Lucky's Girl
“What will you give?”
    A deep sigh passed out from the audience, it was pleasure, release, surrender.
    “What will you give to a man, torn and bloodied… a man who has given everything of himself, thinking only of others so that they may live and be happy?”
    In their minds that man was Jesus and Jesus was Lucky.
    “He’s given everything for you. What are you gonna do for him?”
    ***
    Abby squeezed the Rev’s hand as their son had stood up and walked over to the pulpit. Some of the girls in the audience had actually let out a little squeal, as if Mason was some kind of rock and roll music star. She’d seen this reaction to him over and over again. No matter where they went, Mason was the focus of every woman. Young and old, Mason would draw their gaze, and it wouldn’t fall until he was out of their sight.
    She noticed the Rev shoot her a bemused glance from the corner of his eye. He’d always thought this was funny, probably because women reacted to him in somewhat the same way. He would always handle it with such grace and humility, because he was modest and charming, but still larger than life.
    She wondered whether Mason truly had the modesty part down.
    He certainly acted like he had. There were times when she’d known their ministry wore on him. It would wear hard on anyone. It wasn’t an easy life, but he always pushed ahead, whether it would be teaching Sunday school, taking the Scouts camping, or dealing with the hard cases at the AA meeting.
    But sometimes…
    She’d seen a gleam in his eye she didn’t like.
    Like he was enjoying something she didn’t quite understand…
    Of course they should enjoy the ministry. And the hard parts? Well they needed to get through those even if they were taxing. However, Mason seemed to enjoy those the most. Things which made her and the Rev have to take time out to pray, to renew their resolve, appeared to make Mason stronger. He didn’t get drained… instead he got stronger. Counseling a wife with a black eye and a fat lip sometimes left her shaken and disheartened. Sometimes she would go and cry on her own. She knew that even the Rev would go out back sometimes to sit on the porch with a tear in his eye. She had seen it.
    But not Mason.
    She hadn’t seen him cry since being a toddler.
    She sighed. Why were these thoughts even coming?
    Look at him, just look at him. He might one day be the most successful evangelist the world has ever seen! And you’re judging his motives even though you can’t even describe what’s bothering you!
    ***
    Kenny felt the puke bubbling in his belly. The beers from the night before were burning in his stomach but that wasn’t the problem. The problem, his problem, was currently standing up on that stage, causing a mass hypnotic orgasm in every woman in attendance. And some of the men as well. He glanced up towards the front but kept having to look back down. Something was wrong, something was very wrong here, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.
    His uncle had told him that Mason shot animals with a pellet gun and then took them to Grove Island.

    So? So what? Hunting was a way of life here. Maybe… maybe he was burying them there for some reason.
    Maybe your uncle’s crazy. Have you ever considered that?

    That sounded like something Lucky would say, something Lucky would casually say with the contempt and spite invisible to Kenny up until very recently.
    His was a good life, a really good life. He had no mom or dad but didn’t care. He had his uncle, a real live war hero, and Lucky and his folks. Ever since he’d been able to remember his life had been filled with love even though he was poor. He’d never felt poor, he…
    Was he poor? What did that really mean?

    Okay, get a hold of yourself. Your uncle’s just mistaken is all. He’s not crazy, any more than Lucky’s evil. Lucky’s just Lucky. He’s just a different kind of guy.
    Kenny glanced up. The entire audience in the church released a big gooey

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