by mike Evans
“Okay, you are making the hairs on the back of my neck rise, ma’am.”
“Good, because otherwise I wouldn’t think that you believed my story.”
“I can assure you, Mrs. Parker, I do. Are you sure that you shouldn’t be telling this to the police as well?”
“Father, I’m scared to even tell you what I’m thinking. In all honesty, if I tried to tell a police officer or detective about what happened, they would probably give me a white jacket and a padded room. You can’t report me for being crazy, can you? I mean, that is against the rules of being a member of the church, right?”
“You’re safe here, Mrs. Parker. Now please, let's get to the start of what is going on with you.”
A voice cleared in the back, towards the holy water receptacle and entrance. Ralph was holding his hat in his hands and looking around nervously. It wasn’t many who had the privilege to be in the church when it was empty. Father Michaels looked around at him. “Excuse me, sir, can I help you with something?”
“Just checking on my friend there, father. I want to make sure she’s doing okay. I was worried she was going to jump on the roof if anyone scared her on the way in.”
Joan in the loudest whisper she could said, “I’m okay, Mr. Anderson... I mean, Ralph, I’m not doing much better in here, either.”
He hefted up his pants, pulling back his suspenders and took a deep breath. When he got to the pew, he tried to kneel down, but his knee screamed in protest. Father Michaels winced for him. Ralph looked up with beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow. He gave up on kneeling, waving a dismissive hand at the seat and did a quick sign of the cross. “Father, spot me on that kneel please. It isn’t anything personal, I just ain’t got the knees for Catholicism. I have a feeling that people didn’t live long enough back then to have bad knees.”
Father Michaels nodded, trying not to laugh. “She was actually going to break open and finally tell me what she was so worried about.”
“Damn it. Excuse me father, I didn’t mean to ruin that, darn. Look, Joan, spit it out would you, this young fella’s got all kinds of people to go out and save, or whatever they do during the day. Your boy’s going to be home from school pretty soon, and your other boy would love to talk to you. He said he isn’t used to you not being around and was saving you a plate of homemade chocolate chip cookies from the missus that they worked on this morning together. I’m pretty sure that little guy got more flour on himself than he did in the bowl. I haven’t heard Mrs. Anderson snort like that in some time. It never seemed like it was that funny when our own kids did it, but you get someone else’s kids and it becomes the funniest thing that you’ve ever seen... I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
Joan nodded lightly yes. “I was telling Father Michaels that I was going up the steps and that was when I heard the screaming. I pounded on the door; I don’t know if I’ve ever been that scared in my life. I thought for sure that he was killing them, that he was strangling them, or whatever the worse thing I could think of. That was when the door slammed open. I jumped out of the way thinking that there would be a fist coming at me, or whatever weapon he could get his hands on.”
“What was it?” Ralph asked.
“It was nothing, nothing at all. I’ve been running through things all day long about how it could have happened. After I ate this morning and realized why I was there, it finally dawned on me and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
Father Michaels said, “Well, do you think that it could have been the wind that went through and shut it, Mrs. Parker?”
“I would say yes, Father, but unfortunately this is the part where I begin to sound crazy.”
Ralph snapped his fingers. “I’ve been to war and back sweetheart. Spit it out, Joan. I don’t think that you are going to sound nearly that bad, but we won’t ever know if you don’t get talking.”
“When I entered the room, I thought he was on a hook or something—David, my husband, that is. I couldn’t figure out for the life of me what was going on. The height he was at just looked wrong to me, from the second I entered, I knew something was wrong. I looked down at his feet, thinking he was on his tiptoes, but he wasn’t—he was floating. I swear, with God as my witness, he was floating, midair. I don’t know how he did it or what he did to do it, but he did. I’m not crazy, I promise you, I do. You see why I wasn’t wanting to go to the police and let them know about what I saw?”
Ralph nodded real slowly. “Yeah, I guess that, uh… I can see why it might be good to leave the cops out of this.”
Father Michaels, who could tell she was having serious issues dealing with saying this out loud, said, “So, just some floating, that could be worse, I mean we could be talking about-”
“Father, he was thrown across the room. I don’t mean some of the room, I mean the entire room. David screamed in horror as he flew through the room. When he hit the wall, he slammed into it so hard that the sound of him hitting it made me sick to my stomach. I’ve never heard someone else's bone break before. I’ve heard my wrists break when he’s gripped it too hard, but never have I heard a shatter like that. He screamed, guys; I mean he screamed, and he left. He’d rather die than to give up, but the look on his face and the screams he let out as he left, he might never come back again. He had scratches and cuts on his face and arms and looked like he’d tried to protect himself. The punisher needing protection, it is almost funny, if there had been a reason why this was happening. A boy Tony’s age shouldn’t have been much of a threat to his father, I’d not think anyways.”
Ralph said, “So, you are saying it might have been a blessing?”
“I’m very sure that there is a very reasonable explanation for what happened last night at your home, Joan. I just don’t know what it is. There are the good spirits, and the Holy Ghost, and God, and angels, but there is no such thing as the demons or unholy. I’ve been in the church for as long as I can remember. Pray, believe, trust, and follow the good book. That is what I’ve been preached to for as long as I can remember.”
“Father, I can assure you that any reasonable excuse for why what happened, did, would be so appreciated that I probably can’t even put it into words, or ever thank you enough.”
Ralph smiled. He couldn’t think of anything that was going to make sense. “What exactly is it that we are going to be enlightened by for an answer, father? No disrespect, of course. I just find it hard to believe that there is any answer that would make a flying drunk make any sense, except for a drunk going down the stairs... because, well, he’s a drunk.”
A voice cleared from behind them. “I don’t think that you are going to like the answer. Father Michaels, you can tell them every answer that you think you know, everything that you want to tell them is truly in your heart what you believe, and I believe that is how you really feel. Please, do not take any disrespect to my intrusion here, but I’ve dealt with things darker than you could ever see in your dreams. You haven’t seen anything like this before. The question really is whether we are dealing with a ghost or a demon.”
Father Michaels turned around, starting to run a thousand questions through his mind. “I'm sorry, Father Joseph, I know that you are my elder and that you have probably been alive longer than I have been able to pledge my faith, but you aren’t going to tell me that you think there are such things as demons out there? And ghosts?”
Father Joseph looked around conspiratorially. He hadn’t come to the church to cure the city of its demonic problems. Joseph had thought that it was going to be his final church before he was finally able to retire. “Let me ask you a question, Father Michaels; do you believe in God?”
“Yes, of course I do but…”
“Do you believe that a woman was impregnated without consummating with her husband, and that that child became baby Jesus?” Joseph asked.
“Yes of course I do, but…”
“But in all of your faith, your belief that miracles can happen, you don’t believe in the dark side of
life? You don’t think for even one second that there is something out there that is not void of light?” Joseph said.
“I am a man that believes in faith and proof,” Michaels said.
“Right, and you don’t think that the things that happen and go unexplained can be answered without proof? I’ve seen someone claw their way up the side of a bedroom wall before. It wasn’t a pretty sight.”
“Father Joseph, I'm sure that there are crazy events that everyone has seen. I'm sure there was an explanation. You probably saw a teenager tripping on acid, or was insane.”
“They were six, and they weren’t on drugs. As far as being insane, well… there was one thing I’ll give you, but they weren’t locked away until after the demon had entered its body and ruined their brain,” Joseph explained.
“A six-year-old?” Joan questioned.
“Yes, a six-year-old. I agree that there is definitely something wrong with your home, Mrs. Parker. If you would like me to stop by today, I’d be happy to. I just need to get a few tools of the trade, and I could head over to your home.”
“Yes, I think that I would appreciate that very much. I can’t say that I feel much better though; I'm actually quite terrified. Why would there be a demon in my house?”
Father Joseph pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. “I can’t say for sure, but I’d guess that something very evil happened in your home. Do you know anything that could have taken place?”
“I don’t have the slightest clue. My husband had gotten it from someone he knows. He didn’t say anything other than this would be our new house.”
“I want you to write down the address to it, and I want to go do some research. The last thing you want to do is to try to remove something by going in blind. I’ve done that too many times, and quite frankly, I'm too old to do it now.”
Father Michaels couldn’t quite grasp all of this; Ralph did not look much better. Ralph said, “There’s been some real shady people that have lived in that home. I can’t think of one except for you and the boys that I’ve actually wanted to befriend or have around in my life. I don’t think that anything that dark would have happened though.”
Father Michaels said, “So, what are you going to do once you go there?”
“I'm going to bless the house. The good news is that the boys aren’t there. They must have only been temporarily possessed by it. What I mean is, if your husband only got a broken arm, I would say he should count his blessings. We both know that he won’t though. I only hope for his sake that he didn’t try to go back to the house.”
“Why is that, Father Joseph?” Father Michaels asked.
“Because they only give so many warnings out. Typically, if you’ve received one, then you are doing well. If someone has an issue with getting the lesson, or with the bottle, and ignores it, the demon doesn’t care.”
“Do you think that they could hurt someone, Father Joseph?” Joan asked.
“Hurt, maim, rip piece from piece… yes, there are a few things that could happen.”
Joan looked to Ralph who was already putting on his hat. “We need to get home, Joan. There’s nothing from keeping the boys from going into the house. We can try to call Mrs. Anderson but more than likely she ain’t going to hear the phone.”
Father Michaels asked, “What are you going to do if blessing the house doesn’t work? If it’s something more powerful, or darker, whatever it is you said?”
Father Joseph looked solely at the cross with Jesus on it in all his glory. “The same thing I always do, Father Michaels. If they don’t take my warning, then I will send them back to hell where they belong.”
“And how are you going to do that, Father?” Ralph asked.
Father Joseph looked at both of them, almost as if he were angry. “Why are you still here? You need to leave; you need to leave now. I will be by as soon as I can, I assure you. You need to keep anyone from entering that house. You need to go now, go, go, go!”
Ralph used the pew to push himself up and Joan—who looked like she still had a thousand questions—was gripped by the bicep and pulled behind Ralph. “We can ask questions later, Joan, but we need to get home. Best pray that we aren’t stuck in rush hour.”
“I’ll run if I have to,” Joan said.
“You’d fall over if you had to run anywhere. Just get your rear in gear and let's get out of here. We can ask Father Joseph why he knows all this crazy stuff once he comes to the house later. Father, when you come, please go to the house across the street. You’ll see my Impala parked in front of my house; it’s as long as a boat. Just come on in, you don’t need to be formal.”
Father Joseph motioned for them to go. His mind was running a mile a minute, and the thought that there was something going on in the city made him wonder if there was something much bigger going on than met the eye.
Chapter 13
Billy had to hold onto his desk to keep himself from sprinting out the door. He’d been worried about his mother, scared of his father, and wondering how Tony had done, since he’d been with Mrs. Anderson all day. He’d been embarrassed earlier in the day because—for the life of him—he couldn’t remember ever having to worry about farting in class. But Mrs. Anderson had fed him so much pork sausage and eggs that he thought he might be sick. It was the best feeling he’d ever had. He could only imagine what the woman did for meal prep when she was trying to cook a huge feast.
When Tony had asked him what they call a feast like that, Mr. Anderson simply said, “We call this Monday. Wait till she gets going; mid-week, that’s when you are going to start to see some pancakes the size of my head. They’ll fill you up for days. I think sometimes the woman is hoping that I will explode, so she can collect on my pension.”
Mrs. Anderson patted his shoulder. “Honey, it’s a heart attack I'm trying to give you. Your pension is only as good as you are still alive. I need you to last at least ten more years dear.” Ralph had laughed at this, thinking if she only knew how much money he’d stashed over the years that they wouldn’t ever have a reason to worry about money.
Billy’s belly gurgled, and he wondered if he’d be okay to try to eat another meal that day. He was thinking so much that he finally ignored the ticking of the clock and forgot all about it. Billy’s teacher placed a hand on his shoulder making him shudder. “Oh, I’m sorry Billy, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just noticed that you seemed like you were a little tense and had been pretty distant all day long. You look like you picked up a little bruise on your cheek over the weekend; are you okay, is there anything that maybe I need to know?”
Billy shook out of his daze. He was not sure why, but he felt like something bad was going to happen today. “Nothing more than usual, Mrs. Williams.”
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Sorry to intrude, but I really worry about some of you kids. I know that you don’t have it the easiest time to time, but I want you to know that no matter what, I’m always here for you if you ever need anything. I don’t want you to hesitate to ask me. I really mean that, Billy, I’m not just saying it to speak.”
“I appreciate that, Mrs. Williams. I don’t know if it is a good thing or not really. My mom probably got the worst of it. She had to go down to the free hospital, and then the doctor decided that she needed to stay the night and rest.”
“Oh, bless that doctor’s heart for giving that poor woman a night off. Do you know if she’s any better today?”
“Nope, we got to stay at the Anderson’s house last night. I didn’t know that there could be so much food in a house. I think they have more than the cafeteria here at school does.”
Mrs. Williams covered her face with some papers trying not to laugh. “Well, one day, Billy, you’ll have a home of your own and there’s going to be more food than you know what to do with.”
“Well, it’s going to take me a long time to get me full, Mrs. Williams.”
She contemplated that, feeling the bones in his arms and how thin they were. “Yes, well I hope
that one day it’s a problem that you have to worry about dealing with. Until then, you just do what you can to stick with it.”
“Stick with it?”
“Yes, life. Remember, God wouldn’t give us bad days if there wasn’t a light at the end of the tunnel.”
Billy nodded, getting up out of his desk. James was standing outside, motioning for him to get moving. He gave a thumbs up and a wait a sec with his hand. “Thanks again for caring, Mrs. Williams. All I know is that, if there is a light at the end of the tunnel, the one I’m going down sure does seem to be a real long one. I really hope that it gets shortened up at some point.”
“It will... you just have to have faith, dear.”
“Yeah, I probably talk to God more than anyone else at my house, ma’am.”
Billy left the room, and the teacher turned away from his view so he would not see a lone tear winding down her cheek. Children like this broke her heart, it didn’t matter how many years she’d been in the education system, it still hurt just as bad with every new class.
James watched the teacher as her shoulders shook just a little. When Billy made it out into the hallway, he whispered, “What’d you do to your teacher?”
“I didn’t do nothing to her, she was the one that told me school was out.”
“You had to be told that school was out? How hard did your dad hit you?”
“Hard enough the lights went out, but he’s done worse... I think, I can’t say that it’s something that I try to keep track of. It’s a memory that I’m totally okay with forgetting.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to open fresh wounds.”
Billy missed James’s point. “There’s barely a scab on this one yet. I’m going to look pretty tough by the time I get older with all these scars.”
“You don’t really have any scars.”
“Well, I also don’t have a dad who ever hits less hard the older we get. What used to be a spanking became a slap, which I can only assume by the time that I am a teen, I’m going to have to be pretty good at blocking punches and dodging bottles.”
