If Selena expected someone to comment on an old woman carrying a gun down the road, she was disappointed. One of the mechanics was sitting in front of the garage. He nodded to Grandma and didn’t utter a word.
Our Lady of the Palo Verdes shone white in the noonday sun. Grandma pushed the door open and yelled, “Hey, Father! You in?”
It was cool and dim inside. The narrow stained glass windows threw violet shadows over the pews.
Selena was so distracted that she forgot to tie up Copper. The clack of nails on the floor reminded her. She caught for the dog’s collar and turned back toward the door.
Father Aguirre filled the doorway. He looked from Selena to Copper to Grandma Billy.
“Staging a religious coup?” he asked mildly.
“Not today,” said Grandma. “Got troubles. Need you to bless my gun.”
Father Aguirre sighed. “Let me get the oil ...”
They followed him into the dining room. He went to a sideboard and began rummaging through it.
“What sort of troubles?” he asked. “Or can you not tell me?”
Grandma leaned against the doorframe. “Fetches, I think. Not sure, though. Poor Selena here had some damn things staring at her half the night, anyway, and I expect they’ll be back tonight.”
This is it, now he’ll say we’re insane, now he’ll tell me I’m taking advantage of an old woman with a questionable grip on reality ...
Father Aguirre frowned. “Why does somebody want to bother Selena?” He glanced at her. “Forgive me for saying so, but you don’t seem to be of a particularly mystic bent. And I can’t imagine how else you’d attract something’s attention.”
Selena spread her hands, not sure how to answer that.
“Might have been one of Amelia’s old friends,” said Grandma Billy. “Could be they’re not best pleased to have somebody else in the house. Or might think she had a debt owing, and now she’s dead, they’re coming to collect from her kin. That’s all I can come up with, anyhow.”
“What?” said Selena. “You didn’t tell me that!”
“Nope,” said Grandma. “Didn’t want to say it out where things might be listening. They won’t come into town, though, or at least not up to the church.”
Selena rubbed the back of her neck. Copper leaned against her shins. “Are you telling me that monsters don’t like churches?”
“Monsters don’t likethischurch,” said Grandma. “Mind you, I think that’s got less to do with the pope and more to do with Father Aguirre, here.”
The priest sketched a small, ironic bow. “I think you’re giving me too much credit, ma’am, but we’ll agree to disagree. Give me your gun.”
She passed it over. Selena watched with a growing sense of unreality as the priest sketched the sign of the cross and dabbed oil on the barrel of the shotgun.
This is not really happening. There is no way that this is really happening.
She had to say something. “You believe there are monsters?” she asked. “Like—really?”
“Of course,” said Father Aguirre. “There have always been monsters. The ones in the desert are a bit more straightforward than the ones in men, that’s all.”
“And fewer people complain if you shoot them,” said Grandma Billy.
Chapter 11
“I have mentioned that this is crazy, right?” said Selena.
“Couple times now,” said Grandma Billy cheerfully. “It’s all right. Everybody copes in their own way. Once I’ve shot one of the things, though, I’d appreciate if we could sorta move the conversation along.”
“What if it’s really a person in there, and you shoot it?” asked Selena.
“Then some bastard’s hanging around staring in your windows and they damn well deserve both barrels in the chest.”
