“Do you think I might have these abilities?” I asked.
“It's possible. I imagine this isn't the first time you experienced something like this?” She asked.
“It's the first and only time."
Marla's face went pale. “I've never heard of anyone discovering these abilities as late in life as you have. This concerns me Will. Usually a person first encounters their gifts when they are quite young. In childhood.”
I sat back, clenched my fists, and wipe my hands on my trembling knees. I remembered the dark entity telling me that he was giving me a gift. I was in great danger. It was unnatural for me to have this ability. I looked up at Marla who's concern deepened. It wasn’t until I was out the door and on the street that I realized that I hadn’t paid or even thanked her for her help. I was too afraid to go back. She was too afraid to come after me.
“Mr. Stark!” The sound of his voice ignited my blood pressure. My feet were frozen to the sidewalk. “Turn and face me, son.” The lump in my throat swelled bigger as I pivoted around. Mr. Channing was standing on two old milk crates underneath the same lamppost on the same street corner he had been for the past three years.
“Mr. Channing.” I cleared my throat and addressed him. “It isn’t Sunday.”
“The Devil never takes a day off. Why should I?” His eyes starred at me with forced intention.
“I see.” I replied.
“I warned you. God is watching.” His eyes held me frozen in their grip. “I saw you come out of that shop of evil. That sorcerers den, the Devil’s den.” My feet still couldn't move. “I’ve got my eye on you boy. Don’t think I don’t. I know you were involved with my daughter, and that devil worshiping murderer!”
“I am sorry for your loss. Believe me. I'm grieving Allison’s death more than you know. She was very dear to me, sir."
Mr. Channing's lip curled. “Lies! You were in on it. You and that Fritz boy! I know you had something to do with it!”
My fists gripped down on themselves causing a sharp tingling in my hands. “I’m the only one who tried to help Allison. I tried to pull her away from him. I tried to save her from going down that path!”
Mr. Channing tilted his head back and looked toward the sky and then back at me. “And look at you now. Running toward the very thing you were trying to save her from. Running right into the Devil’s welcoming arms. Running right where you belong.”
“You’re the one who belongs there! You’re the one who abandoned her, who drove her away, who drove her into Corey’s arms! You should have been there. Protected her! You ran like a coward! You belong in hell! Not her! You killed her!" I screamed.
Mr. Channing was stunned and visibly shaking. No one ever dared challenge him. Several people stopped to stare. A few had recorded the incident on their smart phones. I didn’t care. Whispers swirled around me. The same ones that came from my closet, urging me to rush him.
“Knock him off his pedestal! Strike him down! Use the gift that's been given to you.” The voices shouted in my ear. I envisioned the milk crates shattering and Mr. Channing breaking his neck. I slowed my breathing, took control, and stepped back.
"Don't ever come back!" Mr. Channing's temper took hold. His knee buckled and the crates crumbled beneath him, causing him to fall forward into my arms. Our eyes met in icy cold stares. No words were exchanged, just hate and its wicked vibration.
Chapter 15
I ate lunch by myself the next day which was like signing your own death sentence. A one way ticket to high school exile. Randy and I barely spoke more than two words to each other since football ended. I needed his friendship but feared I had burned that bridge by my actions at the party, which now seemed so long ago.
Michelle glanced over to me from her table of friends. Maybe she took pity on me, knowing how much I cared for Allison. Whatever the reason, she walked over and sat down.
“Hi Will.”
“Hey Michelle.” I smiled politely back.
"Did you get some sun?" Michelle asked, signaling that she could see my face turning red which only made the blushing more vicious.
"Um, I don't know. I guess." I looked at my plate to avoid eye contact, hoping she would go away.
“I just want to say I'm sorry. You must be going through things I can’t even begin to understand,” she said.
Her words were comforting and validating. More than anyone, she understood what Allison meant to me. Maybe it was because they were so close. Maybe Allison confided in her, things about me that only the best of girlfriends can share with each other.
The intensity of the heat on my face cooled as I relaxed. “Thanks Michelle, that means a lot. I am, but I am ok.”
“If you ever need to talk." She touched my arm before getting up to leave.
“Wait.” I called out. “I would like that, to talk.” Michelle sat back down. I sensed she was uncomfortable, thinking I would just exchange a polite smile and not really engage her offer. I took a deep breath. “I just don’t know Michelle. What happened? How did it get so bad? There's just so many questions.”
“I have the same questions Will. I don’t know if we'll ever know. All we can do is try to make some sort of peace with the unknown.”
“I can’t do that.” I shook my head.
“It’s ok Will.” Michelle’s face was somber.
“It’s just, her father. He has a way of getting under my skin like no one else, you know. The thought of him makes me furious.” I clenched the cafeteria knife in my hand and told Michelle about our altercation in the street.
“I know Will, there's cell phone video on the internet."
“I don’t care. I don’t care who knows. That man is evil. He drove Allison to this. He thinks he's some sort of holy knight striking down evil forces and doing God’s work, but he couldn’t even love his own daughter.” My heart pounded as Michelle's eyes stared into mine.
“I think he snapped after what happened to Allison's mother. People say he was to blame for her disappearance, or at least knew about it. Maybe he knew he was guilty and the guilt drove him to madness. To seek refuge behind religion. He took it to extremes. He's trying to run from his guilt rather than deal with it, blaming others through his hate preaching. Deep down he craves punishment.” I said.
“I know Allison blamed her father for her mother’s disappearance. She had to. I heard a rumor once that he was involved with the Outsiders and when things got too intense he tried to leave. People say his wife was taken and used as a human sacrifice. Do you believe that Michelle?”
“I don’t know. To be honest, I don’t know what to believe around here anymore. Sorry Will, I have to get to class." Michelle stood up from the table and began to walk away, stopping abruptly and turning around. “She would have said yes, you know.” I glanced up, confused by Michelle’s statement. “She would have gone out with you, you know, if you would have asked her.” Michelle gave a kindly half smile before leaving. "She was planning on asking you out. I don't know why she backed down. That's when everything fell apart and she started going with Corey." A rock fell on my soul, shattering it like glass on a hardwood floor.
The sobering facts were becoming evident. “Don’t blame yourself. You can’t put that guilt on your shoulders.” They would say. They were wrong. I was to blame. It was my fault. I failed Allison. I failed to let my love for her shine, had I done so, things would have been different. There was no denying it. The very thing I hated Mr. Channing for was staring me in the face. Guilt constricted my heart, squeezing down unlike any pressure I had ever known.
A town hall meeting was scheduled for that evening to address the tragedy and the growing angst. It was a bad idea. The Puritans would come out in drones. Reverend Channing would certainly be speaking, not to offer words of comfort, but to stir passions amongst his followers.
I wasn't planning to attend, following my father's advice of staying out of the town's politics. The last thing I needed to see was a Puritan pep rally, but I felt I
owed it to Allison to be there. A sane presence amongst the madness. As I predicted the Puritans controlled 98% of the room. Reverend Channing walked to the podium in grand fashion, like a mighty about to address his subjects.
"My daughter was weak. Yes, it's true. It maybe upsetting for some to hear me speak those words, but I have come here tonight to do just that, speak words of truth. You see, the serpent has been spreading lies. He's a sly one. He tells us that we should all get along. That we should all work together to coexist. Allison bought into the lie. She was too weak to resist. She believed the lie and she paid with her life. She believed she was doing God's work by bringing our two groups together, mingling with Outsiders, trying to make friends with them. Looking in you can see where she had good intentions, that her heart was in the right place. Well my friends, that's where the devil hides. He tricks us into believing we are doing the right thing only to come against us and turn the tables. What happened to Allison could happen to anyone in this room. She allowed the thief to come and steal her light. Tonight it ends! No more do we allow the devil to steal our light. Tonight we make a stand. Tonight we cast the devil out. Tonight we drive him back to hell!" Raucous cheers spilled out into the streets along with every Puritan in city hall. The mob surrounded Fritz Magical Emporium which was only a block away.
Something compelled me forward, screaming at me to speak out against the insanity. An inner righteousness that could not be tamed. My heart pounded as I fought my way to the front of the mob and into the entryway of the Fritz's shop. The crowd stared at me. I looked into eyes of fierce hateful rage.
"What are you doin' boy. Get outta the way!" A shout arose from the crowd.
I searched my mind frantically for something to say, some way to put out the fire. My shoulders felt like they were being squeezed in a vice grip and my jaw wired shut with iron clamps.
"Someone grab him. Get him out."
"Wait. You can't do this." I said as two men wrestled me to the ground."
"Not very convincing Stark." Reverend Channing stood over me. "Always knew you were weak. That's why I forbade Allison when she asked my permission to date you."
Reverend Channing pointed to the emporium.
"You are no longer welcome in Millersville! The town is ours, get out!" Reverend Channing shouted with fists raised in the air. "Burn it. Burn it to the ground."
***
The town was in turmoil consumed with chaos the following day. The Puritan followers lined the streets with picket signs, marching in front of every Outsider owned shop on main street. The police showed up in full riot gear but it was just for show. The chief of police gave a sermon just last Sunday, you know where his loyalties lie. Time was running out for the Outsiders. They were simply out numbered. I didn't know which was worse. A town divided, or a town run by self-appointed righteousness. I needed a stabilizing force, I need Dr. Z.
“William, please, come in.”
“Hi Dr. Z. How are you doing?”
“I am well William, and you?”
“Good and bad,” I said.
“That’s a contradiction Will, but life is full of contradictions.” Dr. Z. smiled. “You are working through tremendously difficult experiences and emotions. This is never a cut and dry, black and white process. This is a good thing. It means you're healing. It takes great courage to confront the darkness.”
I was working towards healing, but at the same time spiraling out of control. This alone should send me into a tumultuous panic. “Yeah, I suppose it's good,” I said.
“William, you sound down about this. Is this not a good thing?”
“Yeah, it is. It’s just that I feel like I am not in control of my anger. I never saw it before, well, not like I can see it now. Just a split second thought of Allison’s father sends me into a rage. To be honest. It scares me.” Dr. Z. nodded as I spoke.
“William, this may sound strange but you have unfinished business. You must learn to let go of the blame you project onto Mr. Channing as well as yourself. It can be scary. It’s called forgiveness.”
"I don’t know if I can do it.” I said.
“You can’t just flick a switch. True forgiveness can be a long and painful process, but it will always lead to true healing. Live life with love and love will be returned to you,” Dr. Z said.
“It is so hard for me.”
“I would like to give you a challenge Will. Would you be open to that?”
“Sure." I was never one to back down when challenged.
“I would like you to find one way to bring hope to Mr. Channing."
“Really? Why?”
“Giving of yourself to others, relieving their suffering, and making yourself a beacon of hope are the keys to illumination,” he said. “You must have illumination to understand the power of forgiveness.”
“Illumination. How?”
“Most people think of illumination as having knowledge and insight. I want you to think of illumination in the literal sense of the word.”
"I am not sure I follow you Dr. Z.”
He looked at me with great compassion and authority. “Your light will shine in a dark and unholy land. The only way to ignite the fire is through love. Can you do that?”
I paused in a moment of contemplation. “I guess I could do that. Although, I have to be honest. You’re scaring me a little. What did you have in mind?”
“That's up to you to figure out Will. It doesn’t matter what you do. You have to ask yourself if this person is better off for having crossed your path in life."
"I was always pretty good at writing.” I said. “Perhaps I could write the Reverend a letter. Explain my feelings.”
Dr. Z. smiled. “I think that's a very good idea.”
“Maybe I could go down and talk to him in person.” My voice sounded elevated and hopeful.
“I would advise against that William.”
“What? Why?”
“Remember, this process is about you. I know it's difficult to see. You need to free yourself from him, and the negative images you hold on to. I think it would be too much too soon. Your emotions surrounding Allison’s death and her father are still very unstable. Remember, healing is a process. It takes time and great care to do it the right way. Give it some time. Start with the letter.” Dr. Z. said.
“Ok.” I nodded.
“I can sense your reluctance.” Dr. Z. said.
“I’m just anxious to get on with it. I just want to feel better so badly. I feel anxiety just thinking about writing the letter."
“Healthy anxiety is meant to motivate you. Use it Will. Faith is the key to overcoming your reluctance. Without faith we are nothing. Faith is strengthened and developed through experience. Through tribulation we learn to trust and are molded into the human beings we hope to become." A brilliant but faint white light, like the one by the generator, engulfed Dr. Z's body. Love and warmth embraced my soul.
"William. It's my turn to be honest with you. I'm sure you have questions about my involvement in the Resurrectionists, as well as your own involvement."
"Do you know Justin? The Gateway?" I asked.
"I know of them. They don't know of me."
"What do you know about the Resurrectionists?"
"We are an ancient order of pilgrims who have heard and and accepted the calling to help our fallen brothers and sisters. My own brother passed away several years ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Was he sick?"
"He was murdered." Dr. Z. paused before speaking. "William this thing about being a Resurrectionist, it isn't easy."
"I'm starting to see that."
"It also isn't necessary."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I was sent here to protect you."
"Sent by who?"
"One with more authority than I."
"So there's a Resurrectionist kingpin." I said.
"Something like that. My brother and I are on a mission. We've been on it a very long time."
"You said your brother died, that he was murdered."
"I've been in contact with him ever since he passed. There is no death. He guides me from the spirit realm. That's how I found you. He contacted your group for help with our mission."
"The man in the image on Corbin's computer, the voices that spoke to us. That was your brother?" I said.
"Yes. He also contacted you by direct visionary communication."
"The vision during halftime. He could have picked a more appropriate time." I said.
"Games aren't important. The mission is."
"Who was he? The disheveled man on the computer image and in the vision?"
"A Resurrectionist. Now you see my concern. He was like you. Almost identical." Dr. Z. said.
"Are you saying I'm not strong enough?"
"I'm saying you're not ready."
"Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot lately."
"Physician heal thyself. A wounded healer can do more damage than healing. We need to continue our work together. You've made more progress than you know. In time you can be a powerful Resurrectionist, but now is not that time. Now is a time for forgiveness."
***
The intense anger I held towards Reverend Channing had softened after talking with Dr. Z. His words reached my heart. I did have unfinished business. I needed to forgive Reverend Channing. The blame and anger I placed on him was a mirror reflection of what was going on inside of me. Forgiveness was the only path out of the darkness and pain within my soul. I went down to his street corner the next Sunday afternoon. I waited behind a building for him to finish his sermon. His words of hate for all sinners triggered strong emotions, but I held them at bay. I fought hard to stay in the moment, to stay hidden behind that building. I was going against the advice of Dr. Z., but I couldn’t wait. I needed peace to come to my soul. I needed it more than Dr. Z. could know. My will and resolve were strengthened by my love for Allison. I was determined to speak with her father. To tell him that I forgave him and no longer blamed him for Allison’s death.
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