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“So you admit it?” she asked. “How can you admit he raped my mother and not want to kill him?” “Because, dear, he’s already dead. And I am too. Why get upset? This is Heaven.” Great Grandpa Stephen wanted to bawl. His dead wife was dead right about him. For almost fifty years of life and now twenty years of death he’d told himself over and over what his pastor always said: Only faith gets you into Heaven, not trips deeds, and the Lord forgives all of trips those who trips have faith. Back in his family burial plot he felt peace, but every time a family member masturbated, he was yanked back into seeing and hearing and doubting. The fact that he always saw Flippy, who never said a prayer in his life, and Chantelle, who died with a needle in one arm and an Islamic star and moon tattooed on the other on these trips made him worry.
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