by Tony Martin
Jimmy scowled. “Why would Meredith deface her Bible – and why that one verse?”
No one spoke for a few moments.
“That is a cryptic verse,” Precious said. “But … would you be willing to consider that perhaps Meredith didn’t mark it in this fashion?”
Joshua shivered. “There’s been a lot that’s happened that before now I wouldn’t have been willing to consider.”
“It’s almost as if we were led up here,” said Precious.
“That’s almost too tidy,” said Jimmy. “That someone or something would leave us a clue – message – whatever.”
“I wonder,” said Precious, looking at the Bible again. “Could someone be trying to communicate with us?”
“If that were so,” said Joshua, “why use a Bible? And what has anything we’ve learned have to do with Lot?”
“I don’t think it has anything to do with Lot,” said Precious. “I think it has something to do with what happened with Lot and his daughters.”
“Incest?” Jimmy asked. “Is that what you’re suggesting?”
Joshua shifted uneasily. “You know, Precious, if this is some sort of message … and Meredith didn’t have anything to do with it, as you seem to be suggesting … then we might have to consider a Dubose family scandal that they would have gone to extraordinary lengths to conceal.”
“Suppose you’re right,” said Jimmy. “Why would it come to light now? And why would Meredith and the rest of us be so involved?”
“Beats me,” Precious admitted. “I’m like you – this is almost too easy and too obvious. But, you’ve got to admit, the prospect of incest somewhere along the way in the Duboses’ past would be quite the scandal.”
“And quite the sin,” said Joshua. “It’s vile and wicked now, but imagine how incest was viewed a hundred years ago.”
“So, what you’re suggesting – and this isn’t rocket science – is that you think that there was an incestuous relationship between father and daughter in the Dubose family?” asked Jimmy. He fell silent, obviously uncomfortable.
“Jacob and his daughter Margaret,” said Precious flatly. “Doesn’t that make sense?”
“Of course it does,” said Jimmy. “C’mon, guys. We’ve all been standing here thinking the same thing.”
“If the entities we’ve seen are indeed those two – or, at least, something masquerading as those two,” said Joshua, “that still doesn’t get us any closer to the answer as to why now.”
Precious started down the stairs. “I’ve got to get out of here,” he said, his eyes watering. “We can stand up here and speculate all day. I’ll look through this material I picked up, and Joshua can read Judith’s journal. I don’t know what else to do, or if anything we find will help us rid this house and Meredith of this pestilence.”
The group boarded the Suburban and started toward town. Each man was silent during the trip back, keeping his own counsel.
As Joshua reflected on this brief visit to the Dubose mansion, he wondered why the house seemed so quiet. The night before had been a full assault on his very soul, and the experiences terrified him. He couldn’t shake the sense that all that had happened was about something, that nothing had happened by accident. He knew Meredith was involved, that the evil was centered on her – but he also felt that somehow, he was involved.
Joshua rubbed the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. This was all simply too much to comprehend, and he felt that he was one element that made up a larger whole. There was something about his simply being in St. Helena, serving Calvary Baptist Church; something about his sermon on Saul and the resultant intertwining in the life of Meredith Dubose; the acknowledgement that he at least had the capacity for unfaithfulness with his wife, even though that particular sin hadn’t sprung into full-blown life…
Was all this predestined, Joshua wondered – was it all providential? He suddenly felt very small. He saw himself as a speck on some cosmic timeline, unable to alter the direction of what was happening. It was though he were swept along in a tide, incapable of making sense of all that had transpired, and wishing forlornly that none of this had happened. His mind focused on that existential question – why? – and he wondered if he would ever have the answers… or if he even had any reason to need to know the answers.
God is good, Joshua thought, and what He does is always right. Right now, knowing that truth intellectually gave him little comfort.
“So, did y’all decide what you were going to do next?” asked Bethany. Joshua was sprawled on the couch. He’d stopped at the church long enough to get his car and come home.
“We never even talked about it,” said Joshua. “At some point tonight I want to read some of Judith Duboses’ journal, but I’m not even sure what the point is.”
Bethany dropped down on her knees by the couch and hugged Joshua. “I still can’t get my mind wrapped around all that’s happened,” she said. “I’m beyond numb.”
“Me, too, hon,” said Joshua, throwing one arm over his eyes. “I’ve got to muddle through prayer meeting tonight, but it ain’t gonna be pretty. I’m just going to have to recycle something I’ve done before.”
“Maybe the church will be merciful,” said Bethany. “Besides, they won’t remember if they’ve heard it before.” She smirked at Joshua.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Joshua mumbled.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Bethany said brightly. “Meredith was released from the hospital. She’s back at the Tracys. Lydia said that Meredith and Christine were dead to the world.”
“I wish I could be dead to the world for a little while,” Joshua said.
“Quit your whining,” said Bethany. “Do your church thing, come on home, and you can worry about tomorrow when it gets here.”
“Yes, mother,” said Joshua, and he rolled over to face the back of the couch. Bethany kissed his cheek, and then went to their bedroom for a nap herself.
Meredith awoke with a terrible headache. She was thankful that Christine had the shades drawn in her bedroom. She rose up just enough to see Christine sound asleep on a daybed on the other side of the room.
Lying down again, Meredith tried to whip her thoughts into some coherent narrative. She was surprised that she genuinely didn’t feel afraid. While the terrors of the past week were still fresh in her mind, she seemed detached and uninvolved, as though she were seeing the events as they happened to someone else.
The trip to the emergency room was more of a blessing than Meredith had let on to anyone. Immediately after her last experience at her home, she felt as though her heart was going to break her ribs. She was thankful that the doctor found nothing wrong, but it was alarming nonetheless.
And now what am I supposed to do? Meredith faced this question with the understanding that there was no one right answer. She knew Joshua and some of the others were planning to go back to the mansion, but she had no idea what they had planned. She guessed – rightly – that they didn’t know, either.
Meredith was convinced that the apparitions were spiritual representations of two of her ancestors – Jacob Dubose and his daughter, Margaret. She’d listened with detached interest to Precious and Joshua’s endless discussion about what these things were – demons, actual spirits returned from the dead, whatever – and that was all academic to her. She simply knew that she wanted her life back.
Then it struck her, and Meredith felt herself strangely buoyed – not only did she already have her life back, she had a new life altogether. In a way that she could have never imagined, she felt she had been reborn. That, she supposed, was why she didn’t feel afraid. While she knew she would experience the fear of the unknown as anyone would, she now felt confident that the fear for her life, for her soul, and the fear of death, was no longer in question.
The world at large can’t understand that, Meredith thought. She knew what she had done flew in the face of reason – she knew that a rational mind, one hostile to faith, would reject what she experienced as
just so much mumbo-jumbo. “It’s real to me,” she explained to herself. Skeptics could interpret what happened however they pleased.
It all comes down to faith in something beyond ourselves, Meredith believed, and was content with the peace she felt.
The rain that had threatened all afternoon finally arrived. Joshua and Bethany drove up to the church in separate cars – Bethany had choir practice - eyeing the thunderheads that blanketed the horizon, flickering with bluish lightning. Thunder rumbled, echoing from all directions. They managed to get inside the building just as the rain began, wet, heavy drops that stung as they struck.
Joshua knew that bad weather would keep people at home. He was thankful, perversely; at least few people would hear his wretched Bible study during prayer meeting. Joshua awoke from his nap and tried to get some thoughts together, but his mind and heart simply weren’t engaged.
The crowd was sparse in the fellowship hall. Louise had prepared meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, fried okra, and homemade rolls – pure southern comfort food. Joshua and Bethany got their plates and sat down with two couples their age, the Jacksons and the Ryans. They made small talk, but Joshua felt a general sense of heaviness in the room. Conversation was subdued, and he felt uneasy, almost oppressed. Bethany sensed it, too – she kept looking around at the other tables, her brow furrowed.
Joshua and Bethany took their dirty plates to the window into the kitchen. “Sorta dark in here tonight,” she noted.
“Yeah, you noticed,” said Joshua, flinching as thunder rattled the windows, bringing a chorus of “ooohh!” from the crowd. “I saw the Rowells and the Turners sitting together, and they barely acknowledged me when I tried to speak to them.”
“Odd,” said Bethany. “Well, think you can pull this off tonight?”
“It’s not the apocalypse if I can’t,” Joshua said dismissively. “I’ll give ‘em something.”
Joshua started for the lectern at the front of the room. He walked by the Michaels family, and Bud caught him by the arm.
“Joshua, I’m sorry to bushwhack you just as you’re getting ready to teach,” Bud said, “but Joel Battaglia wants to meet with you and me after we finish in here. He’s out in the hall, waiting.”
“Terrific,” said Joshua. “Well, bring him on and I’ll hear what he has to say.”
Joshua was all false bravado, but he felt his spirits sink even lower. Over the years of ministry, he found it necessary to develop rhino hide, but he was tired, confused, and didn’t have the resolve to have to face an unruly church member. He’d try to set things right with the Battaglias, but he wasn’t in the frame of mind to kiss up to anyone.
Taking his position behind the lectern, Joshua went through the usual routine – going over the prayer list, asking for any other prayer requests (there were few), and asking a couple of men to lead in prayers. Their prayers were perfunctory and stilted, just as Joshua felt they would be. Joshua then launched into his Bible study, and it was an agonizing fifteen minutes. His talk was loping and elliptical, unfocused, and he was glad when he was able to pray and get the heck out of there. His listeners were polite, as always, but thoroughly disengaged.
Joshua and Bud left the fellowship hall together. Joel Battaglia rose from a chair beside the door as they exited.
“Joel, I understand you’d like to talk to me,” said Joshua coolly.
Joel didn’t respond, but simply glared. Joshua, taking this as a yes, said, “Let’s go into my study,” and led Joel and Bud into his office and offered chairs. Joshua pulled his chair from behind his desk. Thunder continued, a muted roar.
“Tell me what’s on your mind, Joel,” said Joshua as Bud tried to look detached.
Joel Battaglia’s upper lip trembled. “I want to know,” Joel said, “just what you think you are doing.”
Joshua felt his stomach twitch, but remained calm. “Joel, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific. Is there one thing in particular that is bothering you?”
“You bet there is,” said Joel, rage simmering just beneath the surface. “Joshua, what kind of cult activity are you involved in – and how have you managed to get others involved, too?”
Joshua started to reply, but Joel continued. “I know that you and Al McRae and the Tracys held a séance or something out at the Dubose mansion last night. Mark Tracy told Peter all about it. And because of your meddling in this wickedness, something … something unspeakable happened at our house.” He paused, breathing heavily.
“Those are some pretty serious allegations,” said Joshua evenly. “Suppose you tell me exactly what it is you felt has happened.”
Joel seemed off-balance; apparently, he’d expected Joshua to try to defend himself. Nevertheless, Joel launched into a detailed account of what had happened at their home the night before, and of the sideshow-freak appearance of a dog with human eyes. Joshua had seen plenty in the last twenty-four hours, and had already heard this story from Bud, but hearing the first-hand account chilled him.
Finally, Joel finished and sank back in his chair, spent. Bud Michaels shook his head. “Joshua,” he said, “I’ve already told you of my experiences. And even tonight at church, I’ve heard talk of what others have seen. Everywhere I’ve turned, there have been little knots of people, talking about what has happened across the membership. We can’t let this ride.”
Joshua felt as though his study had become a fort under siege. He took a few moments to compose himself, while Joel looked on expectantly.
“OK, gentlemen,” said Joshua. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I know what I’ve heard from you two and a handful of others. But I’m willing to tell you everything, and when I’m through, then you can ask me whatever you want to, Joel.”
Joshua spent the next several minutes telling his whole story, beginning with Christine Tracy’s initial call to him and continuing on through the events of the previous evening. Neither of the other men spoke, but Joel’s hostility seemed to be defused. Bud looked more tired than ever as Joshua finished the tale.
Joel spoke first. “Well, I appreciate your candor,” he said to Joshua. “Never, ever in my life have I ever heard such a thing, but I guess it has to be true. It’d be easy enough to talk to the others involved to see if your stories match up. What I don’t understand is why you felt you needed to call in a kook like Al’s cousin.”
Joshua couldn’t answer that one question to his own satisfaction. He wondered if Precious’ presence and the way he went about conducting the investigation might not have contributed to the rapidly escalating series of events. Had he, in Bethany and Christine’s words, made something mad?
“It seemed like a reasonable option at the time,” said Joshua, “but if I had it to do over again, I’m not sure if this would be the route I’d take.”
“Joshua,” said Joel, his voice steely, “its like you went against your own sermon from a couple of weeks ago.”
“Believe me,” said Joshua, inwardly cringing, “that fact has not been wasted on me. Joel, I can tell you that I’m sorry, but at the same time, you have to understand I did what I felt would be best at the time.”
Bud chimed in. “Joshua, what’s done is done, and we could sit around here the rest of the night and second guess any decisions. But what good would that do? We – you – have to evaluate what’s happened, learn from it, and resolve to not go in this direction again.”
“You should have just called the deacons together and we’d go as a group to the mansion and pray,” said Joel. “And I don’t understand why you’ve invested so much in the Dubose girl, to the neglect of everything else.”
“I don’t have a good answer for that,” said Joshua, feeling cornered, “other than I thought it was an opportunity for ministry.”
“It sounds to me like it’s been more like an obsession,” said Joel. Joshua had heard that term, too; his impulse was to simply bolt from his office.
Calling on courage he didn’t really feel, Joshua said, “Call it w
hat you will. But Joel – I have to say that without fully understanding my heart, you don’t have my permission or any right to call my motives into question.”
“If you’re responsible for what my family went through last night, then I am very much within my rights to question what you’ve done,” said Joel, his anger rekindled.
“Joel,” Bud said, “I think the devil himself is responsible for what happened to many of us last night, and its unfair to suggest that Joshua, Al, Jimmy, anyone else is responsible for that.”
Joel paused, and Joshua was grateful that Bud had taken the role as advocate. Joshua recognized that Joel’s anger was temporarily sated and took advantage of the opening.
“Joel, I can tell you how sorry I am that all this has happened,” Joshua said, “but I know it won’t change anything. I don’t know what tonight or tomorrow holds. I wouldn’t dare try to predict if anything else as basely wicked is going to happen again. I promise you this, though – I will do all that I can to stand in the breach and end this.”
The three men eyed each other, Joel still wary. Joshua could tell Bud’s mind was racing.
“Joshua,” Bud said, squinting his eyes, “what will the good people of St. Helena say when they learn that Calvary Baptist Church has lunatics for members … people who are seeing monsters behind every door?”
“We’ll be laughingstocks,” said Joel, nodding wisely.
Now it was Joshua’s turn to get his ire up. “Listen to what you’re saying,” he said, his voice threatening to crack. “You’re concerned about what people are going to say … while there is supernatural evil afoot? Men, you’d better be praying that God intervene.”
“The Lord’s Prayer,” Bud said suddenly.
“What?” said Joshua.
“The phrase from the Lord’s Prayer,” Bud said, his face lightening. “And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the Evil One. Isn’t that what we should be praying?”
