The Revenge of the Radioactive Lady - Elizabeth Stuckey-French [119]
But maybe, argued her inner Radioactive Lady, the problem was that certain people hadn’t suffered enough! A certain person, that is. She gave Buster’s leash a sharp tug and he glanced up at her, puzzled, but then seemed to shrug—goofy old lady—and started ambling along again. Buster was so forgiving. Unlike her. That horrible Ceremony of Healing she’d accidentally attended at Genesis Church. She’d gone for regular Wednesday night church, but once there she’d gotten a nasty surprise.
That night there were no ministers, no singers, no band, and the cameras weren’t even going. The giant screens were blank. There was nothing to look at except a woman playing an organ. “Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer! That calls me from a world of care and bids me at my Father’s throne make all my wants and wishes known.”
During the last verse of the hymn, Buff, wearing a dark suit, emerged from a door next to the stage, followed by Paula and Rusty and Angel. “This robe of flesh I’ll drop and rise to seize the everlasting prize …” There was an intake of breath. The organ kept warbling, but most people had stopped singing.
“Damn,” Marylou said aloud. She’d been missing Suzi’s company in the seat beside her, even though she knew that Suzi would never be coming back to this church. Why had Marylou thought that she could come back like nothing had happened? She’d assumed that Buff would surely have resigned in disgrace, but she’d underestimated him once again.
Buff strode up onto the stage, and his family scuttled over toward the seats, Paula’s and Rusty’s eyes downcast, and Angel, in her mother’s arms, looking around curiously. They sat down three rows ahead of Marylou.
Marylou scooted around on her seat cushion, the buttons in the fabric biting into her haunches. She wanted to bolt, but she had to see what happened next. She couldn’t imagine what Buff was going to say. How could he stand up there, facing them, after what he’d done? But he did face them, and his face didn’t look so hot. There were dark circles underneath his eyes. He looked gray and haggard, like he’d lost weight. His trousers hung on him. Where’s your big dick now, buddy?
Buff opened his mouth and said that he’d decided not to lie anymore. He talked about how sorry he was, how he’d hurt so many people, how he’d let his family and his congregation down, and then he began to sniffle. “I’ve had a demon inside me for many years,” he said. “I’ve tried to fight it, but it keeps coming back. Lord, I’ve tried to fight it. Sexual addiction. Addiction to pornography. Please help me, friends. Please help me fight this thing.”
“We will, we will,” said members of the audience.
“Friends, please forgive me. With your help I can beat this thing. With your help and the Lord’s help, I can become a whole man again.”
“Bullshit,” Marylou said in a loud voice.
“Oh, Lord,” said the elegantly dressed black man sitting next to Marylou, his eyes trained on Buff. “Oh, lordy, lordy, please, lord.”
Three rows in front of her Paula was sobbing, too, and so was Angel, but Rusty sat there stiff-backed, and Marylou squirmed for all three of them.
But what happened next was even worse. Buff looked around and started picking out people to plead forgiveness of. “Forgive me, Danielle.”
“I forgive you!” Danielle, whoever she was, burst out.
There was a big upswelling of approval from the congregation.
After that, when he spoke to one of his victims, she answered back that she forgave him. So there