The pebble arched in the air before lazily grazing the open shutters.

Michael asked, “Are you even tryin’?”

Kyle defensively responded, “Yes, I is!” He wrapped the elastic rubber around his hands and wrung the slingshot as if it was a damp cloth.

Michael snatched up the slingshot before he could break it and said, “Am, Kyle. You say I am tryin’, not I is.”

He frowned and asked, “Why?”

Michael snapped, “I don’t know! I didn’t make it up!”

“Why is you yelling?”

Michael rolled his eyes and said, “Why is you…? We have a lot of work to do. Take the slingshot, and pull it back like how I told you to. You can’t be scared of it.”

Kyle ran back to the road and scooped up a handful of sharp pebbles from the gravel. He held the slingshot handle in his left hand, and pulled back the scoop of pebbles with his right. Once the tension in the rubber caused his arms to shake, he winced away from it.

Michael asked, “How you gonna shoot with your eyes closed?”

Kyle cracked an eye open, grinded his teeth, raised his shoulders to his earlobes, and released the pebbles. They darted across the lawn and shattered the window, and the shards of glass falling onto the grass below.

Michael cupped his hands over his mouth and muffled himself saying, “Oh shit!”

Kyle raised the slingshot in the air and cheered, “I did it!”

“Run!” Michael grabbed Kyle’s hand and ran off around the side of the trailer.

The neighbor stomped out of his home and yelled, “Who did that? I’ll kill you!”

Michael carried Kyle like a sack of potatoes over his shoulder and ran off into the woods. Convinced the neighbor was chasing after them, he ran further and further until he realized Kyle was crying. He stopped and lowered Kyle off his shoulder and set him on a fallen tree trunk. “What is it, Kyle? Why you cryin’?”

Kyle gasped through his sobs and cried out, “He gonna kill us!”

“No, no, no. He ain’t gonna kill us. He’s just mad.”

“He said he would!”

"You think Jesus would let that happen?”

“Who that?”

Michael incredulously asked, “Who’s Jesus? You really don’t know anything.” When Kyle looked like he was about to break out in a fit of tears again, Michael profusely apologized. “I didn’t mean it like that.” He took a seat on the trunk next to the crying boy and wrapped an arm around him, “I mean you can know a lot, but that don’t matter if you don’t know Jesus.”

Kyle looked up to him with tears streaming down his mocha-colored cheeks. “Why?”

“Jesus will protect you when you pray to him, and nothing bad will happen. Okay? We just gotta pray. That’s all there is to it.” He knelt down in front of Kyle and instructed, “Put your hands together like this.” He guided Kyle’s hands in front of his chest and pressed the palms flat together, and then laced his fingers. He tilted his head down and said, “Close your eyes.” Michael sat back on his feet and hesitantly put his hands together and bowed his head.

He realized too late that he had cornered himself into the rouse. Truthfully, Michael didn’t want to speak to Him again, especially considering how poorly it went last time. Michael was just ten so he couldn’t know all the details, still didn’t, but he knew his only aunt could have adopted him. Michael prayed and prayed all night long for Jesus to let Auntie adopt him so he could get away from Papaw and this awful trailer park. Then once Auntie suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack, Michael told off Jesus in a fit and never spoke to him since.

Michael said, “Tell Jesus what you want.”

“I want to live, Gee-zus. I want to see my momma. I don’t wanna die, Gee-zus, please!”

“Kyle, look! There’s no more bad guy.” Kyle opened his eyes and looked around the forest and sniffled some more. “Let’s get you home, buddy.” Michael took him hand in his and guided him back to their homes.