Moon Over Manifest

Jinx shrugged without looking up. “I guess it started a couple of years ago when my mom got sick. My dad took off when I was little, so it was just my mom and me living in a one-room apartment in Chicago. We did okay for a while. She took in sewing and laundry. But when she got sick, my uncle Finn, my dad’s brother, said he could help me make some money for food and medicine. He taught me all kinds of tricks of the trade. Then, when my mom died, it was either end up in an orphanage or go with Finn. He took me on with him, kind of as his assistant.”

“And …?” Ned wasn’t dumb. He knew that Jinx had come to Manifest on the run, but until now, he had never pressed him for an explanation.

Jinx was tired. The canister felt heavy in his hands. He set it down, wanting to unburden himself.

“It was a mediocre con at best. Usually it was missions and tent revivals that worked like a charm, because people came looking for something and we’d provide it. But you had to have a mole, someone not known to be associated with Finn.”

Jinx took a breath. “I was the mole. I’d have some malady and Finn was the person with the cure for what ailed me. Sometimes I’d be blind. Other times crippled. But it was always something that would be visible to everyone there. Then, when Finn came along, he’d tell the folks about his elixir or balm that was a time-honored remedy from the natives of the Zambezi jungle or a special mixture prepared by a hundred-year-old Indian medicine man. He’d ask for a volunteer to try the stuff. I’d hold back and wait for someone to volunteer me. It was always best if they came up with the idea themselves.”

“A hundred-year-old medicine man, huh?” Ned said. “I knew it.”

Jinx grinned. “Yeah, so I’d drink it, or rub it on, depending what my ailment was. Then, with no small bit of drama, I’d be healed. Folks couldn’t get their wallets out fast enough to buy a bottle or two.”

“But isn’t that nothing more than lying, cheating, and stealing?” Ned asked.

“I guess I never looked at it that way. That’s what Finn did and I was with Finn.” Jinx grew silent, knowing that his answer had fallen flat.

“Go on,” said Ned.

“Well, there was a tent revival in Joplin. They were usually loud and raucous, with lots of shouting and arm waving in one part praise and two parts damnation. But this one was different. The preacher was quiet and gentle. He spoke like a neighbor chatting over the fence. He talked of how he’d done things in his life he wasn’t proud of. Said he’d had sadness and hardship that had left him wandering. Then he’d decided he didn’t want to wander anymore. He started singing and others joined in.” Jinx rested his hands on his knees.

“That song was about green pastures and restful waters. The preacher talked about walking in the valley of the shadow of death and not being afraid.” Jinx grew quiet, reliving the memory. “I’d never heard anything so nice. All Finn ever told me was that if it wasn’t for him, I’d be dead or in an orphanage someplace where they feed the kids rat soup and make them scrub toilets day and night. So I let that preacher’s words linger in my head and found myself wishing I could be in those green pastures instead of always sneaking into one town and hightailin’ it out of another.

“But pretty soon the service was over and Finn had to do his act and I had to get healed. Everything went off like usual until Finn and me were in the woods outside of town.”

The abandoned mine shaft seemed to fade away as Jinx revealed his story.

Finn was counting the money by the fire when a man sauntered into our campsite. “Hey there, Finn,” he said through buckteeth. “Long time no see.”

I sat up, thinking Finn would be surprised. But he didn’t act like it. “Hey, Junior,” he said without looking up. Finn just counted the rest of his money and stuffed it into his pocket.

“I’ve been living just up the road with my aunt Louise. Got my eye on a girl in town.

”

Finn didn’t answer.

“I saw you at the revival,” Junior said, sitting down at the fire.

“Yeah, I saw you too.”

“Boy, we had some times, didn’t we, Finn? Remember that job we did in St. Louis down at the freight house? We left those boys knowing who was boss, didn’t we, Finn?”