Jenny Plague-Bringer: (Jenny Pox #4) by J. Bryan

looked like a rehearsed move to Juliana, but she supposed
     most of the crowd hadn’t seen five years’ worth of midway tricks.
    This inspired people in the crowd to scream and squirm in response. The punchy piano
     music accelerated, and the writhing and screaming spread through the tent.
    Juliana frowned.  She doubted this man was anything but a big talker who knew how
     to sway a crowd.  She was beginning to feel stupid for coming to the revival, like
     just another mark who couldn’t see the game.
    “I know why many of you are here tonight,” the preacher said. “Word gets around, don’t
     it, about the wonders of the Lord that unfold right here, in this very tent?  I’ve
     heard people say I can cure the blind, heal the sick, chase out the demons of illness.” 
     Many of the crowd shouted excitedly. “They say I can take a crippled man and make
     him walk, that I can cast out all manner of pox and measles.”  The crowd grew more
     excited, and many began trying to push their way to the front.
    Juliana tensed.  This was it, the alleged healing part of the show.
    “Those folks are plain wrong!” the preacher shouted. “I’m just a simple country preacher. 
     It’s the Lord that heals!  It’s the Spirit that heals the sick and the suffering little
     children, and the lepers and all of ‘em!  I am just a humble vessel of the Lord, that’s
     all!”
    The crowd roared their enthusiastic response.
    The preacher’s assistant brought up a man with his arm in a sling.  The preacher prayed,
     danced around, and laid his hands on the broken arm.  The man took off the sling and
     waved the bandaged arm at the crowd, grinning, and the crowd shouted things like “Hallelujah!”
     and “Praise the Lord!”  There was no way to tell whether he was a shill or not.
    The family with the polio-stricken boy was trying to push their way to the stage,
     but the thick crowd wasn’t budging.  Juliana decided to let the little boy’s leg be
     her test of whether the healing was real.  She jumped in front of the family.
    “Crippled boy, coming through!” she shouted. “Let us through, he’s crippled!  Please!” 
     She did her best to look sad, pulling out every carnival trick she knew.  A few people
     eased aside, but they didn’t get far, so she raised the stakes. “Dying boy!  Look
     out, this boy’s going to die right now!  Help this dying boy reach the stage!”
    More people took an interest now, and some even helped out, passing the word along
     and urging others to step aside.  She kept repeating her plea as she advanced, opening
     a narrow path for the family, who followed right behind her.
    She kept up her patter until they reached the very edge of the stage, where the father
     was able to pass the little boy to the preacher’s assistant, who carried him over
     to the preacher.  His parents watched, the father hard-eyed and skeptical, the mother
     full of hope.
    Juliana crossed her arms and waited to see whether a miracle would happen.
    “Oh, yes, this boy’s been stricken, all right,” the preacher said.  “Sick leg, does
     everyone see that?  The boy cannot walk!” The preacher’s assistant held the boy out
     for the crowd to see, then turned him toward the preacher, who said, “But the Lord
     is merciful, and offers us hope.  Tell me, boy, do you love the Lord?”
    “Yes,” the boy answered, in a small voice.
    “And the Lord loves you, too.  And we can ask Him for the great gift of healing, we
     can ask for His blessing...” The preacher danced around the stage a little, then shouted,
     “Demon of affliction, I cast thee out!  Go back to the fires of damnation from which
     you rose!” He slapped the boy’s leg, hard enough that Juliana jumped in surprise and
     the boy’s mother cried out.
    The assistant turned the boy to face the audience again and held him up high.  Beneath
     his overalls, which were cut off at the knees, everyone could see that both his legs