Faces of Beth, page 23
Something that might’ve been born right here in this church.
How does something evil grow inside a place so holy?
Andrew quietly got out of the car and stood in the open doorway,
staring over the vehicle’s roof and through the chain-link fence, at
the church he supposed his wife once called home. It wasn’t much to
look at now. It was clear the place had been fixed up only enough to
serve its purpose after the fire took out the second floor.
Now, what was once a fairly large school was reduced to a small
rectangular building that probably served as apartments for the
priests and nuns still living there. At the building’s center, the roof
shot upward into a tall point, the church’s steeple, where a large
cross looked down over a small garden and what was probably the
children’s playground once upon a time.
Andrew imagined there had probably been slides, swing sets,
and maybe even monkey bars when Beth was a student here. Now,
there was only a freshly cut lawn, two benches, and a fountain with a
statue of the Virgin Mary at its center pouring water into it from a
bowl tucked under her arm.
Sometimes churches gave Andrew the creeps. Not all of them,
but some filled him with dread rather than the uplifting peace and
serenity everyone else seemed to experience. This church, and
maybe it was because he knew something bad happened to his wife
here, seemed ominous. Here he was assuming Beth attended
classes here. It made sense. He supposed he would find out once
he shook her awake.
Andrew couldn’t shake the feeling the church was alive and
staring back at him. He tore his eyes away from the church and
glanced at the neighborhood around him. It was quiet. Behind him,
across the street from the church, was an empty park that was
clearly neglected. Garbage was strewn all about and someone
desperately needed to rake the leaves.
The homes around the church had the glow of lights behind
drapes and curtains, but any nightlife took place behind closed
doors. Nobody walked the sidewalks or sat on porches gossiping. It
reminded Andrew of his great grandparents’ neighborhood he used
to visit as a kid. It was full of old folks. Like everyone in the area had
moved there all at once in their late twenties to early thirties, claimed
all the property, and then sat on it and refused to let anyone younger
move in.
Mass at church must have been full of folks with white hair, bald
heads, wrinkles, and liver spots.
This was the kind of place where most of the inhabitants would
die all around the same time and then their younger family members
would move in or the properties would be sold and a whirlwind of
upgrades would take place, whipping this place into shape and
turning it into a modern mecca with trendy upscale shops, fine dining
establishments, and condos.
Then this church, which had probably been here for ages, would
have to modernize—or move. Developers wouldn’t stand for this
stain on the block. They’d probably knock down the church and build
a 24-hour gym.
Why exercise the soul when you can strengthen the body? Only
one looks great in selfies.
Andrew closed his eyes and massaged his temples. He was
losing focus, thinking about things that had nothing to do with his
situation. The truth was, he was afraid. Looking through the fence
and at the church’s front doors once more, he realized he was
scared of the place. Not because it was a church, and he was some
filthy heathen. He thought of himself as a decent man, but he was
terrified of what could have happened in there to make Beth turn out
the way she had.
He leaned down to peer into the back seat. Beth was still asleep.
He hated waking her, but this wasn’t something he could do alone,
and he wouldn’t let her out of his sight even if it were.
“Baby, it’s time to wake up.”
She mumbled something in protest.
“Beth, baby. We’re here.”
It was clear right away, by the way she rubbed at her eyes with
two closed fists, that Alex was still in control. She dropped her hands
into her lap, frowned, and looked back at him with only her right eye
open. “Daddy?”
“Alex, we’re here.”
She turned her head to look out the window. When she saw the
church, her head began to slowly move from side to side as she
shook her head in protest. “No,” she whispered.
“We’re going to see the lady in the funny pajamas.”
“They all wear funny pajamas here.”
So, this is the place.
He was right. Beth had attended classes here. Relief washed
over him that he might get some answers but at the same time, he
loathed what he might learn. Did he really want the truth about
Father Dennis? Or about his wife’s connection to the demon?
This might lead you to the only way to defeat him before you lose
your wife forever.
Andrew focused on the present and tried to keep the
conversation lighthearted by answering Alex with, “Well, you like
pajamas, right?”
“Only my unicorn ones.”
“Let’s pretend everyone’s wearing unicorn ones.”
She smiled. “Even me and you?”
“Sure, kid.”
“Okay, but you promise you won’t leave us here like Beth’s
daddy?”
“I promise I won’t leave you here. I’m never leaving you
anywhere.”
She pursed her lips and looked once more out the window before
taking a deep breath, swallowing hard, and replying, “Well, okay
then.”
Alex scooted toward the driver’s side of the back seat where
Andrew took her by the hand and helped her out of the car.
Andrew glanced once more down the street as they made their
way around the car and toward the church. Not a single car moved
from its parking spot. Inside all those houses he imagined people
watching reruns of old shows like Gunsmoke or maybe even 80s
sitcoms like Night Court or WKRP in Cincinnati. No, people were
probably sitting on their couches eating microwavable TV dinners on
foldable dining trays while watching Wheel of Fortune, Jeopardy, or
other gameshows old people liked.
What will Beth and I watch at their age? What will a judgmental
asshole like me guess about us when we’re in our seventies or
eighties?
Because they would grow to be that old together. He had to
believe that. Tonight was only a steppingstone. It was another test to
their marriage, another hurdle for them to get over. Once they
survived this, because they would, how different would life be without
Peter or Ruby? Would that mean more rotations for Alex and Gore?
Or was he wrong about the other two and they weren’t really dead?
Was it possible it had been in his imagination?
With his free left hand, because he held onto Alex’s with his right,
he rubbed at his left temple. He felt like he was going crazy. So
many absurd things had happened today. The events at Myles-Bend
had definitely occurred, but the dead teenage boy and the sexy
lifeless blonde, both evaporating into thin air – that shit was insane. It
defied all logic. They weren’t real people.
He’d just lifted the latch that allowed them access to the garden
and the walkway to the church doors when his cell phone buzzed in
his pocket.
“Hold on,” he told Alex as he pulled out his phone and checked
the screen. He didn’t recognize the number. He hit the button to
answer it, held it to his ear, said hello, and felt his heart drop at the
dry, frigid tone of the person on the other end.
“Andrew Mason?” the voice asked.
“Yes.”
“Husband of Bethany Mason?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad I was able to reach you. I’ve tried calling a few times.
Left a couple of messages. This is Detective Pierce with—”
Andrew hung up his phone, dropped it on the ground by his feet,
and smashed it with the heel of his shoe. He didn’t know if it would
do anything to prevent the cops from tracking him, but he’d seen it
done in action movies and thought if there was even a chance it
would work, it would be worth it. He would deal with the cops later.
Right now, he needed to save his wife, and the police would only get
in the way.
“Uh oh,” Alex said. “You broke your phone.”
“Yeah, it was junk anyway. I needed a new one.”
With that, he pulled her toward the big double doors that led
inside the main church. He was about to grab hold of the handle and
enter when Alex tugged on his finger and said, “Not in there.”
“Huh?”
“That’s the church.”
“Yeah, that’s where we’re going.”
She shook her head and pointed at a door off to the left. It led
into what looked like the apartment complex part of the building.
“Over here then,” he said as he listened to her and approached
the other door.
As he grew closer, he saw there was a small plastic strip near the
top that read: Office.
He reached for the knob, but it was locked.
“Great.”
“It’s always locked,” she said.
Alex, for being the child of Beth’s personalities, was proving to be
most helpful. Peter had always been pretty much useless caught up
in his video games, Ruby only desired sex, and Gore was an
asshole who only wanted to go out late at night and hurt people.
Andrew was lucky to have Alex with him right now.
He didn’t think to check the time before smashing his phone, but
he guessed it was sometime around eight o’clock. The night was still
young and maybe someone would answer if he knocked. So, he did.
Light knocking got him nowhere, but once he began to pound on the
door, he heard movement on the other side and an old man’s voice
said, “I’m coming. I’m coming. Hold your horses. I’m coming.”
The door popped open and there stood a short old man with a
ring of white hair on his head. He wore a normal house robe that was
much too large for his body. A crossword puzzle book was crammed
into one of the front exterior pockets. He squinted in the light shining
down from above the door.
“I’m sorry, but we are closed at this hour,” he said.
“I understand,” Andrew replied, “but this isn’t a normal
circumstance. My wife, Beth, um… this is Beth here with me. She
attended the school that was once here. We are having some…
uh… some trouble and I was wondering if maybe one of the nuns
who was here at the time might still be around.”
The old priest stared at Andrew with his eyes still squinted and
his mouth open, tongue sticking half out of his mouth, like he was
trying to understand what Andrew was saying by tasting his words
on the air.
Finally, he slammed his mouth shut, sucked on his teeth with a
loud smack, and said, “That was a long time ago. And as I said,
we’re closed. Maybe if you come back tomorrow, we can—”
“We might not be alive tomorrow,” Andrew interrupted him. “This
is a serious situation, Father. I’m sorry. I’m assuming you’re a priest.”
“I am.”
“I’m afraid we’re in danger.”
The priest stepped through the door and looked out into the
garden, left then right, then looked past them and out into the street.
He cocked his head to the side and returned his gaze to Andrew
before letting his eyes fall on Beth, or Alex, who had her shoulders
hunched and was staring at the floor.
“Come in,” he said. “I’m Father Frederick. Come inside the
doorway here, but only inside the doorway. I still don’t know about
this, and I can’t have you wandering the halls.”
They stepped into the warm dim glow of the doorway. Father
Frederick closed and locked the door behind them.
“Do you happen to remember the sister’s name who was here
when you attended the school?” the priest asked Alex.
When Alex didn’t answer, Andrew rubbed a thumb against her
palm and said, “It’s okay, baby. I know you’re afraid, but you can talk
to him. He’s trying to help us.”
Alex shook her head and kept her eyes at the floor.
“You can look at him,” Andrew told her.
She shook her head. “The father told us we don’t look at him. We
never look at him. Our eyes belong on the floor. And our mouths
wherever we’re told to put them.”
The priest’s eyes opened wide, and wrinkles formed across his
brow.
A chill ran down Andrew’s spine. He’d never heard the story of
what happened here, but that was almost enough.
“I can assure you that is not something we—” Father Frederick
began when Andrew let his anger take over.
“What exactly went on at this school?” Andrew asked, his inquiry
aimed at the priest.
Of course, it wasn’t Father Frederick’s fault, but he couldn’t help
feeling like the man was associated with a corrupt system that had
hurt his wife. His instinct was to protect his wife, so he stepped in
front of her as if to shield her from harm.
“Oh, my child,” Father Frederick said, shaking his head, sadness
written on his face. He put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder and gently
moved him to the side so he could address Alex. “I’m sorry for
anything you have suffered here. You must have been here toward
the end when Father Dennis oversaw things.”
The mention of the demon priest’s name was enough to make
Andrew wince. Like his name being spoken out loud might summon
him to the church.
Alex nodded but only barely. It was more like a slight tremor, a
quick jerk of her head.
“Only one of our nuns was here at that time. Sister Mary Francis
assisted Sister Antionette in managing the younger children of the
school. I believe all the girls from second grade under. Sister
Antionette passed away a few years back, but Sister Mary Francis is
still here. She lost her vision in the fire that consumed most of the
school, but she has a sharp memory. She would be the person to
talk to.”
“I know it’s late,” Andrew said, “but do you think we could talk to
her?”
Father Frederick looked at Alex who was still peering at her feet.
He shook his head slowly, not saying no, but showing his disgust for
the suffering the girl had gone through because of a history at his
church.
“You know what they say about bad apples,” the priest said. “The
world has rotten fruit strewn about. In police departments, in schools,
in our military, in government offices and all forms of politics, and
every single other place there is. If you look hard enough, you will
always find abhorrent, evil, vile entities the enemy has sent to
infiltrate places we think of as safe-havens. Satan is a tricky fella. He
creates some of the best masks, the most amazing costumes, and
keeps his demons smiling with the most outstanding special effects,
so good we can’t see it for what it is even while our people are in
constant agony, and the demons are laughing. And, so, it happened
here as well. Father Dennis was a black mark on the Catholic
church. He wore his mask, danced his jig, all while the children
suffered. I hope you can understand that.”
Andrew nodded.
“Good,” the priest said. “I will see if Sister Mary Francis is up to
speaking right now.”
21
Ten minutes later, Andrew and Alex sat in chairs across from Sister
Mary Francis who was still dressed in her nun’s habit. Either she
hadn’t changed clothes for the evening, or she’d redressed for them.
Andrew wasn’t sure what nuns wore to bed. Did they sleep in their
habits, or did they change into robes or pajamas as Father Frederick
had for the night?
The old lady’s face was pale, and she had scarred skin around
her eyes, forehead, and nose. Her eyes were milky white. She was
blind, Andrew knew, but it still felt as though she were constantly
staring directly into his eyes. She smiled from time to time and
Andrew got the feeling she was a pleasant person, a sweet lady, but
could be tough when necessary. When the school was open, she
must have ruled with an iron fist and pampered with a feathered
glove.
Andrew sat quietly, looking around the office. Bookshelves lined
the left wall with several Bibles, a large variety of encyclopedias, and
