Reapers Are the Angels by Alden Bell Read Free Book Online Page A

She’ll have to move slowly. She stands and supports herself against the wall and makes it to the window and back to the bed—and for a few minutes she just walks back and forth between the window and the bed until her eyes start seeing straight and her head gets anchored to her body.
    Ruby comes in.
    You sure stirred the pot, Sarah Mary Williams. They’re out looking for you. Say they just want to ask you some questions and get to the bottom of things—but I don’t like the look in their eyes, some of them. I’ve seen it before.
    She opens the closet door and begins to sift through the clothes hanging there.
    They say you made a mess of that Abraham Todd.
    I wouldn’t of done it if—
    You don’t have to tell me. Those Todd boys have hearts as black as I’ve seen. God help you, I’m sure he deserved whatever you gave him. But now his brother Moses has you on his agenda, and that’s a man without an ounce of foolishness to distracthim from his set course. And that means we have to get you out of here. Put this on.
    Temple’s hand is throbbing now, so Ruby helps her take off her clothes and stuff them in the duffel bag.
    What happened to the bra we got you?
    Temple says nothing and raises her arms so Ruby can drape her in the yellow cotton sundress she has taken from her own closet. It has lace trim, and it itches against her skin.
    What’s this for? Temple asks.
    It’ll attract less attention. Everyone around here who’s not out hunting you is dressed up for services.
    Services?
    It’s Sunday, sweetie. That’s what we do on Sundays.
    It’s been a long time since Temple has distinguished between days of the week.
    Then Ruby scrubs Temple’s face with a washcloth and takes a hair clip and puts it between her lips and does something with Temple’s hair and then slips the clip in and locks it down.
    There now, Ruby says. Don’t you look nice.
    Temple looks into the mirror. There’s a soft pillowy girl looking back at her.
    I look like a muffin. Where do those men think I got to?
    They think you already left. They’re out looking for you in the streets. Apparently someone also broke into the armory last night.
    Ruby’s glance lands on Temple’s heavy duffel bag sitting by the door.
    I just took one or two is all.
    It’s all right, Sarah Mary. You’re going to need some help. I don’t like to think of it—you out there with all those things. I wish you could’ve stayed with us, but that Moses Todd isn’t going to let it happen. Come on, now. We just need to get you as far as the elevator.
    Temple uses her good hand to swing the duffel onto her shoulder while Ruby opens the door and glances up and down the hallway.
    Here we go.
    On the way to the elevator they pass one family, a man and a woman and a little boy, and they are talking about airplanes and how they stay up in the air and if the boy will ever see one in real life. Ruby and Temple smile and say good morning as they pass.
    They are alone in the elevator and Ruby presses a button that says P2 and when the door opens they are in a deserted parking garage packed with cars and Temple follows Ruby to the end of one of the rows where she stops behind a midsized Toyota with its taillight busted out.
    I can’t give you one of the nice ones, Ruby says. But it’ll be weeks before they notice this one’s missing. It runs, and it’s got a full tank, I checked already. Here, give me that.
    She takes the duffel from Temple and puts it on the passenger seat of the car.
    Now you listen to me, Ruby says, taking Temple by the shoulders and looking straight into her eyes. I know some nice people north of here about an hour. They’ll take care of you—tell them you know me. Just follow the signs for Williston and look for a gated compound off the freeway. You got that?
    I got it.
    You be careful, all right?
    Temple doesn’t know what to say, but the moment calls for something.
    You done a good thing here, she says. It’s an act of generosity that goes