Hailstone (8 page)

“Legal drugs,” she said though clenched teeth. “I’m thirty years old. I have a right to use prescription drugs without his say so. Especially when they prevent me from being a complete psychological basket case.”

“I know what goes on in your family,” he said. “The whole
Congregation does. If you’d just put yourself in Preacher’s hands, things could be so much easier.”

Magda tilted her head and looked at the man. He was younger than her, fresh-faced, not long out of police school. Preacher actively encouraged the young men of the Congregation into the academy. She thought maybe she understood why. “Preacher’s hands?” she said. “Do you have any idea what’s waiting for me at Preacher’s hands when I get home?”

“We must all face the consequences of our actions.”

“And when I turn up to church on Sunday covered in bruises and you all mutter about how clumsy I am, what then?” Magda unclenched her teeth and moved away from him.
“You’re all the same. Get on with it. I’d rather be home waiting for Preacher to hit me a few more times than talking to a gutless, brainwashed idiot like you.”

The boy stared at her for a few minutes. He slowly put the pills into her bag. “I’ll tell him you cooperated with us,” he said.

Magda took a deep breath. “Thank you. I’m sorry I insulted you.”

He handed her her bag and pointed at the door.

Magda shouldered it and walked out slowly. Preacher waited in the reception room. He said nothing, just jerked his head at the door. She followed him silently out onto the road and got into the car.

Only when they’d turned onto the highway did he speak. “I’m sorry, Magdalene,” he said. “I feel like I’ve failed you. I’ve been blind to your true situation.”

“Oh?” she looked at him sidelong.

“My first mistake was in allowing you to marry such a depraved man. I should have seen the signs. Ten years in his company has corrupted you. And I have to remind myself that you are only a woman, and prey to all manner of temptation.
Spending time with your new friend the sodomite has led you down a path of evil.”

Magda flinched, but knew better than to defend Adam right now. She clenched her teeth. The back of her temples throbbed.

“A woman should not be without a husband,” he continued. “So we’ll have to find you a new one. One who will give you the proper guidance.”

“I think it takes a year to get a divorce, Preacher,” she said.

“Nonsense. We can find a way around that. God’s law takes precedence over man’s. It’s a pity the mayor is married, he’d make you a fine husband.”

Magda clenched her hands around the car seat. Her nails made little holes in the leather. “Gosh darn,” she said. She wanted to throw up on him.

Preacher turned off the highway and navigated the few remaining streets to the church. “I’ve failed you, and it won’t happen again,” he said. “This I pledge to you, as God is my witness.” He pulled into her driveway and left the engine running. “Go inside. Don’t go out again today, I’ll be around to see you later. I have some things to arrange. I suggest you spend your time praying God for guidance and forgiveness for attending that Satanic rally today. His light will guide you back to us.”

Magda slid out of the car and went inside without looking back. She leaned against the door until she heard his car leave. Then she gave vent to a ragged scream.

The house echoed.

Magda went into the kitchen. She locked the door behind her and found a bottle of vodka, which she used to wash down two more valiums. The harshness of the liquor didn’t even register; she swallowed down half the bottle. Then she sat on the kitchen table and swayed. There were two sinks. When she put one hand in front of her eyes, she had ten fingers. Wow, two of everything. Just like there’d be two husbands, if Preacher had his way, the sick old bastard. She had another drink.

“I fucking hate you!” she screamed at the kitchen window. She hurled the bottle at the glass and both smashed. Vodka exploded over the sink.

Magda smiled at the noise. Then she fell forward on the kitchen table.

*

It was dark outside when Magda opened her eyes. Cold air blew in from the broken kitchen window. She groaned and shifted, but lying on the kitchen table wasn’t going to get any more comfortable. Maybe she should go to bed.

She lifted herself up. There. She wasn’t so drunk; she could sit up at least.

Magda took a deep breath, then raced to the bathroom and threw up into the toilet.

After that she felt better. Drunk but not sick, and no longer needing to be unconscious. She washed her face and drank some water. Had Preacher said he was coming back tonight? With any luck she’d missed him already. She wanted to go to Pantheon and find Adam and have some fun.

Mind made up, Magda went to her room and dug out the dress and boots. She put them on, did her hair and put on some makeup. When she looked in the mirror she didn’t look drunk at all. She looked hot. She blew herself a kiss, grabbed her bag and keys, threw on a wrap against the cold and headed out.

She stopped at the front door and took a few steps back. Preacher stood there with his key poised at the lock. She recognised Zack Pitt behind him. She kept her face carefully blank. She hated Zack. Why was he here?

Preacher looked her up and down. Magda tightened the wrap around herself to hide the dress, but nothing could hide her bare legs or makeup.

“Looks like we arrived none too soon,” Preacher said.

Magda took a few more steps back. Preacher and Zack walked into her house like they owned it.

“I’ve found the solution to all your problems, Magdalene,” Preacher said. He flicked on the hall light. His silver hair gleamed. Zack looked at her as if she had no clothes on.

“Oh?” her voice was flat. She hoped his solution was to get in his car and crash it into a brick wall.

“I promised you I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Zack is a fine man. He has a steady job and unwavering faith in God. He will make you an honourable Christian husband.”

“I don’t want to marry Zack.”

Preacher and Zack glanced at each other, like they’d been expecting this. It was an almost indulgent look.

“Magdalene, I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. It’s for your own good. Look at you, you’re out of control.” Preacher reached out and ripped the wrap away from her. “Where did you think you were going, dressed like a whore? I’ve already signed the house over to Zack. You’ll be married as soon as possible. You’ll thank me when you see the error of your ways.”

Magda rubbed her throbbing head. “What do you mean you signed over the house? With John gone, it’s my house. Mine. You can’t sign it away.”

“Don’t be stupid. What would a woman do with a house?”

Magda shook her head. Her hands trembled. “There’s no reasoning with you people. Read my lips, Preacher. I’m not marrying him.” Amazed at her own drunken courage, she shouldered Preacher aside and headed for the door.

“Zack,” Preacher said.

Zack barred the door. He was younger than John, much closer to her own age, but that didn’t make him any less unappealing. “Magdalene, please,” he said. “Just give me a chance. I know we could be happy.”

“Get out of my way,” she said.

“Magdalene I could help you.”

“Help me what? Grow a brain tumour?”
She slid her ignition key between her index and middle finger and used it to punch him in the gut as hard as she could.

Zack doubled over. Magda pushed past him and stumbled toward her car.

“Magdalene get back here!” Preacher roared.

Magda unlocked her car and threw her bag in. “Go fuck yourself!” she screamed. “Both of you! I’m not getting married again and there’s nothing you can do to make me!”

Preacher stormed across the lawn. His fist was raised before he even got close, but Magda ducked it. He dented her car door instead of her face.

“You can pay for that,” she said. She reached into her bag. She made her movements deliberate; she lit a cigarette. “You’ve got to get it through your bigoted head that I’m an adult. I can do exactly as I please.”

Preacher looked at her as though she were a stranger. “Your soul is in peril,” he said.

“Screw my soul. I want to have some fun before I die.” She dodged the hand that swiped for her cigarette and glared daggers at Zack when he move
d toward her. He stopped. She returned her glare to Preacher. “Don’t you get it, you son of a bitch? I’m not your good daughter. I don’t believe in God. I don’t even like men. I think you’re all ugly and violent and pigheaded. I like women. I’m gay. How’d you like the Congregation to know that, Preacher?” Her voice rose on each word. “How about I get up in church and tell them Preacher’s daughter is a God-damned lesbian!”

“What?” Preacher seemed frozen; he’d even stopped trying to get the cigarette.

“I’m a dike! I sleep with women! Would you like me to paint you a picture? Speaking of which, have you ever even heard of a little thing called women’s liberation?”

“A lesbian?” Zack echoed. “A child of Sodom?”

“Actually girls don’t do it like that. We lack the equipment.” She dropped the cigarette butt, stepped on it and got in the car.

Preacher’s face went bright red. “Get out of the car!” he roared.

Magda wound up the windows and locked the doors. Preacher’s voice went mute. She turned on the ignition and turned up the radio. The two of them looked awfully funny standing out there yelling silently. She plucked the bottle of vodka from the glove box and took a swig. She caught sight of the gun, safe in there, and looked back at Preacher. She lit another cigarette and threw the car in reverse before she did something that would see her back down at the police station.

Preacher followed the car when she gunned down the driveway and reversed in a tight circle. He ran onto the road, stood in her path and held up a hand.

Magda changed gears. “Get out of my way!” she screamed.

Preacher stayed in the road. He took a step toward her.

Magda grit her teeth. If she didn’t get out of Hailstone tonight, she knew exactly what kind of exorcism she’d be in for on Sunday. She slammed her foot down on the accelerator and touched the brake. The tyres squealed. Black smoke erupted, but he kept moving toward her.

Magda took her foot off the brake. The look on his face when she sped toward him was worth a lifetime of abuse. He looked like a rabbit trapped in the headlights. She screamed with rage and waited for the impact.

It didn’t come. Zack bolted into the road and threw both himself and Preacher out of her path.

Magda whooped and kept going. She squealed to a stop at the corner and looked in the rear view, just to see if they were both really okay.

“Shit.” The word hissed out of her mouth. Preacher had gone for his own car. The lights were already on. Zack still gaped at the two of them from the side of the road.

Magda gunned the engines and burned away from the church. She drove fast, but before she’d even reached the highway, Preacher was practically nudging her bumper. She took a corner onto the highway and sped up. She overtook every car she saw and gained some distance, but she couldn’t lose him. Drivers blared their horns and swore in her wake, but she just went faster; the needle pushed 180. Jesus Christ, if Preacher didn’t let off they were going to crash and die. She missed the turn off into the city centre, but she could hardly take Preacher into Pantheon with her.

The turn off to the rail yards was wide and curving. Magda had a vision of Preacher’s car crushed under a passing train. She swung into the turn off and sped toward the tracks. Stupid. Stupid! Now she had nowhere else to go and she didn’t know what to do. Maybe she could call the police. Right, and have them hand her over to him. No point calling Adam or Kat, there was nothing they could do.

He nudged her bumper. Magda hit her head on the steering wheel. She lost control, hit a railway line and spun in the other direction. She grabbed the wheel, clamped down on it and slammed on the brake. The car screamed to a stop.

Preacher’s Landrover stopped too.

Magda took a deep breath
and rubbed her aching forehead. She took another swig of vodka. Then she grabbed the gun out of the glove box and checked the chamber. It was full, just like she’d left it. Every one of those bullets had Preacher’s name on it.

She kicked open the door
, stormed toward Preacher’s car, raised the gun and pointed it at the windscreen. “Get out of the car!” she screamed.

No response. She hoped he’d wet his pants.

“Get out!” She squeezed the trigger. The kickback surprised her; it was only a little gun. The windscreen shattered.

Preacher yelled. He got out of the car, hands in the air. “Magdalene,” he said. “Think about what you’re doing. Come home with me now and nobody will ever have to know.”

Magda kept the gun on him. Her hands shook. She’d been so sure she could do it. “Get out of my life!” she yelled. “Just go away and leave me alone!”

“I can’t,” he said. “You’re my daughter
and I love you. I won’t let Satan have you.”

Magda squeezed the trigger, but her hands were shaking. The bullet grazed the side of his car. “Go!” she screamed. “Go, or I swear to God I’ll kill you!”