III.
The baby next to the downed preacher rolled onto its stomach. It no longer
looked like a newborn. It smiled and began crawling toward Miss Carriage.
With each step, it grew larger. The child rose to its feet and started
walking.
“Mom,” the child said.
Everyone stopped. Luke, Jesus, the preachers, the exiles, even the people
on the street. All eyes were on the child approaching Miss Carriage.
“I hate when this happens,” she muttered. She’d been through this before.
The first time was hard. Now, it barely fazed her.
The child, now a teenager, stood behind his mother.
Jimmy Summers blew a kiss toward the two remaining preachers.
“Oh my God,” the one on the left said. “The gay one blew me a kiss.”
“It’s okay,” the other replied. “Let’s just finish the job.”
“Oh, oh, oh,” the first preacher jumped around the street. “What if he
gave me the gay?”
“Just stop,” the other said.
“I can feel it. I can feel it,” the first preacher whined. “I think I’m in
love with you, Barry.”
The second preacher, Barry froze.
“Showering next to you after a long shift is the highlight of my day,” the