Chapter Twenty-Six

The entry foyer of Washed in the Blood church was crowded after his sermon. The dark paneling made the room feel even smaller than it actually was. The clash of perfumes and colognes in this small space was giving him a headache.

“I really appreciated your message today, Reverend Parris,” said a short man with the beard of an Old Testament patriarch.

“I hope you take it to heart,” he replied, clasping both the man’s hands for a moment.

He continued shaking hands and accepting compliments, when he heard the women talking. He didn’t usually attend to the nonsense most women spouted, but they were talking about a carnival. It was just a month ago the Carnival Witch had escaped him. Now, God might have brought her back to him.

“She was the most amazing psychic I had ever seen. She immediately knew we were sisters. Me and Sandy couldn’t believe she was working in a carnival. She should have a TV show or something.” The woman speaking was Carla Dean, the church secretary. He had investigated her family. Her bloodline carried no taint. Although, it didn’t mean she was incapable of being corrupted.

He walked over to her. When she saw him, she plumped her hair and straightened her sweater over her too generous hips. “Reverend Parris, I just loved your sermon today. You have such a direct way of interpreting scripture.”

“I simply translate the word of the Lord, Madam.”

“Oh, do call me Carla. May I call you Evan?”

“I’d rather you did not.”

She deflated, losing her bubbles. “Of course. You have your image to maintain.”

“I overheard you talking about a psychic at a carnival. You understand such people are evil. In Exodus, the Lord tells us we must not suffer a witch to live.”

“She seemed to be a devout person, although she talked about Saints and people with the sight. I think she may have been a Catholic.”

“Ah, a worshiper of idols. It would be wise to avoid such people in the future, lest you be tainted by their malignant ideas.”

“I never thought of it that way.” Carla wrung her hands. Her eyes darted right then left, avoiding the Reverend’s gaze. “We just went in for fun. She seemed so nice.”

“Evil is often presented in a pleasant aspect, which is how the innocent are corrupted. What was this psychic’s name?”

“She was called Madam Magda. Oh, Reverend. Could you pray for my sister and me? You’ve made me afraid we might be soiled by our contact with such a woman.”

He knelt with Carla, but while he invoked the blessing of the Lord, he was making plans for the Carnival Witch. The end of his prayer was a most fervent, “God’s will be done. Amen.”