by J. S. Bailey
“Don’t worry,” Frankie said, wearing a smirk. “I’m sure we’ll make this worth your while. But now that we’re all here, it’s high time we make some formal introductions.”
Bobby saw Allison take little Ashley’s hand and lead her down the hallway at the other end of the house before disappearing through a doorway and closing it behind them.
“Anyway,” Frankie continued, scanning the room’s remaining occupants. “For years our circle wasn’t complete because one of our members felt it necessary to leave the state, but now he’s back. Bobby and Randy, meet Kevin Lyle, my successor.”
The pale man lifted his gaze and nodded at Bobby, then at Randy. “Hello.”
Bobby nodded in return, noting that nobody had ever mentioned Kevin when discussing former Servants.
Frankie went on. “I knew we would need Kevin soon because of the ability he’s been blessed with. You can imagine my delight when I learned it hasn’t diminished.”
Randy’s tired eyes lit up as he turned his gaze to Kevin. “Wait a minute. You’re a healer, aren’t you?”
Kevin gave a slight nod. “Frankie made me prove it still works.”
Randy looked back to Frankie. “Good grief, what did you do? Cut your hand off and have him stick it back on for you?”
Frankie folded his arms. “You mock me.”
“No offense, but it’s not that hard to do.” Randy refocused his attention on Kevin. “So if you can, will you?”
Kevin hesitated but then nodded. “Give me your hand.”
Bobby watched in fascination as Randy reached out his left hand. Kevin closed the fingers of his right around it and closed his eyes. Moments later, Randy’s skin took on its original tan color and the lines vanished from his face.
Randy lifted up his skull-patterned shirt and goggled at his torso, which was now free from injury but still contained dozens of stitches marking where the deep cuts had been. His voice sounded choked when he next spoke. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem,” Kevin said, bringing his gaze down to the carpet.
“Wait a minute,” Bobby said, the knot on the back of his head throbbing as if to remind him of its presence. “Can you heal me, too? I mean, I kind of bumped my head yesterday, and it really hurts, so…”
Kevin looked up at him with watery eyes and nodded. “Come here, then.”
Bobby felt all eyes on him as he crossed the room and stopped in front of the man. He reached out his hand as Randy had done, and when Kevin took it the low throb on Bobby’s scalp ceased. He didn’t need to touch his head to know the lump was gone. “Thanks,” he said, backing away.
Phil, who had taken a seat next to Randy on the couch, removed his black-framed glasses and rubbed his eyes in a gesture of utmost weariness.
Frankie scanned the room, his expression stern. “May we proceed?”
All heads swiveled to face Bobby, who swallowed. It felt odd that these people were looking up to him. “So what’s going on?” he asked.
“What’s going on,” Frankie said, “is that an angel visited me and said we would need Kevin to be with us again.”
“Was his name Thane?” Bobby blurted, and as soon as the words came out of his mouth Randy gave his head a sharp shake.
Frankie’s eyebrows rose. “Why do you ask?”
Heeding Randy’s unspoken warning, Bobby said, “No reason.”
Not appearing convinced, Frankie went on. “Now Bobby, I have to ask you this, and I need you to be honest. Are you planning on doing anything rash?”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems to me that the only reason we would need Kevin’s ability so urgently is if you’re in mortal danger.”
Randy spoke up before Bobby could reply. “Are you sure? I was in mortal danger for months.”
“This isn’t about you, Randy.” Frankie waved a hand at him in dismissal. “Well?”
Bobby’s pulse quickened as he raced through everything that had been on his mind in recent days. “I don’t think I’m planning anything rash.” Was he?
Frankie gave him a grim smile. “Based on what I’ve heard from some of the individuals in this room, rashness comes as easily to you as breathing comes to other people. That isn’t always a bad thing.”
“So what am I supposed to do? Coat myself in bubble wrap and not leave the house?”
“I want you to be careful and use your head. It would be most unfortunate if harm were to befall you so soon as the Servant.”
“I’m not a babysitter,” said a sharp voice.
Kevin was sitting up straighter in his chair.
“What was that?” Frankie asked coolly.
Kevin’s gaze darted back and forth among the room’s occupants. “You just want me to be here to make sure this boy stays out of trouble. I don’t want to be any part of that.”
Frankie opened his mouth but then closed it as he looked toward the hallway where Allison and Ashley had gone. “Let’s go to the back,” he said, moving toward the kitchen. “I don’t think our voices will carry as much from there.”
Shrugging, Bobby got in line behind Randy as the group filed through the kitchen into a solarium sitting at the back of the house. The many-windowed room was filled with white wicker furniture covered in blue cushions, and five of the men took seats in them. Bobby remained standing and watched as Frankie quietly closed the door.
“What exactly is going on here?” Bobby asked.
Frankie let out a sigh and planted his large hands on his hips. “It pains me to say this, but in the faith department, several members of this group are severely lacking.”
Guilt wormed its way into Bobby’s conscience. “I’m sorry.”
“I wasn’t talking about you, but if that’s the way you feel, then I advise you to listen as well.” Frankie eyed each man in turn but only addressed two of them. “Phil, what is it you’re so worried about? You used to believe that no harm would come to you even if you should die, and now you carry that gun around like it’s your only friend. And Kevin: why the long face? God’s Spirit once filled your veins, yet you still doubt that he has plans for you.”
The air was heavy with the silence of unspoken thoughts. Roger exchanged a glance with Frank the First, who shrugged and kept his focus on his grandson.
Frankie went on. “Randy, even you doubted when you boarded up your windows and pretended no one was home. You feared that God wouldn’t protect you from Graham, yet he did, even when Graham tried to kill you.”
Randy bowed his head. “I know.”
Frankie held his palms up, and Bobby was startled to see tears shining in his eyes. “This flesh is fleeting. Your pain is fleeting. It will be gone in the blink of an eye.” He drew in a breath. “Think of the glory of what will come. To be united with our Maker once and for all. To see Martin again. And Gary. And Jackie, and all the others. So tell me,” he said in a softer tone. “Why is your faith so weak when you know very well that God will save you no matter what happens?”
As Frankie’s words lodged themselves in Bobby’s mind and took root, he thought he understood why the man came across as someone to be disliked: in contrast to Bobby’s constant anxiety, Frankie literally feared nothing, not even the pain of death—a trait Carly claimed he’d passed down to his late daughter.
Perhaps part of Bobby, who feared many things, envied Frankie for that.
Bobby tried to swallow back a lump of emotion that had formed in his throat, but it stuck there, rendering him speechless.
“Let’s all sit in a circle,” Frankie said as he moved to the side of the room and plucked a jar candle and lighter off of a shelf. “Bobby, you may sit by me.”
As if the men had done this before, they each picked up whatever chair they sat in and dragged them all into the middle of the room, forming a lopsided circle. Frankie lit the candle and set it in the middle of the ring, then gestured for everyone to sit back down.
Bobby lowered himself into the chair to Frankie’s right, feeling a nervous e
xcitement build inside him even though he had no inkling of what was about to happen. Phil took a seat on Bobby’s other side and grabbed Bobby’s hand. Before Bobby could ask what he was doing, Frankie said, “No. Let Kevin sit there.”
Shrugging, Phil got up and switched places with Kevin. The older man settled into the cushion, hesitated, and took Bobby’s hand.
Frankie did the same on Bobby’s left, and likewise so did everyone else.
A giggle welled up in Bobby’s chest as he observed the six other men shamelessly holding each other’s hands like a group of kids around a campfire, but he quickly stifled it.
Frankie bowed his head. “Father, your Son endured the pain of the cross so that we, your children, might find everlasting life with you in a place free of pain, free of torment, free of sorrow, and full of peace. Let these men, your Servants, remember your love and protection. Grant them healing from their pain.” He gave Bobby’s hand a hard squeeze. “Bobby? Would you care to lead us?”
Bobby was so surprised he almost jerked his hand out of Frankie’s grip. “Lead us in what?”
“Listen to the Spirit. You’ll know.”
“Okay.” Bobby stared at the flickering flame dancing in the jar on the floor. It reminded him of how he would sometimes light a candle and meditate when things got rough in his life.
Then unexpected words formed on the tip of his tongue, and he said, “I’m sorry for doubting my place here. I know I was chosen for a reason, even if I don’t understand it.” Tears welled in his eyes. “I trust you’ll show me the way even when the way is dark.” He thought he might say more, but decided that those words had been enough.
Phil was the next to speak. “I’m sorry for missing Martin so much.” His voice became strained. “He was my best friend. And when I thought you’d take Randy away, too, I…I’m sorry. Never let me forget that what’s here now isn’t permanent and never will be.”
Then Randy: “I knew I’d be okay in the end, but I feared you wouldn’t protect me from pain. Well, you didn’t, and I’m still here, right?” He gave a sheepish smile. “But thank you for sending Kevin along to help. I appreciate it.”
A palpable sense of peace rose from Phil and Randy, and Bobby found himself smiling. He understood now. Their doubts and fears festered within them when left unspoken, and now that they’d admitted their shortcomings, they no longer hid their shame.
Bobby expected Kevin to speak up next, but the man kept his jaw clamped shut, and his breathing quickened as if he were starting to hyperventilate.
“It’s okay,” Bobby whispered to him. “Say whatever you need to. I don’t think anyone here is going to judge.”
Kevin stood up so abruptly that the wicker chair scooted backward several inches. His wide eyes darted around the room. “No,” he said. “No, no, no.” Then he eyed a door leading out of the solarium into the backyard and fled through it, slamming it shut behind him.
Bobby and the others sat there in stunned silence as they watched Kevin sink onto a stone patio bench and place his head in his hands. “This might be a dumb question,” Bobby said, “but what’s the matter with him?”
A look of sorrow passed over Frankie’s face. “You’re the Servant now. Why don’t you go find out?”
KEVIN HAD his elbows propped on his knees and was staring glumly at a chained brown and white spotted mutt happily chewing on a Nylabone.
“Hey,” Bobby said. “Are you all right?”
Kevin didn’t lift his gaze. “You’re nuts. You know that, right?”
Even though it made him uncomfortable, Bobby took a seat on the unoccupied end of the bench. “Isn’t everyone?”
“Heh. Maybe you’re right.” Kevin straightened. “If you’re smart, you’ll scram before things get worse. Just find a replacement and get out of here.”
Bobby offered him a wide-eyed stare. “Worse?”
“You’ll know soon enough if you don’t already. I used to be something like you. Young. Stubborn. Thought I could change the world if I tried hard enough.” Kevin pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes and shook his head. “I was just a young chump.”
Bobby couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Randy and Phil and I aren’t chumps. And Frankie…”
“Called me a coward before I left.”
Frankie sure wasn’t one to mince words. “Are you a coward?”
Kevin’s demeanor changed in an instant. “He never went through what I did. None of them did. They think Kevin Lyle is just some big pansy who didn’t have enough faith in God to do what he was supposed to, but it isn’t like that at all. They don’t know what happened. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them.”
Bobby feared asking but knew that he had to in order to get to the root of Kevin’s distress. “Well, what happened?”
“That can of worms doesn’t need opened again. I put a lid on it ages ago.”
“Maybe if you open it, the stuff inside won’t bother you anymore.” Lord, now he was sounding like Carly. “You know what I’m saying?”
“Does spilling your guts make you feel better?”
Bobby sent up a silent prayer that Carly would never catch wind of what he was about to say. “Maybe. Sometimes.”
“Why should I tell you, anyway? It’s not like we know each other.”
Bobby thought of Joanna, the woman he’d met last week at the safe house who’d basically told him her life story despite the fact they’d just met. “I think maybe it’s easier to talk if people don’t know you because strangers aren’t going to judge you as much as your friends.”
“Oh, geez.” Kevin gave his head another shake. “Do you really want to know?”
“Only if that’s what you want. And it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone if you do.”
Kevin lapsed into silence. The solarium’s occupants craned their necks to watch his and Kevin’s exchange.
Bobby wondered how well they could hear their conversation through the glass.
“I never told anyone,” Kevin said finally. “I mean anyone. I guess maybe because it hurt too much. Maybe not talking about it is just one way of coping. You know?”
It didn’t sound like Kevin had been doing much coping at all, but Bobby nodded. “Sure.”
“I was doing some work up in Seattle one summer. I’d just cleansed a guy. I found him in Seattle and we’d come back to Oregon so I could take care of him, and when he was better I went back to Seattle with him so I could find someone else who needed me. Let’s just say I was feeling pretty good about myself since he was so much happier now that they weren’t tormenting him anymore. I really felt that God had called me all the way up there for a reason.” Pain was evident on Kevin’s tired face. “Only now I look back and wonder if the voice I heard inside of me belonged to the devil instead.”
Bobby’s mind tried to conjure a scenario that might cause someone this much grief. His experiences of witnessing his father’s death and finding his neighbor’s bullet-riddled corpse had stabbed him in the heart, but he hadn’t been so traumatized that he’d moved to another state and stopped talking to everyone he knew.
Well, actually, he had. He’d left his hometown behind as soon as he was financially able, and he hadn’t lingered in New York after his neighbor had been shot.
Were he and Kevin really that much alike?
“So what happened in Seattle?” Bobby asked, not wanting to answer his unspoken question.
Kevin’s eyes were bloodshot. “I—I was walking down the street, maybe five or so in the afternoon. All the sudden I heard this ruckus in an alleyway I’d just passed so I stepped back a bit to see what was going on and saw a couple dogs getting into some trash that fell out of some knocked-over cans. I walked back there to scare them off because I didn’t want them to make a huge mess for someone to clean up later, and when they’d scampered I stood the cans back up and was about to start shoving all the garbage back into them when I saw…” Tears sprang into Kevin’s eyes, and he shook his head again and again a
s if to dislodge his memories from the forefront of his mind. “Oh, sweet Jesus. I wish I’d never gone back there. I should have kept on walking.”
“What did you see?”
Kevin’s Adam’s apple moved up and down, and his eyes took on an expression that gave him the appearance of one who had long ago lost his way. “A hand.”
Bobby wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. “A hand?”
“Yeah. A human one, about the size of my pinky nail. It was lying on the ground beside a torn trash bag.”
Bobby felt an icy chill as he tried to process this information. “You mean like a baby hand?”
“Smaller than that. My dad was an OB-GYN so he had all kinds of baby models and stuff lying around the house when I was a kid. The best I can guess, the hand was from a second-trimester fetus.”
“I’m sorry,” Bobby said somewhat lamely. Kevin’s words had conjured a crystal-clear image of the scene in his mind, and he forced himself to focus on the man beside him rather than become weighed down by the scene of Kevin’s pain.
“That wasn’t all, though. I sort of lost it a bit; started looking around for the rest of, you know, the body. So I moved the bag aside and found, well, more parts, and I got this crazy idea that I could use my ability to put them all together again so the baby might have another chance. I—I touched it, and prayed, only of course I can’t raise anyone from the dead, and I was crying so hard, and then I realized there were too many parts there for just one baby, so I went nuts and opened the bag the rest of the way, and…” Kevin’s shoulders shook. “I ran around to the front of the building to see what in the world kind of place would have that in their trash, and then it hit me. I was so. Flipping. Naïve. I—I ran back to the motel where I was staying and scrubbed my hands until they bled.” Kevin blinked as if only just remembering that he was sitting on a bench in Autumn Ridge, Oregon and not crouching down beside a garbage can in Seattle, Washington. “Why do you do it?”
“Why do I do what?”
“Help people. You do do that, right?”
The picture of Adrian Pollard walking out of the shower house flitted through his mind. “I help them because I care about them,” he said, feeling a shred of guilt at how angry he’d been when Jack told him who Mystery Woman was. Bobby cleared his throat. “When I was a kid I wanted to be a superhero. I was going to grow up and become Rescue Man.”
