The Night Before by David Fulmer

work and because she was voluptuous for an Asian female, and he deeply appreciated the paradox. Or so he said. And Mariel would think:
Right. Pair of what?
    Joe wouldn’t know what he was missing this night, as she was adorned in a gorgeous deep green dress with a plunging neckline. A silver ring on a simple chain rested in her cleavage. The eyes above this display regarded Mariel with some concern.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Karen placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you feel well?” When Mariel shook her head, she said, “Hey. Are you all right?”
    â€œI’m just… I’m…”
    Karen leaned closer. “What’s wrong?”
    Mariel felt a fat tear rise and begin a slow slide down her cheek.
    Reverend Callum delivered the two lost souls to St. Mark’s A.M.E. Church and drove off in the old van. Though the snow had slowed to flurries, the streets were packed slick and so he maneuvered with care. He longed for some sacred music on the way back to the church, but something was wrong with the wiring under the dashboard and the radio delivered only static. So he made do with the sound of his own mellow voice.
    The sky over the city had cleared and the reverend could see stars. The North Star in particular, along with the cold half-moon, seemed to be lighting his path; or perhaps he was just telling himself this was true. The reverend believed deeply in his God, his Savior, and in blessings and miracles, but he was also a rational man who knew the hard ways of the world and was not easily deceived. Not by his own foolishness, and not by the conniving of others.
    The two men he had just delivered to the shelter, for instance. One was black, the other white, and both had the look of miscreants. He had collected them at an underpass on I-78 and as soon as they settled into the back seat, they fell to whispers, no doubt trying to decide if the man at the wheel was worth jacking. The reverend put a quick stop to that business, pulling onto the shoulder at Johns Hill and telling them that they could either sit with their mouths closed and their thoughts fixed on the wonder and true meaning of this night, or get out and walk the rest of the way into town.
    The pair stared, taking measure of the reverend’s thick body and hard eyes and the steel in his voice. They exchanged a glance and decided to heed his advice and enjoy the warm ride. Both shook his hand and thanked him when he delivered them to the shelter. By habit, he checked the seat in case they had left any drugs or weapons. Finding nothing, he wondered if he had misjudged them.
    Though he was eager to get back to the church, he took his time, easing to a slow stop at every intersection. He saw only one other vehicle on the streets, an older model Chevrolet that except for a set of flashy chrome wheels was in much the same ragged shape as the van. The car crossed over at Union Street, billowing gray smoke. Reverend Callum drove on.
    When the tear erupted into a quiet wail, Karen grabbed Mariel, steered her into the pantry that was just off the kitchen, and closed the door behind them. She pumped her, though gently, and in between the jagged sobs, heard the whole tale: the flirty business with Don that led to heat that turned into fire in their dining room that very night. And how she looked up to see Joe standing in the doorway. The shock on his face! She started to wail again.
    â€œOkay, okay, you need to stop that.” Karen waited a moment for her friend to calm herself, then said, “Mariel.”
    â€œWhat?” It came out a comical honk.
    â€œWhat were you doing with that fool?”
    Mariel groaned. “I don’t know. It just happened.”
    â€œNo, it didn’t ‘just happen.’”
    â€œI guess I was feeling like… like it was all over.”
    â€œWhat was?”
    â€œMy life. All Joe ever does is peck away at some book. He hardly makes any money. He works so hard.