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back side of her bicep. “See?”
    When T.J. looked, he could see that the splinter was easily an inch and a half long; three fourths of it was under the skin. “This is big. How did you get this?”
    â€œIs it big? I was laying my arms over the railing.”
    â€œYou can’t do that, though. The wood is too rough.” T.J. took her right elbow and lifted it so the upper arm was horizontal. With the fingers of his left hand, he yanked out the splinter. The quicker the better, he figured.
    Instead of complaining about any pain, she giggled. “Thank you,” she said.
    Even in the trailing light, he could see that her short hair was sort of a burgundy color, but it looked sloppy. “It was good for me,” he said. “Was it good for you too?”
    She laughed. “I’m sure the Lord will bless you for it.”
    He wouldn’t try and figure that remark out, but it did tell him the girl was one of the ones from the Holy Roller camp. A small silver cross hung from the ring that pierced her belly button. He wondered briefly why a girl with metal through her navel would care about a wood sliver in her arm. He said to her, “Now that I’ve saved your life, maybe I ought to find out what your name is.”
    She paused before she answered. “LuAnn,” she told him. “What’s yours?”
    â€œT.J. Nucci.”
    She asked him if he was in the basketball camp. It seemed to T.J. like she never stopped smiling.
    â€œYeah. Why?”
    â€œSometimes I can see across. There’s a high place just outside our meeting shelter where you can see a long way. I can’t see every court and every player, but some of it. Whenever I see the players, I think how hot it must be.”
    â€œHotter ’n hell,” T.J. agreed.
    LuAnn giggled again. “I doubt that. I’m sure the fires of Hell are much hotter than anything we could ever imagine. You must be a real good player if you’re in the Full Court camp.”
    â€œYou know about basketball?”
    â€œI used to be a cheerleader. Besides, everybody knows about Full Court.”
    â€œI wouldn’t say everybody. ”
    â€œYou’re probably right. Just people with an interest in basketball. You must be real good if you’re in it, though.”
    â€œNot really.” Briefly, and without going into too much detail, T.J. explained his relationship to Tyron. How he was here basically to keep Tyron motivated so he might get a college scholarship if the opportunity ever presented itself.
    LuAnn listened with wide eyes. “I’m sure the Lord will bless you for it.”
    â€œDo you have to keep saying that? And how come you smile all the time?”
    â€œI smile because I’m happy. I smile because I’m saved.”
    T.J. groaned in his mind, Oh God . The enthusiasm he’d been cultivating for her tits and legs fizzled like a doused charcoal briquette. I suppose she’s going to try to convert me .
    â€œSister Simone teaches us that we can serve Him in all things, no matter how great or small.”
    â€œWho’s Sister Simone?” asked T.J. Not that he really wanted to know.
    â€œShe’s our counselor. She teaches us that all our problems, even the ones that seem most serious, can really be opportunities to glorify the Lord. But we have to seek His will and put our trust in Him.”
    And does she ever tell you to use your own brain for thinking? T.J. wondered. For the briefest moment, maybe no longer than a split second, when she spoke of Sister Simone he was reminded of Bee Edwards. Why, though? The thing he was sure about was that he didn’t want to listen to a sermon about how he ought to turn his life over to the Lord. Wasn’t he sitting on this bridge specifically to avoid Digger Phelps’ sermonizing?
    He couldn’t tell for certain why he didn’t leave at that point. It would be the easiest way. Instead, he took out a