by Mark Lukens
“There’s a beautiful courtyard just down that hall outside,” Father McFadden said to Danny. “Just take a left out the door and walk to the end and then take another left. And don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other soon.”
It was like the priest had read his mind, and Danny could read between the lines: You’re not ready yet for the secrets that we will be discussing behind these closed doors.
Danny managed a smile. “It was nice meeting you …” Danny hesitated, searching for the right word.
“Father,” Paul helped.
“Father,” Danny repeated with a smile of embarrassment.
†
Danny walked down the hall and his hard shoes echoed slightly off the high stone walls. He turned a corner at the end of the hall and walked down another short hallway that seemed to come to an end, but then he saw a doorway tucked into the wall on the left just at the end. A set of concrete steps led from the open doorway down to an ornately designed metal gate. He could see the gray daylight beyond the gate lightening up the bottom of the steps.
He descended the steps and pushed through the metal gate. He expected the hinges to squeal, but the gate worked like it was brand new even though it looked centuries old. It seemed that there must be dozens and dozens of maintenance people to keep up with this church, which seemed more like a compound to Danny.
The courtyard was beautiful.
The walkway beyond the iron gate opened up to a rectangular courtyard that was a little smaller than a football field. The grounds were a series of small grass fields broken up by lines of hedges and walkways that meandered their way through. There were also stands of shrubs and flowers, some arranged around concrete and marble statues. The whole courtyard was closed in on all sides by the high walls of the church buildings and the gray sky formed the ceiling above.
Danny found a bench and sat down. It was chilly out here, but not too cold. He had his jacket with him and he pulled it tighter around him.
He was startled when a young priest sat down right beside him. He hadn’t even heard the man walk up to him.
“Hi,” Danny said, letting out a slow breath of air.
“Hello,” the priest said. “I’m Father Norman.” He extended a hand in greeting.
Father Norman was maybe in his late twenties, Danny guessed. He was a good-looking man with features that seemed chiseled from marble like some of the statues in the courtyard. He had jet black hair and eyes, and a quick and disarming smile.
Yet something set Danny on edge about the man. He took the priest’s offered hand and gave it a shake, a little surprised by the man’s strength.
He also noticed the ends of intricate tattoos peeking out from underneath the cuff of the priest’s sleeve when he extended his hand.
†
Paul laid the manila envelope on Father McFadden’s desk and sat down in one of the two chairs in front of the desk. Father McFadden’s office was spacious with bookshelves lining some of the walls and antique furniture scattered about tastefully. A large Persian rug covered the wood floor underneath the chair Paul sat in. A fire crackled in a stone fireplace ten feet behind Father McFadden’s chair. Two tall narrow windows stood on each side of the stone fireplace that rose all the way up to the twelve foot ceiling.
The room was comfortable and cozy.
Paul got right to the point about the report, and then he again told Father McFadden his concern about the warning the demon had given him through Father James when he was possessed. He reminded Father McFadden about Father James’s fears he had voiced when he saw him at the hospital, his sense of hopelessness and fear.
“He has been through a lot,” Father McFadden said. “But he’s back home resting comfortably now.”
“It was my fault,” Paul said, and he’d had the same thought hundreds of times now but it never lessened the guilt he felt. “I should’ve seen the signs sooner.”
Father McFadden nodded, seemingly neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Like a politician.
“An evil legion is after me,” Paul finally said. “They are after everything I hold dear. They’ve already struck my family. I tried to warn Rachael, but …”
Again Father McFadden nodded.
“I should’ve gone to Cleveland sooner whether she wanted me there or not. I had a plane ticket booked the evening of the accident, but I … I should’ve left sooner. I should’ve been there to protect them.”
“If you had gone there, your ex-wife would’ve called the police,” Father McFadden said. “You would have broken the restraining order and went to jail.”
Paul didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to; the father was right. He would’ve been arrested and Rachael’s car would’ve crashed into the lake either way. Just hearing the sensible way the priest said it eased Paul’s conscience slightly, but only slightly.
“We all make choices, Paul. That is God’s gift to us—our free will. Rachael made her choice. I’m sorry your children were caught in her decision.”
Paul sighed and looked away.
“But you still have your son.”
Paul nodded and looked back at Father McFadden. “I can’t help but think that Danny is who the demons were really after the whole time. They want to cut the line I come from before Danny can become an Investigator.”
“How much have you told your son about that?”
“A little. Not everything.”
Father McFadden sat very still. The fire popped and a glowing ember struck the metal fire screen.
“He’s already showing signs of the Gifts,” Paul said. “He’s been having nightmares, but I believe they might be visions. I think he can see the demons when they come to him in the disguise of his mother. And other people.”
“Dear God,” Father McFadden whispered. “The poor boy.”
“He’s agreed to begin the apprenticeship. To begin the training.”
“And he’s certain about that.”
“Yes. He wants to fight back. He wants revenge.”
“Not the best reasons …”
“But it’s a start,” Paul interrupted quickly.
Father McFadden nodded again, his body very still in his chair behind the desk.
“When the next assignment comes, I need to take Danny with me. I need to be by his side at all times. I need to be there to protect him.”
“Yes, of course. And you think he will be ready for an assignment?”
“He will have to be. I’ll have to give him a crash course.”
Father McFadden jumped to his feet from behind the desk and strode quickly across the room to a two hundred year old table against the wall. He poured himself a glass of scotch. He turned to Paul, lifting an empty glass, offering a drink to him with the gesture.
Paul nodded and stood up as Father McFadden poured another glass. He walked over to the father and took the glass from him. He gulped down the scotch in a few swallows.
“There is something else?” Father McFadden asked. “Something else you want to talk to me about?”
“I believe that Julia’s father, Richard Whittier, was perfectly possessed. He may not have known he was possessed until the demons took over at the very end, until we were there to exorcise the demon from Julia.”
Father McFadden stared at Paul and then poured another drink for himself.
“Do you believe in perfect possession?” Paul asked the priest.
The priest was silent for a moment as he sipped his second drink. He looked at Paul and shook his head. “I’ve heard of cases of perfect possession, but I’ve never witnessed it before.”
Paul nodded. “I have one favor to ask of you. It’s a big favor.”
Father McFadden braced himself for Paul’s request.
†
“You must be Paul Lambert’s son,” Father Norman said to Danny. A smile still played at the young priest’s lips, but his eyes were intense.
Danny smiled back. “How did you know?”
“I can see
the resemblance.”
“Really?” Danny didn’t think he really looked like Paul all that much.
“Yes. The structure of your face. The build of your body. Especially the eyes. Same dark color. Same intensity.”
“You know my father?”
“Everyone knows your father here.”
“So you know what he does.”
“It’s supposed to be a secret, but … you know how talk spreads.” The priest still had that small smile on his lips as he stared at Danny.
Danny felt a creepy feeling swirling in his stomach. He felt the chill in the air around his face and neck, the coldness sneaking down underneath the collar of his jacket, traveling down his spine. He couldn’t help shivering a little.
“What about you?” Danny asked. “Are you an Investigator for the Church?”
The young priest seemed astonished. “You think I am?”
“Maybe,” Danny said. “You have tattoos on your wrists.” Just like Paul does, Danny wanted to say, but didn’t because he noticed in these few moments that this man’s tattoos were different than Paul’s.
Father Norman looked down at the tattoos on his wrists that barely poked out of his shirt cuffs like he’d never noticed they were there before. He pulled down on the cuffs of both sleeves, covering them up. Then he jumped to his feet and gave Danny a strange smile that reminded him a little of the blond man’s smile.
“I really need to get going now. It was nice to meet you, Danny. It was really good talking to you. I hope to see you sometime soon in the future.”
As the priest stood in front of him, Danny’s entire body tensed like he was either ready to run or fight. Yet he wasn’t sure why he felt this way.
“Yes,” Father Norman said, still smiling. “I think we’ll all get to know each other real well in the very near future.”
“Danny!”
Danny turned at the sound of Paul’s voice.
“Danny, you out here?”
Danny jumped to his feet, his spirits lifted a little now that Paul was somewhere out here in the courtyard with him and this young priest who had suddenly given him the creeps. He couldn’t see Paul yet with all of the shrubs, plants, and trees in the way, but at least he was here.
He looked back at Father Norman.
But the young priest was gone.
“Danny,” Paul breathed out when he walked up to him. “It’s time to go.”
Danny looked around the courtyard, searching for Father Norman, but he didn’t see him anywhere.
“What’s wrong?” Paul asked him.
He couldn’t have walked away that fast, Danny thought, and then he looked at Paul and shook his head a little. “I was just talking to someone out here.”
“Who?”
Danny felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he stared at Paul, but he wasn’t sure why. “He was a young priest. Maybe in his late twenties. He said his name was Father Norman.”
“I’ve never heard of a Father Norman around here. I’ll ask Father McFadden about it next time I talk to him.”
Danny just nodded.
“Come on,” Paul said. “Let’s get going.”
Danny didn’t say anything else; he just walked with Paul out of the courtyard.
CHAP†ER †WEN†Y-FIVE
The next day Paul dropped a stack of books down on the kitchen table next to Danny who was slurping the milk out of the bowl of sugary cereal he had just eaten.
Danny looked at the title of the book on top of the stack: History of Demon Possessions in the United States. The book looked old. And it looked like it had a lot of pages.
“You want me to read all of these books?”
“In time. Let’s start with the first one. It’s a good introduction.”
And that was how Danny’s training began. He studied for a few hours in the morning after breakfast and then he would exercise in Paul’s homemade gym in the garage for an hour. Then an hour for lunch. And then more studying and more studying.
†
Only a week had gone by before Paul and Danny were summoned to St. Mathews by Father McFadden.
The nightmares hadn’t come back during the whole week of Danny’s training and he was happy about that.
The weather in the Northeast had turned very cold in the last few days and snow flurries danced in the gray daylight in front of the windshield as they drove to St. Mathews.
The church buildings still seemed busy with activity even though it wasn’t a Sunday. There were a lot of vehicles in the parking lot where Paul parked his Bronco.
They got out and walked briskly across the sea of pavement to one of the many buildings set off from the main sanctuary.
Inside the building, Danny followed Paul through a maze of hallways until they found the wide hall that they had walked down a week and a half ago.
The door to Father McFadden’s office was open as it had been before, an invitation to come in, an expectation that someone was arriving at any moment.
“Come on in, Paul, Danny,” Father McFadden called out from inside his office a split second after Paul knocked on the doorjamb.
They entered the office, and the room seemed bigger than Danny had remembered. The shelves of rare books and displays of antique furniture were imposing, but the crackling fire in the stone fireplace gave the room a warm and cozy feel, especially with the flurries of snowflakes swirling around outside the two tall windows on each side of the fireplace’s stone wall.
“Please sit down,” Father McFadden gestured at the two chairs in front of his desk.
Danny sank down into the chair on the left and he noticed a manila envelope in the middle of Father McFadden’s desk. It looked similar to the envelope that Paul had brought to the priest when they were here before. But the envelope on top of Father McFadden’s desk was thinner and the handwriting was a scrawl of letters, not the careful and neat handwriting from Paul’s hand.
“I’m sorry to ask for your services so soon after your last investigation, Paul. And with the family matters you’ve been attending to …”
“I want to help,” Paul answered quickly.
Father McFadden slid the manila envelope towards Paul.
He took the envelope, but he didn’t open it.
“There’s a haunting in a house in upstate New York. The house sits on a very large piece of property which is situated well outside the limits of the nearest town. There are two priests who have been trying to help the owners with this … uh, this problem, but they need more help.”
Paul nodded.
“Robert and Helen Tully own the house. They just bought it six months ago. They’re in the middle of renovating it.”
Again, Paul nodded. He betrayed no emotion as he sat like a statue in his chair.
“The two priests are from the local Parish; they’ve been there for two weeks now—in essence staying with the couple night and day. But no progress has been made yet. In fact, the hauntings seem to have gotten worse.”
Paul sat and waited.
“All the arrangements have been made,” Father McFadden continued. “Mr. and Mrs. Tully have agreed to let you stay in the house as long as you need to. Any other details you need to know are inside the envelope.”
“Thank you, Father,” Paul said and stood up suddenly.
Danny jumped to his feet because Paul had done so, mimicking his actions.
“Thank you for your services,” Father McFadden said, and then he looked at Danny. “And thank you, Danny, for agreeing to help.”
Danny just nodded at Father McFadden, and he felt his heart stop for a moment in his chest. Of course he was sure he would be traveling with Paul, he was sure Paul wasn’t going to leave him behind in his house while he was gone. But just hearing the words from Father McFadden made it seem somehow more real.
This is real. This is really happening.
“I’ll be in touch when we get to the house,” Paul told Father McFadden.
Father McFadden looked back at Pau
l. “I’m afraid there’s no phone reception out there. You will be replacing the two priests—Father Severino and Father Hopkins—and they will send word to me that you made it there safely.”
“When should we leave?” Paul asked.
“As soon as possible. Today, if you can.”
“We’ll go home and pack. We should be there by late evening.”
“Thank you. And again, I apologize for the haste with this assignment.”
Paul shook his head no and gave the priest a grim smile.
Father McFadden was up on his feet and around the desk in a flash. He moved with surprising speed for a man of his age, Danny thought. The priest offered a hand in farewell to Danny.
“Good luck. You’re sure you can handle this, Danny?”
Danny nodded, but he didn’t feel so sure.
Father McFadden shook Paul’s hand and Danny moved back a few steps to give the two men some space.
“Be careful,” Father McFadden said, and it was like he had some kind of ominous feeling about this assignment.
“I will,” Paul answered. “I always am.”
†
Paul and Danny drove back home and each of them packed a suitcase.
Danny grabbed his duffel bag and his suitcase out of his closet and laid them on his bed. He took out four sets of pants and shirts and threw them into the suitcase, not being too neat about it. He added a few pairs of thermal underwear, pairs of thick socks, two extra wool hats, and an extra pair of cloth gloves.
He saved room in his suitcase for the shoebox hidden under his bed. He opened the shoebox before setting it inside, inspecting the contents. He rifled through the photographs, looked at the pictures on the cell phone, and caressed the pieces of jewelry, especially his mother’s necklace with his sister’s charms dangling from them—a combination of their favorite pieces of jewelry. He used to carry it with him in his pocket, but now he was paranoid about losing it, so he kept the necklace tucked away in the shoebox.
He set the shoebox inside the suitcase and stuffed the clothes around the box like they were padding. He shut the suitcase and zipped it up. Then he stuffed his duffel bag with an extra coat, hat, and gloves. He added a few books to the bag—the next books in a line of books Paul wanted him to read. He threw a few notebooks and a pack of pens on top of the books.