Sunday was the one month anniversary of the solar storm, and for the first time since that event, Alexia had a reason to dress up a little. But she could dress up only a little because her trip into town with Reuben would be accomplished by riding the two bikes into town. So she settled with a pair of olive green slacks, a dark yellow tank top, and a pastel green blazer with rolled up sleeves. Her tan, canvas shoes were durable enough for peddling but more refined than tennis shoes.

Reuben wore his best jeans and a short-sleeved, button-down shirt with subtle green and purple stripes. She thought the green almost made them color coordinated, and commented that helped to make his old brown tennis shoes less conspicuous. None of her step-father’s shoes were big enough for him, so he had no other choice of footwear except his sandals and boots.

He did leave his shirt untucked in order to conceal the pistol.

With a box of supplies perched on the handlebars of each bike, it took less than an hour to make it into town. When they reached the church’s parking lot, Alexia noticed three other bicycles already stationed near the building. One car and one pickup, both older models that were in rough shape, were also present and probably used to help less mobile parishioners to travel. From Reuben’s description, she had some idea of what to expect when they carried the boxes into the church, but it was still distressing to see the result of the damage caused by the goons.

A lingering suggestion of cleaners underlay the fainter aroma of incense. The paintings that had once graced the walls were fainter and duller, and the statues of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph holding the infant were all gone. The crucifix that was rehung above the altar had cracks in it. There was neither a piano nor an organ. And all the formerly stained-glass windows had screening attached over them for now to allow light and a breeze.

Father Nick, clean-shaven again, cheerfully greeted them as did several other parish members, and an oft-repeated request as people trickled in was for anybody who had brought a firearm to surrender it for safekeeping until after the service. There were only a couple of dozen other persons also attending, and she determined that between the two Masses, after one accounted for the dead and wounded or sick, and those who lived too far from town, this was all who could make it this morning.

During the service, Reuben quietly blended in like he always did before. He stood and kneeled with the rest of the congregation, but didn’t make the sign of the cross or join in any of the responses and prayers other than the Lord’s Prayer. Nor did he accompany them with the songs they had to sing a cappella, but that was probably just because he was unfamiliar with the day’s selections. The one deviation from his usual conduct was actually accompanying her to the front of the church when the parishioners filed up to receive the Eucharist. He still crossed his arms over his chest to instead accept Father Nick’s blessing.

Instead of wafers, the host was actually pieces of homemade unleavened bread. She was a little surprised wine was still offered.

When the priest made his announcements at the end of the service, he wrapped up with a slightly different bit of news.

“And for those of you who haven’t heard already, most of the churches in town as well as our own are planning social gatherings this upcoming Friday evening. A fais do do, if you like. We’ve been mourning and we’ve been healing, but after that must come a time for Thanksgiving and celebration. A spirit of sharing has returned to the community, especially among our farming neighbors who have been as generous as they can spare. This will be a potluck spread, and anybody who can play an instrument is welcome to bring it and provide music to dance by.” He affected a more pronounced accent to say, “Dat’s how we Cajuns shake our fists at adversity, oui.”

The congregation chuckled slightly, and he continued. “We’ll begin around six o’clock, otherwise known as a couple of hours before sundown.”

After Mass the church became filled with the buzz of talking, and a member asked Alexia if both she and her mother would be able to make it to the social.

“I’d love to, but I really don’t know if that’s plausible,” she replied. “And it’ll probably still be too early for Mѐre to make that trip.”

“She’d want to come,” Reuben stated. “You know how your mom likes to shake her fist at anything.”

As they finished visiting and began walking back to the bicycles, her satisfaction of finally being able to do normal socializing again began to falter to a new realization.

“Do you think he knows about Friday night? That he might try to stage something while everybody else is otherwise occupied?”

“He? As in otherwise known as Brent Rayburn?”

“Who else would I be talking about? It sounds like something he would plan, doesn’t it? While everybody else is celebrating, we’ll have to go on high alert.”

He was silent for the rest of their walk to the bikes, but as he nudged the kickstand with his foot, he said, “I’m not so sure about that. Nighttime would be risky for him. We know the lay of the land and most likely he doesn’t.”

“I suppose that’s true. Everything that’s happened at home has been during the day. Well, even though we can’t make it, it’s nice to see how people are starting to rally.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Huh?” She glanced at him as they straddled their bicycles. “The nice part or the rally part?”

“The can’t make it part. At least, as long as your mom’s okay with it, I’d like to go.”

She stared at him and didn’t bother placing a foot on a pedal. “You want to go? I mean, of course you want to, but I thought … well, you’ve just always been a ‘duty before pleasure’ kind of guy.”

He returned her stare. “Within reason. And it could be I’ve had so much duty in the last month I’m feeling overdue for some pleasure. Besides, Passover begins tomorrow night, and it would be nice to attend some kind of public celebration during its season.”

Her own desire to attend swelled as she contemplated it might actually be possible. But there was still a lot that could happen between now and Friday, and everything still depended on her mother. She couldn’t let hopes get too high.

“You really think it’ll be safe?”

He looked thoughtful for a few seconds. “I do today.”

“You should both go.” Mѐre nodded as she sliced some yellow squash for dinner.

Alexia couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. They still hadn’t told her mom about her outburst the night of the battle, and she wondered if they had, would Mѐre’s response be different. Reuben had only mentioned his idea about going, and now her mother volunteered that she should go as well.

Something still didn’t seem quite right.

“Don’t suppose there’s any chance you’d feel up to it?” he asked.

“I doubt it. Oh, it sounds wonderful. It would be nice to get away from here and actually relax and have some fun.” She looked pointedly at them. “Which is why both of you should go.”

“You sure it would be safe?” She was surprised by her own hesitation. “I told Rube I thought it might be an invitation for our mystery man to come back.”

Mѐre stopped slicing for a few seconds and stared at the squash in her hand. She seemed to regard it as though she had just glimpsed a bad spot that now eluded her. Then she resumed her work.

“I’m sure it would be safe for you to go. There won’t be any battles and gunfire for anybody to hide behind this time.”

“It’s you I’m worried about. Maybe we’re leaving you alone too often. Rube knows enough people at church now I’m sure it would be fine for him to go by himself and I should stay here with you.”

Mѐre stopped slicing again and raised her gaze to Alexia’s. “Don’t you want to go?”

“I’d like to go, but I’d feel better if I stayed with you.”

Reuben spoke up. “Duty before pleasure.”

Her mother’s exhale was exasperated, and then she cringed slightly. She quickly recovered, however, and regarded Alexia calmly.

“If Reuben thought another attack was actually feasible, he wouldn’t be eager to leave. And I agree. Again, heading into town or staying here have the same level of risk. But you’ll be with him, so you should be all right. I want you to go into town and have some fun. Lord knows both of you deserve it.”

She glanced at Reuben, who seemed to be regarding the two of them thoughtfully. Well, he and her mom had a point. If those two believed it would be secure enough for Mѐre to spend an evening alone, then it must be so. They weren’t the type to take that kind of chance.

The part of her that wanted to go was happy. The concerned part of her still wondered why her mother’s attitude seemed to have changed.

“All right.” She shrugged. “If nothing happens before Friday, I’ll go.”

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