Candy remained silent while Mary ladled gravy over biscuits and slid scrambled eggs onto everyone’s plates. She did not make a move to eat, however, and continued to stare at her siblings and mother, taking them all in one at a time. It was unnerving to Mary and even the younger ones were rattled by her intensity. “Stop it Candy,” Bobby snapped. When he threw his napkin at her she let out a hissing sound and pretended to scratch at him with make–believe claws.
The others sat back in their chairs, forks held up in the air on the way to their mouths. Candy could be a pain but she wasn’t a mean child. In fact, she was usually loving and gentle, always ready for a hug or kiss from anyone who would indulge her.
“Just leave her alone,” Jenny said wearily. “We got enough trouble. I’ll deal with her later.”
When Jimmy staggered down, his eyes bloodshot and hair disheveled, he took nothing but plain toast. “Not feeling good again,” he mumbled. “Might a gotten what you got, Jenny.”
Candy turned her gaze on him and stared without blinking, causing him obvious discomfort. “Shit, Candy, what’s the matter with you?”
She laughed then, a full–bodied laugh that was rich and deeper than her high–pitched toddler voice. The laugh rang out through the small kitchen, seemingly amplified. Mary gawked at her, her mouth slackened. “Candy?” she whispered but Candy just sneered.
With everyone watching she reached forward and grabbed the jar of grape jelly. Using her finger, she scooped up a clump of it and let it slide down her hand, staining her arm with purple. With a little “glop” it landed on the table.
“I drank their blood,” she whispered in a voice that sounded neither her’s nor human. “I drank all their blood.”
“What?” Jenny asked. She tried to giggle but it sounded forced. “Are you teasing us?”
“No!” Candy snapped, leaning forward for more jelly. This time she stuck her entire hand in the jar and grabbed as much as she could. As she smacked her hands together the jelly squirted out everywhere, landing on the table, the floor, and in Natalie’s hair.
“Hey!” Natalie yelped, jumping up from the table.
“I drank their blood,” she said again, “and listened to them scream.”
“Honey,” Jimmy tried. “Did you get that from a movie?”
Candy turned her head swiftly to face him. “Noooo,” she all but purred and then licked the jelly from her hands. “Robert Meadows died. I cut his throat with my knife and watched him bleed.”
Candy giggled then, a sickening sound that bore into Mary’s stomach. She thought she might vomit.
“I cut his throat and he bled for so long…And Pearl Ann Miller. I stabbed her chest and cut her hair. She screamed and died and I drank her blood, too.”
White with horror, Jenny reached her arm out to touch Candy. “Candy,” her voice trembled. “Where did you get that?”
Grabbing her fork Candy turned and dug it into her mother’s hand as hard as she could. As Jenny cried out in pain, Candy jumped up from the table and stood in her chair. On and on she laughed, even when Jimmy stepped forward and swatted her on the bottom. “That’s enough of that,” he yelled. “You stop that right now.”
Candy moaned and shook her head as though to drown out his voice. “I killed Raymond Martin. I killed Randall Newman. I killed Polly Patrick. I killed them all and their blood was sweet!”
Brenda ran from the room then, muttering under her breath. Bobby was right behind her, mumbling “freak” as he passed by. Candy clapped her hands in delight. “You’re all going to rot in hell, you’re all going to suffer! The bastards tried to stop me but I didn’t take their shit. They fucked with me and I fucked right back. Do you want me to fuck with you?” She stared into her father’s eyes and held onto his gaze. He didn’t waver but calmly held out his hand to Natalie who was standing closest to him.
“Get your clothes on and make sure the others are dressed. We’re going out,” he said softly, straightening his back as much as he could. “Jenny, go put your shoes on.”
“Fucking whore!” Candy screeched, her voice shrill and crazed. “Fucking whore with the serpent between her legs!”
Jenny covered her mouth and choked back a muffled scream. With tears gathering in her eyes she ran from the room, Natalie with her.
“It’s okay Jenny,” Mary could hear Natalie soothing her in the other room. “She’s just a little sick.”
“’Sick’? You’re all sick!” Candy purred. “Sick with the plague that runs through your souls!”
Mary closed her eyes and began praying, every prayer she’d ever known falling from her tongue. “Our father who art in Heaven, now I lay me down to sleep, Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” she couldn’t remember her prayers but strung them together in a frantic hope that it would help.
“I laugh at prayers you whore!” Candy said. She picked up her plate and threw it violently to the floor, making it crash into dozens of pieces. The sound made Jimmy jump but he didn’t move back.
“Go on and get your shoes on, baby,” he said to Mary. “Wait with the others.”
With her shoes on and the others dressed, Mary had all her siblings piled into the truck, waiting, when Jenny and Jimmy ran from the house. He’d wrapped a blanket around Candy, enclosing her small body as tightly as a burrito. Her arms and legs were trapped inside, unable to move, and she thrashed violently in Jimmy’s arms, trying to escape. Despite his back he held onto her, keeping his face turned away so that it wouldn’t be struck by her spitting.
Jenny drove while Jimmy sat in the passenger seat, doing his best to hold her powerful movements down. Even through the wind and the glass Mary could still hear her little sister screaming, sometimes talking gibberish and sometimes using curse words Mary herself didn’t know.
She wasn’t surprised when Jenny pulled up in front of their small Baptist church. Since it was Tuesday nobody was inside but the preacher lived next door in a little Bedford stone house. The kids waited while Jenny sprinted to the door and knocked. When there was no answer right away Jenny knocked again, this time with more force. She hopped from one foot to another, jittery with anticipation. When the slender elderly man opened his door, Mary could see that he was wearing a bathrobe. Although Mary couldn’t hear them, she could see from the way Jenny waved her arms around and pointed to the truck that she was trying to make him understand the severity of the situation. When he closed the door some minutes later and Jenny headed back to the truck Mary was sorely disappointed. She felt despair washing through her and wanted to fall over in tears. Surely if anyone could help them it would be her preacher. But he had left them alone, too. They would handle it all on their own and Mary didn’t think she could bear that.
When Jenny opened the door, though, she said, “Bring her to the sanctuary. He’ll meet us there.”
Candy’s screeching and hissing intensified when they stepped up on the porch of the tiny little white church. Jimmy looked pained and weary, as though his body would give out at any moment. Mary wanted to offer to help but knew she couldn’t hold Candy on her own.
When the preacher unlocked the door and let them in Candy let out a wail that sliced through the air. The church bell above them began to move then, its steady tone drowning her out. Mary took a moment to savor that sweet reprieve and then followed her family into the sanctuary.
Reverend Loyal House was a no nonsense kind of man. He believed in the Old Testament and was as fire and brimstone as anyone could be. He didn’t understand this new phase going on, where churches focused more on making people happy than putting the fear of God into them like they should be doing. He’d seen a lot in his fifty two years as a preacher. He seen his share of murders, suicides, divorces, addiction, and illness. He had never, however, seen anything like the sight in front of him.
He liked the little family, the kids with their beautiful blond hair, the parents hardworking and spirited. He knew people talked when Jimmy divorced his first wife and m
arried Jenny, who already had a son of her own and still a teenager. A lot of folks didn’t like Jenny. He, however, had respect for her. It couldn’t be easy to marry a man who came with four kids of his own, much less take them on as hers and mother them. And he knew she did her best.
The children were always well–behaved at church. They dressed as well as they could in their hand–me–down clothes, scuffed secondhand shoes, and little dollar store purses. The girls had voices like angels and he could always pick them out when everyone was singing. They said “yes sir” and “no ma’am” and were always the first to volunteer if anyone needed anything.
Candy, being the youngest member of the congregation (at least until Suzy Mays had her baby in the fall) was babied and petted on by half the members of the church. She was always ready with a big grin and hug for anyone who approached her.
The family who stood before him, however, was something else. Candy’s sweet face had been replaced by a distorted one, a face raging with anger and madness. Her lips sneered, she panted and hissed as her eyes darted around the room, taking in the crosses and stained glass windows depicting the apostles. Jimmy was almost unrecognizable with the dark circles under his eyes, the sunken cheeks, and weight loss. His clothes hung on him like a scarecrow. Even the children were pale, their beautiful hair brittle and lank. They looked like a band of orphans, all hope and faith gone.
“Can you help us?” Brenda asked pitifully. “Please?”
The others nodded their heads.
“Sit down please,” he gestured to the pews. They all obeyed promptly, turning their eyes on him in expectation. The pleading looks on their faces shook him to the core. He squeezed the Bible in his right hand a little harder. “Now, tell me what’s been going on.”
For the next fifteen minutes Jimmy and Jenny told Reverend House about their new home and the strange occurrences that had been happening since they moved in. They talked about the woman Laura had seen, the scent coming from the cellar, the red stain in the floor, the Bible being destroyed, the broken crosses, and Lulu getting trapped downstairs. However, they also spoke of things that the children didn’t know anything about.
“A few days ago, Reverend, I was laying there on the couch trying to get some rest. The kids were all outside playing. I was kind of dozing off and on and then I heard something, something in the kitchen,” Jimmy said. “It sounded like scratching, like maybe a dog or cat trying to dig something up. But then, well, then I knew it wasn’t.”
“What happened?” the Reverend prodded gently.
“I could hear the table moving. I knew that’s what it was. I raised up and looked in the kitchen and there was the table, rocking back and forth. The linoleum was moving, too, like someone was under the trapdoor and trying to push their way out. It lasted for a minute or two and then stopped. And then I heard…” Jimmy stopped and took a breath before continuing. “I heard crying. Loud crying, like someone’s heart was broken. I couldn’t stand it. I ended up going outside with everyone else.”
“I’ve been hearing and seeing stuff too,” Jenny explained. “Sometimes just out of the corner of my eye, you know? It will fly by fast as lightning. Sometimes it’s a woman, sometimes a man. Once it was even a kid. And the chanting, oh God the chanting. It keeps me up at night.”
Mary sat back in bewilderment. Chanting? She’d never heard that. She was suddenly glad for the white noise her fan made.
“And now your little one,” Reverend House added.
They all nodded.
“I have to tell you folks, this is unorthodox for me. I am not an exorcist, I can’t perform miracles. For that we have to turn to the good Lord. However, I believe you when you say there’s something wrong in your home. I can smell it even now. It’s clinging to you and your clothing. I can offer a prayer for you, and lead you in prayer right now.”
Mary nodded her head emphatically. Surely, with a preacher praying, everything would change for the better.
Reverend House had them all get in a circle around Jimmy and Candy. They held hands and bowed their heads as he began to lead them in prayer. His voice was low at first, barely more than a whisper. Candy was still for the first time since Jimmy picked her up, interested in what was going on.
As his voice rose, however, and echoed through the small church she began to thrash again, crying, “No! I’m burning,” and banging her head against her father’s chest. Mary felt tears rolling down her cheeks, the thought of her baby sister hurting, but she continued to pray, to hold tightly to the hands of Natalie and Brenda, as the Reverend droned on.
On and on he prayed, his voice ringing in a sing song pattern, a song or chant of redemption. He prayed for grace, for peace, for the deliverance of evil. He prayed for safety and hope. Jenny and Jimmy followed him with his “amens” and Jenny cried out at one point, moved to tears by the way peace began to fill her heart. Candy thrashed again, moaning and crying and begging everyone to stop, sometimes calling for her mommy and other times her daddy. Jimmy kept a firm grip on her, however, and rocked her back and forth, cooing to her softly.
And then, just as Mary thought Candy’s cries couldn’t get any louder, they did. With one final shout she screamed into the sanctuary, causing the silver collection plate to rattle and fall from its shelf. Mary shook and tried to cover her ears but Brenda and Natalie held onto her tightly.
The scream carried on and on, as though Candy might never run out of air. Mary imagined it could be heard everywhere, ringing out through the countryside like a warning bell. She sobbed aloud then, feeling ashamed and scared. The sound of Candy’s cry was a primeval one, barely human.
And then, it stopped.
Candy fell limply against her father, her small mouth open in an “o.” Mary dared a peek at her. She’d changed drastically, the soft light coming back into her eyes. Her lips were pink again instead of white, and there was a small smile playing upon them. The rush of relief Mary felt was overwhelming. She knew, then, that Candy would be okay.
“Let us sing,” Reverend House commanded and they all joined into three versus of “Old Rugged Cross.”
Day 7
“We have to know what’s going on here,” Jimmy said as he paced back and forth in front of the couch.
Jenny nodded and stroked Candy’s hair. Candy hadn’t gotten far from her mother in the past day and a half. She was always a little clingy to start with but since her ordeal she’d become even more so.
“I’m gonna go talk to some neighbors, see what I can find out,” Jimmy declared. “If we knew what we were dealing with here we might be able to fix it.”
Mary wasn’t so sure about that. She just wanted out, forget “fixing” the house. “Can I go with you Daddy?”
“Yes, pumpkin, you can ride with me.”
With more vigor in his step than she’d seen in a week, Jimmy hopped up into the cab of the truck. She slid in beside him and they started off down the road. The first house they stopped at was a little brick ranch, about a quarter of a mile from their house.
The woman who opened the door was middle aged and had two toddlers clinging to her skirt. Her hair was long, down to her waist, and her denim skirt made Mary think she was one of those Pentecostals or “Holy Rollers” as her daddy called them.
“Hi, ma’am, my name is Jimmy and I live down the road from you in that white farmhouse. This here’s my daughter Mary,” he began.
The woman looked at them with interest but didn’t budge from the door.
“I was wondering if you knew anything about that house,” he said. “Any history of it? We’re having some, er, problems.”
“No, sorry,” she shook her head. “I just moved in here myself about a year ago.”
The next two houses they tried didn’t have anyone home.
Mary could tell that Jimmy was tired and growing frustrated. When they pulled up in front of another big white farmhouse, however, she could see an elderly couple on the porch. Oh please let them know something, she prayed
.
Jimmy introduced himself again and went into his spiel. When he was finished the old man in overalls glanced over at his wife and then back up at Jimmy. “You mean Turner’s?”
“Turner’s what?” Jimmy asked in confusion. “The landlord’s name is Estes I believe.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” the old man agreed. “But back when it was a home it was Turner’s.”
“A home for what?” Mary ventured.
The old woman was stringing beans, her hands moving in a steady rhythm as she slid the strings down, snapped them in half, and threw them in a Tupperware bowl.
“Funeral home,” the man replied. “Turner’s Funeral Home.”
“No, that must be something else,” Jimmy said. “This is a house we live in. It’s just a regular house.”
“Big staircase inside? Barn out back? Big tree in the front yard?” the man asked.
Jimmy nodded. “Well, yeah.”
“Yep. That was the funeral home.”
“Are you sure about that?” Mary whispered, feeling the blood rush from her face.
“Been to many a funeral there,” the woman said. It was the first time she’d spoken. “Place shut down, oh, I’d say about ten years ago. For a long time that house was empty.”
“All kinds of things going on in that old house,” the man agreed. “Kids used to sneak in there, have their satanic rituals, talk to the devil. Trying to conjure up their demons. Police run lots of ‘em out, carrying their candles and them Wee–jee boards with ‘em.”
Stunned, Jimmy and Mary looked at one another. “Well, that ain’t the only thing about that old place,” Mary said after a moment. “It’s pretty close to the mound.”
“What mound?” Jimmy asked.
“This whole area,” the man gestured with his hands, “was a big Indian village. One of the only ones in the state. There’s some spiritual rings and Indian mounds, gravesites, all over the place. Biggest one is just behind that house. Lots of fighting between the white man and Indians here, uh huh,” the man nodded. “No telling what all you see and hear.”
Two Weeks: A True Haunting (True Hauntings Book 3) Page 7