W arm urine ran down Samuel’s right leg into his sneakers, and formed a puddle on the dingy blue carpet in Luciano’s bedroom. This time it wasn’t an act. He dropped the towel and slowly edged backwards away from the window, Sister Bravo and the demon priest still in sight.
“Hurry, little one,” called Luciano. “The checker board is getting cold.”
Samuel, shaking and numb, tried to answer but the words drifted off in whispers. He cleared his throat, tears running down his cheeks. “Just a second,” he managed to eek out, now sitting on the edge of the bed. He stared down at the carpet in a daze. Why is this happening? Why? He jumped to his feet. Luciano betrayed me! The thought quelled his shaking and sent his teeth grinding. I’m not going back! I’m not! He eased toward the window.
The nun and priest climbed the stairs, headed for the second floor apartment, hell-born scowls on their contorted faces. No doubt Father Sin caught it good for letting Samuel get away, and the ten year old was not about to stick around for the punishment.
Samuel slipped out the door, tiptoed down the hall and ducked into the bathroom. He sat down on the toilet, closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. A strong rap on the door startled him out of his momentary meditation and he eased up, stood on the commode, and pushed open the cloudy glass window. Two floors down, he saw an empty yard, except for bare hedges, barren rose bushes, and a half grass, mostly dirt, lawn.
He couldn’t find anything to land on, and nothing to hang from. No balcony, no fire escape, nothing. He got down off the toilet and pressed his ear against the door.
“What boy?” he heard Luciano exclaim. “There’s no boy here, only Luciano!”
“Then you must be expecting someone,” answered Sister Bravo. “I see the checker board is set up.”
“Yes,” said the Italian. “I’m expecting company.” Samuel heard the thud of Father Sin’s hooves across the floor.
“There are two plates in the sink, Sister,” Father Sin quipped.
“I entertained last night,” Luciano lied quickly. “There’s no sin in being a slob.”
“Then you won’t mind if we have a look around,” Father Sin growled.
“No,” snapped Luciano, “I want both of you to leave immediately!” Samuel heard a crash, a groan, and the sound of checkers being knocked to the floor. He cracked open the door and saw Luciano pinned to the floor, Father Sin on top, slapping him in the face. Sister Bravo eerily slithered into view, staring right at Samuel.
A sinister smile broke out on Sister Bravo’s face. “Father, he’s in the bathroom,” she said.
Father Sin stopped grappling, turned toward Samuel, and gave a fiendish smile. He punched Luciano hard in the face.
“Run Samuel!” his Italian friend screamed, biting the priest hard on the arm.
Father Sin grabbed his forearm. “Arrrrhhh, damn you!” Samuel slammed the door and locked it. A loud thud and the sound of heavy footsteps coming toward the bathroom sent him flying through the window.
Feet dangling, grip weak, Samuel hung suspended two stories from the ground, teeth chattering. A loud crash of splintering wood almost caused him to let go, as the metal creases from the windowpane cut into his hands. He looked up and saw Father Sin edging toward him.
“Don’t do anything else foolish, boy. We don’t want to hurt you,” said Father Sin.
Samuel, angered by such obvious bullshit, felt enraged, empowered.
“Go to hell!” he spewed through gritted teeth, and let go.
Samuel’s body seemed to hang suspended in the air, defying nature.
Father Sin lunged for him, but missed. Samuel watched the priest rise into the air as he fell away and crashed hard to the ground.