Black Rite

by Allen Caraway

  ‘That’s very broadminded for a Catholic priest.’

  Father Kearney shrugged. ‘Just the way I’m wired up I guess.’

  ‘You’d think that being attacked by some kind of demon, if that’s what he is, would actually restore my faith in God.’

  ‘Not necessarily. When faced with something truly demonic, it can test even the strongest of faiths.’

  ‘Really?’

  He nodded. ‘I experienced a moment like that when performing an exorcism. Nothing I said or did made any difference. The demon, which had possessed a young woman, just laughed at me.’

  I gazed at Father Kearney in shocked disbelief. ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I focused my mind on the events that had created my faith in the first place, really dwelled on the emotions I had experienced. Then, when I had created a wonderful feeling of unquenchable faith and could feel God’s power spilling out of every pore, I resumed and successfully completed the exorcism.’

  ‘Wow.’

  He nodded again. ‘Sometimes God sends things to test us. Luckily, I was up to the challenge. Eventually.’

  We spoke for another half hour and then Father Kearney blessed the house, the guesthouses, cabins, outbuildings and the ranch’s perimeter. Before going out, we concluded that it was better to forgo my desire to give Lizzy some space. If we scared her off, tough. Blessing the cottage was more important. However, when we stepped inside it was empty. I walked around the living room looking for any sign of recent occupation. There was nothing. Then I checked the fridge in the kitchen. It was on, the door closed. I’d left it off, the door ajar.

  A-ha.

  Inside was a half-eaten bag of salad – my salad - a few slices of cooked meat, a loaf of bread and milk.

  ‘I’ve found my missing food,’ I said as I opened a cupboard and peered inside.

  Bingo.

  ‘Yeah?’

  I pointed. ‘Yup, here are my Cheerios and cookies. There’s more food in the fridge.’

  Father Kearney came over and looked into the cupboard. ‘Proof positive,’ he said and opened his bible.

  He blessed the ground floor and then we went upstairs. As he worked, I had expected some sort of response from the entity. A deep loud voice commanding him to ‘GET OUT!’ at the very least. Nothing happened. Afterwards, the entire ranch felt different. Lighter.

  At 8.40 p.m., Father Kearney sighed and said, ‘As much as I’d love to stay and drink more of your excellent brandy, I think I’d better make a move. A drunken priest weaving down Route 270 would do nothing for the Church’s image.’ He heaved himself out of his chair. ‘Thank you very much for lunch, dinner and the game of chess.’

  ‘And thank you for coming over. I can feel the difference.’

  ‘It was my pleasure.’

  He took a large plastic bottle from his bag and gave it to me. It had a cross and ‘Holy water’ printed on it in gold lettering. Despite my wavering faith, I found the sight of it comforting.

  ‘Sprinkle some on every door and window in the house at least once a week,’ Father Kearney said. ‘Combined with the blessing, that should be enough to keep it out. When you’re running low, feel free to come by and top up.’

  ‘Thank you, Father.’

  I walked him to his car and we shook hands.

  ‘Good luck, Son,’ he said. ‘And as to your faith, give it time. The Lord is always testing us, giving us problems to solve and to learn from. Maybe this is one of His lessons. I’m sure that one day your faith will return, perhaps even stronger than before, and I will see you at mass again. In the meantime, if you ever need to talk, about anything, you know where I am.’

  ‘Thanks again, it’s greatly appreciated.’

  ‘All part of the job,’ he said and winked at me.

  I watched Father Kearney puff and pant his way into his Civic, then drive away.

  ~

  The following week passed quickly. I worked, dug out a canvas, paints and my easel - a hobby I had let slip over recent months - started training Mick and Keith and went for long walks. Apart from that first night, the pups had settled in well and, despite recent events, North Oak now felt like home to me too.

  I left Lizzy alone. After Father Kearney had blessed Pioneer Cottage, I reverted to my intention of giving her time and space. She was probably trying to adjust to a world that she had wanted to escape, one that had changed dramatically since her death, and it was obvious that she did not intend to make contact, at least for now. I had to respect that, although it was extremely difficult to do so. I thought about leaving food outside Pioneer’s front door, but that would confirm I knew Lizzy was staying there and I was still nervous about scaring her off.

  On Sunday January 10, as the sun began to sink behind the Four Nations Alps, Beau Harkinen paid me an unannounced visit while I was working in the front yard. I looked up when I heard his decrepit Plymouth rattling down my drive and walked out of the gate to meet him.

  ‘Evening, Beau.’

  ‘Ah, there you are young fella.’ He slowly climbed out of the cab and closed the truck’s door, the rusty hinges creaking in protest. ‘Was just driving past and thought I’d see how you’re settling in.’

  ‘Yeah?’ I’d moved in on October 11. It had taken him long enough. ‘Coffee?’

  He nodded and smiled, exposing nicotine stained false teeth. ‘Thanks.’ Beau looked at Mick and Keith warily. They had barked when the truck pulled up, were still barking when he got out. Now they were silent, sitting on the blacktop and regarding him with interest, their tails wagging halfheartedly as if they couldn’t make up their minds if they liked him or not. ‘Do they bite?’

  ‘No. They’re friendly if you’re friendly. They’re just pups anyway.’

  ‘Yeah? How old?’

  ‘Coming on ten weeks.’

  ‘They’re big. What kinda dogs are they?’

  ‘English Mastiff.’

  ‘Mastiff? Whaddya want goddamn mastiffs for?’

  ‘To keep my feet warm at night,’ I said and beckoned him to follow me, Beau grinning at my joke.

  ‘They’ll do that all right. A woman would be better, though.’

  ‘They’re more expensive to run.’

  Especially strippers, I thought.

  ‘True.’

  We walked into the kitchen and I gestured towards the chairs tucked under my large pine table. ‘Make yourself comfortable.’

  Beau planted his bony rump and Mick and Keith promptly positioned themselves beside the chair and began sniffing his clothes.

  I made coffees, handed him one and put milk and sugar on the table. Beau ignored the sugar but poured in as much milk as his mug would allow and then began stirring.

  ‘I was real sorry about Gary,’ he said. ‘He was a nice guy.’

  If only you knew, I thought.

  ‘Thanks. And thanks for coming to the funeral.’

  Beau shrugged. ‘I was glad to be able to come and pay my respects. We gave him a good send off, eh?’

  I sat down. ‘We did.’

  Beau looked around. ‘Place looks different. Been decorating?’

  ‘Yeah and a bit of restoration. Gary had let things slip in recent years.’

  ‘I heard you used Stef Jacaruso’s crew.’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘Good boys. Work hard.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  There was a long pause, during which he took a few sips of coffee while making his habitual gum and lip smacking sound, and for the hundredth time I resisted the urge to suggest that he find a better set of dentures. A canine snore diverted my attention and I looked down. Mick and Keith were now lying beside my feet, snoozing, Beau forgotten.

  ‘How are you finding it,’ he said, ‘living here?’

  I studied him for a moment. He looked nervous, which I didn’t understand, and inquisitive, which I did.

  ‘Oh fine,’ I said. ‘Why do you ask?’

 
‘Just wonderin’. The history, y’know. Then Gary. Might put some people off.’

  I shrugged and made a face as if it meant nothing to me. ‘Apart from Elizabeth Dashwood and the murders, what else do you know about this place?’

  ‘Not much. Just that the original house was also the post office, which burned down and they built this place a few years later. Oh, and that North Oak was on the Oregon-California trail. Did you know that?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Gary tell you?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  I looked out of the window at the backyard and the forest beyond, mulling over the question that had appeared in my mind when Beau’s truck pulled up, and decided to hit him with a fastball to see what happened.

  ‘Do you think they’ll ever find Lizzy’s body?’ I said.

  Beau made a spluttering, choking sound, coffee spurting from his mouth. I got up and whacked him a few good ones on the back until the choking subsided, then sat down. Beau pulled a checked handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed his eyes, which had begun to water, and then his mouth, beard and clothes.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said in a hoarse voice.

  ‘No problem.’

  He took his time and I got the impression that Beau was trying to avoid my gaze until he had composed himself. Eventually, he stuffed the handkerchief back into his pocket and looked at me.

  ‘Saw it on the news, did ya?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  The nervous look was back in Beau’s eyes, stronger than before. Then I noticed something else that gradually overpowered it.

  Excitement.

  Beau shrugged. ‘I dunno. Let’s hope so, eh?’

  His tone lacked conviction and the evasive expression on Beau’s face convinced me that I had received an answer to my question.

  He glanced at his watch ‘Shee-yit. Forgot those damn errands I was s’posed to run!’ He stood up with a weary grunt. ‘Sorry to cut ‘n’ run, fella. Thanks for the coffee.’

  Beau left the house as quickly as his eighty-four year old legs would allow and hauled his skinny frame into the Plymouth, sketched a wave and then shot down the drive.

  I looked at Mick and Keith. ‘He’s hiding something, isn’t he?’

  They barked, tails thumping against the porch boards.

  ‘Thought you’d agree.’

  I assumed that Beau’s visit would be his first and last.

  It wasn’t.

  ~

  The following Saturday, Tony called me as I was staring into the fridge, wondering what to eat for lunch.

  ‘Wanna come over and watch the San Jose Sharks, Dallas Stars game tonight?’

  ‘Since when have you liked hockey?’

  ‘Got into it end of last season. I enjoy watching white boys punching each other.’

  I laughed. ‘Okay, I’m in.’

  ‘Cool. Did you know there’s a site dedicated to it?’

  ‘What, hockey players punching each other?’

  ‘Yeah. “Hockey fights dot com.” Check it out. It’s awesome.’

  I smiled wryly. ‘I’ll do that.’

  ‘Okay, bro. See ya later.’

  At 5.00 p.m. I took a case of beer out to the truck, replenished the pups’ water bowls, then washed up the day’s accumulation of dishes. By then it was twilight and despite the gloom, I didn’t bother to switch on the lights. Sometimes it was nice to stand there and watch my backyard and the forest fade into darkness.

  I turned on the faucet and was just about to squeeze washing up liquid into the water when something moved into my peripheral vision. I looked up.

  A woman was staring at me through the window, her expression one of surprise and alarm mixed with the desperate, feral look that some of the homeless possess. I flinched and gazed back in astonishment. She looked to be in her early thirties, had long ash blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, symmetrical fine-boned features and bright sapphire blue eyes.

  I had expected, hoped this moment would eventually come, but did not foresee the intensity of my surprise and shock when it did.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  For a moment, we just stared at each other, then I moved towards the door. Lizzy’s eyes widened and she turned and ran. I yanked open the door, almost falling onto the porch, the pups at my heels. Looked left and right. Couldn’t see her. Jumped off the steps, ran around to the front of the house and out of the gate, Mick and Keith hurtling past me towards Pioneer Cottage. I jogged after them, watching as they passed the cottage at full speed, then abruptly turned right and headed into the forest.

  ‘Shit.’

  Not good.

  ‘Mick! Keith!’

  I could hear them in the distance, their barks high with excitement.

  ‘MICK! KEITH! HERE! NOW!’

  My jog turned into a run. I shouted again, this time adding a loud whistle. A minute passed and then I saw them coming out of the forest a few hundred yards away. They trotted up the drive, tails wagging, tongues lolling, both clearly enjoying themselves. When they reached me, I patted them both, said they were good boys and was just about to walk forwards and scan the edge of the forest when I heard someone yell my name. I looked over my shoulder and saw Tony walking down the drive. His expression changed from a smile to one of concern.

  ‘You all right, man?’

  Remember the dead actress that Gary resurrected? Well, she was staring at me through the kitchen window just now. Kinda freaked me out, but on the plus side, she’s looking pretty hot for a ninety-nine year old.

  I decided to answer with an edited version of the truth. Not even my best friend would believe me if I told him that I’d seen Lizzy Dashwood.

  ‘Caught someone peering through my window.’

  Tony’s concern grew. ‘What? Do you think it was one of those fucks who’ve been burglarizing the valley?’

  I shrugged. ‘They looked a little wild, like they were homeless. Perhaps they were looking for somewhere to sleep.’

  Or figured I was out and was going to steal more of my food, I thought.

  ‘You saw them run over here?’ Tony said, pointing at the forest.

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘One.’

  He glanced at the pups. ‘Did they go after him?’

  ‘Like two small furry rockets.’

  Tony smiled. ‘But didn’t find him?’

  I shook my head. ‘No. I called ‘em back before they had a chance. They’d gone right into the forest and I didn’t want them coming across a cougar or a coyote.’

  Tony nodded. ‘Right. Do you want to take another look? Got Don, Jess and Will in the car. We can sweep the place.’

  ‘Yeah, thanks, man.’

  ‘What did the guy look like?’

  I nearly corrected him and said, ‘She’ then thought better of it. Best to keep my answers short and a little vague. ‘White, early to mid-thirties, blue eyes, blonde hair.’

  ‘Okay.’

  He ran back to his SUV, which was parked outside the main house six hundred yards away, and I walked into the forest, encouraging the dogs to find Lizzy. They ran around, tails high, noses glued to the forest floor, as we made our way deeper and deeper into the cool dark world under the canopies. As I walked, I wondered what would happen if we found her and how I should handle it.

  Guys, this is Elizabeth Dashwood. Y’know, the actress who killed herself back in 1950? Well, my psycho brother resurrected her using black magic ...

  Yeah right.

  Perhaps it was best if we didn’t find her, or perhaps I should just go looking by myself.

  So much for my intentions to leave Lizzy alone. God, I had so many questions to ask her.

  I glanced over my shoulder. Tony and the others were moving silently through the trees, their torches slowly sweeping the terrain, tracking Lizzy with the expertise of veteran hunters. Too late now. Quitting would raise too many questions. We followed Mick and Keith, b
ut they eventually lost her scent. Half an hour had gone by and we’d seen no trace of her. Lizzy didn’t want to be found.

  ‘Might as well call it quits,’ I shouted.

  ‘You sure?’ Tony shouted back.

  ‘They’ve lost the scent. Looks like they’re long gone.’

  ‘Okay. Sorry we couldn’t find him.’

  ‘No problem. Thanks anyway, guys.’

  ‘Anytime,’ they said in unison.

  As we walked back, Don said to me, ‘You got a security system fitted, right?’

  ‘Yeah. I upgraded Gary’s old system a few days back. Got lights and cameras fitted everywhere now.’

  ‘Getting the dogs was for, what; final piece of mind?’

  ‘Yeah, and a bit of company.’

  ‘Well if that dude sees the red alarm box mounted on your wall,’ Tony said, pointing at it as we reached the front yard, ‘and also sees or hears Mick and Keith, then he’d have to be a total idjit to try and get in. Knowing you, you’d greet him with a shotgun and a fuck-you smile.’

  ‘Fuckin’ a,’ I said, and left it at that.

  In six months’ time, the dogs would weigh at least one hundred and twenty pounds and be an effective deterrent. Now they were just cute. And even though my security system was monitored, by the time the sheriff’s office responded, a burglar would be long gone.

  ‘You closed the store early today, Tone?’ I said.

  Tony nodded. ‘Yup. It was dead. The whole town’s dead today. We came over in case you wanted to drink tonight and didn’t want to worry about driving. I’ll drive you home as well. Save some money on a taxi.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Yeah, no problem.’

  ‘That’s what happens when you quit drinking: you turn into a taxi driver.’

  ‘For my bros, no problem. Anyone else, order a real fuckin’ taxi.’

  I laughed. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Anytime.’

  I took the pups into the kitchen, patted them on the head and told them I would be back in a few hours, locked up and climbed into Tony’s GMC, sitting down beside Don.