Chapter Three

 

A heavy hush sucked all the air out of the room, a thick silence like the eerie calm before a major storm. As Tessa moved closer to see what Lucas did, no one spoke. Serious expressions on each face told her no one thought this a joke. They believed this, every damn one of them. She took a position just a few feet away from the casket and to the right so she could see Lucas’ face.

As soon as she settled into place, Aunt Verna approached carrying a bottle of beer and a plate of food. Tessa gawked as her aunt moved between the windows and the casket to place both on Calvin’s chest. Vernie offered Lucas a nod and walked back to join the others.

Lucas bowed his head as if in prayer and said something so low Tessa couldn’t hear what it was. Then he reached for the beer. “As I drink, may his sins leave him,” Lucas intoned. “May his sins become my own.” Tessa watched as he tilted the bottle to his mouth and drank. After a long swallow, he drank until he finished it. Lucas put the empty bottle on the coffin near the floral casket spray and reached for the plate.

Tessa leaned forward to see what it held. A homemade hot roll, split and buttered, a fried chicken thigh, and a small round cake, flatter than a cupcake but similar. Lucas raised the plate high and once again said something she couldn’t understand. This time she realized the language wasn’t English. Lucas lowered the plate and turned to face all those gathered. As Tessa stared out over the familiar faces, people she’d known all her life, she noticed no children were present.

“As I eat, may his sins enter the food and become mine,” Lucas said. “I eat his sins and take them away for all eternity.”

She watched with growing horror as Lucas picked up half the roll and devoured it. He followed suit with the remainder of the bread, then ate the chicken, skin first with precise bites. Lucas finished with the cake, which he lifted up. “I finish with the corpse cake, and when I eat the last bite, Calvin Bates’ sins are mine alone.”

By the time he ate the final morsel, the air in the room shifted and the oppressive sense faded. People began to fidget once more, to move and whisper. Tessa stood riveted in place as Lucas placed the now-empty plate back on Uncle Cal’s chest. He bent forward in a formal bow and staggered as if he might fall. Two men stepped forward and grasped his arms.

Earlier, he looked well, but now Lucas’ face shifted from healthy to pale. A pinched, pained expression on his face aged him in an instant. He grimaced as if he hurt and pressed one hand to his belly. Tessa watched as he shuffled forward, supported by the men, with the slow gait of an old man or someone very ill. She took a step forward to go to him but a hand stayed her.

“You can’t,” her father said. “Let them take care of Lucas.”

“But he’s sick!”

“Yeah,” Peter Owens replied, his tone dry and harsh. “They’ll take him home now. You can’t meddle, girl, not in this.”

Restrained by her father, Tessa saw her aunt put a check into Lucas’ hand and say something to him. Aunt Verna patted his arm with a soothing gesture and backed away. As the men led Lucas toward the door, people parted but no one else spoke to Lucas. Most turned away from him as if he might somehow contaminate them. Although possessed of a strong desire to scrub her lips, still sensitive from his kisses, Tessa ached for Lucas. How he became a sin eater was something she wanted to know. She couldn’t reconcile the young man she’d known and loved with the traditional sin eater, something she’d all but decided was nothing more than an old piece of folklore, something akin to the bogeyman.

Once Lucas passed through the wide front doors of the old house, her father released his grip. Tessa flew to the windows to watch as the men helped Lucas into a pickup. They sandwiched him between them and drove away. The sound of the motor lingered in her ears, and she kept the truck in her line of vision until it vanished down the road.

The eerie silence vanished and conversation began again. Dishes rattled in the kitchen as people lined up to eat. Platters of fried chicken, plates of sliced ham, heaps of cornbread muffins and hot rolls, and more appeared. Tessa remembered well the customs. Every woman present probably toted over a dish or two, an offering of sympathy. Casseroles, salad dishes, desserts, and other foods appeared on the old dining room table. Those gathered flocked around the food and loaded their plates. Talk and even laughter rang out but Tessa sat down near the window. Earlier, she anticipated dinner, but her appetite left with Lucas.

“Aren’t you eating?” Ted asked.

“I doubt it,” Tessa replied.

“I thought you were hungry, sis.”

She leveled a double-barreled stare in his direction. “I was.”

Ted shrugged and headed off to join the line. Tessa sat alone. She wished she’d never left Nashville. Coming home to bury her least favorite relative wasn’t her idea of a good time, but she’d returned for duty. She hadn’t planned on seeing Lucas or worse, learning he’d become the local sin eater. Until now, Tessa hadn’t even believed sin eaters were real or that they still existed. She’d never known Lucas’ granddad was a sin eater, but she guessed Lucas had.

A volatile mix of emotions swirled within, a combination of anger, shock, and hurt, potent and powerful. Concern played into it, too. Tessa worried about Lucas, so much she wanted to leave to go over to check on him. In all the years she’d known him, since they were in kindergarten, she’d never known him to look so awful except when she visited him in the hospital before leaving for Nashville. Although she hadn’t wanted to see him, she had, and it changed everything. Tessa had questions and she wanted answers.

About the time she considered shucking off her high-heeled shoes and heading back to her parents a half mile down the road to get her car, Aunt Verna headed over. “Tessa, honey, aren’t you getting a bite to eat?”

Tessa forced a smile. “I might in a minute.”

Aunt Verna sighed. “Well, since you’re not eating yet, I wanted to ask you a favor.”

What now? Kill the local vampire? Go werewolf hunting under a full moon? Dance with the fairies by starlight? With effort, Tessa schooled her face to hide her wild thoughts. “What is it?”

“I’d like you to sing at the funeral tomorrow, nothing fancy, just ‘Amazing Grace,’ ‘Power In the Blood,’ and ‘Victory In Jesus.’ Will you?”

These days Tessa was more comfortable singing in a honky-tonk than at a funeral or at church, but she’d do it for her aunt. “Of course I will, Aunt Vernie.”

“Oh, thank you, honey,” her aunt said. “I know you didn’t care much for Calvin, but I’m glad you’ll sing. Things are different now he’s saved. I can rest easy knowing he’s heaven-bound. Now go get you a bite to eat before it’s gone.”

Verna planted a kiss on her forehead and left Tessa to wonder. If Cal’s going to heaven, then what about Lucas? Is Lucas hell-bound because he’s carrying other people’s sins? Somehow it didn’t seem quite fair but then again, life wasn’t. A headache blossomed in the center of her skull and expanded as Tessa joined the line for food. She put a slice of ham, some cornbread, and a piece of chicken on her plate, then carried it as far away from everyone else as she could get.

In the back corner of her aunt’s sewing room, Tessa picked at the food and massaged her temples as if she could force the headache away. “I thought you’d left,” someone said and she glanced up to find Buddy Johnson, one of Lucas’ friends, in the doorway.

“I wish I had,” she said. “I thought you left with Lucas.”

He laughed and came into the room. “I did but I came back to eat. I saw you and Lucas earlier.”

Defiance rose despite her discomfort. “So?”

“People are talking about it. See, they all figured you two were quits when you hightailed it to Nashville all those years ago, leaving Lucas half dead in the hospital. But when you left your dear old uncle’s casket to head straight for him, then vanished out the back door with him, they started wondering. I am, too.”

Buddy stared at her as he leaned against the sewing machine table. Her head pounded as if the hammers of hell played a discordant tune within. Tessa sighed. “Wondering what?”

“I’m wondering if you came back to devil him or play games? I’m telling you, he doesn’t need any more crap. He deals with enough now.”

Although Tessa didn’t figure she owed Buddy Johnson anything, she noted he questioned her because friends mattered to him. “I didn’t even think I’d see him,” she said. “But I didn’t come back to hurt him or do anything. Maybe I lost the right a long time ago, but now I’m worried about him.”

He appraised her with his eyes in a long stare and nodded. “I think you’re telling me true but I’ll say this, you ought to be.”

After Buddy tossed her the cryptic remark, he headed back toward the others and left Tessa to wonder. She decided she couldn’t finish the rest of her food and carried her plate back to the kitchen. All the clatter and chatter made her head hurt worse, so she wandered outside to sit in the same plastic chair she used earlier and waited until her parents were ready to go home.

****

“Sister told me you’re going to sing at the funeral tomorrow,” her dad remarked as they drove the short way home.

“That’s right,” Tessa said. She knew the old hymns so it wouldn’t be hard. Then she recalled she wasn’t sure what she’d wear to the funeral since her current outfit had been what she planned to wear. “Oh, crap. I don’t know what I’ll wear.”

“You can borrow something of mine, baby girl,” her mother said. The prospect of anything from her mother’s matronly Wal-Mart wardrobe wasn’t promising, but Tessa agreed.

Two hours later, headache tamed to tolerable levels with some acetaminophen, Tessa admitted she’d been wrong. Among her mom’s clothes she found a dress she could wear. The long-sleeved simple black dress featured a simple scoop neckline, a wide belt, and a straight skirt. When she tried it on, it fit well enough.

“That looks nice,” Melissa Owens said as she came into her bedroom in time to catch a glimpse of Tessa. “It suits you. It never looked right on me.”

“I’ll wear it tomorrow,” Tessa said. “Is there going to be another dinner after the funeral?”

Fingers crossed, she hoped there wasn’t. If not, maybe she could skate out of here early and get started back toward Nashville. She wouldn’t get far but Tessa didn’t care. A plain hotel room over in Springfield would provide solitude and space, two things Tessa desperately needed. She could be home by Wednesday night and back to work and back on track by Thursday morning.

Her mother nodded, dashing her hopes. “There’s going to be a dinner at Verna’s church afterward.”

Tessa frowned. “Do I have to go?”

“Everyone’s expecting you,” Mom replied.

Fine. She’d go and make nice one more time. Then Tessa would head out early Wednesday morning. “All right,” she sighed. “I’ve got a headache so I’m going to bed. I need some shut-eye.”

Sleep thwarted her. Once she stretched out in bed and shut her eyes, her brain went into overdrive. Tessa couldn’t stop thinking about the sin eater, not just Lucas, but the whole concept. Today’s events linked to the past, to what she recalled of her grandpa’s funeral and the first time she’d heard of a sin eater. She struggled to connect Lucas’ old grandfather, a sweet-natured man who’d never been anything but kind to her, with the image of the same man devouring sins to give others salvation. The idea of salvation and shedding sins wasn’t new. Her parents took her to church all her life and Tessa heard it preached from the pulpit. But the older, ancient notion of the sin eater boggled her mind. Truth was it upset her. She couldn’t quite imagine Mr. Rowlands as a sin eater or see him doing what Lucas did at Verna’s.

Each time Tessa thought of Lucas, of the words he’d said as he ate and drank over Uncle Calvin’s open casket, she shuddered. Her imagination could almost see the black sins rising out of the mean old bastard and dropping into Lucas. She wondered if Lucas had known his grandfather was the sin eater, the one people sometimes whispered about. If so, he’d never shared, but since no youth were present at Aunt Verna’s today, maybe kids and young people were shielded from the tradition. Perhaps he’d never known. Or maybe he had and she hadn’t.

Her reaction to him, the easy way they’d spoken as if she’d last seen him a week ago and her response to his kiss, discombobulated Tessa. Although never out of her mind, she’d spent seven years pushing any thoughts of Lucas away. She hadn’t expected her defenses to fall so easily. And Tessa never dreamed she could conjure up so much concern for him.

She worried because he inherited the role of sin eater, and he looked so ill she couldn’t help but be anxious. After spending most of the night awake, Tessa decided she would stop by his grandpa’s old place on her way out just to reassure herself and to say good-bye. Then she could put her fears to rest. Uncle Calvin’s funeral was set for ten a.m. at the funeral home over in Anderson, so by nine the Owens were ready to leave. Tessa, clad in the black dress and fortified by coffee, had her mood right to sing.

Once there, one of the employees pulled her aside and explained she’d open the service with “Amazing Grace.” Midway through the preacher’s sermon there’d be a pause, which was her cue to start “Power In The Blood.” After the last prayer, Tessa would sing “Victory In Jesus.”

As the capacity crowd settled down in the chapel room, Tessa stood behind the microphone with the minister from her aunt’s church at her left. When the recorded background music began, she opened her mouth and let the full power of her voice soar. The familiar words of the traditional hymn came easy and she noticed that some people mouthed the words along with her. As Tessa belted out the chorus for the last time, she saw Lucas, still haggard and hunched over, creep into the back row and collapse into a seat. She hadn’t expected him, and she missed a note in distraction.

The preacher began his message and she sank into a chair. Lucas met her gaze and offered her a slight nod, although Tessa had no clue what it meant. She endured the long message and cringed every time the preacher said, “And Calvin walks with Jesus now,” a phrase he used at least six times. Tessa sang the other hymns, her voice more muted than before. After the last, she moved away so the pallbearers could remove the casket, and she made a straight path back to Lucas.

He moved with speed for someone who looked so awful but she caught up with him in the lobby. “Lucas, wait,” she called.

He stopped and turned around at the sound of her voice. At close range, Lucas appeared worse than she’d thought. His chalky pallor reminded her of a vampire caricature except for two red patches on his cheeks. His dull eyes appeared sunken and the lines in his face aged him ten years if not more. “Hi, honey,” he said in a lackluster voice.

“Why did you come?” Tessa asked. “You look like you should be home in bed. Are you still sick?”

No more than a foot of floor separated them and as she spoke. Tessa stretched out her hand to cup his cheek, and beneath her fingers, his skin blazed with fever. Without giving him a chance to answer, she gasped. “You’re burning up!”

“It’ll pass,” Lucas replied in a weary voice as thin as onion skin. He grasped his abdomen, bent forward, and winced. “I’ll be fine.”

Without thinking, Tessa stuck her hand beneath his T-shirt and rested it against his belly. The hard cramps knotting his gut tensed at her touch and he made a slight sound of pain. Lucas never complained or moaned. If he hurt bad enough to make noise, he really hurt.

“You need to go to the doctor,” she said. “Or maybe the hospital. You’re very sick.”

Lucas shook his head. “Honey, I told you, it’ll pass. I’ve been like this before. I’m fixing to go home now.”

“You can’t drive in this shape,” Tessa told him. “Let me take you.”

Through his misery, his lips twitched into a half-grin. “Can you still drive a pickup truck or are you too citified now?”

Chin up, she told him flat out. “I can drive anything and you damn well know it. Give me the keys.”

He handed her a set of keys and put his arm around her shoulders. Tessa glanced up at him and he sighed. “Look, I hurt all over and if I don’t lean on you, I don’t know if I can make it to the truck. It’s the two-tone brown Ford, by the way.”

Heat emanated from his body and Tessa guessed his fever must be 103 or more. “Lucas, you’re scaring me. Won’t you let me take you to the doctor?”

“No,” he said. “Just take me home.”

“All right.”

Halfway to his truck her brother Ted caught up with them. “Tessa, the funeral procession is about to pull out, and Mama saw you heading this way with Lucas. What in hell are you doing? They’re waiting on you.”

Tessa paused. “Tell them to go ahead. I’m taking Lucas home. He’s really sick and I’ll probably stay over there with him for a little while.”

Ted glared at her. “Mama won’t like it. You ought not be messing in this business.”

“What business?” She had no clue what he meant.

“You know,” he said although she didn’t. “This sin eating and all will bring you nothing but trouble.”

At the core of her being, Tessa’s anger burst into flame. “Ain’t nothing new about me and trouble,” she said, lapsing into the vernacular. “I’ve found it all my life and I don’t ‘spect I’ll quit anytime soon. They can put Calvin in the ground without me.”

Against her, Lucas trembled so much she feared he might be having chills and she asked, “Are you okay?”

“It might be hard to tell but I’m laughing,” he said, half-choked. “Of course I’m about to fall on my ass, too.”

Somehow Tessa managed to fold him into the passenger seat of the truck and slam the door. She hoisted herself behind the wheel and turned the key. The Ford’s engine kicked into life, and despite the high heels she wore, Tessa maneuvered it out of the parking lot. She headed toward his grandpa’s old place but before she got all the way out of town, she couldn’t help but ask. “Do you need anything before we’re out in the middle of nowhere?”

“I got everything I need,” he groaned.

Tessa took the highway around to the turnoff, the same one she used to reach the farm. Long before she got there, however, she angled to the left over a low water bridge, then up a steep hill. The road curved and hugged the incline, then flattened at the top. A quarter mile later, she turned onto a narrow, weed-choked lane and bumped the truck to the end. The squat little house appeared less on the verge of collapse than when old Mr. Rowlands lived in it. Lucas stirred and opened one eye. “Are we here?”

“Yes. Hang on and I’ll come help you,” Tessa said.

Lucas didn’t fuss and she supported him with an arm around his waist. The front door wasn’t locked, and when she entered, Tessa found the large living room just as she remembered. A huge fieldstone fireplace took up much of the wall to the right and Lucas veered for the worn, broken-down old couch on the opposite side of the room. He flopped down on his back with a sigh as she glanced around. Everything seemed neat, each item in its place. In his grandfather’s time, the place tended to be a hodgepodge mess.

“Do you have a thermometer?” she asked.

“A what?”

“A thermometer,” Tessa repeated. “I want to take your temperature. You’re awfully hot, Lucas.”

“I don’t have one. Can you fetch me a Pepsi from the fridge?”

“Sure.” Tessa trotted into the kitchen and found it as clean and inviting as the living room. She opened a bottle of soda and carried it to Lucas. He unbuttoned his shirt in her brief absence and now held a hand over his belly.

“Does your stomach hurt?” she asked although she knew it did.

“Yeah, it does. It, and about everything else I’ve got,” he gasped as he lifted up enough on his elbow to swig some soda. “I’ve got a hell of a bellyache.”

Without asking if she could, Tessa knelt and put her hand on his right side and when he didn’t flinch, she pressed down. Lucas didn’t wince or make a sound. “What are you doing?”

“I thought you might have appendicitis,” she told him. “Fever and stomach pain are two of the main symptoms but your right side’s not tender so I don’t suppose you do.”

“I don’t,” he told her. “I had it out the year after you left, I think. I was sicker than a dog.”

Tessa peered at his side and noticed the scar she’d missed before. Her fingers traced it absentmindedly as she said. “You’re pretty sick now.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucas said. “But it’ll pass.”

Tessa removed her hand from his side but on impulse she pushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. “Do you know what’s wrong? I mean, do you think it’s a bad case of the flu or what?”

“It ain’t the flu,” he said, petulant as a child. “It always happens, but Calvin Bates was a worse son of a bitch than most.”

His last sentence made no sense to her and Tessa wondered if he’d become delirious. His fever seemed high enough it was possible. “What’s Calvin got to do with how sick you are?”

“It’s his sins,” Lucas said. “Granddaddy called this mess a ‘sin sickness.’ I’ll tell you all about it when I feel better but right now I just feel too bad, Tessa.”

Sin sickness? He must be delirious after all. Tessa unwound her knees to stand. Maybe she should call 911 for help, if she could get a signal. Or call a doctor or something. Before she could make up her mind, Lucas reached out to snare her hand.

“Stay, Tessa. I don’t mind if you stay awhile.”

God, he broke her heart. If Lucas said anything close to that at the hospital seven years ago, she’d have never gone to Nashville without him. “I’m not going anywhere till you feel better,” she told him. “But we need to get your fever down, sweetheart.”

“Good luck with that,” he said and closed his eyes.