Joe Lansdale - Mucho Mojo

“I’m not married,” he said. “Actually, I made that when I was a kid. For my father. Sit down.”

So much for warming him up. There were a couple of leather chairs in front of the desk, and a similar one behind it. Fitzgerald took his position behind the desk, and me and Leonard manned the remaining chairs. Mine had something wrong with the swivel and wouldn’t move, but Leonard’s worked just fine. He was turning slowly left to right. He always got the best stuff.

We sat for a moment listening to the air-conditioning hum. Fitzgerald clasped his hands together. He had a friendly face. The kind of face you’d tell your troubles to. He said, “Just as part of the job, may I ask you boys a question?”

“Sure,” Leonard said, “but would it be OK not to call us boys? It’s not that I’m overly sensitive, but I’m getting a little long in the tooth to visualize myself in short pants.”

Fitzgerald smiled. “All right. It’s a habit. We preachers get so we can’t help calling every one boy, or son, or daughter. But the question was, are you fellas Christians?”

“Well, you’ve put us on the spot,” Leonard said. “And the answer is no. For both of us.”

Fitzgerald looked at me for agreement. I nodded, said, “Yeah. And no offense, Reverend, but we didn’t come here to discuss religion. We just need to find Illium Moon.”

“I’ve told you all I know about where he lives,” Fitzgerald said. “I’ve never been to his place. I just know generally where it is.”

I didn’t believe that. I felt he didn’t trust our motives, and that he wasn’t about to give out Illium’s address to a couple guys he didn’t know, and infidels to boot. I respected that, but I still wanted to know where Illium Moon lived. I was considering an approach when suddenly Fitzgerald waved a finger at Leonard. “Wait a minute,” he said. “I didn’t think I knew the face, but something was bothering me. It’s the name. Pine? You the nephew of Chester Pine?”

Leonard assured him he was.

“I’ve heard about you,” he said.

“Word gets around,” Leonard said. “And so do newspapers.”

“Yours is a family with problems,” Fitzgerald said.

“You might say that,” Leonard said. “But not of our own choosing. Actually, far as family goes, taking or leaving – let’s make that leaving – a few not-too-close and boring cousins, I’m all the family I care about. ’Cept Hap here.”

“He appears to be a very distant relation,” Fitzgerald said, and smiled when he said it.

“We couldn’t keep him out of the bleach,” Leonard said.

Fitzgerald looked at me and I grinned, way you do when you’re trying to let a third party know you know the guy with you sees himself as a real card, but you merely tolerate him.

Fitzgerald turned back to Leonard. He said, “Your uncle had a quick mouth too. Like you. I didn’t like him.”

“That’s honest.”

“He came around with Illium from time to time. I had a few unpleasant conversations with him.”

“About what?” Leonard asked.

“About God and religion,” Fitzgerald said. “He had a kind of cavalier attitude about the subjects.”

“That was Uncle Chester, all right,” Leonard said.

“I assure you I wish no one ill,” Fitzgerald said, “but the Lord seems to have made his statement with your uncle.”

“That didn’t have quite the Christian ring I’d have expected,” Leonard said. “You sound a little too goddamned happy.”

“I prefer you not use the Lord’s name in vain,” Fitzgerald said. “Especially in His house.”

“And I’d prefer you not malign my uncle,” Leonard said.

“Sincerely,” Fitzgerald said, “I didn’t mean to put it that bluntly. I apologize.”

Leonard didn’t respond. He just studied the Reverend’s face. I said, “Reverend. We didn’t come here for a fight, and I don’t see how we’ve gotten into one. We got a couple questions to ask. That’s it, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

“You’re not in a fight,” the Reverend said. “I’m suggesting, respectfully, that you don’t use that kind of language here, and I’m apologizing for what I said. I’m overly zealous sometimes. You see the things I see, hear the stories I hear, you get so you want to crusade, do something about the badness out there. Open the world up to God.”

“All right,” Leonard said. “Apology accepted. And I apologize for my language. Not because I think it matters, but because it is your church.”

“However you prefer to see it,” the Reverend said. “Listen, about your uncle. Let me say a little more. I’m not happy about what happened to him. I merely meant to point out that we all face judgment in the eyes of the Lord. Not just your uncle, you and me as well. I’m suggesting only that we should all strive to stand in the Lord’s light without blinking. I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. Or perhaps there was some bitterness there. Your uncle was a witty man, and quick with a quip. He seemed to have a special hatred for religion.”

“Hypocrisy is what bothered him,” Leonard said. “Not religion.”

Reverend Fitzgerald refused to be baited. He was very pleasant when he said, “It’s unusual that your uncle and Illium Moon were such good friends. Mr. Moon is quite religious. Very involved in church activities. Especially those dealing with youth. And considering what I’ve read in the papers…”

“Don’t believe everything you read in the papers,” Leonard said.

“Very well,” Fitzgerald said. “I’ll keep that in mind. You know, I’ve been sitting here trying to recall what I’ve heard about you, Mr. Pine, and now it comes back to me.”

“I hope it’s flattering,” Leonard said.

“You’re a homosexual and you flaunt it,” Fitzgerald said.

“I don’t wear Easter hats and high heels and study floral arrangements, that’s what you mean,” Leonard said, “but I don’t hide out in the kitchen under a chair either.”

“You take pride in it,” Fitzgerald said.

“You’re no one I have to answer to,” Leonard said.

“No,” Fitzgerald said. “You don’t have to answer to me. The Lord is who you answer to. I’ve nothing against you. I’m merely saying, your way is not the way of the Lord. Are you acquainted with your Bible, Mr. Pine?”

“Me and Hap here were just quoting Bible verses on the way over.”

“Are you familiar with the story of Sodom and Gomorrah?”

“Yep,” Leonard said. “It’s a favorite Baptist queer allegory. I just get cold chills all over when I hear it. Which is pretty often. I especially like where Lot’s wife gets turned into a pillar of salt.”

“You know the story, then learn from it, sir. Lot met the angels of the Lord at the gates of Sodom and took them to his house for a feast, and the house was soon surrounded by homosexuals who wanted to know them.”

“‘Know them’ means ‘fuck them,’ right?” Leonard said.

Fitzgerald batted his eyes a couple of times but pretended not to hear and plowed ahead. “And the homosexuals gathered around Lot’s house and demanded that he bring the angels out and give them to the crowd, and the angels struck the crowd blind. Does that sound like tolerance for homosexuals, Mr. Pine?”

“All right,” Leonard said, “you didn’t get to the pillar-of-salt part, but you left out some good stuff. Like how Lot, wanting to protect these angels who needed no protection, offered his daughters to the crowd. Now there’s the exemplary father I’d like to have. ‘Hey, girls, we got these guests the queers want to screw, but, well, hell, they’re angels and they haven’t finished their chicken-fried steaks, so I’m gonna give them you instead. Shuck your panties and hit the porch.’”