He had never succumbed to this, never been this desperate, but here, in this place, in his horrible time of need…
He crumbled to his knees, sobs racking his body. He needed help — She needed help so desperately…
The words poured out of him — Softly and urgently — fervently:
“Lord — I’ve never been a religious man, but please, please—If you’re there, hear what I have to say…”
He paused in a moment of self-recrimination and swallowed thickly. The truth and nothing but the absolute truth would do. He must bare himself completely.
“For me, I ask nothing. No mercy for my acts, no special favors of any kind. But for her, I ask protection. She’s been taken… I’ve lost her… I don’t know what to do… I beg you to intervene. PLEASE. Intervene. INTERVENE.”
His voice got excitedly louder — God must hear him! — God must help him! He prostrated himself on the floor before the shining figure of Christ.
“Lord — I’m supplicant before you — I’m here on my belly pledging my undying faith to you if only you’ll shed your inscrutable face for one brief moment and INTERVENE.”
He waited, and stared up sincerely at Christ’s face. His body trembled — every muscle held taut. He resumed his plea:
“She has always been loyal to you, unwavering in her trust — Why won’t you help her?”
He got to his feet. Anger was starting to blossom again — rolling over and through his anguish — making it white hot. His voice rose without him realizing it.
“This is no time for mystery!” He burst out. “Manifest yourself — DO SOMETHING!”
A flurry of “SHHHHHHHHHHHHS” assaulted him from all sides, the other worshippers stared with offended looks of anger. The Mexican woman from before hissed at him in an aggressive whisper:
“…This is a church — Have some respect!”
Respect? RESPECT? His Jackie was gone— taken from him by a monster that was allowed — No, encouraged to run wild by this absentee God! How DARE she talk to him about respect!
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” He shouted in her face, the octave of his voice dropping to a menacing rumble. “CAN’T YOU SEE I’M HAVING A PRIVATE CONVERSATION HERE!”
The woman and the others nearby recoiled in fear. Frank stalked forward, voice rising in fury — He leapt and clawed at the feet of the Christ statue.
“How can hell spit up such a creature only to have you watch his offenses with indifference!”
A taunting sneer crept across his face.
“A true God would not do this. A true God would protect his faithful subjects.”
He paused as though expecting this dare to draw a reaction… His frustration continued to build unchecked.
“SHOW YOURSELF YOU FRAUD!” He shouted. “By your inaction you show yourself to be either cruel or dead!”
He clambered onto the communion table narrowly avoiding the dozens of lit candles and reached to his full height. He pounded on Christ’s gaunt abdomen, harder and harder, no longer aware of the guttural grunts he was making or his numb and bloody fists, only thinking over and over again —
Fraud! — Fraud! Fraud! Fraud!
Still — even through his anger, far in the background of his mind — He hoped this provocation might still bring forth a response —
But the thumps of his fists seemed as ineffectual as his pleas. God must be dead. That people would come here expecting help and comfort was disgusting… Pathetic!
Abruptly, there was a crackling deep inside the ceramic figure that made him pause in his assault —
Had he broken it — But that sound was somehow… so… odd...?
The crackling sounded again — above him — It was impossible — Incredible — Christ’s head was moving! The statue must’ve cracked— and the head would soon fall — But no — The face was turning! Incredible! There was animation within it — The ceramic was reshaping… Flexing — The eyes flickered with sparks of life!
Frank dropped instantly to his knees, shaken to his very foundation.
God was here! God had listened! God had come in his time of need!
He bowed his head, voice trembling…
“…Christ… Forgive me… my trespasses… ”
He stole a glance upwards. Christ smiled down on him, features aglow — gracious, Magnificent…
“No one can forgive you or save you, Franklin.” Christ said in a mellifluous tone that rolled across the church with hidden portents of awesome power. “God helps those who help themselves.”
Christ turned his head and looked away, returning to his former position with a subtle crackling that ended in mere seconds. The animation and life glow was gone — The ceramic had returned to its previous form — Just a figure… A symbol… Nothing more than glazed clay…
Frank stared at it from his kneeling position for many moments, stupefied.
What had happened? Why would a deity appear to tell him only this? Surely he would not appear solely to utter this…. Pablum!
Anger began to rise in him again — Hotter… Malignant...
“That’s it?!?” Frank called up to him. “That’s all you have to say?!?”
The figure was once again fixed and infuriatingly silent. Beautiful but inanimate. Useless.
Frank rose to his feet, muscles shaking, eyes red with fury.
How dare you! He thought. How dare you take the position of Supreme Being and behave like THIS!
His reason was wiped away clean by a wave of frustration, disappointment, disgust — The severity of this injustice! — He had never before felt such pervasive rage. His whole being seemed to pulse with the heat of a single-minded ferocity that fogged all else. He rushed at the figure before him, leapt easily onto the table, bent on removing this… this…
“FRAUD!“ He screamed in a burst that almost shook the church. “HYPOCRITICAL FRAUD!”
He reached up and ripped a chunk of plaster from the false figure’s midriff, then managed to yank loose an arm.
Falsehood! Falsehood must be destroyed!
He noticed the horrified Mexican women cowering in the corners of the church and spun on them, wielding the clay appendage like a weapon and waving it wildly in their direction.
“RUN!” He shouted at them. “Run, fools — or the hand of God will strike thee!”
They scurried out the large doors, desperate to escape his wrath. Fools! Simple brainwashed fools!
A torrent of air blew narrowly past him followed by a heavy crashing thud as the Christ figure toppled from the wall and landed heavily to one side of the table. He turned to find it lying broken on the floor, exposed for what it was — an artisan’s plaster creation. He stood over it from his place on high, face twisted — vindicated and victorious.
“Laugh now, fraud! Laugh now!”
Chunks of plaster were missing from the torso, the other arm had shattered and a wide array of cracks were visible across the legs. The head lay a foot away, separated from the body at the neck, the painted eyes staring up at him from its canted angle on the floor.
That odd sound came again, the same as before — a faint crackling as the clay face slowly warped and twisted — and Christ’s sympathetic features became slowly usurped by features of a different kind.
Eli’s evil face emerged and grinned up at Frank from his new embodiment. He sneered in contempt and derision, his pointed teeth dancing with glee.
“You are so fucked up, Franklin — So fucked up. Did you really think Jesus Christ, the Jesus Christ, would speak to the likes of you? You really thought God would stoop to helping a miserable, pathetic cretin like yourself?”
Frank was paralyzed — all of his fears were realized — that face, that horrible cadence to his voice — Eli was back! And worse he had tricked Frank into anger against — Unspeakable actions against — No! No! No! Nooooooo!
Eli laughed and his mouth expanded, further overwhelming the face he had stolen.
“Face it, Franklin — I’m the only Christ yo
u’ll ever know!”
Frank dropped the clay arm as though it were hot to the touch. He stepped down from the table and stood at a distance from this unspeakable horror.
It was perverse to talk to this thing — Impossible and perverse! But he must. He must overcome his fear for the sake of —
“Where’s Jackie?!?” He asked the monster. “What have you done?”
Eli manifest his most humble and innocent expression to Frank’s utter disgust. There was nothing so foul as this thing — Such effrontery! Such falsehood!
“Me?” Eli asked sweetly. “Why nothing, Franklin. She should be home any minute. Hell, I never even met her.”
He winked at Frank from the decapitated head and continued:
“But you, Franklin — You have done a great deal. Desecrating the church. Blaspheming. Affronting God. For this alone, you will surely go to hell, Franklin… Very surely…”
Frank covered his head with his hands in despair.
What have I done? What have I done..? And that voice inside his head responded instantly this time — the voice of reason. You were tricked, It’s not your fault. Move along now, get to Jackie — Make sure she’s safe!
He lumbered towards the church doors too afraid to look again at the monstrosity he left on the floor behind him. His movements were stiff and they didn’t feel like his own — but he knew what he must do — His voice of reason was right — He needed to be sure Jackie was safe and that he was not being tricked again. He shoved through the large heavy double doors and passed the Mexican woman who was huddled on a bench outside. She flinched at his approach.
“I’m sorry…” He said as he passed her. “I’m… Sorry...”
She made the sign of the cross in the air and clutched at her rosary, repeating a prayer to herself over and over and watching him with wild bulging eyes.
Frank clambered into his car, ashamed. He had been tricked — manipulated. What a fool he’d been! The plastic compass once again began to spin and he snatched it off the dash and hurtled it out the window with an irritated growl.
“Ah, fuck you, Eli!”
***
Frank full-throttled the VW all the way home and up into the driveway. He screeched to a stop and dashed for the front door, only one thought pounding through his mind at the exact same tempo as his racing heart: Jackie — Jackie — Jackie — Jackie — Jackie —
He whipped open the front door and there she was — startled but fine — healthy, normal — here!
He crossed to her and grabbed her up in a tight embrace, kissing her neck, her head, her shoulders…
“Thank God you’re here..!” He kept repeating. “Thank God…”
She laughed nervously, her voice muffled against his shoulder.
“Frank… What’s up with you..? What’s going on?”
He didn’t want to let her go. He couldn’t let her go… She was here — safe — unharmed — Everything was all right again…
“I thought you were in danger.” He replied, still holding her tight. “I’m just glad you’re here…”
She squirmed and pulled back a little. She wanted to see his face.
“Didn’t you get my message?” She asked. “I left word I’d be in Pasadena — at the restaurant…”
He nodded — He didn’t want to meet her searching gaze. He just wanted to relax in this moment… He needed to try to calm down… He needed to get over his horrific meeting with… with…
“It’s too complicated to go into right now…” He said, trying to diffuse things. “I’m just glad you’re here. I’m not gonna let you outta my sight from now on…”
She pulled away further and really looked at him now, eyebrows arched. He’d said too much. She wouldn’t let him get off that easily.
“This is about that again, isn’t it?” She asked, voice and expression riddled with concern.
All the pent up emotions were bubbling against his skull.
He had been so afraid for her, so guilty at what he’d thought he’d caused—but now she was all right… All right…
The adrenalin that had kept him going was easing back… He was just now starting to realize what he’d been through — the impossible horrors he’d witnessed first hand…
Tears coursed down his cheeks… but still he didn’t confess.
“I want you to tell me the rest.” She said in a calm but firm tone as she laid a soft hand lovingly against his cheek. “No more secrets, Frank… You need to tell me everything.”
She was right, he would have to tell her the rest… It wasn’t fair not to… She might be disappointed — Would be disappointed… But what he’d seen tonight — What he knew now — She had to know… No matter what came of it, she had to know…
CHAPTER 26 – Conversion
The aromatic scent rose from the cups of coffee she poured for both of them, completely filling the small kitchen. He watched the corner of her mouth tighten at the furthest edge as she put the pot back in the coffee maker — a tell-tale sign of stress — their roles seemed to have reversed now ever since he’d become certain of what he’d seen and had told her as much; he was considerably more at ease while she was quite obviously disturbed.
She poured some milk in her coffee and put it back in the fridge — She knew he liked his black. She came back to the counter and stood across from him, stirring her spoon around and around. He watched her mull over how she would say what she knew she had to say. She finally couldn’t wait any longer, looked directly into his face.
“Frank…”
She said it so softly… with such caring… but he knew what would follow, and it did… He looked flatly back at her and it began…
“Frank… You know I love you…
Why couldn’t it just stop there? He thought. Why did there always have to be a “but” —
“I’m always here for you… Always —”
Here it comes —
“But as much as I want to believe you, I can’t… I’m sorry… Not without irrefutable proof… and we don’t have any…”
But he did! He’d seen it! She didn’t mean “we”, she meant “she” — She didn’t have any proof.
It stung even though he saw how delicately she was trying to navigate this. She didn’t want to hurt him. She didn’t want to alienate him. But she couldn’t pretend to go along either — she was too honest for that.
“All I can suggest is that we both take a few days off work. We’ll stick together every second. If you see something, I’ll see it.”
He started to argue but she held up a hand to silence him.
“And…”
She paused and grimaced — this was obviously difficult for her but he knew it would be worse for him.
Uh-Oh.
“…and, as much as you won’t like this — I think it’s time we spoke to someone… Someone impartial… with experience in these things… A professional — if you’ll agree to it…”
This was bad and he felt the edges of his teeth involuntarily click together with a loud snap. It was actually worse than he’d thought. Not only did she not believe him, she thought that he’d lost it. He looked across at her. She kept her eyes directly on him but she couldn’t help the series of all too frequent blinks. He obviously wasn’t the only one that was distraught at this exchange. It wasn’t hard to see how concerned she was that he might think she’d betrayed him… But how could he blame her? If he hadn’t seen these things for himself, would he believe his own story? No way. She was just being who she always was; his kind and loving and true wife. She only wanted what was best for him. He couldn’t stop his instinctive reaction of resistance — the way his cheek muscle had begun twitching like a live wire the second she’d mentioned a third party and that clamping of his teeth that made the front edges hurt... But he was wrong. He needed to put her at ease. They were, after all, on the same side.
He moved to the window and nodded, resigned.
“Okay…” He said quietly. “Whatever you think�
��s best…”
She stepped up behind him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her relief was so transparent — She’d obviously expected a major struggle. Who was he to put her through more than he already had. He loved her. He needed her. He would do whatever she wanted.
His body suddenly stiffened as he looked out the window towards the darkened street. He stared hard, breath stopping. It couldn’t be...!
“Holy shit...!” He exclaimed to her over his shoulder in an excited whisper. “Tell me you don’t see that…! Tell me you don’t!”
He pointed excitedly.
There, beneath a streetlamp that was buzzing on and off, was an old dark green wing-tailed 1952 Ford Fairlane. The interior was somewhat obscured by the moisture on the glass and there appeared to be an odd light emanating from within — or was it just reflected light from the glistening dew — it was impossible to tell.
“What? The old car?” Jackie asked, peering over his shoulder.
“Yes, the old car. A 1952 Ford Fairlane to be exact. The same as Old Eli told me he used to drive…”
He glanced at her with a meaningful look.
“Not too common anymore…”
She shrugged and tried to hide her mounting concern.
“So…? It’s just a coincidence…”
Frank stared at it — There was something — No, someone inside…
“How many coincidences are there gonna be? Look in the driver’s seat. Don’t you see the outline of a man in a hat? And the cab — doesn’t it seem like… like it’s kind of glowing..?”
She squinted. “Maybe… I’m not sure... My eyesight’s not so good, you know that…”
“Turn out the light —” He commanded. “There won’t be so much glare.”
She snapped off the switch and returned to his side by the window.
There was no doubt of it now — a smoky blue gauze seemed to emanate from inside the car that obscured and diffused all details — Except for a silhouetted figure in a hat in the front seat.
He felt her tense next to him.
“There is someone… I can see them… And the lighting is so weird… Maybe they’re smoking..?
After Death Page 21
