At an early age Finn Glover set out to be an outlaw. It wasn’t long after she made that decision that her mother, a woman of indomitable spirit, set out to thwart her every attempt at infamy. People often wondered which would happen first; would Finn give up or her momma simply grow too weary in her efforts to keep the girl on the right side of the law to go on living? Finn never felt she made a decision to pursue infamy, rather it was inevitable. It was her destiny.

When she was only seven she stood in the backyard with her father while he repaired the hutch for her gray flop-eared bunny, Benedict Arnold, and his new, speckled wife, Gypsy. She watched him as he hammered new chicken wire to the front of the raised enclosure. His skin shone from the sweat that poured down his bare chest, back, and arms, and his black hair fell shaggy in his face.

“Finn, git in here and put yer dress on! We leave for church in five minutes,” her mother called from the back door.

Finn did not move.

Wayne Glover stopped hammering and squinted at her. “Git movin’, little lady. You don’t wanna miss church.”

“Yes, I do. I want to stay here and help you with Benedict Arnold’s cage,” Finn said.

“You heard your momma. Besides, you’re a lady, only outlaws like me miss church to fix a traitorous rabbit’s cage.”

“I’m an outlaw too,” Finn said and worked up the biggest hawker she could to spit on the ground.

Her daddy laughed and poked her round belly with his rough finger. “You just might be an outlaw, Finn, but we can’t let your momma know I done misdirected you into it. So you go on and get dressed for church. This cage will be done when you get back and we’ll go down to the creek and fish for a bit.”

Finn hugged his neck and kissed his cheek. He tasted like salt and smelled like sunshine. “Okay, Daddy. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Finny. Now git.”

Finn sat next to her mother in the sanctuary of the small country church. The preacher was going on and on about hell and brimstone. “Hell is the only destination for those among us who sin. There is eternal damnation for the adulterers, fornicators, liars, and cheaters in this and other congregations” and on and on. Finn wasn’t exactly sure what adulterin’ and fornicatin’ were, but it must be real bad because Brother Raymond, the stout, one-eyed preacher, talked about it every Sunday. And every Sunday the front two rows of little old ladies fanned themselves, nodded their heads, and gave the occasional “Amen” while the old men fidgeted, coughed, and inspected their shoes.

After Brother Raymond finished warning the congregation of the burning lake of fire waiting for them upon their death (which could happen at any moment for the entire two front pews), the collection plate was passed, two hymns were sung, and the preacher opened up the altars for anybody who needed savin’.

Finn raised up in the pew and looked around. Freddy Campbell sat in the back of the church with his wife and new baby. The baby was squirming under Mrs. Campbell’s shirt probably looking for some lunch, but Freddy looked peaceful enough. Up two rows and across the aisle was Lana Pratt.

Mama said speaking Lana’s name aloud was enough to repent for, but this Sunday she looked content with the way it rolled off the tongue and into the ears of those who heard it. Finn had to stretch her neck even further to see the entire congregation of Jubilee Living Word of the Redeemer Pentecostal Church of God. She was looking for Coop Brown. Monday through Saturday he was drunk and mean (not always in that order), but on Sundays he was good to warm a seat, give some offering, and answer Brother Raymond’s call for redemption. If Coop didn’t answer, Freddy or Lana would slowly creep to the front with tears rolling down their cheeks and let the old ladies and their husbands lay hands and speak tongues until everyone was good and hungry and ready for a rest.

Brother Raymond tried real hard to get someone from the congregation to make their way to the front. He gave a message in tongues that Brother Carl Pike stood up and interpreted. God sent a message through Brother Raymond to tell his followers that indeed his words had come from the heavens and a fiery pit of hell awaited the sinners who sat disguised as the faithful in the Jubilee Living Word of the Redeemer Pentecostal Church of God. Finn felt right nervous that nobody was answering the Lord’s beckoning. She was afraid He was talking to her, but still didn’t know if she had been fornicatin’ or adulterin’, but she was an outlaw, and outlaws surely needed forgivin’.

Just as Finn decided that if Coop, Freddy, and Lana were all three right with God and didn’t feel the need to repent, the message must have been delivered to the church with the specific purpose of getting Finn Glover up to the altar, the front doors burst wide open and in walked the strangest sight Finn had ever seen in the sanctuary of the church.

Miss Melba Tate came up the aisle in a hurry headed straight for the pulpit. She was a large woman. Solid. She didn’t bother showing up to church most Sundays, but everyone knew Melba Tate could quote Scripture like nobody’s business. Most considered her a godly woman even though she had a son but no husband to speak of. Melba was wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, which was unholy for sure, but that wasn’t what got everyone’s attention. She had her right hand closed tight around the crimson ear of her son, Harley. He was waving both arms in circles at his sides and hollering.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he said as he feigned resistance. In truth there was no resistance because she had his ear twisted up so taut he had no choice but to follow her directly to Brother Raymond.

“Brothers and sisters, we have a mother needin’ God’s help with her poor, faithless, troubled son. Come on up her and show them we love ‘em.”

With that, Brother Raymond and nearly half the congregation swarmed around the little boy, put their hands on various parts of his upper body, closed their eyes, and began begging God to intervene before it was too late. Harley looked absolutely miserable. He turned his head toward Finn, who was snickering behind her hand, and stuck out his big, purple tongue. Finn only laughed harder until her mother whacked on the back of her head. Finn touched her hand to the spot and turned to find her mother fighting back laughter.

“Let’s get out of here before they pull you up there, Finn,” Momma said, standing and grabbing her purse.

At the church doors Finn turned and took one last look at Harley. Brother Martin Ward had him by both shoulders and was shaking violently. Harley's head was flopping all around while Brother Ward and his cohorts were shouting and having spasms. A few of the women lay on the ground with blankets thrown across their legs peaceful as sleeping babies.

Finn giggled while her mother dragged her from the church. "Finn Louise, get yourself together. It ain't right to laugh at the Lord's work."

"Sorry, Momma," Finn said, but she wasn't.

Finn knew something was wrong as soon as they opened the front door of the house. It was her daddy's custom to fry bacon on Sundays so they could have a sandwich or two when they got back from church. The smell of the bacon and the sound of her daddy singing were the best parts of the holy day, but neither was present on this particular Sunday.

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Her momma knew something was wrong too. "Wayne?" she hollered wandering through the house. "Finn, go change from your dress."

"But where's daddy?"

"He's somewhere. Now, go change before you ruin your dress."

"But --"

"Now." It wasn't in her mother's nature to shout. If she was hollerin' Wayne was chasing her around the kitchen table trying to kiss on her while she made dinner. Her current shouting only made Finn angry, and she stomped off to her bedroom.

Finn struggled to get the dress off. There were layers and layers of ruffles under the skirt and she got tangled in them. "Damn ruffles," she said, kicking the pile of mangled dress under the bed. "Don't know why I hafta go to church anyway. And if I do, why can't I just wear my pants like always?"

She was still cursing the restrictions placed on her by her attendance at the Jubilee Living Word of the Redeemer Pentecostal Church of God, when she heard her mother scream.

Three days later she sat in the front pew of the same church at her father's funeral. This time her mother let her wear whatever she wanted. She chose to leave the ruffles at home. She picked at a scab on her knee through the hole in her denim overalls and tried not to cry while her mother sobbed next to her.

All the old ladies of the church hovered over Finn that afternoon.

"Poor little thing."

"So small to lose yer daddy."

"Tut tut. Bless your heart."

It went on endlessly, and Finn hated every minute of it. She felt like a fish in a fishbowl. The waters and people were moving around her, but she could do nothing but swim in a circle gasping for air. That’s what her fish, Booger, did last year before they found him floating on his side and flushed him down the toilet. She wondered if maybe God was standing over his toilet in the sky waiting to flush. Then she would go swirling into the nothingness until she was in heaven. Or maybe hell. Right now she didn’t care which.

But she did care which one her daddy went to. She didn’t think he was of the mind to go fornicatin’ or adulterin’ so maybe he didn’t belong in hell. That’s what she told herself when she lay in her bed at night thinking about him. He couldn’t be in Hell burning in the fire lake or sittin’ thirsty and hungry at a banquet that never satisfied because that was no place for a daddy like hers. He was smart, and funny, and he always snuck her a bite of supper when Momma sent her to bed without any.

But he was an outlaw who didn’t go to church. The old ladies of Jubilee Living Word of the Redeemer Pentecostal Church of God had asked about him over and over, wondering why he never made it to service. Tired of hearing her mother make up excuses for him, Finn had asked him why he wouldn’t just give up his outlawin’ ways and shut those old blue hairs up for good.

“Well, Finn, church ain’t for everybody. I’m what you call an atheist, a non-believer,” he answered from under the hood of his truck where he tightened something or oiled something else.

Flabbergasted, Finn shrieked, “So you’re a sinner, Daddy?”

Laughing hard, he’d put down his wrench and picked Finn up so she could look into his face and he into hers.

“It’s true some people will say that, but I don’t believe church and God are the only things that make a person good. They help, but there’s more to it than just showing up.”

“But Brother Raymond says that if you don’t believe that Jesus, the bloody one on the cross at the front of church, not the baby in the manger, and ask him in your heart you will go to hell forever and get burned up every day.” Tears ran down her cheeks at the thought of her daddy burning.

He wiped the tears from her face with his greasy hand and kissed her forehead. “Don’t you worry about that, baby. Remember when I told you that I’d always be with you?”

She nodded her head.

“That was a promise and I keep my promises. That means I can’t go to hell. Now, stop crying and grab my wrench for me.”

Tired of the tut-tutting and seeing her momma was well attended to by the ladies of the church, Finn decided to slip off outside and find a shade tree to sit under. It was a good day for fishing and she hoped to dig up some worms.

She squatted and began her search by pulling up some grass. The dirt was cool and moist, perfect for worms Finn thought as she thrust a finger into the soil.

“Hey,” she heard someone say.

She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun to see Dylan Wilson standing with his hands in his pockets looking uncomfortable pushing a baby stroller back and forth in front of him.

“That yer baby?” she asked, wiping her hands on the front of her pants.

He nodded.

Finn peered into the stroller and saw a fat baby sleeping snug as a bug. She touched one cheek with her dirty finger.

“He’s fat,” she said. “Think the baby Jesus was this fat?”

Dylan smiled. “Maybe. Sorry to hear about yer daddy. He was always real good to me. Helped me fix my truck once when I broke down on the side of the road going to school.”

Finn quickly lowered her eyes, not wanting him to see the tears there, and nodded her head.

The two stood in silence for a moment, Dylan looking at the leaves in the tree and how the sun bounced off of them, Finn looking at the toes of her shoes thinking about how her daddy would tie them for her when she was younger and wishing they weren’t squishing her toes so badly.

“My dad died too when I was little.”

Finn jerked her head up to look at his face. She knew that but had forgotten. How do you forget something so awful about a person? Would people someday forget that her daddy died? She couldn’t bear the thought.

“My daddy didn’t believe in God. Did yours?” she asked him.

He looked at her and furrowed his eyebrows together. “I don’t know. Never thought much about it.”

“You think my daddy went to hell? For bein’ an outlaw and not believin’ in God?”

A worm crawled its way to the surface of the dirt. Finn bent, clasped it gently between two fingers and pulled it from the earth. She lay it in the palm of her hand and watched it wiggle.

“See that? You wanted a worm and you got one. That’s your daddy.”

“You mean he’s a worm?” Finn watched the brown tube squiggle, wide eyed.

Dylan chuckled. “No. I mean your daddy was watching out for you and you found what you were looking for. Now that I’m a daddy myself, I know all he would want is to make your life easier, better. So he did. I’m guessing he always will. He will be in the breeze that cools you on a hot day, the warmth from a fire when it’s cold, the fish that always bite, and the socks that you never lose. He will be everywhere, Finn. Always looking out for you. Always with you.”

The baby in the stroller twisted its face up and let out a scream that would give a snake goose pimples. Dylan had stopped moving the stroller and started again, shushing the baby.

“I wish someone was making life easier for me,” he mumbled before walking toward the church parking lot, shushing and cursing.

Finn watched him for a few minutes then sat down under the tree. She watched the worm as it crawled around on her hand, holding it up in front of her face. Deciding to let it go back to its home and family, she put it down near the space she had found it then lied back, looking up at the sun.

She closed her eyes and before long was asleep.

After some time, the cool wind blew through the tree, rustling its leaves loudly and waking Finn. She shaded her face from the sun with her hand and opened one eye. A bird flew over squawking its song and Finn smiled.

Maybe there was something to what Dylan had said. Maybe her daddy was in the wind and the sun and the bird’s song. Maybe he would be with her always. After all, outlaws had to stick together.