Upside Down

85

Passing under a banner proclaiming a “Bible bee,” Winter went into the Church of Christ in Barataria, Louisiana. He declined a program sheet offered by a man in a knit shirt with winglike collars and entered into the sanctuary, stopping at the top of the wide center aisle.

On the riser, teenagers sat in rows of folding chairs. A skinny girl with frizzy red hair stood at the pulpit. “Armageddon,” she said into the microphone. “A-r-m-a-g-e-d-d-o-n. Armageddon.”

“That… is correct,” a voice announced.

Someone in the audience shouted out, “Praise His holy name!”

The girl raised her hands in the air in triumph.

A camera flashed.

The crowd applauded.

Winter recognized the skinny, short-haired boy with a bruised cheek who walked briskly toward him from the back corner of the santuary. Faith Ann grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. Outside the front door Faith Ann looked up at him, her lower lip quivering.

“It's going to be all right,” Winter said, putting his arms around her. “I'm here, Faith Ann. Everything is going to be fine.”

He felt the sobs wrack her thin body. He understood that it would be a while before she'd be able to speak. He knew what sort of relief she was feeling, because he shared it. It was almost over.