7:05 a.m.
When I woke up, Carl was patting Jade on her head as she slept.
“Those that seek, will all be saved,” he murmured. I guess he thought Jade needed reassuring in her sleep. He was lucky she didn’t wake up and slap him.
I peered at Carl through crusted eyes. It was dark. Snow was piling up against the opaque windows. “Is it morning?” I wanted him to know I was awake. “Don’t touch her.”
Carl nodded. “Don’t worry, just trying to reassure her. Won’t happen again. It’s early. You can go back to sleep.”
I covered my face with my blanket, but I could hear him shuffling around, stopping, and shuffling again.
“What’s he doing?” Alex whispered as Carl disappeared into the kitchen.
“You’re awake!” I pushed him with my foot. “He’s checking the perimeters,” I whispered back. “Is it normal to get up this early and creep around the church?”
“No,” said Jade, in what was for her a hushed voice. “And he touched my head when he thought I was sleeping.” She shuddered. “I hate that.”
“The power should be back on by now,” whispered Alex.
“Check your phone,” I said.
“No power. Guess I drained it looking at the compass.”
“You weren’t just looking at tree moss then?” I knew it.
“That does work.” Jade turned back to Alex. “Do you have a charger?” There’s one at the cabin.” She pursed his lips. “Or there used to be.” She gave Otis’s tummy a tickle. “Maybe Carl has one, or a cell phone we can use.”
Somehow I doubted that. “I’ll look around for the landline. Maybe he’s wrong about it being out of service. After all, people need to call to book all those weddings and funerals.” I said. Not that it looked like anything had happened there in the last five years.
I put on my boots and jacket and set off exploring. The church was dark, too dark to see the top of the ceiling. The generator hummed as Carl clattered around in the kitchen, singing a hymn out of tune.
This place felt like it hadn’t had electricity for a long time. Everything was dusty, abandoned, old. And that would be why Carl rigged up the generator. I walked along the creaking walls past the podium, to a small desk area at the back of the church hall. I flicked through a pile of dusty envelopes, bills from 2015.
Once I started really looking, it was obvious the church had seen better days. The paint was peeling off the walls. A black spider darted out of a crack. I dreaded to think how many more things lived inside the walls, creeping and scuttling their way around the church. The pews were worn, and the podium’s wood-trimming was coming loose. Someone had scratched 11:13 into the woodwork. I had a feeling it was Carl. He might not be the janitor, but it was very unlikely this run-down place had needed a security guard for a long time.
The floorboards creaked. I hoped the noise of the wind was covering my snooping. Next to the desk was a tall metal filing cabinet. I quietly slid it open. Two rolls of duct tape and nothing else but dust. I closed it again and looked at the desk piled with paper. And there, hidden behind a file box, was an ink-smeared beige phone. It had come unplugged from the jack. I crawled on the dusty floor to plug it back in. There was no dial tone. At least Carl was right about something. It was all looking quite sad. But not as bad as being out there in the blizzard.
Alex and Jade were sitting in front of the electric fire when I went back. The wind thrashed about outside, but the hum of the generator soothed the threat to a mere murmur.
“Need any help in there, Carl?” Alex shouted through the door. The bitter smell of coffee was percolating from the kitchen.
“Nope, I got it.” Carl emerged with three cups balanced between his hands. “How do you feel about church hospitality now?”
“Great,” Jade said, reaching for a cup. Her sarcasm went right over Carl’s head.
“We have Swiss Miss too! And since you’re early risers, pancakes,” and he disappeared back to the kitchen.
“Please don’t go to any trouble,” I yelled out. We didn’t want to owe him for anything.
“No trouble, my pleasure!” Carl called back.
“What is he doing going out there all the time?” I whispered to Alex. “There’s a ton of stuff back there. All those cans of soup, frozen pizza. What’s he hoarding it all for?” I sat down next to Jade, cradling a cup.
“That’s churches for you, full of weird shit,” said Alex.
“Yeah,” said Jade, “our church used to have tons of packets of crackers from like before I was even born.”
“We never went, so I guess I don’t know what’s normal.” I sat crossed-legged, like a schoolkid. “What does a church need that much soup for?” We should leave as soon as the storm dies down. “How’s your foot doing, Jade? Is your ankle any better?”
“Stiff, but not as bad.” She flexed it in front of me to prove she could still move it. It was swollen, but I could at least see that she had an ankle.
Carl pushed open the door, carrying a cup of Swiss Miss for Jade. “What’s not normal?”
“People making unasked-for hot chocolate,” said Jade.
“The church having lots of food stockpiled?” I said over her. “I figure you must be using it to help the needy.” I gave him a big false smile.
“I’ve been getting this church ready to receive the saved. That takes a lot of time and preparation. You can’t make those plans without a lot of supplies.” Carl narrowed his eyes at me.
“I was right, then?” I pulled my blanket around me.
“Why else would I have all this stuff?” His face flushed. He pulled out his chain of keys and swung them around his nicotine-stained index finger. “It’s to help people get back on their feet.”
“Good to know,” said Alex. “We’re all for doing good deeds.” He grinned at me.
“Doing God’s deeds,” Carl said and turned up the heater. “There, nice and toasty.”
We sat in silence, taking sips from our mugs, listening to the soft patter of snow on the roof. The wind had died down. The storm was finally coming to an end. We could leave.
Otis snuffled around the end of the pews, then sneezed and flicked his drool onto the stone-tiled floor.
“Gross, Otis.” His fur smelled of pine needles, dirt, and snow. It was hard not to forgive him. I gave him a full-on hug. “Jade, I see why you cuddle him so much. He’s like a giant quilt.” Otis licked my nose. I smiled. “Love you too, puppy.”
Otis suddenly jumped up barking, startling all of us, and raced to the front door, hackles raised, ears back, pacing up and down as soon as he got there.
There was a loud knock at the door, then another, followed by a silence that echoed through our bones.