Reign of Silence

by Tony Martin

  “Supernatural in the sense that it’s satanic,” said Jimmy bluntly. “I have to tell you that this haunted house business just didn’t wash with me. But I’ll go as far as to acknowledge that there’s something – I dunno, spiritual? Demonic? – happening here.”

  Joshua thought about this a minute. “Here’s where I’m being stonewalled. I know that there are plenty of demonic references in scripture. I know that in these days, a lot of that might be mental illness. But I can’t think of a single instance in which demonic activity included some of the other things we’re seeing are hearing … the voices, the images of people, and now wet footprints we all saw.”

  “It’s almost like you’ve got two separate things happening here,” said Christine, who’d been listening intently. “You’ve got these ‘ghost things’ happening, but then you’ve got Meredith, and what happened to her. Her eyes …” She studied her fingernails, falling silent.

  “This doesn’t get us any closer to what we need to do next,” said Joshua. “Jimmy – I know that Meredith’s not a church member, but do you think it’d be appropriate to get some others on board? Should I call together some of our more mature deacons, or anyone else?”

  “Not yet,” Jimmy said. “Matter of fact, for the time being, we need to keep what’s going on to ourselves. Don’t tell Gretchen anything other than that Meredith is having some emotional problems, and is going to stay with us for a little while. I think you just need to talk to someone else outside the church. I don’t know what else to tell you. This is all way beyond me, and it sounds like its way beyond you, too.”

  “We won’t just sit around paralyzed,” said Joshua. “First order of business is to see about Meredith. I’ll go by the hospital and check on Bernadine – I guess her pastor has already been contacted.”

  “Meredith will want to see her, too,” said Christine.

  “You’ll just have to handle that as you see fit,” said Joshua.

  Joshua passed the St. Helena city limits sign, and in a few minutes pulled up beside Jimmy’s car in the church parking lot. It was almost noon.

  “Give me a call after you’ve had a chance to talk to Meredith,” said Joshua. “I’m going to run by the hospital before I go home.”

  “We will,” said Jimmy. He and Christine climbed in their car and drove away.

  Joshua went in the office long enough to speak to Gretchen. Gretchen cocked her head as she looked at him. “Brother Josh,” she said, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Something like that,” Joshua said, allowing himself a smile. “Listen. Meredith Dubose has had a rough night, and she’s gone over to the Tracy’s house for a couple of days. Her maid, Bernadine, has had an accident of some sort, and is at the hospital. I’m going to check on her, and then I’m going home for lunch.”

  “Fine, Preacher,” said Gretchen. “Anything I can do for you in the meantime?”

  “Yeah – call the Methodist church and make sure Dr. McClure knows Bernadine is at the hospital.”

  “Sure. Take care, OK? You don’t look well.”

  “I’m fine,” said Joshua, waving as he left. Gretchen watched him out the door, shaking her head.

  Joshua drove the few blocks to Pelham General Hospital. Entering the ER waiting room, he gave his name to the triage nurse and asked for Bernadine Coleman.

  The nurse recognized Joshua. “Miss Coleman is in ICU.”

  “Thanks.” Joshua rode the elevator to the third floor and stopped at the reception desk in the Intensive Care Unit waiting room. He asked for Bernadine.

  “Her pastor and sister are here,” said the pink lady, gesturing to a row of chairs alongside the wall.

  Joshua had never met Bernadine’s sister, Rebecca, but recognized Samuel McClure, pastor of First Methodist. They both rose to greet him.

  “Hi, Sam,” said Joshua. Turning to Bernadine’s sister, he said, “I’m Joshua Nix, pastor of Calvary Baptist.”

  “Rebecca Clark,” said Bernadine’s sister. “I understand you and the Tracys found my sister at the mansion.”

  “We did,” said Joshua. “What have you heard?”

  Rebecca seemed unsure of what to say. Samuel McClure stepped in.

  “The doctor just left,” McClure said. “He said that she hasn’t had a heart attack, she’s not had a stroke – everything looks fine. But she’s comatose, and he’s not sure why.”

  “They’ve got tests ordered,” said Rebecca, reaching for a tissue to dab her eyes. “She’s responding to touch, some, but she’s just not awake.”

  Joshua pondered this a minute, then told Rebecca how she was found, what condition she was in.

  “Thank you so much for doing all you’ve done,” said Rebecca. “Do – do you think she’ll be OK?”

  “I know the doctors will do all they can do,” said Joshua. His pastoral compassion surfaced. “Would you like for me to have a word of prayer with you before I leave?”

  “Oh, yes, please,” said Rebecca.

  The three bowed their heads. Joshua prayed, asking God to bless Bernadine and to be merciful to her, to guide the doctors and the rest of the medical personnel, and to give comfort to Rebecca and any other family and friends.

  “Amen,” Joshua said, then turned to McClure. “Give me a call if there’s any change, OK?”

  “Sure thing, Joshua. I’ll stay with them for a while.”

  The pastors shook hands, and Joshua walked slowly back to the parking lot and slipped into his car. He opened his cell phone and called Bethany. “I’m on my way home. Do you want me to grab something for lunch?”

  “Maybe Wendy’s,” said Bethany. “I haven’t been to the grocery store, and all we have is sandwich fixings.”

  “See you in a bit,” said Joshua, and turned toward Court Boulevard, the main retail street of St. Helena, which hosted a strip of fast food restaurants.

  Joshua went through the drive through, ordering burgers and fries for him and Bethany, and then started home. His mind was stirring with questions, none of which seemed to have any answers. He allowed himself a troubling thought – what if Bernadine had seen something in the house or in the back, something so terrifying that it had caused her to slip into a mental state that sent her to the hospital, comatose? He couldn’t imagine what would have been so devastating as to affect her so.

  One thought crowded out the next; Joshua pounded the steering wheel in frustration. “I am clueless,” he said, pulling into his driveway.

  He entered the house to find Bethany waiting at the kitchen table. He kissed her on the cheek as he sat beside her. Bethany looked at him, her face glum.

  “Tough day,” she said.

  “Tough one,” Joshua said as he opened the bag and passed Bethany her hamburger and French fries.

  Bethany made a show of spreading her fries on a napkin, then squirting a packet of catsup on the corner of her burger wrapper. She idly stirred one fry in the catsup. Joshua waited.

  “What’s the next step?” she finally asked.

  “I think I’m going to give myself a day or two to process all this,” said Joshua. “I’m probably going to call Dr. Peterson at the seminary.”

  “Think he can help?

  “I’m at a loss as to what else to do. At least Meredith will be secure for a while at the Tracy’s house.”

  “I think you need to put some distance between you and this whole situation,” Bethany said, studying the patterns in her catsup as though they were tea leaves.

  “Hon,” said Joshua, and then waited for Bethany to make eye contact with him. She did, with a basilisk stare. “I’m already in this. I’m not at a point where I can back off quite yet.”

  “You know,” said Bethany, still staring, “you’ve got a whole church out there depending on you.”

  “How well I know,” said Joshua. “But I’ll stay on top of things. I won’t let other duties slide.”

  Bethany thought about this. “How are you feeling about Meredith?” she asked, again doodling i
n her catsup.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t mean anything. I just asked.”

  Joshua felt his face flush. He saw no need to be defensive, but his voice took on an edge. “I don’t feel anything about her. I know she’s at the center of something – something wicked – and it’s impacting a family in our church. And it’s impacted you, too,” he added.

  “Joshua,” Bethany said, her voice softer, “I want you to be careful. You need to keep your guard up. You’ve got to keep a little distance between you and her – the whole mess.”

  “I will be careful,” said Joshua. “After all, it looks like you’re going to be scrutinizing my every move.”

  “That’s not so,” said Bethany, once again glaring at him. “I just know how you get sometimes. You get tunnel vision. You get fixated on one issue. And this is one that you can’t let get the better of you. You can’t rescue everyone.”

  “I don’t know what your problem is,” said Joshua. “You yourself said there’s something wrong. You haven’t even asked me what happened this morning.”

  Bethany paused, swallowed, said, “You know, you’re right. I’m sorry. What did happen?”

  Joshua told her the whole story, from finding Bernadine unconscious, from the discovery of what seemed to be footprints, to his visit to the hospital. Bethany sat stock still.

  “OK, that’s it,” she said when he’d finished. “You can’t handle this – you can’t try to handle this – on your own. You’ve got to get some help, some counsel. Have you thought about talking to Al?”

  Joshua frowned. “Well, no, I haven’t. I don’t guess he’s aware of any of what’s happening. I just didn’t think about him.”

  While Joshua and Al had a good relationship, and had grown fonder of each other with each passing month, Al was not Joshua’s first thought when it came to sharing challenges. Would Al be safe? What would his response to this tale be?

  “Why don’t you get him up to speed?” asked Bethany. “It couldn’t hurt.”

  “No, I guess not,” said Joshua. “This is just not something I want to talk to everyone about, you know?”

  “Me neither,” said Bethany, finishing off her French fries.

  They ate in silence for a few moments before their conversation moved on to other things. Joshua was grateful for some small talk; Bethany talked about her bunko club meeting this evening, about what new movies were coming out this weekend (“Think we might go to Dothan and see something – maybe eat at Red Lobster?”), and how much warmer the weather was getting. Joshua talked about needing to mow the lawn, clean out around the flower beds – in short, just the boring domestic conversation they’d both needed.

  “Joshua,” said Bethany after a bit, “is there anything you need from me?”

  Joshua just melted. “You are the best,” he said, and meant it. “Just be patient. And don’t be afraid to call my hand if I get too much out of line.”

  Bethany rose from her seat, walked around behind Joshua, and wrapped him in her arms. She gave him a long, lingering kiss on the cheek. Joshua loved it.

  “You’re just gonna have to forgive me for being concerned,” said Bethany. “If this were just your run-of-the-mill crisis, I wouldn’t worry. You’re up to those. This is just so weird.”

  Joshua stood and pulled Bethany close in an embrace. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling. “Mmmmm,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”

  They kissed, drew back, and each looked at the other closely. Bethany had what he called her “contented kitten” look – half-smile, eyes twinkling.

  “Don’t forget you’ve got other responsibilities than ghostbusting,” said Bethany. Her smile broadened.

  “I got game,” said Joshua. He hugged her once more. “Gonna head back to the church and see if I can salvage the rest of the day. I need a little breathing room, you’re right.”

  “Take care of you,” said Bethany. She brightened. “How about spaghetti for supper?”

  “How ‘bout you for dessert?”

  “How ‘bout you getting out of my sight before I make you late?”

  One last kiss. Then, as Joshua headed for the door, he said, “I used to be single. Now I’m married. Married’s better!”

  Bethany waved him away. “Yeah, there are some real perks there. Take care, OK?”

  “Quit your frettin’,” said Joshua as he closed the door. “See you later.”

  Chapter Eight - Al

  When Joshua arrived at the church, he told Gretchen – who was obviously curious, but not at a point to pry quite yet – that he didn’t want to be disturbed. “Unless it’s Bethany,” he added, as he closed his office door.

  Joshua sat at his desk, pulled out a legal pad, and wrote the date at the top. He wrote a heading: Issues. Then, in a bulleted list, he wrote:

  -Meredith Dubose. Loss of parents.

  -“Manifestations”. Voices. Figures. Wet footprints. Physical touches.

  -Bernadine – what happened there? She’d heard voices.

  -Meredith – seen figures. Heard voices. Had “possession” experience. Felt touch.

  -Bethany – saw figure.

  -Christine – heard voices, saw Meredith’s behavior.

  -Jimmy – saw footprints.

  -Josh – saw footprints.

  He paused for a moment, thinking, then wrote:

  -My dream. Bethany’s appearance = Christine’s description of Meredith.

  “Uh-uh,” he said. But the thought came anyway: Was there any connection there?

  Of course not, he told himself. But there was a nagging thought nibbling at the corner of his mind – had he had some kind of premonition?

  “Or, more likely, just a really nasty nightmare,” Joshua said, crossing out the last statement.

  He looked at his list. What he had written – what had happened – were archetypical elements of a haunting, as found in folklore and fiction in cultures the worldwide. What didn’t fit in was Christine’s description of Meredith (those eyes again, he thought), and Meredith’s own description of what she’d experienced.

  Meredith. Joshua caught himself underlining, then circling, her name on his legal pad. With a furtive glance around, as though someone were watching, he scratched her name out, taking pains that no evidence remained.

  Why’d I just do that? Joshua asked himself. Was he trying to hide something?

  “Naah,” he said to himself. Yet, he realized as he was working on his list that his mind kept calling Meredith’s image back to his consciousness. He could see her translucent skin, her blonde hair as it swept back from her temples, those green eyes –

  “Dirty old man,” Joshua said. He had to smile.

  Joshua felt that he and Bethany had the ideal marriage. They enjoyed each other’s company, they had fun with back-and-forth banter; Joshua loved Bethany’s loveably caustic sense of humor. They were physically compatible, had the same tastes in movies, music, and food, and, most importantly, had accepted Joshua’s call into the ministry as a couple, not two individuals.

  It never would have occurred to Joshua to be unfaithful. Both he and Bethany had commented to each other in the early days of marriage that they were surprised at how “cute guys still looked cute,” in Bethany’s words. And Joshua still appreciated feminine charms, even when their source was not Bethany. There was a tacit understanding on both their parts – they’d entered into the marriage covenant for life, and nothing would change that.

  Still – Joshua allowed himself a few more moments remembering Meredith, reconstructing her beauty in his mind. I guess that’s OK, he thought, it seems normal. As long as it doesn’t go any further. Then, to his surprise – as though his mind had jumped a track somewhere – he found that he was doing some mental math, determining the difference in their ages.

  Joshua stood abruptly, stretched, and then tore the sheet upon which he’d been writing from the pad, crumpled it, and tossed it in the trash. He left his office and walked to Gretchen’s desk.r />
  Gretchen looked at him blandly, but again Joshua knew she was about to bust for details. “Yessir?” she said.

  “Is Al around?” Joshua asked.

  “As far as I know,” answered Gretchen. “Want me to buzz him and have him come up?”

  “I’ll find him,” said Joshua. Leaving the office, he made his way to Al’s sanctum sanctorum, as Al called it. Al’s office was in the choir suite, in a space below the sanctuary containing the choir rehearsal room, a music library, and two offices – one for Al and one for his secretary, Sara Copeland.

  Sara smiled up at Joshua. “We haven’t seen much of you down here lately,” she said.

  “Guess I’m not comfortable in the catacombs,” said Joshua. “Don’t want to disturb any dead saints. Is Al here?”

  “Sure is,” Sara said. “Just go on back.”

  Al’s office door was open; Joshua could hear a CD playing with Al singing along. Joshua knew that the choir was in the heat of rehearsals for the Easter musical. “Knock, knock,” he said at the door. Al looked up, smiled.

  “Come on in,” he said, pausing the CD. “How’s your Thursday?”

  Joshua flopped in a convenient chair. “My Thursday. Well. It’s been pretty eventful.”

  Al said nothing, but gave Joshua an inquisitive look, waiting.

  “I need to get you up to speed on some things,” said Joshua. “And this needs to be kept confidential, OK?”

  “I’ll do that,” said Al.

  With that, Joshua spent the next fifteen minutes telling Al the whole story, beginning with Jimmy Tracy’s call after his Samuel sermon, through his initial conversation with Christine, and on up through Bernadine’s incident and subsequent hospitalization.

  Joshua expected the same response from Al he’d gotten from Jimmy Tracy. To his surprise, Al never flinched. If anything, Al seemed very sober.

  “Are you buying all this?” asked Joshua. “Because it’s true – or, at least, the thing’s I’ve experienced personally are. And Meredith’s story, and what Christine saw and experienced, just seem airtight. I don’t have any sense at all this is all an offbeat joke.”