The Burning Time Read Free Page A

back and his fist flew harmlessly past. She grabbed the fingers of his other hand and bent them backward until he cried out.
    “Stop! Stop!”
    Holding him in that position, she said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Apologize or I’m gonna break your fingers.”
    “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
    “Good.” She let go and he slumped against the railing, cradling his injured hand. “C’mon, Mitch. Get your books and let’s go. I’m late for work.”
    Mitch wiped his arm across his face. It came away streaked with red. He touched his nose and felt around the inside of his mouth with his tongue, but nothing felt broken or loose. He scooped up his books, never taking his eyes off Ralphie, who stared at him with murderous intent. The other students, most of whom had gone silent when Danni appeared, stepped aside as Mitch started down the steps.
    “Hey, Tiny.”
    Mitch looked back.
    “You’re dead on Monday.” Ralphie drew a finger across his own throat to illustrate his words.
    “Get your butt in gear, Mitch,” Danni called from the bottom of the steps, “or no trip to the museum this weekend.”
    Another burst of laughter followed him down to the car.
    Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse.
    I can’t wait for summer.

 
Chapter 4
    Reverend Cyrus Christian looked up at the knock on his office door.
    “Come in.” He closed the book he’d been reading, resting one hand on the worn, brown leather cover.
    Helen Kapinski, the church’s administrative manager, peeked her gray-haired head around the door. “I hate to bother you, Reverend...”
    “That’s all right, Mrs. Kapinski. I’ve just been preparing my sermon. What can I do for you?”
    She entered the office, her floral print dress exposing the smallest of spaces above her sensible shoes. One wrinkled hand, pale as a fish’s belly, held out some papers to him. They drooped like dead flowers, victims of the same beastly heat that had the whole town in a funk.
    “The maintenance and financial records you asked for.”
    “Oh, yes. Thank you.” He took them, gave them a quick glance.
    Two facts jumped out at him immediately. One, the church was long overdue for important renovations, such as a new roof, painting, and other repairs. Second, there was barely enough money in the bank account to purchase office supplies.
    “This is most distressing. Pastor...”
    “Pastor McMichaels,” Helen supplied the name for him.
    “Yes. He didn’t do a very good job taking care of this place, did he?”
    Helen pushed her cat’s eye glasses back up her long, patrician nose. “He did the best he could, Reverend. But he was an old man, and when his wife got the cancer, well, he put most of his energy into taking care of her instead.”
    “Hmm. Well, that’s all going to change. I want to raise at least fifteen thousand dollars by the end of the summer. That will take care of all the interior repairs, at least.”
    “Goodness!” Helen’s liver-spotted hand went to her mouth. “How do you plan on getting all that money?”
    Reverend Christian gave her a wide smile, then quickly closed his mouth when he saw her startled expression. “This is an old-fashioned town, so we’ll do it the old-fashioned way. We’ll have bake sales, raffles, picnics, maybe even a fair.”
    He stood up, his tall, skeletal figure blocking the corner lamp and casting a narrow shadow across the desk. “Call the mayor and set up an appointment for me. I want to see what weekends the park is available and find out what permits we’ll need.”
    He picked up the leather-bound tome from the desk and stepped toward the door. “Excuse my hasty exit, but it’s time for services. Have a good afternoon, Mrs. Kapinski.”
    The last strains of organ music faded away as Christian took his place behind the lectern. Afternoon sun streamed through the large, century-old stained-glass windows lining both sides of the church. Dust motes glittered in the yellow and red beams. The congregation