Page 58 of Look for Me

“I don’t know, to be honest. I went to Key Largo after I found out what happened to Gail…” He pursed his lips, but Martin could see his chin tremble a bit in the morning light.

“What happened to her?” Martin asked quietly.

Flavian described the assault in the dark lane in some detail that Martin didn’t think he needed to hear. He went on to talk about hiring someone to kill the rapist who had defiled his ex-girlfriend, and then stationing Slam and Slime to watch over Gail until now.

He was on his way home to Las Vegas when he was carjacked. Next thing he knew, he was in this prison.

“Carjacked? Cor—Dinah—Gail was also carjacked.”

“If it works, why change the method?” Flavian pointed his plastic spoon at Martin. “You want to eat your breakfast? I don’t mind having seconds.”

Not knowing when he might be allowed to eat again, Martin declined the offer. He bowed his head and thanked God for the food. He wondered if this had been how Joseph felt after he had been thrown into prison in Egypt. The Bible story from Genesis was one of his favorites.

Then he prayed for Corinne, Dahlia, Pete, Angelina, the police, the FBI, Tanaka, Corinne, Dahlia, whatshisname over there, Dad, Tina and her husband, Corinne, Corinne, Corinne…

His prayer was all over the place.

When he opened his eyes, his food was still in the bowl. He forgot for a moment that there was not a chance Flavian could crawl his way to grab the bowl out of his hand.

“I thought you fell asleep,” Flavian said.

“I was praying. Talking to God.”

“Ah, God. If there’s a God, why are we still in prison?” Flavian asked.

“I don’t know.”

Flavian tried to change position and winced.

“You need a doctor,” Martin said.

“I need a priest. Last rites and whatever you call it.” Flavian made hissing sounds through his gritted teeth.

“I wouldn’t know about that.” Martin ate up. It tasted like bits and pieces of soggy cardboard stirred into dirty water.

“Huh?”

“My church doesn’t do last rites.”

“What kind of church is that?”

“We believe that when we Christians die, we go straight to heaven to be with Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior,” Martin explained.

“Just like that?”

Martin nodded. “II Corinthians 5:8 says, ‘We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.’ My ticket to heaven has been bought and paid for by Jesus Christ. You believe?”

“Nah. Fairy tales.”

“When you see God, it’ll be too late, man.”

“I’m my own god.”

“Sure. And here you are.” Martin put down the bowl. The plastic spoon clattered in it. It was so flimsy there was no way he could turn it into a weapon so they could stab their way out of here.

Maybe the next stop for him was really heaven.

Martin prayed that God would take care of his family and Corinne’s family too if he didn’t make it out of here.

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