by Billy Coffey
“I know her heart,” the Reverend said, “that’s all I need. She’s dealt with the devil just as much as the witch has, and it’s led just as much to our ruin.”
“That a fact?” John David asked.
“It is.”
John David opened the door. “Sometimes I think the same’s true of you.”
-7-
Most kids around here grow up with the wild. They suckle as much from nature’s breast as they do their momma’s, fishing the mountain streams and hunting along its ridges, whiling away the summer days in fields of sage and honeysuckle. But Hays had no such memories to comfort him. Kayann Foster grumbled even of the dirt roads that sullied her car and the summer flies that latched to her clothing; the mere mention of what dirt and crawlies lived in the woods made her shudder. And Landis? He would happily speak to the pleasures of taking inventory at the grocery, but that man remained ignorant of the bliss to be found in the Holler’s lonely places. So I guess you can imagine Hays thought he’d never get out of them woods alive, and how what was chasing him had little to do with it.
I don’t know how long he ran. I know there was no method to it and no particular direction, because there was no way for him to tell where lay the safety of town. He simply ran as Scarlett had the night John David had not seen her—away.
He’d had no idea the witch’s reach had extended so far into Crow Holler. That Medric was one of Alvaretta’s demons couldn’t be understood. Hays cared much for that man but his parents never had, said they couldn’t respect anyone who made his life by peddling death. But there was no denying Medric’s heart now. And the men with Raleigh, that Circle he spoke of? All of them had worn demon faces beneath their hoods. And friend, that only begged the question of how many more of them were in town. How many neighbors and friends? How many monsters, waiting for the witch’s command to kill them all? You think about it like that, maybe being alone in the wilderness wasn’t such a bad thing. In fact, I’d say Hays Foster was about the safest person in all of Crow Holler right then. He kept pushing his way through the trees, turning to look for who may be chasing him, trying without success to find a signal on his phone. No one followed him. Raleigh and his merry band were already on their way to town, intending to dispense a final stroke of justice.
The sprint that had carried Hays away from the Circle slowed to something well short of a fast walk. His breaths were labored and deep, his legs unable to keep moving. He finally collapsed against a fallen walnut tree and tilted his face to wisps of clouds colored red and orange by the setting sun. There, Hays Foster waited for death to call him. No doubt the Dark Angel would have, friend. I’d say that specter was there even then, waiting as it waited for all in Crow Holler. And yet Hays then did something wholly unexpected as he kept his eyes to the broken places of sky beyond the tall trees around him. He began to pray.
So far as I know, it was only the second time in that boy’s life he’d lifted his voice heavenward, the first coming the night before at Reverend Ramsay’s altar. His words weren’t flowery like the Reverend’s, nor filled with grief as was Angela’s or Cordelia’s on the times they’d offered them. Five words in all, but then I guess you could say they were the five that most mattered:
“Tell me what to do.”
There came no answer. No Spirit descending from the sky as a dove, no burning bush, no stone tablets writ by the Almighty’s hand. Only emptiness filled that boy. Only emptiness ever had.
Somewhere close, a twig snapped. Hays sank beneath the log. He saw nothing in the trees but a fluttering leaf.
A sound again. Not someone stepping over a branch. More like a scrape. Wood over stone.
Hays rolled to his side and jumped up in one motion. This time he ran even faster than he’d fled from Raleigh’s demons, certain they’d followed or—worse—that Stu Graves had found him. Evening fell upon the woods, blending the trees into one, but Hays refused to slow. He bounced off some and ran into others. Each blow stole what small amount of strength of him remained.
He looked near to surrendering again when he saw the clearing ahead and tumbled through the last of the trees. A cabin and barn rested in the middle, along with a struggling garden out back. Hays uttered a cry as he stopped, and I think that was because his mind had twisted things so far as to think he’d arrived once more at Alvaretta’s. But this was not the Graves homeplace. The house was larger and the barn newer, and the truck parked between them was not Stu’s, but the rusting Chevy that Briar Hodge sometimes drove.
“Chessie?” he screamed. “Mr. Hodge?” Running for the porch, looking over his shoulder, where there was nothing now but forest. “John David?”
Hays banged on the door. No one answered. He ran to the barn and rolled open the big doors. No one. Yet here, his panic went quiet.
Lined against the barn’s far wall were crates filled with jars glimmering with the clear liquid of Briar Hodge’s famous moonshine. Gallons of it, packed neatly and with care. Waiting not for delivery, but for Hays himself.
Tell me what to do, he’d prayed back at that fallen tree. The answer had not come, not there and then. It had instead waited for Hays to pick himself up and go looking for it, and in that I do believe that boy found the only lesson of the spirit he’d ever receive. He knew what to do now. There were monsters in Crow Holler, and that was a sorry thing. But no one but him could see the monsters, and that was worse. Everyone Hays knew in his life, his parents and his friends, Cordelia and their baby, were at the mercy of the witch. The only one who could make things right was Hays, because he was the only one who had been cursed with the truth.
He ran back to Briar’s truck and found the keys in the ignition—yet another small miracle to prove this was all the Lord’s doing. The revving engine broke the forest’s silence. Hays backed up to the doors and left the engine running. He headed to town twenty minutes later with all but two cases of Briar’s moonshine jostling in the truck’s bed.
XIV
The service. The Circle arrives. Monsters. Blood flows in the Holler. Burn it all. Stu comes for Wilson.
-1-
You can believe it was standing room only at the Holy Fire that night; not even all the chairs brought over from the council building were enough. People piled into the pews and the aisles, into the choir loft above the sanctuary, even behind the pulpit. Any place big enough to put a body, Reverend Ramsay put one there. Wilson helped, along with the other deacons. All but the head one, of course. Everybody wanted to know where Raleigh’d run off to. That man hadn’t missed a service since Eugenia left.
Most everybody came: Belle and Naomi had sought refuge in the church most of that day. Bucky walked over from the council building and met Angela and Cordelia at the steps. The mayor came along by himself. Scarlett followed later, though only in body. Her spirit seemed to lay elsewhere. She had spent quite a long time with Chessie and Briar, along with a new pad and pen. Every piece of that paper had been used up by the time Chessie had all she needed. Both Foster parents arrived late, though I expect the only reason they showed up was to make sure Bucky hadn’t found Hays, who was nowhere around. They went on and sat down anyway. Kayann understood their absence would only make Hays look more guilty in the eyes of Crow Holler.
The front row had been blocked off for those that mattered. Wilson sat on the end with Scarlett, though I suppose she’d tell you she wasn’t sitting with her daddy near as much as she was sitting with Briar. On Briar’s other side sat Maris Sullivan. Bucky sat with her and Cordelia. He tried to tell Maris he agreed Danny was innocent, but Maris had gone quiet. And wouldn’t you know it, John David stood against the wall next to the side door, attending church for the first time since leaving for the war. He held his arms crossed like he always did. Much like Scarlett, he’d come more for the Hodges than for his own family.
Angela sashayed about in that red dress she liked so much. She shook what people’s hands she could reach and waved to the ones she couldn’t, flashing her best smile. This w
as Angela’s big moment, and no way would she let that moment pass without sopping up every bit of pleasure in it. Bucky had brought in the witch’s spies, you see. To Angela’s mind, that meant she’d had just as much a hand in it as Bucky. “I believed in Bucky when nobody else did,” is what she told everybody. She finished her lap around the sanctuary and waved at those in the choir loft, then took her place between Bucky and Cordelia.
On the stage to the side of the pulpit sat three metal chairs. That’s where Medric, Danny, and Chessie waited for judgment. Seeing those three would remind you of one a them pictures they show in school of man’s evolution. Medric leaned so far forward in his chair that he looked like a ball. His elbows rested on his thighs and his eyes were to the floor. Danny Sullivan fared little better. The day had worn on him such that it looked a migraine had broken out in him. He too was hunched, though less so than Medric. His hand moved over his eyes and forehead, massaging them. Every once in a while he’d glance to Maris and mouth I’m sorry over and over. Only Chessie remained tall—back straight, eyes forward, hands in her lap—as calm and sure as she would be sitting on her porch at home.
David Ramsay came through the side door at seven o’clock exactly, just as the full moon rose over Crow Holler. He carried his Bible in one hand. The other gripped a large metal bowl with a plain white towel inside, and a pitcher of water he’d prayed over from the fountain in the hallway. A hum fell over the crowd as he walked up the stage. Never once did the Reverend look at the three accused. He laid the bowl and pitcher at Chessie’s feet and turned to the people.
“And all God’s people said . . .”
“Amen,” came the chorus.
“Amen,” he whispered back. “Brothers and sisters, we’ve spent each night here under heavy burden, seeking the hand of the Lord to guide us through what the darkness has wrought. We’ve prayed together, sung together, lifted up our hearts as one for God’s favor. And yet that favor has not come.”
He turned a little and looked at Chessie. She kept her eyes to Briar.
“Long did I pray, asking the Father why still we suffer. That answer came when our Sheriff Vest brought news that the witch has aid in her doings, aid that came not from the evil of hell, but the evil inside the human heart. It has been determined by myself and Mayor Bickford that the three who sit behind me have colluded to bring about the rot that has overtaken Crow Holler. I will give evidence of their deeds. I will tell you how it was that Medric Johnston came to deliver the body of Stu Graves to Alvaretta so she might raise him up for her vengeance.”
A gasp came from the congregation, making Medric shrink more.
“I will tell you how our very own doctor offered aid to Alvaretta by procuring her food and medicine that kept her body strong so that she might weaken us all.”
“No,” Maris said from the front, “No, I will not have this,” but she was shouted down by those behind her.
“I will tell you how Chessie Hodge brought the Lord’s wrath upon us—partaking in the devil’s schemes by peddling her filth and cleansing her own conscience by corrupting us all with her gains. I will tell you all of this, brothers and sisters, though it pains me. Yes, it pains me.” David grimaced. I don’t know if that was for show or if he truly did feel that hurt. “The Word says pride goeth before a fall. Well, we have all fallen. We writhe and moan in the dirt when we should soar with the angels. It is humility we lack, not faith. Meekness rather than love. That is why the witch holds power. Alvaretta Graves is our judgment, and the demon she’s called forth is our sentence. And yet, still we may turn. ‘If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.’ ”
“Amen,” they all sang, and Amen again.
“Tonight, friends, we turn. Tonight, those responsible for the curse upon us all will humble themselves.” David turned and pointed to what lay at Chessie’s feet. “Tonight these three will confess their prideful ways, and their penance will be to wash the feet of all gathered.”
Friend, the silence that greeted David at those words could only be one of shock, nothing else. Chessie glared at the Reverend, but he did not turn. In the front pew, Cordelia’s cell phone buzzed. She blushed and squeezed her purse.
“Let us go to the Word,” David said. “Thirteenth chapter of John, verses three through eleven.”
Cordy unzipped her purse as quiet as she could. Not even Angela’s hard stare could stop her. She reached for her phone and hit the button to read the text. It was Hays:
MEET ME AT THE FIELD COME ALONE THEY’RE EVERYWHERE
“ ‘Jesus,’ ” David began, “ ‘knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands, and that he was come from God, and went to God; he riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel, and girded himself. After that he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded.’ ”
Cordelia stared at her screen.
MEET ME AT THE FIELD
Hays wanting her.
Needing her.
“ ‘Then cometh he to Simon Peter: and Peter saith unto him, Lord, dost thou wash my feet? Jesus answered and said unto him, What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter. Peter saith unto him, Thou shalt never wash my feet.’ ”
COME ALONE
But could she? Could Cordelia do such a thing for a boy who was no longer the person she’d shared herself with? The boy who had been bruised somehow, the one who had once said he loved her but now said things like It isn’t safe anymore. Nowhere’s safe, because they’re everywhere? You would think such an answer would require a measure of deliberation, but I’ll tell you Cordelia did no such thing. Of course she would. She had to go, friend, and for the very reason girls her age did most anything—for love.
She let the screen drop long enough for Angela to see. Their eyes met, a daughter’s pleading and a mother’s fear. Bucky couldn’t come. He would have to stay here, make sure Medric and the rest got what they deserved, and so the two of them rose together and walked toward the doors. Bucky watched them go. Kayann watched them too. She did not look at Landis as she rose to follow them out.
David said, “ ‘Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me. Simon Peter saith unto him, Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head. Jesus saith to him, He that is washed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all. For he knew who would betray him; therefore said he, Ye are not all clean.’ ”
And that was the last thing Cordelia heard as she and Angela stepped out beneath a bright and full moon. Kayann remained farther back, picking her way through a tangle of arms and legs and ugly glares. The last thing she heard was David asking for witnesses to the evil deeds of the three gathered upon the stage. The last she saw was Chessie Hodge stand.
-2-
He stood in the middle of the field where a fire burned and the moon had already taken on a strange glow. Hays believed that high color a sign. Whether of the Lord or the witch, he did not know. I expect he had come to see them as one and the same.
He’d waited longer than it should’ve taken for Cordelia to get there. That had been more the fault of their two mommas wasting time on the church steps, arguing this was all Hays’s fault and this was all Cordelia’s, arguing about the past and the now and the future and the little child that connected all three. In the end Angela couldn’t well refuse Kayann’s insistence to come along. Hays was her boy, after all. Made for a pile of silence in Kayann’s fancy car, you can believe that. None of them said a word when they passed Raleigh Jennings and the four trucks with him, late for service and headed toward town.
Hays flicked his lighter one last time when he saw Cordelia walking out of the scrub of pines and spruces at the edge of the field. It had been a risk, texting her. It had been a bigger one
asking her to meet him. He had no way of knowing how far Alvaretta’s reach had grown through town, or how deep her evil had spread. But as Hays watched Cordy moving towards him, I do believe he felt thankful. I wouldn’t say he loved Cordelia, least not the way Cordelia loved him. But really, what does that matter in the end? What child that age knows what love is? I’m an old man, friend; I’ve no idea myself. Sometimes I wonder if anybody does. But I think Hays had come to see the baby inside her as the only pure thing left in Crow Holler and the only person untouched by Alvaretta Graves.
He stepped away from the fire and craned his neck, wanting to make sure Cordy was still herself. “You came,” he said.
She smiled and kept the flames between them. “Vere have you been, Hayth?”
“I’m sorry. I left you, and I’m sorry. Scarlett was right. They were coming for me.”
“Whooth ‘they’?”
“The monsters. Alvaretta’s monsters. They’re everywhere, Cordy. I’ve seen them. Medric’s one.”
“Medwic?” she asked. “How do you know about him?”
“How do—” he started, then closed his mouth. “How do you know about Medric?”
“Daddy bwought him in eawier, wif Chethie and Doc Thullivan. They’re in church now. They helped the witch.”
Hays smiled for maybe the first time all week. “That’s good,” he said. “But there’s more of them, Cordy. They’re everywhere. I tried getting out of town, but Raleigh got me. He took me in the woods with a bunch of men in hoods.”
She took a step around the fire, closer to him. “Vut men in hoods?”
“The monsters. They were after me, but I’m safe now. We have to leave. You and me and the baby, we have to go.”
Another step. Cordelia stopped close enough to touch him. Reach out and grab him. She winced at the heat of the flames. As she did, a piece of her forehead peeled away. It broke free of her skin and floated before the fire’s current lifted it above her head, where it burned like an ember before winking away.
