one, verse twenty.”
Billy’s chuckle bounced in his chest as his mustache took on an ominous tilt. He pitched again, barely missing the target. “There’s a force field around that thing or something.”
“Watch out, Billy.” Vince said around the snorkel now firmly in his mouth. “Your Star Trek is showing.”
Billy straightened to full height. His gaze narrowed on the target, then Vince. The muscle in his cheek twitched. As his attention moved back to the bull’s eye, his hands came together around the ball like a major league baseball player beginning a pitch. He pulled his arm back, stepped into the throw, eyes never leaving his objective. The ball released from his fingers and drove straight into the tank arm.
It didn’t budge.
Vince’s breath eased back into his lungs as he mouthed a thank you to the heavens.
“It’s rigged,” someone shouted from the crowd.
Cassandra strode over and belted the thing with her fist.
Vince grabbed the chicken wire and stood as the bench dropped, barely missing the fall.
“It works.” She shot Vince a sparkling eye, before taking her place in the crowd. “It just needs a little muscle.” She scanned the throngs and called, “Who’s got the muscle?”
“Let me at ‘im!”
“Mom?”
Vince sighed relief at the petite Mrs. Hessing who received the next round of balls from John. Only that look in her eye made him—
Thwat!
Her underhanded pitch, drove the ball into the target, sending Vince plunging to the depths.
John’s eyes gleamed when he turned them on a soaking Vince. “Guess you didn’t know Greta was the strike-out queen of fast-pitch softball back in the day.”
Vince shook the water from his ears.
“They called her Cannon Ball.”
Vince blew the water from his face. “No, John. I didn’t know that.” He landed his rear back on the bench and—
Thwat!
Glug, glug, glug.
Vince pulled the mask and snorkel off his face. They didn’t help anyhow. The crowd roared pleasure over Vince’s demise.
Mrs. Hessing eyed him with a glare that reeked of vengeance laced with a tinge of a smile. Vince sensed she needed this. He resettled on the bench, eyes locked with his accuser.
A look of satisfaction grew across her features as she tossed the ball up and down in one hand. When was she going to throw that last bomb? Vince’s heart raced with anticipation. Her Cheshire grin became even more malicious. She swiveled to bow to her raging fans, holding the final ball high above her head. The noise erupted as they shouted and cheered, banging tables and trash cans in a tribal beat.
Thwat!
Plunge!
Chlorinated water stung his nose and dripped down his throat. Vince hadn’t even seen her turn. He spit and spewed as the woman strode to the cage, a serious smile hard on her face. He could barely hear her voice over the chants of “Can-non-Ball, Can-non-Ball.” She spoke through the holes, “You are now forgiven, Vince Steegle.” Shoulders high, she waltzed away.
~*~
The sight of Vince emerging from the dunk tank dripping wet after that line of people plied their hands at immersing him, flooded memories into Cassandra’s mind that almost swept her away. They’d spent most of that summer together in bathing suits, swimming at the club or riding in his little boat.
His smile shone through the dark goatee that changed him from a boy to a man. The new Vince. Born again. Cassandra sighed hard as he closed in, rubbing his raven hair with a small towel.
He scanned the area. “Where’s Cannon Ball?”
Cassandra had seen her mother say something into the tank after she’d dunked him and wondered what it was. “She took Tibo home. He was getting a bit overstimulated.” Cassandra looked to her sandals. “She told me to ask you for a ride since my car is still in Billy’s shop.”
He rubbed at his face, a knowing grin astride it, but Cassandra could still hear the drip from his shorts. She didn’t think that small towel would do the job.
His eyes searched hers. “Your mom said she forgives me.”
Cassandra was glad for Vince, but it was clear there was more to that statement.
He stepped close enough he dripped on her shoes. “There’s no reason not to—”
“Have you seen Sophie?” Yes, it was a ruse to stop the upcoming question, but she really was getting a little worried. She’d scanned the crowd at the dunk tank, wanting to share in her mother’s triumph, but Sophie was nowhere to be found.
His expression turned. “Last I saw her, she was with Sky.”
Cassandra’s muscles tensed. “I haven’t seen him either.”
Kat jogged up and slapped Vince on the shoulder. Sprays of water spewed from the sleeve. She looked at Cassandra. “Wow, your mama still can throw.”
Vince chuckled. “Especially with the right incentive.”
Kat’s head tilted.
“I think the kids after her were inspired.”
“Have you seen Sophie, Kat.” Something began to niggle at Cassandra’s nerves. It wasn’t like her to disappear. She’d usually have asked to help with Tibo by now.
“No, but Amit’s got Sky pinned to the door inside the church, speaking Proverbs over him.”
“Where?” Sky, without Sopie? Something wasn’t right.
Kat pointed.
Vince grabbed Cassandra’s elbow. Apparently, he felt it too. His face tensed, he walked with force. They reached the church front steps and saw the back of Amit inside the glass doors. He appeared to be speaking to Sky. Sky looking trapped.
“The Lord
knows the thoughts of man; He knows that they are futile. That’s what it says in Psalm 94. Did you know that Sky?” Amit’s innocent voice belied the look in Sky’s eyes. “Blessed is the man you discipline, O Lord, the man you teach from your law; you grant him relief from days of trouble, till a pit is dug for the wicked.” His pronunciation was the clearest Cassandra had ever heard.
Sky put up his hands as if to stop Amit from encroaching farther into his personal space. “Um, okay.”
Amit’s voice deepened. “Who will rise up for me against the wicked? Who will take a stand for me against evildoers?”
Sky shook his head, his eyes pleading with Cassandra to extricate him. She’d need to get him away so she could find out what he knew about Sophie.
“Hey, Amit.” Vince’s gentle voice got the simple man’s attention. “I’d love to hear more Proverbs. Why don’t you take a walk with me?”
Amit followed as if chasing a shiny, red balloon floating through the air. Their voices diminished down the corridor as Cassandra pinned Sky herself.
“Where’s Sophie? I haven’t seen her in an hour?”
His eyes widened. “I was trying to find you to ask the same thing. She bugged out on me.”
“What?”
“We were sitting up by the trees, and I sensed Sophie might need something to eat. She looked a little tired. So I went to get her a hot dog, but when I came back, she was gone.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “At first I thought she’d come back, so I waited there. But when she didn’t I went looking for her.”
“Did you say something to upset her?”
“No ma’am.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. It’s just not like her.” She tapped her fingers on her thigh. “Can you show me where you were?”
“Sure.”
Vince strode up. Amit waved goodbye, smiling at his pastor. The man’s head bobbed as he disappeared out the door.
“We’re going to the trees where Sky last saw her. Vince, can you ask around?”
He nodded.
Sky led the way up the hill and rounded the line of trees. A soda cup sat perched beside a trunk as if waiting for someone to finish it. Cassandra’s cell rang.
Flee From Evil Page 18