IX.
“She likes you,” the puppet said.
“Who?” Luke asked as he walked toward the entrance of the church.
“Samantha,” the puppet replied. “I have a sense for these things. We could
go back and get her phone number.”
“I don’t see how dating someone with you on my arm would work,” Luke said.
“How would, you know, being intimate work?”
“Ha!” the puppet laughed. “Well, you’d have to be laying on your back.
She’d be riding you. For me, just turn on the TV and put on Golden Girls.
I’ll zone out.”
“You watch Golden Girls?” Luke asked, pushing the front door open.
“Of course I do,” the puppet responded.
The sun was brighter than it had been when they entered the church. The
air felt cleaner. Luke descended the first two concrete steps. Something
hard slammed into the back of his head.
He tumbled down the rest of the steps and landed on the sidewalk. Blood
filled his mouth. He spat out blood and ran his tongue along his teeth. A
few molars were loose. Great, he thought. His job didn’t come with dental
insurance.
He looked up. Four preachers in black riot gear approached. Each had a
gold cross emblazoned on their chest.