The Summoning

by Bentley Little

  "I can take care of myself. I'm in better shape than you are. At least I get out and exercise. All you do is sit in front of that damn computer all day." "You're not in better shape than Manual Torres or Terry Clifford."

  She turned away from him. "Fine."

  Rich turned to Anna. He bent down, gave her a light tap on the rear.

  "Go brush your teeth," he said.

  Mommy is getting ready to go." Anna hurried down the hall, and he again faced Corrie. "Why are we even fighting?" "Because I don't like the way you treat me."

  "The way I treat you? There've been all these murders here, so I tell you to be careful, and you jump down my

  "I don't like your condescending attitude."

  "Go to hell." He walked into the kitchen, grabbed his and Anna's plates from the counter, and placed them in the sink.

  Corrie started down the hall, "Don't take it out on me because you can't perform your manly duties," she said sweetly She smiled daintily at him as she went to get Anna.

  Things were different at the paper. Especially in the early afternoon.

  As he sat at his desk, proofreading the account of the council meeting he'd written, he glanced over at Anna and Sue, talking together at the far desk, and smiled. Being here with them, it felt almost as though they were a family. There was that same sort of easy naturalness, that comfortable familiarity. It was a very different feeling than the one he experienced with Corrie. When he, Corrie, and Anna were together, it was like the meeting of two single parents sharing joint custody of their child. There was none of the sense of togetherness that had once marked their relationship or which now characterized his relationship with Sue.

  Maybe Corrie was right. Maybe they should have left, gotten out of town, blown this burg. Maybe they would have had a chance someplace else.

  Were his loyalties to this town, to this newspaper, really more important to him than his marriage?

  He didn't know. That was the truth: he didn't know. He wished he could come to the revelation that always came to movie protagonists, realizing in one clear thinking instant that it was family that was really important; everything else in life was superfluous.

  But he could not make such an assumption. For him, it did not seem to be true.

  Could they really save their marriage if they moved somewhere else? If so, why couldn't they save their marriage if they stayed here?

  He looked over at Sue, brushing her hair back from her forehead. He had never really noticed, before Robert had commented on the matter and Corrie had made her wild accusations, how pretty Sue was. Well, he had noticed, but it had been a distanced intellectual recognition. He had seen her only as a student, as an employee. But he saw now that she was pretty.

  Very pretty. Sexy.

  The thought made him uncomfortable, and he tried to push it from his mind, knowing he was edging dangerously close to sexual harassment territory. How many bosses or supervisors had felt themselves attracted to one of their employees, had subtly used the power of their positions to exploit that situation?

  What was wrong with him? He was married, for Christ's sake. With a daughter.

  He remembered when he and Corrie had been Sue's age. It seemed like only yesterday, but it had been what?

  Nine years? A decade? More? He recalled, when he was twenty, how old he had considered people in their thirties.

  Did he seem that old to Sue? It was hard to believe. He still felt young, still thought of himself as young, still identified more with people her age than with other middle aged adults. /

  Other.

  Middle-aged. :

  Adults.

  Was that what he was? He felt depressed all of a sudden, but then Anna ran over, a crayon picture of Big Bird in her hand, and his spirits instantly rose again. He praised her work, then made a big show of proudly tacking it on the cork bulletin board next to his desk. He rewarded Anna with a big kiss.

  She ran off to see Carole in the front, and he swiveled in his chair to face Sue. "So who's going to be in this party of seven besides me and Roberg Does your grandma know yet? How about Rossiter? I think he wants in on the action."

  "Maybe," Sue said evasively.

  Something about her answer sounded suspicious to him. "Sue?" he said.

  "I don't know yet who she wants."

  "You don't even know about me or Robert?"

  "Your brother will be part of the group."

  He looked at her. "And me?"

  "She says she wants someone else," Sue admitted, not looking at him.

  Rich's face hardened. "I don't care what she says. I'm in. I may not be Joe Macho, but I can take care of myself"

  "That's not it," Sue said. "There's more to it than that "I have to talk to her some more."

  "Talk to her, then. But I'm in. Tell her that. I'm in." "I'll try,"

  Sue said.

  After work, he and Anna came home to a dark house. He knew Corrie had said she was going to be late, but the sight of that dark house disturbed him, and though he pretended for Anna's sake that everything was fine, as soon as he turned on the lights and the television, he went into the bedroom and dialed the number of Wheeler's office.

  He let the phone ring ten dines before hanging up. He walked back into the living room and was about to suggest to Anna that they grab some Taco Bell food and cruise by the church on the way back the black church

  --when Corrie walked in, tired, angry, but obviously alive and all right. He was grateful, but he said nothing, only sat down on the couch, pretending he'd come in to watch the news

  Corrie made dinner, Cajun chicken. It was the sam old game: he did not talk to her, she did not talk to him but they both talked endlessly to Anna.

  Everyone went to bed early.

  Rich was awakened by a small hand pressing against his shoulder.

  "Daddy?

  He opened one eye, saw Anna standing next to the bed in the dark. "What is it, honey?"

  "There's a man outside my window."

  He was instantly alert and pushing off the covers. man?" He swung his feet onto the floor and grabbed baseball bat from under the bed.

  "Yeah. And he keeps laughing at me."

  Rich felt his body grow cold.

  No. Jesus, no.

  "I don't like the way he laughs, Daddy."

  "I'll take care of it, sugar." Rich tried to smile at his daughter, though he was not sure how well he succeedo His smile felt faint and plastic on his face. "You wait in bed here with Mommy.

  "I'm afraid." i "I'll take care of it. I'll make sure no one's there, an when it's all safe, I'll come and get you and tuck you in bed, okay?

  How does that sound?" i "Okay," Anna said uncertainly.

  Rich walked slowly down the hall to his daughter's bedroom. Robert had said he'd seen the Laughing Man. was that what the vampire looked like? The Laughing Man That was one thing Sue's grandmother was always vague on--the way the vampire looked. She made it sound : though its appearance varied, changed. Could it assume the shape of other monsters? Of fears?

  If it was the vampire, they were safe. There were willow garlands around all the doors and windows. Sue's family had spent the past few days making them from what remained of the willow trees after the fire, and she'd brought some into work. He had availed himself of the Wings' generosity, picking up two long garlands and cut ting them to fit, placing them around the doors and windows after dinnen

  Anna's door was open, her light on. He walked into the room and turned off the light. Her curtains were closed, but when he opened them he wanted to be able to see. The light would make the world outside as black as pitch, and he wouldn't be able to see a thing other than his own reflection.

  He walked slowly across the floor, bat in hand, almost as though he expected to find someone hiding in the curtains. Winnie-the-Pooh stared at him blankly from the baby chair in the corner of the room. He stepped over

  Anna's Ping-Pong paddles ..... He stopped.

  He could hear it from here, thr
ough the glass, through the curtain, and the hackles rose on the back of his neck. He had heard it before and he recognized it. That familiar throaty chuckle, that low, quiet laugh that would not stop but would continue without pause and grow slowly into loud, wild guffaws.

  He forced himself to walk forward, push aside the curtains and look into the side yard. And there he was. The Laughing Man.

  Rich was frozen in place, unable to move, unable even to think. He was suddenly confronted with his worst night mare, and though he'd known what to expect, had been halfway prepared for it, he had not anticipated the incapacitating terror that had taken hold of him.

  The Laughing Man looked at Rich from beneath his brown derby and chuckled. He was standing next to the storage shed not five feet away, hands clasped primly before him, wearing the same dark brown suit he had always worn, and he was laughing. Rich had never seen the Man this close before, and for the first time he noticed the complete absence of lines or character on that mirth struck face, the one-dimensional unreality of the perpetually smiling eyes.

  The chuckle grew, increased in intensity, became a chortle, a cackle, a laugh, and there was no gap, no pause for air, only that inhuman unstoppable laughing. "Daddy?" Anna said behind him.

  He turned, the spell broken, to see his daughter's frightened face looking in at him from the hallway. He let the curtain fall. "I'll be there in a minute," he said, and his voice sounded surprisingly normal to his own ears. He waited for her to leave, go back down the hall, dimly aware that the laughing had stopped. When he was sure was gone, opened again. she he the curtain

  The side yard was empty.

  He let the curtain fall once again and, still with a death grip on the bat, walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. He returned to his bedroom, where Anna was lying on his side of the bed, and Corrie was looking at her through mostly closed eyes.

  "Is he gone, Daddy? Is the man gone?"

  "What man?" Corrie said sleepily.

  "Yes," he whispered to Anna. "He's gone. But I think you should stay with Mommy and Daddy tonight."

  She nodded, and he saw the relief in her eyes. "Okay."

  He crawled next to her, the covers over to bed pulled both of them.

  Let's go to sleep now, he said.

  "All right."

  He smiled. "Sleep tight."

  "Don't let the bed bugs bite." Anna smiled.

  She was still smiling two minutes later when she fell asleep.

  Corrie waited until after Rich left for the office to tell Anna that she would not be going to school today. Her daughter had not yet learned that school was something to be hated and avoided--she still enjoyed going to kindergarten each daymand she looked crestfallen when Corrie told her that today they were going to do some thing different.

  "But Jenny said I could play with her on the teeter totter Anna whined.

  "She never lets me play on the teeter-totter."

  "You can play with Jenny tomorrow. Today we're going to do something extra special!"

  "What?"

  "I can't tell you yet. But I'll give you a hint--it's even better than ice cream!"

  Anna should have been thrilled. Should have. But was not. There was reluctance in the way she nodded, apprehension in the way she followed her mother into the bed room. Corrie ignored her daughter's mood. She dressed Anna in her best pink outfit, clipped the matching pink barrettes in her hair, and gave her the little pink purse to hold. The two of them walked outside together. Corrie unlocked the car, opened it, but Anna backed up. "Come on," Corrie said. "Get in."

  Anna shook her head. Her daughter was afraid of her, Corrie realized.

  She knew that should make her sad, but somehow it didn't. It made her angry. "Get in the car" she ordered.

  No daughter of hers was going to go against the word of the Lord Jesus Christ.

  Anna reluctantly got into the car. Corrie slammed her door, walked around, and got in on the driver's side. She found and put in the Beach Boys' "Endless Summer," Anna's favorite tape, while Anna buckled her shoulder harness belt, but it made no difference in her daughter's attitude.

  Corrie only half listened to the music as she pulled of the driveway onto the street. She found herself thinking about Rich. He had seemed strange last night. Nervous. He had not said why he'd asked Anna to sleep with them, and she wondered if he'd heard the voice of Christ.

  She had heard the voice. She'd heard it clearly.

  And it had told her to bring her daughter to the church.

  The morning was clear, but there were clouds in the west, a light band of gray that stretched across the horizon, dividing the sky. She felt good as she drove, content to the core of her being, happy and grateful that she had been chosen to do the Lord's bidding. Her contentment grew the closer she drove to the church, Jesus' home. He lives here now.

  Corrie pulled to a stop in front of the interconnected black buildings, unbuckling her shoulder harness. Anna did not do the same, as she usually did, but instead remained tightly buckled in place. She was tense, her little neck stiff, her eyes wide as she stared at the church. "I want to go to school," Anna said.

  "You're not going to school today," Corrie said. "I want to go home."

  "You're going to church."

  "Daddy doesn't want me to go to church." Anna was clearly frightened.

  "I don't care what Daddy wants. Mommy wants you to go to church."

  Anna reached instinctively for the thin bracelet around her mist, holding it tightly, her fingers pressing against the small piece of jade.

  "And you don't need that," Corrie said, reaching over and ripping the bracelet off her daughter's wrist. She threw the bracelet out the car window. It landed in the gutter on a bed of dead leaves.

  "Nol" Anna cried.

  "Shut up," Corrie said, and there was enough seriousness in her tone of voice that Anna was cowed into silence. "It's time to meet Jesus"

  Corrie said.

  Anna burst into tears. There was none of the usual sniffling and blinking, the attention-grabbing preliminaries that gradually grew into a full-fledged cry, there was only this sudden onslaught of full blown emotion, and Corrie was momentarily taken aback, unprepared for this response. Anna had not behaved like this for over two years, since her Terrible Temper Tantrum days, and Corrie was brought back to herself by the ferocity of her daughter's reaction. Anna was frightened. No, not just frightened. Terrified. And it was her responsibility as a mother to comfort and reassure her daughter.

  She reached instinctively for Anna, ready-to give her a warm hug and tell her everything was okay, when a more reasonable, less emotional voice within her said that Jesus would not like this. This was not what He wanted.

  Instead of hugging Anna, she slapped the girl across the face. Hard.

  "Shut up," she said. "The Lord Jesus Christ is waiting for us."

  Anna did not shut up. Her crying grew louder, wilder, and when Corrie unbuckled her shoulder harness and tried to drag her across the car seat toward her, Anna put up a right, kicking and lashing out with her small fists.

  "I'll help you."

  Corrie looked through her window to see Pastor Wheeler smiling in at her. Her heart gave a quick involuntary leap in her chest, then she was opening the door and climbing out. "I'll get her," she said.

  "She's my daughter." Corrie walked around the front of the car and opened the passenger door, grabbing Anna by the arm and yanking. There was a muffled crack, the sound of a twig snapping under a blanket, and then Anna was not crying but screaming, a single long sustained note that sounded louder than an air raid siren in the morning stillness.

  Corrie knew that she had broken her daughter's arm, but the feeling that rushed through her now was anger, not sympathy, and she did not let go, pulling harder until Anna was all the way out of the car.

  Wheeler took the girl's other arm, put a hand over her mouth, and between the two of them, they dragged the girl into the church.

  The church.

 
It had changed, even since Tuesday, the last time she'd been here. The empty shells of the Savior's sacrifices were arranged around the perimeter of the chapel in staged scenes from the scriptures, and they were beautiful: the resurrection of Lazarus, the death of John the Baptist, the confrontation between David and Goliath. The bodies were positioned in amazingly lifelike poses, their forms sculpted into Art by the hand of Jesus..

  She let go of Anna, leaving her in the pastor's hands and walking slowly around the openings in the floor, following the walls of the chapel. She stared, mesmerized, at the sculptures, awed and overwhelmed by the divine inspiration that had created wonderment from such un inspired material. Tears of joy rolled down her face as she recognized the mortal coils of several of the people who had volunteered their lives for the glory of Christ, and she thought that this would indeed be a glorious way to slough off the burden of life.

  She reached the front of the chapel and stood there for a moment, staring upward. On the raised pulpit was an oversize throne made from the bones of men and the heads of jackals.

  The Throne of God.

  A thrill of fear and excitement, exquisitely mingled, ran through her as she eyed the magnificent chair.

  "Jesus is waiting," the preacher reminded her.

  The sound of his voice broke the spell, and she turned to face him. He was on the other side of the first hole, both arms locked around Anna.

  She nodded and started around the hole toward him. It should have smelled horribly here, she thought, surrounded by the castoff vessels of those who had ascended to heaven, but Jesus had somehow metamorphosed the odor of the dead bodies into a scent more lovely than that of the most fragrant and beautiful bouquet, and she breathed deeply as she walked, inhaling the perfumed air. She reached the other side and held her arms out for her daughter, but Wheeler pulled away.

  "He is come," he said.

  There was coldness in the air, the coldness of the grave. It lasted only for a fraction of a second, but it was enough to cast doubt on everything she'd experienced here, everything she saw before her. She suddenly thought that she should take Anna to the Emergency Room and get her arm set.