Page 87 of Brimstone Hollow

“I tried to tell her it might be hypnagogia,” I say.

“What—Hold on. What are you saying?” Zelda says, pulling me to a stop.

I realize that, in the dark, walking side by side, she can’t pick up any extra cues from me, and the wordhypnagogiahas thrown her for a loop. I maneuver both of us into a patch of light where she can see my lips moving and say, “Crystal’s visions? I think she has some kind of sleep disorder. Like post-sleep hallucinations. It’s called hypnagogia.”

“Oh,” Zelda says with a smirk. “I’m sure she didn’t like that. She’s pretty convinced she has magic angel fairy powers. But I bet you’re right. I think if she had a vision about Ezra, it had more to do with her subconscious making her feel guilty about her little crush.”

“She told me about that,” I say. “But she said neither she nor Ezra ever acted on it. Do you think she was lying?”

Zelda purses her lips to the side, considering, before she says, “She’s been dating Dean off and on foryears. Since they were kids. But Frankie told me she saw Crystal and Ezra out in the parking lot together.”

“When?”

“Last week?” Zelda says. “I think it was after Ezra’s Wednesday night service. We usually get a big church crowd midweek and I’m pretty sure it was that night.”

“What were they doing?” I ask. Then, when Zelda gives me a pitying look, I realize what she’s talking about.

“You mean they were—”

Zelda shrugs. “Frankie said he was holding her close, rubbing her back. She said it lookedsexual.”

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me before?”

Zelda scratches at her nose and then shakes her head and says, “I didn’t see it for myself. Frankie’s the worst gossip in town and you can’t believe half of what she says. For all everyone gives Crystal hell about making shit up for attention, Frankie’s way worse. She’s just not as obvious so she never gets caught.”

“Do you think she made it up about Crystal and Ezra?”

Though, thinking about the way Crystal had dodged my questions about Ezra hitting on her, I sort of doubt it. Zelda squints past me, up the hill, toward the disappearing crowd.

“I don’t know,” she finally says. “I wouldn’t put it past her, I guess.”

“But why?” I say. “Just to stir the pot? Why do that to the woman she works with?”

With a sniff, Zelda says, “Frankie hates how Crystal’s always getting out of work, always getting bigger tips despite folks saying she’s crazy, always breaking up and getting back together with Dean. And Frankie is—or was—inlovewith Dean. Don’t ask me why. But she wasalwaysangling to get with him. Breaking Crystal and Dean up would’ve been the first step.”

“Wait, did Crystal and Dean break up againrecently?”

“Wednesday,” Zelda says. “The night Frankie saw them. I assumed she’d told him.”

“This past Wednesday?” I ask, just to be sure.

“Yeah. He came in to see Crystal while she was on shift and then, next thing I know, they’re out in the parking lot having a screaming fight. Then he left and she spent the whole rest of the night crying.”

I put the events in order in my head. Frankie supposedly sees Crystal and Ezra in the parking lot. Dean comes in later that night and they break up. And the very next day Crystal gets a report of Dean driving out toward Joel Shepherd’s house.

Zelda turns back toward the crowd and resumes walking. I fall in step beside her as the strains of “Amazing Grace” die away and are replaced by another, all too familiar, refrain.

There is a fountain filled with blood

Drawn from Immanuel’s veins;

And sinners, plunged beneath that flood,

Lose all their guilty stains…

I picture the clothesline again.

Ezra King and Joel Shepherd at either end.