Chapter 105

“But if you’ve got to go, then I want you to promise me something,” I said after a long pause. “I want you to promise that you won’t forget us. I know, I know, you’ll be up there polishing Jesus’s halo or sitting on a cloud or maybe he’ll put you in charge of the fairy dust or something, but I want you to promise me that you’re not going to forget about us when you get up there. Because we’re not going to forget about you, Little T. Not for a minute. And don’t you ever think we will.”

Beep…beep…beep…95: My Name Is Father James

I rested my head against the railing of the bed for what seemed only a moment or two but must have been longer, because suddenly I was aware of someone prodding my shoulder.

“Mr. Cantrell?”

My eyes fluttered open.

“My name is Father James,” the man said. “I don’t mean to intrude.”