oak. Glass lamps hung down from the ceiling over the center aisle.
Upon hearing the opening notes of the closing hymn, Reverend Steven Andrews gave his customary sigh of relief. He silently thanked God for letting him live through another sermon without throwing up on the pulpit. After six years as a church pastor, the young reverend still got stage fright before giving his sermons.
While he played the keyboard, music director, Tad McMillan, tried in vain to get the pastor’s attention.
Reverend Andrews was unaware of the choir’s gaze at the back of his head. At the close of the hymn, he lifted his arms up towards the ceiling. “And now, may the Lord go forth with you and be with you. Amen.” Instead of going forth, the congregation looked up at their pastor. A murmur rose from within the sanctuary. Reverend Andrews turned to Tad, who hissed, “You for-got the offering.”
Laughter rippled throughout the church while the ushers rushed down the aisle, grabbed the offering plates, and passed them to the pews. Joshua fought to not chuckle while he dropped a check into the plate.
When he turned around in his seat to hand the plate to the family in the pew behind him, he noticed a girl dressed in a skimpy shirt with baggy pants slung so low on her bony hips that it was a mystery as to how they kept from falling down to her ankles. Her poker-straight hair, bluntly cut at her jaw, was the color of a new copper penny.
The girl dressed in black had come in at the back of the church and made her way down the aisle at the far side of the sanctuary.
The father of teenagers, Joshua thought he was incapable of being shocked by anything done in the name of fashion. He realized that his assumption was wrong when he laid his eyes on the girl making her way to the altar.
Joshua saw under her midriff top the scales of a black snake tattoo draped across her stomach. The snake wrapped itself around her body, up her back, over her right shoulder, and across the front of her throat. The serpent’s head, his mouth open in mid-strike, rested on her left shoulder.
His concentration directed at the song he was playing on the keyboard, Tad didn’t notice her glassy gaze fixed on him.
The girl with the snake caused a stir amongst the congregation. All eyes were fixed on the visitor.
Was she going up to the pulpit to plead for the reverend to save her from the serpent that had taken control of her body?
Joshua saw beyond the body art to notice her hand in her shoulder bag as she moved in the direction of his cousin. A family consisting of three generations took up the pew between him and the girl with the snake. He didn’t have time to go around them.
“Excuse me,” he said repeatedly while squeezing his way in front of the seven people blocking his path.
The grandmother with a purple hat perched on top of her gray head sputtered when she lost her balance and landed on her rump in the pew. “Joshua Thornton, didn’t they teach you manners at that academy? I never.”
He recalled when the elderly woman had once complained to his grandmother about him being “mouthy”.
The girl pulled her hand out of the bag to reveal a hand-gun. She aimed it at Tad.
“She has a gun!” Tad took the pastor down onto the floor in a full body slam.
Joshua heard the roar of the congregation in his ears when he dove like a player racing for home plate. In midair, he caught her arm and thrust the gun towards the ceiling.
When they hit the floor, the bullet discharged from the barrel and struck one of the hanging lamps to send a shower of glass down onto the congregation. The bullet flew upward until it planted itself into one of the oak panels high above them.
The congregation scattered. Their screams bounced off the wooden interior around them until it built to a crescendo. The men sheltered the women who grabbed their children.
At the foot of the altar, the man and girl, screaming like a wild animal, wrestled for the weapon.
While
Learning to Kill: Stories