Night Prayers (19 page)

Luci turned as Gypsy opened the door, and kissed Allison full on the mouth.

"That's for helping with him last night. Thanks. He should do real well until the next one."

Allison fought the need to wipe Luci's kiss off her lips by sticking her hands into her back pockets.

"You got someone in mind?" she asked, just to have something to say.

"Never know, Alley-cat. Come on… the day's getting away from us." Nodding to Gypsy, Luci tucked Allison's arm through hers. "Don't worry, sweet-cakes, you'll catch on. It'll just take a little time."

Oh yeah, Allison thought as she followed Luci out of the store room hidey-hole, every day and every way… I'll get better and better.

"… like you were blind. Only by allowing yourself to witness the true miracles of our Lord, Jesus…
CHRIST
—
"

Mica's stack of Open Your Eyes to HIS Light pamphlets — printed on the old fashioned ink-drum copier in his trailer — slipped out of his suddenly numb hands.

Stumbling up the driveway after leaving his landlady, all Mica had thought about was the couple of hours of sleep he'd get before hitting the streets and saving souls. When he splashed himself with handfuls of luke-warm water from the cistern on the trailer's roof, all Mica thought about was putting his brain on hold and letting Angels sing him to his rest.

But when he laid down all he saw was her face.

Allison.

And the next four hours alternated between tossing and turning and praying and pacing and begging and finally hating himself for masturbating into the tiny chemical toilet while her face danced behind his closed eyes like a dream that wouldn't fade.

Like a nightmare.

And now, suddenly, there she was.

Reality in dark glasses. Standing near the curb. Smiling.

Allison.

It took Mica another minute to realize she wasn't alone. Luci, also in
sun-glasses against the summer glare, waved and pointed down. He thought —
knew
— she was pointing at the swelling in his pants… until he looked down and saw the scattered pamphlets. One had fallen open to the crudely drawn cartoon Mica had done of a man holding a bottle in one hand and an overly voluptuous woman in the other. The bold faced caption read: "How much are you REALLY willing to risk your soul on?"

Mica gave Allison one last glance before bending down to collect his self-published guide to Salvation.

Yeah, Lord… how much? Anyone ever have the nerve to tell You that You don't play fair?

"Well, well, well," Luci said as she and Allison reached his side, "out saving souls before noon after having been up all night. Now
that's
dedication. I'm impressed, Preacher-boy."

Mica stood up and attempted to fumble the pamphlets back into some sort of order while trying not to look directly at the two women.

"Luci… Allison. You're up pretty early yourselves." When the pamphlets proved to be more of a hassle than they were worth, Mica bunched them into his small nylon daypack and grabbed the worn zipper tab. All this without looking up. "Considering the party was just getting started when I left."

"Ah, well you know entertainers," Luci said, "we have this
marvelous
liquid high protein diet. You really should try it."

It was a joke — Mica could tell that by the way Allison suddenly giggled.
Well, at least they're happy, Lord. But help me to show them what REAL Happiness is
.

Allison's face shifted back into neutral when Mica finally looked up. If it hadn't been for the way her nose twitched he would have thought she'd been carved from white marble.

"Hope your cold's doing better. It could get. real serious if —
Shit
!" While he was busy being polite he'd managed to snag the hem of
his Jesus is my BEST Friend
tee-shirt into the daypack's zipper. "I'm sorry… I
—sometimes my tongue gets away from me."

Luci's laughter sent shivers up Mica's spine. Allison didn't so much as crack a smile.

"Right. You'll have to watch this one, Alley-cat. I bet he says that to
all the
girls."

Even though he couldn't see them through the heavily smoked lenses, Mica could feel their eyes burning into him.

"We were just out window shopping," Luci said as she reached out and brushed Allison's hair away from her face. "Doesn't she have beautiful hair, Preacher-boy?"

"Beautiful," he heard himself answer. It was just like the night before. When he was talking to Gina about… about…

"What color would you call it, Preacher-boy?" Luci asked — stepping to one side until all Mica could see was Allison. "
'Red
sounds too ordinary. What do you think?"

Piper's face looked back at him.

"Autumn leaves," he said, "at sunset. Her hair was that color."

"
Was
?" Luci gasped. "You mean it's not?"

Mica blinked and saw Allison. Allison. Not Piper. Piper was long gone — somewhere back in another life. Back when he made the mistake of thinking he could love a mere mortal more than he could Love God.

Allison's sneeze brought him back to the present tense.

"Bless y — Sorry." Mica yanked his shirt free and slung the bag over his shoulder. "You know, you might want to see a doctor if that doesn't get any better. Might turn into something serious."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it," Luci said as she walked up to him and took his hand. "Maybe our little red haired Alley-cat is allergic to something. Or maybe she just
thinks
she is."

Then, without any warning, Luci stood on her tip-toes and pressed her lips against Micas. Had the kiss happened any other time it would have had him on his knees.

Praying.

Any other time, if Allison hadn't been standing there watching, he would have wondered why Luci's lips were so cold.

Any other time, Lord.

"Well," Luci said, bumping her hip —
accidentally
— against Mica's, "I don't know about you two, but I sure could use something to drink."

"Luci…!"

Despite the emotion (Fear? Anger?) in that single word, Allison's voice was as sultry as Mica remembered it from the night before.

"Oh, hush, Alley-cat," Luci said, lacing her arm through Mica's. "I'm just
dying
for a good cup of coffee. How about you, Preacher-boy? Hasn't a full morning of pious devotion dried out the old tonsils?"
bump bump
"So how 'bout it? My treat."

Mica had never seen Luci act like that before — and didn't mind one bit. Maybe she was trying to make Allison jealous. Part of him hoped so… and was ashamed.

Within reason, Lord.

"Well, sure…"

"No, Luci," Allison interrupted, "it's okay. I'm
not
really thirsty. Honest,
Luci
."

Luci leaned against him — as cold as a high mountain spring — and sighed. Allison looked as nervous as a penitent facing her first dunking. Poor little thing.

Lord, it's going to be up to both of Us to help this poor child. To set her

feet back towards the Glory Everlasting and Life Eternal.

Allison sneezed.

Bless her, Lord.

Then growled.

"Coffee sounds good to me," Mica said as he tried to ease his arm out of Luci's cool grasp — without any luck. "But only if you let me pay for it."

Luci brushed her head against his chest. "You can pay for whatever you want, Preacher-boy.
Anything
."

An image of the three of them — naked, sweating, squirming like snakes on a giant unmade bed
— instantly redirected all the blood that had been pooling in his cock back up into his cheeks.

Where it belonged.

"Now
I'm
sorry," Luci said, giggling, yanking him into a slow walk and heading south. "What must you
think
of me?"

Mica glanced over his shoulder to see if Allison was following. And smiled. He could tell she wasn't thrilled about being a tag-along, but she was coming.

"I think of you… of
all
of you as lost lambs who've just slipped the fence and need a little help getting back into the fold."

Allison bleated. And he burst out laughing.
Could have been worse, Lord… she could have told me to go to hell
.

We'll get her yet.

"Baaah."

"Now
that
gives me an idea," Luci said as she picked up the pace. "What do you think if Allison and I wore these little lamb outfits and sheared each other on stage? Think it would work, Preacher-boy? How 'bout it, Alley-cat?"

This time the
baaah
had teeth in it.

A werewolf in sheep's clothing.

Smiling — trying hard
not
to think about what they'd look like — Mica let Luci drag him down Vine and began humming "Jesus, Lamb of God".

Allison sneezed.

Allison watched a "no-see-um" do the backstroke across the surface scum of her cup of Cafe au'Laite and wrinkled her nose. There wasn't even enough blood in the insect to make her want to drink it.

Straightening her arm, Allison emptied the cup all over Cecil B. De Mille. The coffee ran down the sides of the weather grey marble like a bad case of diarrhea.

"You didn't like it?" Mica asked.

Allison tossed the cup into a rusted wire litter basket (circa 1932) and turned around
— concentrating on not sneezing. The Preacher-boy was standing next to Mrs. De Mille's monument, his own cup of coffee stopped just below the narrow point of his chin.

"A bug got in it," she said. "Ugh."

"Oh. Well, you can have mine if you like," he started around the graves, holding his cup out to her. It was all Allison could do to control the burning itch racing along her sinuses. The morning had already gone
so well
she was afraid another "sneeze-blessing" would finish her completely.

"NO! No, that's okay." Taking a step backwards, Allison patted her belly and smiled. "I'm really still full from last night. But thanks anyway."

He nodded and lowered the cup without taking a drink. "Yeah, I guess it's kind of hard eating so late."

"I'm getting used to it."

He nodded and she nodded. He looked out over the cemetery and she looked out over the cemetery. He took a deep breath and she looked out over the cemetery.

It had been Luci's idea — just like the coffee — to pay a visit to the world famous Hollywood Cemetery and she wouldn't take no for an answer… despite the obvious lack of enthusiasm from
both
her captive traveling companions.

"Sooooo…" Allison said, "come here often?"

"Yeah. As a matter of fact, I do."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

A shallow blush worked its way up his throat and into the hollows just below his eyes. Allison couldn't help watching the slow filling of tiny blood vessels any more than she could stop her stomach from grumbling or her mouth from watering.

Holy man or not, he looked good enough to eat.

Allison swallowed and casually folded her arms across her chest. "Why?"

The Preacher-Man's face darkened — and it had nothing to do with the fact that he suddenly turned and walked beneath a drooping cypress limb. Allison tried to listen in on his thoughts the way she could with Luci and the other…
women
, but all she got were jumbled words and phrases: