Midnight Diner 3

by Edoardo Albert

  "It’s only my gall bladder. I might need to have it removed, but it’s no big deal either way. I’m fine."

  "No you’re not," Gary said. "While I was driving up here, all I could think about was how I thought I had more time. I always seem to make that mistake. But that next tick could very well be yours."

  "What are you talking about?" "I’m talking about your soul."

  "They’re not taking that out, Son. Just my gall bladder." "This is no time for jokes, Dad."

  "I see. So you want to talk about this? Fine. You know, as much as I don’t understand why you need an imaginary friend telling you how to live your life, I could at least see the value of it if that made you happy. But it doesn’t. You hardly smile anymore, and when you do, it seems more like an accident. You’ve never preached to me. Now that you’ve decided to, what do you have to offer me? A chance to be as miserable as you are? I always thought you went on this religious kick because of your Mom’s death, because you needed to believe she was floating on some cloud somewhere. But you can’t even find peace in that, can you?"

  "I was a Christian before she died. And she isn’t on some cloud." "I know, that’s just a metaphor."

  "That’s not what I meant." "Don’t," said Dad.

  "It’s true."

  "Why?" Dad asked. "Because she refused to jump through some arbitrary spiritual hoop? Don’t you see how ridiculous that is?"

  "She’s in Hell because I didn’t minister to her. I won’t let that happen again."

  "You listen to me. Your Mom was a good woman and she loved you very much. There’s nothing about her that deserves eternal punishment, and I don’t know how a loving God, or a loving son, could believe differently. Even if it were true, I’d rather be damned with her. If your Mom’s not good enough for God, then your God’s not good enough for me."

  "Dad!"

  "No, I’ve listened to all this I’m going to. I love you, Son, but I can’t look at you right now. I’m going to be fine, so there’s no reason for you to stay."

  "I’m not leaving," Gary said. "Go home, Son."

  "I can’t! I have a duty to God, to your soul."

  "Then you can take your duty and your God, and you can all go to Hell!" "Dad, no! You have to listen to me!"

  When the nurses couldn’t calm Gary down, they called security. The police said they wouldn’t arrest Gary, providing he left peacefully.

  For the second time in a week, Gary was escorted off hospital property.

  ~

  At first, Roger Harris thought a homeless man had wondered into the Pastor’s Study. The man knelt before the desk, praying.

  "Can I help you?" Roger asked.

  When the startled man looked up, Roger barely recognized him as Pastor Waid. His grimy clothes didn’t smell of liquor. Just filth and degradation.

  "You missed the deacons meeting," was all Roger could bring himself to say. Pastor Waid stood to his feet. "Meeting?"

  "Three weeks ago. Where have you been?"

  "Preaching. On any street corner I could find, to anyone who’d listen."

  "Everyone’s been looking for you. Your father’s worried. He’s been staying at your house." "Who’s been leading the services?"

  "I have, for now."

  Pastor Waid sneered. "I’m sure the congregation finds your sermons quite—unthreatening." "What happened to you?"

  "You should know. It was your doing. I should have seen you for the serpent you were the moment you told me to temper God’s message. From the very beginning, you’ve tried to destroy my ministry."

  "You left your ministry," Roger said.

  "I was driven out, because of my passion for souls." "Where was your passion for your congregation?"

  "Where was their passion for God?" "What is that ticking?" asked Roger.

  Pastor Waid opened his hand. It held a tarnished gold pocket watch. "Every tick of the clock is a soul going to Hell. Because of negligence, laziness, because of your precious desire to get along. But I won’t let that happen. I preach the Word, of God’s love, of Jesus’s sacrifice. And I won’t stop, even if I am the only one who will."

  "You are not the only one. And you’re not responsible for the entire world. Jesus bore the sins of men, but He never asked you to bear their guilt. You can’t save everyone."

  "So I should do nothing? I have to save as many as I can." "And how many souls have you saved?" Roger asked.

  The watch trembled in Pastor Waid’s hand. "I can’t make it stop," he said, on the verge of tears. "No matter how much I preach, no one will listen, and it keeps ticking. Hell is full of souls and it keeps ticking. I thought it was two or three times a second, but then I listened closer. Now I can hear the ticks between the ticks. And the ticks between those. And beneath it all, the screams. The screams of Hell."

  "Pastor, let us help you."

  "Help me? Since I’ve been here, this church has done nothing but try to get rid of me." "This church has done nothing but pray for you every single day since you left."

  "Then God heeds your prayers as much as mine," said Pastor Waid. "He’s forsaken me. I came here hoping to find Him again. Maybe I am crazy. There’s nothing here for me."

  "That’s not true. Everything you think you’ve lost, we can help you can find again. Why don’t you stay? I’ll come back, and we’ll get you cleaned up and something to eat."

  "Christian charity? Why? You hate me almost as much as I hate you." "Even if I did hate you, I’d still help you. It’s what Christians do, Pastor."

  Pastor Waid pulled the chair out from behind the desk and sat down. He stared at the pocket watch and said nothing.

  Roger left the Pastor’s Study and closed the door behind him. He needed to clear the chapel, then he’d have the choir director call 911 while he went back to keep an eye on Pastor Waid. He had to be quick. If Pastor Waid took off, Roger doubted anyone would ever see him again.

  Roger went into the chapel. The congregation had filtered in and taken their seats in the pews. Roger stood behind the pulpit. "Ladies and gentlemen, something’s come up. I’ll let you all know about it later, but we need to cancel the Sunday morning service for today."

  "Not before I’ve had my say."

  Pastor Waid came in through the side entrance. Roger met him at the bottom of the platform, but Pastor Waid pushed by him. He went up on the platform and stepped behind the pulpit.

  "I have one last sermon to deliver to you," said Pastor Waid. "You won’t need your Bibles. But then you never did."

  Roger tried to figure a way to get Pastor Waid off the platform, short of physically dragging him off, something he didn’t want the congregation to have to witness.

  "Imagine if God said to you, ‘I am taking away your salvation. You will all spend eternity in

  Hell.’

  "But that would never happen, you say. Oh, but how I wish it would. How I’ve prayed for that very thing, every single day, prayed God would take His mercy from you. But God won’t hear my prayers. We shall never receive the Hell we deserve.

  "I deserve it, too. I had the gift of salvation, and I hid it. I never told my mother because I was ashamed of what she would think of me. So God opened wide the mouth of Hell and swallowed her whole. Then He placed His judgment upon me. He said unto me, ‘You remained silent, and now your voice shall be lost in the wilderness. You let her go to Hell, and now you must watch as others follow her and you shall be powerless to stop them.’

  "God turned His back on me. I am nothing, a powerless preacher who can’t even move my own congregation to save their friends and neighbors from the fire.

  "How can you ignore those poor souls falling into Hell? Can’t you hear them screaming in the flames? Your friends, your family? I hear them all. I can’t stop hearing them! And the loudest screams in Hell come from my own mother! My mother is in Hell, and I hear her screaming! I—I hear…"

  Pastor Waid collapsed behind the pulpit. Roger ran over to him. "Pastor! Can you hear me? Someone call an ambulance!"
Pastor Waid sobbed, and Brother Roger held him."Pastor. It’s okay." When the paramedics arrived, they evacuated the church. Roger stayed behind to help them

  with Pastor Waid until they loaded him into the ambulance. He was catatonic, but his hand still clutched the pocket watch. "She’s screaming," he kept saying. "She’s screaming."

  ~

  As Roger opened the doors for Wednesday service, Sister McCaughey was standing outside. "Sister, what are you doing here? You should be home resting."

  "My place is at the church. Especially since God has blessed me with so much. I’m not in pain anymore. Even the doctors said it’s a miracle from God. I wanted to thank Preacher Waid for his prayers. Is he here?"

  "No, Sister," Roger said. "He hasn’t been at the church for some time."

  "Where is he?"

  "He’s in the hospital."

  "How terrible! Why didn’t you tell me?"

  "You’ve been so ill, and I didn’t want to worry you." "Have you seen him?"

  "Many times," Roger said. "This morning his father and I went to visit him. We prayed together. It’s a blessing that he can pray again."

  "When will he come back?"

  "I don’t know. But when he does, he won’t be our pastor anymore." "I don’t understand," said Sister McCaughey.

  "It’s complicated, Sister. There’s not a lot I can say about it, except that he’s better off serving the Lord in another way."

  "I should go see him."

  "I don’t think the hospital would allow it. He’s still very sick, and will be for a long time. His father and I are the only ones allowed to visit him right now. That reminds me." Roger took the gold watch from his pocket and handed it to Sister McCaughey. "This is yours, isn’t it? Gary was to give this back to you when you got out of the hospital."

  "But I never meant for Preacher to return it. Will you take it back to him for me?" Roger shook his head. "He doesn’t need it."

  "No, I’m sorry but you’re wrong," said Sister McCaughey. "I’m sure he needs it more than ever. That Preacher would even consider giving up the ministry is proof of that. What does he have to comfort him now?"

  "Comfort?"

  Sister McCaughey held up the watch. "When Papa made the Brimstone Timepiece, he thought the world had become another Sodom and Gomorrah. Thank the Lord he didn’t live to see the way things are now. Such a burden it is, to see the world awash in wickedness, to wonder if God has somehow abandoned us. Preacher seldom smiled, did you notice? I know why. He felt that same burden."

  Sister McCaughey twisted the watch stem between her fingers. It started ticking. The sound still made Roger cringe.

  Sister McCaughey smiled. "Every tick says, God is still on His throne and evil is punished.

  What a comfort that is to know, don’t you agree? I listen, and with every tick I say, amen."

  Monster Made

  Kevin Brown

  [Note: The following are transcribed entries from Evidence #021031B, an 8 ½ x 10 Mead

  Notebook found at the Samra Nytelli murder scene, October 12th 2009. Entries are dated June

  1st, 2007-October 12th 2009, and marked A-V.]

  A. When I 10 mother by marriage try to kill me. She push me down stair and I sleep two weeks very many days. I wake up in doctor and doctor and father and mother by marriage all say I fall down stair hurt head. Tell me accident and I say accident and everyone happy I not sleep more long. When I 10 mother by marriage try to push me down stair kill me but no and happy that I say accident. I no say I remember.

  B. I not always talk write this way. I sleep after hurt head wake up talk write this way. Doctor say fall down stair make me talk this way. Say brain like balloon too big for head. Tell me

  take speak lesson speak better. Speak teacher tell me write [indecipherable] take speak lesson everyday speak better. Even I talk this way thought is clear but doctor and father and mother by marriage not know this. If mother by marriage no know, not kill me, and if no kill me give me time kill her.

  C. I like watch monster movie very much. Favorite. The Frankenstein and a Wolfman. Favorite. I watch all day [indecipherable]. Mother by marriage call me monster. Say I speech like the Frankenstein. Say I freak like the Frankenstein. Say she wish freak still no wake up. I like the Frankenstein very much. He no talk right but have feeling inside and only want to kill people when hurt him. Him lonely and want friend but no. Me too. I like a Wolfman. He have monster secret, not want to kill but have to. Me too.

  D. Kill mother by marriage make father sad. Not want to make father sad. Love father. Love mother too but dead. Now mother by marriage. Father never home drive big truck much. Father never home, always mother by marriage. Mother by marriage drink drunk and never feed and slap hard, but no hurt no more. Anger. Mother by marriage bring home man not father. Go room. Anger. Each day go to speak lesson alone because no take. Cold and rain. Run to speak lesson, run home many miles. Love run. Speak teacher tell me TIME TAKE A TERRIBLE TOLL ON INTENSITY INTENTION. Say practice many. Tell me DON’ T DANCE DURING DINNER. Say practice many. Difficult. Practice many and easy. Learning better. Change.

  E. Birthday. 13. Father get baseball ball [indecipherable]. Love. BEST BIRTHDAY BASEBALL BALL AND BASEBALL BAT. Easy.

  F. Mummy on tonight the TV. Not like the Mummy so much like like the Frankenstein and a Wolfman. Not feelings inside so much. Like the Frankenstein feelings and talk, because he feelings and talk like me. Like a Wolfman feelings then change to killer like me. The Frankenstein and a Wolfman and me.

  G. Doctor is happy of progress. Says, "Learning so quickly." PRACTICE, PATIENCE, PERSISTENCE MAKE PERFECT. He never see someone work so hard so much. IM-PROVE-MENT, he say, and tell me to repeat. I say no and tell him, CHANGE-ING.

  H. Legs strong from running speech lessons every day. When mother by marriage asleep from drunk or from man I exercise arms with wash clothes bottle. Raise many times and stronger.

  I. I’m happy today so much. Hair grow on under arm and in pants like Wolfman.

  J. STARE AT SLEEPING STEPMOTHER WHILE STANDING IN THE STORM. Stepmother, now. Not mother by marriage. Sometimes I stare at stepmother while she drunk sleep. Stare and angry. She hit me more when drunk. Make me take shirt off and [indecipherable]. Have head pain and will not go away. Head pain and stare and angry at stepmother then exercise arms with laundry bottle. Raise it many times. Stronger.

  K. I watched a new Frankenstein with his wife and cry. Has wife who thinks he a monster and says, "Lonely." Thinks he a monster like me and I tell him on the TV do not be lonely. "I’m your friend," I say. I cry. Drunk stepmother sees and laughs and tells me I am a stupid little freak, I should have died in the basement. "Or at least be locked in it," she says, but I do not give attention care. I watch the favorite Frankenstein and cry with my friend.

  L. Miss my father. He comes home one time per week and leaves again. He reads me stories and I cry and tell him about the new Frankenstein and cry again. Wish he would hate the step- mother like me. He will not. Want to tell him stepmother drinking all day and with the other man all day and hit me more but do not. Want to tell him when she hit me and I am 12 I would cry but I am now 13 and do not. Only smile at stepmother. No more feeling of pain. Only anger and am stronger now, because I can run to speech therapy in 20 minutes and lift the laundry detergent 100 times. Getting strong with feelings inside and hair on my arms. Changing like the Wolfman. Becoming ready almost. Feeling strong in mind and body and speech and headaches are worse, like Frankenstein electricity in my brain bringing me alive.

  M. I can run to speech therapy in 15 minutes. I can lift the detergent bottle 200 times.

  N. When the stepmother hits me harder and I smile, she looks at me different. Like the women look at the Wolfman. I like when she hits me because the headaches go away. She calls me psycho, monster, freak. She spits alcohol in my face and I taste it on my lips and it is bitter and I hiss and BLOOD BOILS BENEATH THE BATTERED BODY, and I can run to speech therapy in 10 minutes and lift the
detergent any bottle 300 times.

  O. At speech therapy, I hug the doctor and tell him thank you. I need him no more. The change is nearly complete, but I still run there and back each day. Faster. Faster. Faster. I lift my father’s toolbox until I can no longer. So strong. I can snap necks. I can strangle beasts. I can tear bodies to bits.

  P. My father was home for two days this week. We played baseball and I hit the ball so hard. He says my speaking has gotten so much better. Then, he left.

  Q. KINDNESS CAN’ T KEEP KILLERS FROM KILLING, CAUSE KILLERS KILL FOR KICKS.

  R. I can run for miles and miles. I can lift the world. I can do anything. I cut myself to scar the same places as the Frankenstein monster. My voice is deep and growly like the Wolfman and there is hair all over my chest and arms and legs and face.

  S. I

  T. Am

  U. Ready.

  V. This is my final entry. I hope all who reads this will appreciate the power of will. I hope they see that sticks and drunken stepmothers cannot kill the spirit. Cannot halt the drive, drench the fire of determination. I hope my dad will not be sad, but will know I did this for us. And I will use his gift, my baseball bat, to do it. I am strong and fast and it will find its mark and find it well. I hear her now in the kitchen. She’s making a drink. I smell it seeping through her pores. I hear her vibrations sweeping across the follicles in my ears. I can already taste her hot bitter blood in the crevices of my tongue. But I will let her have her drink. I will let her have her man, then have her nap. I will give her this, because I have a heart, I have a soul. Because I have feelings.

  I am not a monster.

  [END OF RECORD]

  Beneath Its Weight

  Michael Dean Clark

  Ricky sat in the holding cell with his head down, sliding his hands over each other in continuous circular motions. The heel of his right foot slipped in and out of his de-laced shoe as it pumped up and down on the end of his leg. Otherwise, he sat still on the edge of the bunk along the beige wall farthest from the solid steel door, his eyes squeezed shut.