Isabel's Light

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Isabel's Light Page 9

by Andy Jarvis


  He walked again, this time right out into the aisle. “Do you know?” he said, quietly leaning over a man in the third row. The man shook his head and shrugged. “How about you?” he said to another.

  A woman in the eighth row was rebuked with a loud “Ha!” as she pointed skyward, followed by Reverend John’s swift march back to the altar.

  “Or you?” he snapped, pointing straight at Baz. “I shall tell you where it is!” Reverend John boomed, throwing open his arms before Baz could speak. He then bent forward, pointing at the ground, his boom quickly turning to a whisper, “It’s here. Look around you. The bountiful Earth gives forth its fruit in ever increasing abundance. We want for nothing in our material oriented world. We live lives that are unimaginably good.”

  He stood upright. “And where is Hell?” he boomed again. “Turn on the telly! Read a newspaper! What do you see? A world being smashed apart by war, famine – it’s very heart torn out by greed and exploited by the short-sighted. But that’s alright you say. It’s not me. I didn’t start it. Not my fault,” he said, pounding his chest. “What can we possibly do, you say? We laugh, we dance…we drink and celebrate almost like senators at a Roman orgy. Frivolity! Frivolity is in itself no sin; it has its time and place. We should unwind, it is only right. It is human nature to enjoy the fruits of one’s labour. But as Christians, can we indulge with a clear conscience? What have we to rejoice? A kingdom of Heaven that awaits us, though we build our way to it in a Tower of Babel erected upon the bodies of Third World poverty? Then what? We retire to clean sheets, clean conscience, dreaming sweet dreams while humanity destroys itself? Apathy, you see, is the true darkness in mankind. Apathy is sin. Apathy is ugliness.”

  He paused again for what seemed another full minute. The congregation sat motionless. I swear that someone deliberately dropped a pin nearby.

  The vestry door creaked and out came Thomas followed shortly by another altar boy in this dowdy looking sackcloth sort of cassock with his hood up. Thomas went about his business in silence, while the other, looking like a little monk followed him. Reverend John leafed through his sermon as Thomas arranged candles at either side of the church this time, then knelt before the altar and blessed himself with the sign-of-the-cross. The other followed him but he neither touched the candles nor blessed himself, then they both departed to the vestry.

  “Inherit the earth!” Reverend John boomed again, raising his outstretched arms. “What a prospect! How can that promise come true? Everywhere we look it seems the aggressive, the high minded and selfish gain the upper hand, taking what they will. Where do the meek come into the picture?

  “The Bible says, according to Proverbs 13:27” he spoke softly again: ‘One who is good will leave an inheritance to sons of sons.’ Surely this doesn’t just mean leaving our wealth to our children. It means we must leave a world fitting for all of God’s children wherever they may reside, a world still worth living in, free from poverty, war and disease. That was surely God’s intention when he created Man.

  “The definition of meek is that which is gentle, mild or submissive. But behind that gentleness there must be a will of steel,” he said loudly, clenching a fist. “A strength of mind that enables one to endure suffering without resentment, to endure hardship yet still be charitable, not because of our fear, or guilt, but because of our simple and unconditional love of God.

  “Are you strong enough to be meek?” he said waving a pointed finger across the congregation. “Will you be among the meek who inherit the earth? For such, we must not only make sure that the promised inheritance is available, but also through our charity restore it to its glory in the name of God.

  “In Revelation 21:4, God tells us that in the promised new world he will ‘wipe out every tear from eyes and death will be no more, neither will mourning nor outcry nor pain be any more.’ It is our duty beyond doubt to create that promised new world; a world fitting once again for our children and our children’s children. And according to Luke 23:43, what is promised is no less than Paradise. Will you be among the meek who inherit Paradise?

  “Will you?” he whispered loudly, pointing to no one in particular to the left of us. “Or will you?” he repeated to the other side of the congregation. “Or will we even have a Paradise to inherit?” He finished, quietly bowing his head and letting his hands drop to his side.

  The congregation sat in stunned silence as Reverend John turned to the altar. Baz clapped twice before I nudged him sharply.

  The silence was next broken by the first clink of coin onto collection plate, followed closely by Mrs. Cass and Louis Armstrong’s Wonderful World. I love that song. Pretty good choice for a church gathering, I thought, especially after that speech. Fairly contemporary and a change from the stale old hymns you usually hear. I was really beginning to dig Reverend John’s style.

  “Hey, did you bring some change?” I whispered as the sound of collection plate drew nearer.

  “We’re okay,” whispered Baz. “I got a couple of pound coins.”

  The clinking sound became intermittent. I looked around briefly. The plate was still at the back, just starting on the seated folk.

  “I think we’re okay anyway. By the sound of it I don’t think everyone’s chipping in,” I whispered.

  A couple more minutes passed. The clinking sound became less often.

  “Yep, definitely okay,” whispered Baz.

  A few more minutes passed. Reverend John returned to the front with a large prayer book that he leafed through.

  The collection plate arrived, extending along the front pews left of us. I craned my head to look, but saw only the back of the collector as he passed the silent plate. Then it came at last, across the pews to us – stuffed to overflowing with bank notes. Big ones. Not a coin in sight. Smothered to death by the good will of the Meek.

  Baz looked drop-jawed at it.

  “Wallet,” I hissed, as the plate hovered.

  “What?”

  “Stick a couple of fivers in – pay you later.”

  Baz looked at me fretfully as he opened his wallet and showed me a row of twenties. I nodded. Reluctantly he threw one in the plate. I made the usual hand gesture, and in went another. I turned and smiled up at the collector – Silas!

  “Hey, I want a word with you after!” I hissed.

  Reverend John once again drew the attention of the congregation, as Silas retreated silently. It was all eyes down for the full house as Reverend John began to softly chant.

  Thomas appeared, busying himself behind with chalices and wine carafe, before departing once again. I think this was for the Communion bit, where Reverend John takes the holy wine and bread and tries to convince everyone it’s the body and blood of Christ. As if.

  “Do we get a drink as well?” whispered Baz, as most of the congregation filed to the front.

  “Doubt it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Would you buy a round for all this lot?”

  There was a final hymn. All stood and eyes went down again as the house began to sing, followed by more prayers.

  We seated again as the rest of the service continued. I looked up, still unable to concentrate after Silas’ appearance. The vestry door opened, and the hooded altar boy came out. He knelt briefly before the altar then turned and stood silent, head bowed and perfectly still, a few paces behind Reverend John to his right.

  As Reverend John softly read, the boy looked up and pulled back his hood. Her hood. Long flowing red locks cascaded below her shoulders and green shawl, and penetrating green eyes looked up at Reverend John as he spoke. Ruby lips broke into a smile as she listened to him reciting his softly spoken spell.

  Very progressive I thought, especially for Reverend John, to have an altar lady. I’d heard of women vicars before but not this. She was twenty something and something else – gorgeous.

  “He’s a bit of a dark horse on the side, is RJ,” I whispered.

  “Too right,” whispered Baz

  It was
no good. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t concentrate on the prayer. I kept glancing up, hoping to catch her eye. Maybe a drink and a chat in the Bell that evening? I could imagine me and Baz coming to blows over this one.

  I wasn’t sure what part of the service she was, just standing and smiling at the back of Reverend John, but after a minute she wandered behind him over to the Window-without-Adam, and stood, hands clasped across her front staring up at it. The sun broke through the clouds illuminating the stained glass, which bathed her in rainbow colours, with hair that glowed like embers on the log fire at the Bell.

  “And that is today’s service,” concluded Reverend John. “Go now in peace to love and serve the Good Lord in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”

  Clouds passed over and the light faded. And like wind dissolves rainbows on a blustery day, the colours disintegrated – taking the lady with them.

  Baz let out a huge gasp. Reverend John stared dumbfounded at him, then spun around to look at the Window-without-Adam as the last fragments of the lady vanished.

  I was momentarily paralysed. Every hair on my body felt to be charged with electricity.

  A woman behind screamed and all eyes turned to see her stagger into the aisle and collapse to the stone floor with a thud. The congregation rushed towards her and a man propped her up, gently slapping her face and calling for water.

  Reverend John pushed his way through the melee as the man tended. “Is she alright?” he said, as the woman spluttered to life.

  “I think so,” said the man. “She’s just had a funny turn. Cora, can you hear me? How do you feel now?” the man said, stroking her arm and trying to make her have a drink.

  It was just then that Arden tapped me on the shoulder. “What gives?” he said.

  “Where the heck have you been?” I demanded.

  “I’ll explain later. Now, what’s going on? Why did she scream like that?”

  “What do you mean, what’s going on? Didn’t you see it?” I pointed to the altar. “How long have you been here?”

  “For most of the service, actually. Why?”

  “We all saw it, didn’t we?” I said, appealing to the rest of the congregation. Clearly they hadn’t.

  “Saw what?” most of them asked, looking totally puzzled.

  “The, the…” I said, still pointing. I couldn’t say it.

  The woman began to choke and cough on the water, then lay still, panting for breath.

  Bending to one knee, Reverend John placed his hand over the woman’s. “Mrs. Braithwaite, come on Mrs. Braithwaite, you’re alright now.”

  Coughing violently, the woman sat up withdrawing her hand sharply.

  “Nice slow breaths now, Cora,” said the man. “Here take a little more water.”

  “Leave me be,” she said, still choking. She stared hard at Reverend John, then clearing her throat spoke: “I don’t know where you’re at, John Cannon. But something terrible, terrible is happening here! And you!” she cried, pointing at me and Baz, “I don’t know what your part is in all this, but you’ve disturbed something! You’ve brought evil to this community!” Then she burst into tears.

  “Come now, Mrs. Braithwaite,” said Reverend John, sternly. He stood up. “Let’s not be talking nonsense now.”

  “Reverend, what’s happening?” said Thomas, nervously tugging at Reverend John’s robe.

  “Hush now, Thomas, nothing to fret about. Mrs. Braithwaite has just had a faint, that’s all.”

  “Take me back home, Charles,” muttered Cora, tearfully.

  Charles and another man helped her up and they walked, half carrying her to the door.

  The service was finished, and the rest of the congregation dwindled. Most looked puzzled, while a few seemed nervous and frightened. Reverend John tried to calm them.

  “What did you see?” asked one man, looking around as he whispered to me. “Was it…was it her?”

  I shook my head and he walked quickly on. Others just walked by wondering what had happened.

  “What was all that about?” said Arden, pulling us away.

  “We saw something,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. It just didn’t make sense. Didn’t you see it? It was right up there, on the altar, clear as day, and then poof, it was gone.”

  “I didn’t see anything,”

  “Well what about her?” I said pointing to the departing couple. “It’s obvious she did, and so did Baz.”

  “I nearly wet myself,” said Baz. “Do you think she’s still about?” He looked about the church nervously.

  Suddenly we realised that the church was empty but for five people. We stopped talking. Reverend John stood a few paces away staring at us.

  Beside him stood Silas. “I think perhaps you should leave now,” he said.

  9.

  “I think Silas is right,” said Reverend John sternly. “Perhaps we should go too.”

  In the silence and aftermath of the chaos that had just been, Reverend John’s words were like an echo through the walls of the church. He stood firm, glaring, almost daring us I thought, to defy him. Silas began to leave.

  “No!” I said, stepping in his way. “Say it Silas. Say what you meant to say before. Is this what you were trying to warn us about?” Silas paused and opened his mouth to speak.

  “I’m warning you Silas,” said Reverend John, “say nothing.”

  “No, let him speak,” I said. “What does it mean Silas. What is mandrake? What’s the meaning of your verse in the allotment that day?”

  Reverend John strode quickly towards me, grabbing my arm with one hand and pointing a finger within an inch of my eyes. “I tried warn you to stay out of this, to mind your own business and get on with what you are being paid to do. You should go, forget what you’ve seen. It’s not your business.”

  “I think we have stalemate, don’t you?” I stuttered.

  “Oh you do, do you? And pray tell, what could you possibly have on me? What are you going to say, and who’s going to believe you?”

  “We’re in too deep, that’s what,” I said. “We saw it. I wasn’t a believer till now. I might not have believed my own eyes if it wasn’t for the old lady fainting. It’s like the place is haunted, but there’s more to it than that. Silas has tried to warn us, that’s for certain. Why?”

  “That old lady, as it happens, is on day release from a mental institution,” said Reverend John. “Where does that leave you? Perhaps you might be losing it yourself, eh? And I hope you don’t think because Staniforth here has my Records that you have some advantage over me? You have nothing. Why do you think I would give the Records over in good faith? But you? You have an awful lot more to lose! Why don’t you go back to your boss and tell him what you’ve seen then, eh?”

  “But we’re not trying to gain an advantage, Reverend,” said Arden. “It’s obvious that something has happened here today. Some people have left here frightened. I didn’t see anything myself, but I do believe in the possibility of the supernatural.”

  Reverend John shot a glance at Arden that could have scythed corn then turned back to me. He pulled me in close to his face and in a low growl said: “But you didn’t see anything now, did you?”

  “Maybe…well, maybe I just imagined…”

  “We saw the fen witch!” piped Baz.

  “Oh, did you now? The Fearn Lane witch,” said Reverend John turning to Baz but still holding onto me. “And pray tell what did she look like?”

  “Beautiful,” said Baz quietly. “Probably the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever clapped eyes on.”

  There was a long pause. Nobody moved. I panted heavily as Reverend John held on and stared at Baz as though still taking in his words.

  “She smiled at you,” said Baz. “I think she has a soft spot for you, Reverend.”

  Reverend John released his grip. “What did you say?” he gasped.

  “She smiled, kept smiling at you even. I wish the ladies would smile at me like that.


  Reverend John faltered as he walked up the aisle breathing and sighing heavily. He clutched the back of a pew. Silas followed, helping him to his seat and whispering silently into Reverend John’s ear.

  “Yes…yes, I think you’re right,” said Reverend John softly, and looking up at Silas. He clasped his hands together to his forehead, elbows on knees, taking long deep breaths. He remained silent for a moment then both whispered together as though in prayer.

  “This is insane,” I said. “An apparition that manifests itself by day, then smiles, but to only a few? And what was that Mrs. Braithwaite on about to me and Baz. What did she mean by evil? Is she really insane? That really spooked me. At least the…the thing, or whatever it was we saw acts friendly.”

  “Will someone please tell me what’s going on?” said Arden.

  Reverend John looked up. “Why were you late for my service?”

  “I was up rather late into the night, overslept a little, that’s all,” said Arden.

  “Spent some time surveying the Records did you?” said Reverend John. “Find anything, eh?”

  “Yes and no,” said Arden. “I mean I did spend quite a long time researching, and no I haven’t found anything…”

  “Incriminating? Perhaps you and your bedfellow Harvey were at it together last night, if you’ll pardon me putting it that way.”

  I placed my hand on Arden’s shoulder and quietly said: “Maybe you’d best leave.”

  “But I just got here. This is in my interests as well you know.”

  “I know. I mean no offence, but it’s obvious that the Reverend is upset. You’re not his flavour of the month at the moment. The fewer the better I think.”

  “But I’m in the middle of some serious research. A few answers wouldn’t go amiss.” He lowered his voice. “And I need to talk to you about something. Something has come up.”

  “What?”

  He glanced over my shoulder. I turned to see Silas and Reverend John locked together again in whispers.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” whispered Arden. “This should really be between you, Baz and myself.”

 

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