Godshot by Chelsea Bieker

Author:Chelsea Bieker
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781948226493
Publisher: Catapult
Published: 2020-01-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

December. The sky grainy, begging for rain. The smoke from the fires had drifted out to the ocean by now but I swore I could still smell it. The local news reported that temperatures in Peaches had reached record highs while in neighboring towns, mere miles away, there were cool downs, tule fog covers, low visibility on the highways. Kerman soil was said to be moist and Fresno itself was chilly enough for a light jacket if you were going to walk down Christmas Tree Lane in the evening, but Peaches remained a desert wasteland. This was further proof that we were being tested, punished even, for something grave. But how could it be, everyone wondered, when the town was made up of such fine believers, when we honored God certainly more than the people of the city? It was by this I knew something beyond human understanding was at work. I couldn’t feel God’s love for me now, and I couldn’t feel His destiny, but something supernatural was boxing us in this eternal summer and it was why I couldn’t let go of my faith completely, even if I wanted to, even if it would have been easier. All I had to do was feel the heat bear down, burning an endless dryness into my body. No man could accomplish something like that.

I sat on the floor in front of the television while Cherry sewed exercise clothes for the chinchillas. The news segment showed a fat Santa handing out candy canes to a mass of people. “You ever walked down Christmas Tree Lane?” I asked her.

Cherry grunted. “There’s a house there that hands out hot cocoa for free,” she said. “All those rich people with the most beautiful lights. That lane is the best thing about Fresno. Only neighborhood worth seeing, you ask me.”

“I wish I could see it.”

“Santa and elves parading around like they’re the reason for the season,” she said. “All these infidels decorating their houses like chumps over a holiday they don’t even believe in. It’s Christ’s birthday party, for God’s sake. Set out a damn cake and light some birthday candles if you need to celebrate so bad.”

“Sounds kind of fun,” I said, sucking my stomach in. It was pushing out more now, harder to hide. Earlier I’d tried on one of Cherry’s old sweaters from the back of the craft room closet and my skin rashed and itched and my sweat poured under it. I had taken it off within minutes. I dreaded when my body would betray me, when there would be no hiding what had happened in that rainless stretch of summer. I’d fixed it, though, with Stringy, and now I needed Cherry on board.

“I’ve got to tell you something,” I said to her.

She turned down the TV. “That’s the tone of a bad girly done wrong.” Her lips thinned, she closed her eyes. She stayed still to receive God’s premonition, lifted a hand to catch it from the air.

“Stand in

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