Peter couldn’t get back to work that day. The very last thing in the world he’d expected was Megan slamming the door in his face, choosing that low life over him, ignoring his warning. Okay, she was unstable now. Kyle’s leaving and the tornado had clearly blown her world apart. But what about Mallory? How was this going to affect her? Peter’s mind was spinning. He had seen a future together with Megan and Mallory, had been waiting and planning for it for a long time. How could a wild card blow into town and take it all away from him?
Peter knew he needed to talk to someone, and again the Pastor flashed into his mind. Last time they’d talked the Pastor had told him to go find evidence that there was danger. Well, Peter had it now. He could go to him with facts and see what he would do about it.
The thought of telling the Pastor about the restraining order lifted Peter’s spirits somewhat. At least he would be vindicated. Maybe the guy would even have a good idea about what to do next. Even though Peter didn’t feel so good about their past meeting, this was a guy Peter trusted, he’d given his life over to service. In his own way, Peter felt he had done the same.
Peter left the police station and drove to the church without an appointment, as usual. It was late afternoon and the Pastor would be around, probably resting back in his home.
Fortunately the secretary was not there when Peter arrived, and he decided to go straight to the Pastor’s living quarters. As he walked along the path, though, once again loud voices sounded over the trellis in the garden.
“You’ve got to settle down, Abigail.” It was the Pastor’s voice, forceful and disturbing.
My God, they were at it again. Peter knew he should leave, but couldn’t. What in the world was going on here?
“It’s too much for me, too,” his wife responded, in her high pitched tone.
“You can’t do this to me,” the Pastor went on, “not while I’m getting settled.”
“What about me? Doesn’t it matter what I’m thinking and feeling?”
Peter felt jarred, this guy preached about love, but couldn’t quiet down his own wife. Women were unreasonable though, Peter thought. How many could put themselves in their man’s shoes? How many would stick it out for a guy they cared for? Men were better at that. Lots of them, stayed in rotten marriages for the sake of the kids. Like Peter had, all those years.
“There’s no way out,” the Pastor’s wife was whimpering now.
“We must pray for help,” he said, sternly.
“We’ve been praying and praying,” she said. “I used to love your prayers, Nelson. Now they mean nothing to me.”
That had to hurt, thought Peter. She was throwing a dagger at him, like the way Megan slammed the door in his face when he’d come to protect her. Women could be cruel and not think anything of it.
“I’m going to the church now to prepare my sermon,” the Pastor spoke to his wife as if she were an unruly child.
“Go,” she answered precipitously. “One sermon after another, but what do they really mean? The real sermon is the way you live your life, how you care for me.”
“I care for you,” he intoned sadly.
“So why don’t I feel it then?” she cried out.
The Pastor said nothing. Peter heard him scrape his chair back as Peter stepped to the side out of view, to wait. He would probably be coming out of the house any minute.
Peter was right. Once again the Pastor walked out onto the cobblestone path, down towards the church, looking weighed down and alone. Peter felt sorry for him as he walked along. All men needed someone to prop them up, someone who believed in them, especially when it was their job to prop up the rest of the world.
Peter waited for a little while longer, giving the Pastor time to get settled. Then he walked to the church to have a talk. It was important for him to know about the restraining order, to realize there was danger in town.
When Peter finally went inside the church, he saw the Pastor sitting at a small desk, writing in a large book. Then, just as Peter was going to walk over to him, the back door to the church opened, and Holly, the runaway, who was still living upstairs, walked in. Peter hadn’t seen her for a while. She’d changed a lot since he’d last seen her. Dressed now in a simple, lavender cotton dress, she looked fresh and willowy. Her long hair hung over her lovely shoulders.
The Pastor looked up at her and smiled. “Come in, Holly,” he said.
Holly went over and stood at his small table.
He seemed pleased to see her. Why wouldn’t he be, thought Peter? She was beautiful, frail, drawn to him.
“Preparing your sermon?” she asked softly.
“I am.”
They looked at each other, hesitantly.
“Did you have a nice day?” he asked gently.
“Nice enough, but I feel better now. It’s lonely out there,” she whispered.
“It won’t always be, Holly,” he looked up at her.
“I like it so much better when I’m here with you,” she replied.
It was easy to see that she touched him deeply.
“Let us pray together, Holly,” he said.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you here, waiting for me, day after day,” she went on. “I don’t know where I’d go or who I’d be with.”
The Pastor closed his eyes and took a deep breath, probably breathing in her sweet perfume, Peter thought. Then the Pastor opened his eyes and slowly, reached out for her hand. The two of them gazed at each other, holding hands, for a long, long time.
Peter’s heart started pounding. What was he seeing with his own eyes? He wasn’t really sure, but it frightened him.
“Let us pray together, Holly,” the Pastor said more deeply then.
She took a step closer to him.
“God grant us peace, grant us wisdom, grant us the power to understand the love that is growing between us,” he said.
Peter gasped. She was a teenager, he was an older guy. Whatever was happening here wasn’t right.
“Grant us the strength to know your will for us, and what to do about it.”
Peter stepped backwards out of the church. These were words he could not bear to hear. Never in his life had Peter felt so bewildered. Never in his life had he felt so alone. Things like this just didn’t happen in Tom’s River - at least they hadn’t up until now.
As Peter turned to leave the church, he thought of a sermon he’d once heard, years ago, given by the old Pastor. He’d never forgotten it either. Now the words began to roll around in his mind.
They say a spirit can come upon the land causing hard times and trouble, rooting up branches, opening the door for vagrants and wanderers of all kinds to enter the gates and descend on the people, draw them into pathways they do not belong.
Peter started trembling. Was this was the sermon had been saying? Was a blight coming to Tom’s River? Was more darkness looming ahead?