Three Rivers Read Free Page B

on either side of her face. His fingers tangled in her hair and she wished her hair were soft and flowing instead of brittle and sticky from all the hair spray. Not that he complained. It was good stuff, this kiss. Despite running with a crowd that encouraged virginity until marriage, Melody had managed to shed that albatross during a particularly awkward, drunken encounter with a Kappa Sig in college. So she wasn’t completely without experience. Still, there was more going on during this kiss in an alley than had happened during an entire night with the frat boy at a decent hotel. Just as she was beginning to really relax and enjoy things, Shannon’s shrill voice bleated out into the alley.
    â€œI found her. I found her!”
    For about half a second, Melody was prepared to tell Shannon to get lost, but Chris was not so unconcerned about being discovered. He pushed her away, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and sprinted from the alley without so much as a thank-you. As it turned out, Chris was engaged to some girl in Nebraska. This was common knowledge, according to Shannon and Joy. “What kind of person just makes out with someone in an alley?” Joy asked. It was not a purely hypothetical question, and the implication was clear: a cheap girl with loose morals, that’s who.
    *   *   *
    She’d avoided Chris since that night, and she had no intention of talking to him now. She stepped into the road and flagged down a faded gray sedan. The setting sun turned the sky orange and obstructed her vision. She squinted but could not see inside the car. She decided a car full of rapists and ax murderers would be preferable to a confrontation with Chris. Thankfully, a woman with severe black hair poked her head out the passenger-side window and told Melody to hop in. The woman looked Pentecostal, which wasn’t great, but she didn’t look like a killer.
    Melody slid into the backseat, her heart pounding. Sweat soaked her horrid blouse to her stomach. The driver, a man with the same dark hair as the woman, said, “Welcome, sister.”
    â€œHey there.” She plucked at the sleeves of her blouse, desperate to get some air between her skin and the god-awful fabric. “Thanks so much for stopping. I’m hoping to get to the train station.”
    â€œAh, a journey on the rails. Where are you heading on this fine summer evening, sister?” The man’s voice, deep and musical, gave Melody the creeps.
    The woman turned her head and beamed. “I’m Bernice and this is my husband, George Walter.”
    Melody wasn’t sure if the couple’s last name was Walter or if the man used two names. “I’m Melody.”
    â€œMelody,” George Walter said. “Melody. It’s a beautiful name, sister. A musical name. Is your family musical?”
    â€œSort of,” Melody said. “Mama used to play the piano, sing a bit.” Her own musical career felt too freshly failed to mention.
    â€œThat’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.” George Walter glanced at her in the rearview mirror. A milky film floated over the brown iris of his right eye, ghostly and ghoulish.
    â€œSad?”
    â€œThat she used to play. Once you find the music inside you, you have a duty to keep playing, keep singing. Music must be shared with the world, sister. Music is a gift that should never be squandered.”
    Melody wished she could close her eyes and ignore this odd man, but he’d offered her a ride and she felt obligated to respond. “She had more important things to do. She had to drop out of college and take care of her mother. Her mother was very sick.”
    â€œAh,” Bernice said. “Family obligations. Your mother is a godly woman?”
    â€œI don’t know about that. She did what she had to do.”
    â€œNo one has to do anything in this world, sister.” George Walter slowed the car as they entered