I knew I was back in the sterile world of the hospital. I could smell the bleach, hear the air conditioner. Someone laid a damp cloth on my forehead.
“Rest, Mr. Andrews,” said a male voice. “You’ve had quite a scare.”
I shuddered at the memories of that place. Mercifully, I couldn’t seem to remember a lot.
“How did my surgery go?” I mumbled.
A pause. “You haven’t had any surgery.”
Was it a dream? Everything was so confused.
“Thank you, doctor.”
“I’m no doctor.”
“Sorry, nurse.”
He chuckled. “Try again.”
There was something familiar here. I opened my eye. Denton sat beside my bed. He looked surprisingly unbruised and rested, though was wearing a shirt that was a size too big for him.
I smiled weakly. “What’re you doing out?”
He shrugged. “Let’s just say I took the initiative.”
I tried to sit up. “Sorry. I’m coming up to talk to your doctors soon.”
He gently pushed me back down on the bed. “Don’t bother. They won’t listen. One day out of the asylum and I get involved with a serial killer. They want to put me away for a long time.” He grinned. “I came to say goodbye. I’ll send you a postcard from Panama.”
I suddenly felt very lonely. Denton had been my closest ally in this mess. “Are you really headed for Central America?”
“No.”
We were quiet for a while, lost in thought.
“Denton? I saw Saberhagen just now. He says he’s going to come after me when he returns. He says it’s inevitable. I think he’s right.”
Denton, maddeningly, didn’t seem upset. “Well, you beat him once. I wouldn’t worry.”
This time I did sit up. “Wouldn’t worry? How can you say that? What about Rev. Gowen and his friends? I don’t want to end up like that!”
Denton looked straight at me. I could no longer see the burst blood vessel in his eye, and the bruises on his neck had faded. “Like what, Mr. Andrews? Okay, Prof. Roebuck vanished, but who’s to say what really happened? Sgt. Knowles died in a house fire, but is that so unusual? And poor Sammy, he was homeless. Those were violent, lawless times in his circles.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“And what about Rev. Gowen?” he continued. “He lived longer than anyone could ever hope. His last ten years were kind of rough, but for the most part he lived a dull and happy life. Saberhagen could have snuffed him out at any time, but let him be.”
I grew angry. I wanted Denton to leave. “You’re living in a fool’s paradise. I’m screwed. If Saberhagen doesn’t come for me himself, he’ll send one of his minions after me. Eventually I’ll end up dead.”
“Everyone dies in the end. They wouldn’t call it life if it didn’t end with death.”
“You know what? I think you are nuts. Good luck, and stay lost.”
“Sherman, listen to yourself!” I was shocked, bother from Denton’s uncharacteristically angry voice, and his rare use of my first name. “Do you really think Saberhagen’s the only guy with friends? Don’t you think maybe the other side has people? If you believe in the devil, then you have to believe…”
“Bullshit! Bullshit, Denton!” I was sweating under my bandages. “You know who believed in God? Steph! My friend Stephanie. She was the most faithful person I’ve ever met. And Saberhagen slashed her up like a fish. So where was her God then? Tell me, where was God?”
Denton looked down at his knees and didn’t speak for a long time. “I don’t know, Andrews. People have been asking that for thousands of years and I don’t have an answer.”
More silence. I should have known better than to argue religion. For some people, it’s all they have.
My friend rose, stretched, and picked up a satchel from the floor. “Walk me out?”
I stood on shaky legs and followed him into the hall. The ward was silent. Only a dim light from the nurses’ station revealed that anyone was about. We walked to the exit door.
“Mr. Andrews, it’s been a pleasure. Thank you for everything. You did a good thing this summer. You’ve saved lives. You may doubt yourself, but I think you’re pretty amazing.”
I was about to answer, when we heard footsteps. Denton slapped my burned back, then barged through the exit door. An alarm immediately began to sound. When a furious nurse stomped toward me, I just smiled sheepishly as she reset the buzzer, then returned to my room.
I lay there, exhausted and unable to sleep. Denton’s departure frightened me. He was the guy with all the answers. He was the one who really knew what was going on, the guy with the secrets, the one I could talk to. He’d saved my life, he’d helped me when no one else would have believed me.
I wished I had his faith. I thought of poor Steph…
Wait a minute. What had she told me about demons?
She’d said they were humanlike. That they walked among us. They were attractive and suave.
So if the bad guys are good looking and sophisticated, how about their opposites? What are the good guys like?
Ugly? Disheveled? Weird? Crazy?
My thoughts began to fly. Denton had always been there with the answers when everything looked hopeless. He was the one who told me where to go, what to do, what was really going on. A man no one took seriously and no one noticed. A man with no family, no job, no friends. Someone who appeared in my life just when I needed him, and vanished when the worst was over.
Could it be? Could it really be? Surely not.
I dozed off with a smile on my face and didn’t dream.
The council of deacons had always reminded Rev. Gowen of a group of Salem witch hunters: suspicious, angry, and eager to cast the first stone. It should have made Gowen nervous that he was the object of their wrath. It didn’t.
The wood-paneled conference room was never well lit. Gowen could only just make out the faces of the six men and one woman, with their pinched faces and disapproving glowers. The results of this meeting would decide the future of his career, if any. It was all Gowen could do not to fall asleep.
“Rev. Gowen,” said Deacon Henderschmitt, “we all are joyful that you were not injured in the fire.” To an outside observer, the deacon’s joy might have been mistaken for constipation. “However, you have not been very forthcoming about your involvement in the incident. Three people burned to death.”
Gowen shrugged. “You’ll also note that I pulled a young lady from the building.”
“Yes, Miss Hester Jones,” said Miss Farnsworth, the only female deacon. “I’m certain the young lady was grateful.” She allowed her lips to momentarily flatten, the closest thing to a smile she could manage.
Gowen had grown tired of the proceedings. “We’ve been over this before. You’ve yet to tell me what this emergency meeting is all about.” Gowen knew damn well what it was about.
Deacon Henderschmitt sighed. With a ‘this is going to hurt me more than it hurts you’ tone, he read from a prepared statement.
“Reverend Gowen, you were present at the site of a mysterious fire and have refused to explain your involvement. You have associated with men of low moral character, namely a Mr. Knowles and a Mr. Hollerback. Furthermore, while we find it laudable that you saved Miss Jones from the fire, we wonder while you feel the need to visit her so frequently.”
The last comment rankled Gowen a bit. “She’s trying to work out some problems in her life. I’m helping her.”
The deacon rapped the table. “She’s a whore, Reverend.”
“Not anymore.”
Gowen considered quoting the scripture about the woman at the well, but knew the deacons had made their decision. When they realized he had nothing more to say, Henderschmitt straightened his papers.
“Reverend Gowen, the council had decided to ask you to resign from your position. We feel it would be easier than filing a formal morals charge and removing you from the church altogether. Do you have anything to say?”
Gowen stood up, collected his coat, and smiled wryly. “Choir practice is Thursday this week. And call the plumber back about the bathroom sink. I’ll clear out my office before next Sunday.”
Gowen squinted in the cold December sun outside the church. He knew that he should be feeling regret, or anger, or something. What he really needed, he decided with absolute certainty, was a ham sandwich.
“Reverend? How did it go?” The woman was wearing a thick, black coat and matching veil. You’d have to look closely to notice how young and pretty she was. It had been several weeks since Gowen had dragged her out of the burning basement.
“They fired me. It’s what I expected.” He pulled his coat tight.
“It’s my fault.” Her tone suggested that carrying society’s blame was nothing new to her.
“If I’d let you burn in there, I’d probably still have a job. I don’t want to go back to that.”
“But…”
“Shh.”
They stared at each other for a long moment. Eventually, Gowen broke the silence.
“I have to go meet some friends.” The four survivors were going to meet in Roebuck’s office, to decide the next course of action. Was Saberhagen among the dead? Did they still need to worry?
The young lady nodded and Gowen turned to go. Then he stopped.
“Miss Jones?”
“Call me Hester.”
“Hester—would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“Yes! Um, I’d love to, Reverend.”
“Call me David.”