“Hey ‘Vange, you alright?”
“Oh Doll, it’s over. He’s gone and it’s all over.”
“That preacher boy you been jawin’ about? What’s his name, Woodchuck?”
“Bigneck. His name’s Bigneck Kingdom and he’s gone. Funny thing is doll, I didn’t see it comin’ this time. If a fella seems keen before finding out what it is we do, you’ll see that keenness straight out vanish when he learns what’s what. Otherways he’ll start to grinnin’, while his other hand’s reachin’ for his wallet. Bigneck’d just said past was past, and so long as no-one else was invited from here on in, then that was fine by him.”
“So what changed his mind?”
“Well. Oh! He told me an angel appeared before him, some fleshy old crone in Sunday skirts, spoutin’ how his future held nothin’ but shame if he stayed on with me. Said he ought to leave me, leave town, and strike out on his own preachin’ freelance. And that from here on in, should he cross paths with some other ‘wretched girl’, he should be sure n’ teach her a lesson.”
“Huh?”
“Exactly. Then he’s off, without so much as a squeeze.”
“Sounds to me like you’re better off without that one.”
“You’re wrong doll. And I’ll tell ya, I’m gonna screw my way outta this place if it takes me a year, and I’m gonna go get me back my man. Angel or no angel.”
“But ‘Vange…”
“Don’t you call me that no more. My name’s Evangeline, and I got work to do.”
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