Chapter 6: Fox Tricks and Human Hearts

I don’t know how long I squatted in that tree—long enough for my butt to go numb—but the pastor never left his room.

Yawning, I stretched and looked down. A little altar boy, maybe six years old, was sweeping leaves under the tree.

He wore a navy vest and little khaki slacks—Sunday best even for chores. Bored, I jumped down behind him.

The little boy spun around, dropped his broom, and fell on his butt in fright.

I clicked my tongue. "Is it that bad? Do I look like a ghost to you?"

The boy shook his head. "Why are you still in the church? Don’t you know it’s closed today? Hurry and leave, or the town guards will catch you!"

He looked around as if expecting the sheriff to pop out from behind the azaleas. I waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving soon. Hey, kid, your Pastor Caleb—what kind of person is he?"

The little boy, all long legs, stood up and shook his head in awe.

"Pastor Caleb is wise and compassionate, totally devoted to his calling, helps everyone—nobody can match him."

I snorted. "You make him sound like a saint. How do you know he doesn’t sneak off to bars or break the rules?"

The boy’s eyes went wide. He almost covered my mouth.

"You can’t say that! You’ll jinx him for sure!"

He whispered, glancing nervously over his shoulder. I rolled my eyes. I know better than anyone if he’s broken rules.

"Y-you’d better leave soon. I have to copy verses now. Don’t get caught!"

He clutched his broom and ran off.

As night fell, Caleb still hadn’t left his room.

I’m not about to spend the night in a tree.

After some thought, I hid all my spirit aura, transformed into my original form—just a tail left—ran to his door, pawed at it, and let out a soft whimper.

The grass was cool under my paws, dew soaking through my fur as I crept up to the stoop.

I made sure to look extra pathetic, fur dampened just so, tail limp. Aren’t pastors supposed to be merciful?

If I show up as a harmless little thing, I can stay in his room for the night. Once he falls asleep, I’ll snatch my waist pendant back.

Perfect.

After a while with no response, I whined again, even more pitifully.

Sure enough, the door creaked open. Caleb, in white undershirt and black slacks, stepped over the threshold, eyes lowered.

He looked exhausted, the hollows under his eyes stark in the hallway’s yellow light. Seizing the chance, I darted inside, curled up beside the bed, and looked up at him with big, innocent eyes, pretending to be a pitiful stray.

Caleb stood by the door, half-turned, face unreadable in the shadows.

I had it all planned: if he kicked me out, I’d transform, fight, grab my pendant, and run. If not, I’d wait for him to meditate, then make my move.

After a silent standoff, he turned, closed the door, and—just like before—sat on the bed, closed his eyes, and began meditating.

Looks like he’s letting me stay.

Pastors are soft-hearted—too easy to fool.

I crept onto the edge of the bed. Seeing no reaction, I inched closer.

Three steps, two steps.

Just as my paw was about to touch the waist pendant, Caleb suddenly reached out and hooked it away.

I panicked, and, following the direction of my fur, leaped—

And landed squarely in Caleb’s arms, eyes wide as we stared at each other.

His breath tickled my ears, close enough to smell the sharp mint of his toothpaste. My heart thumped, and his hands, strong and sure, held me steady for a long, silent moment.

...

Damn it.

I’d always been the one to leave first, to vanish before dawn. Now I felt stripped raw, like he’d seen every secret I kept buried. His arms tightened around me—and this time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to break free.