The Atonement Child Read Free Page A

said, “Are you going to the campus, miss?”
    “Yes, I am,” she said before she thought better of it.
    “I can give you a lift.”
    “No, thank you.”
    “I’m going there myself. Visiting my brother. Unfortunately, I’m lost. First time in town. He lives near the main gate of the campus.”
    She relaxed and stepped closer. Leaning down, she pointed. “Go down a mile to Henderson and turn right. Keep going, and you’ll run right into it. It’s a block past the city park.” She couldn’t see the man’s face.
    “If I give you a ride, you could show me.”
    A strange foreboding gripped her. “No, thank you,” she said politely and took a step back. She didn’t want to offend the man. What excuse could she offer? She looked toward the bus stop, where a woman was sitting, and found an excuse. “I’m meeting a friend.”
    “Sure. Thanks for the directions,” the man said, sounding far less friendly. The window whirred up. As he drove on down Sixteenth, she saw the car bore the same Massachusetts plates. The two red taillights stared back at her as the car passed the bus stop.
    Shivering, she walked on. She recognized the waitress sitting on the bench. “Hi, Martha. How are you this evening?”
    “So-so. My feet are killing me. Was someone trying to pick you up back there?”
    “Not really. He was lost.”
    “Yeah, right. That’s his story.”
    “He was looking for the campus.”
    “I hope you told him where to go.”
    “I gave him directions.”
    Martha laughed. “I’m sure you didn’t give him the ones I would’ve given him.”
    They talked about their jobs until the bus arrived. Martha climbed aboard first and moved to her usual place near the back, where she could read her romance novel uninterrupted. Dynah took a seat at the front, across from the driver.
    Her first day aboard, she had noticed the pins on the lapel of Charles’s neat uniform jacket. When she asked what they were, he said he had one to show for each five-year period he had driven without an accident. After a few weeks of riding with him, Dynah had gone to a trophy store and had a plaque made up for him that said, “In honor of distinguished service to Middleton, Charles Booker Washington is awarded the title of Driver Emeritus.” He had laughed when he opened it, but it was now proudly displayed next to the No Smoking sign at the front of the bus.
    “How’s things, Charlie?”
    He grinned at her as he hit the button to close the door. “Pretty good now you’re aboard. Missed your sunny smile last night.”
    “Ethan picked me up.”
    “He driving a Cadillac yet?”
    She laughed. “No, sir. Still has his Buick.” She leaned forward in the seat and rested her arms on the iron railing.
    Charlie nodded. “When he gets a church, he’ll get his Cad. We don’t let our preachers drive anything else. Treat ’em good.”
    “I noticed.” When she had gone to Charlie’s church, she had seen the new maroon Cadillac parked in the “Reserved for Pastor” space. She had enjoyed herself so much at the service, she pleaded with Ethan to go back with her. He had gone once, grudgingly, but had refused to attend with her again. He said the service was a little “too lively” for his tastes. He hadn’t felt comfortable with the loud gospel music pouring from the choir, nor with the way the members of the congregation interjected their remarks during the pastor’s sermon.
    “It felt irreverent.”
    She hadn’t shared his discomfort, though the service had been far from the kind of service to which she was accustomed. She felt the Spirit moving in that church. The members celebrated their love for Jesus and for each other. She had enjoyed the experience. Something about it had stirred her. The pastor had preached straight from the Word, and the people made sure he knew his points were sinking in. However, Dynah didn’t argue with Ethan’s assessment. She had learned early that he took his role as the spiritual head of their