REBEL

Chapter Fifteen

( Texts )

Bailey : Reverend , I must respectfully request you to end this repulsive boycott of yours.

Emily : I'm afraid , Mr. Mullins , that I can not do so. The boycott is God ordained. He spoke to me about it in my gardens one day. He was quite loud and clear on it. Ricky Joe needs to be saved.

Bailey : Fuck !

Emily : That language is dreadful. God disapproves , sir. You are a very bad influence on my little brother.

Bailey : The hell I am ! I was there a few years ago when he needed to be pulled out of the sleaziest drug dens. Not you. Not your husband. Not your mother. Not God. Me. I was there when he lay half dead and nude on his bathroom floor. The needle still in his arm. Me ! I was the one who gave him CPR while my husband called 911. I was the one who kept it quiet from the public when he went to rehab. Do you know how many I had to bribe ? Where were you ? Oh right. Talking to God. God told you then to go save souls in Asia. And your mother ? In a Paris Spa on his dime.

Emily : You are paid well for your services , sir. Too well.

Bailey : It's not the money. I should have quit that day. Because I know no matter what I do or say or what your beloved God does he's going to kill himself one day. Not because of the music. Or the fame. Because of whatever haunts him. Once he fell asleep on the plane and was crying in his sleep. About someone named Jed.

Emily : Our childhood was very idyllic. And wholesome. It's your influence on him. I see the truth. God told me. You are a pervert , sir. A forty year old pervert who fixated on my naive young brother and turned him into an international slut. You fancy yourself in love. I see you. I'll be praying for you.

Bailey Mullins tossed aside his Samsung cell phone and sighed deeply as he pushed his glasses back upon his face. That woman. The honorable and oh so holy Reverend Emily Jean Gibson Lewis. She was right about him.

( " You fancy yourself in love . " )

He began to write the words he had written so many times.

Dear Rebel ,

I regret to inform you that this is my two week notice.

( " You fancy yourself in love. " )

The pen dropped.

In his mind's eye he saw Ricky Joe with his sweet innocence and too trusting nature smiling at him. The image changed to that of Rebel laying naked and unconscious on the bathroom floor.

" It doesn't matter what I fancy myself. He doesn't love me. He doesn't even see me. He can't love anyone really. "

He lifted up the letter and stared at it.

" Emily's God help us all , " he said as he ripped it in half. Like he had so many times.