“I think the heat must’ve drawn up his temperature,” Walt said, feeling his friend’s forehead. “I don’t have time to explain it, but it’s almost two hundred degrees in that church right now. I think if we get him home and get a cold towel around his head he’ll feel better. He’s not going to like me very much if he wakes up in a hospital bed; probably already is mad with me for bringing him here. Can you follow me to his home and help me lift him into bed? We only live a few minutes down the road.”
I glanced back at the open church doors, wanting to journey inside. But I knew I had to help. We carried Buck over to Walt’s pick-up twenty yards away before realizing that wasn’t going to work. Buck clearly needed to lie down, and Walt refused to put him in the bed of his truck, for fear that he could slide around and hit his head.
“We could lie him down in the back of our car,” I suggested. “It’s got soft, cloth seats. If we’re following you over there we might as well put him in our car.”
Walt thought this over for a few seconds before agreeing. We carried Buck over to our rental car and gently laid him down in the back seat. Walt looked us over one last time before returning to lock the church doors and climbing into his truck. We pulled away from the church and got back onto the main drag of shops and restaurants in a matter of minutes. It was getting late but I didn’t notice. I wanted to help these two men as much as we could, however mostly I wanted to ask about the heat inside the church. I could tell Peter was deep in thought beside me, leaving little conversation between us.
Ten minutes later, we reached an abandoned area. Walt’s truck pulled in to a rocky driveway in front of a small cottage, much of it covered in ivy. When we climbed out of the car, I felt the salty air sticking to my skin and heard the ocean waters tumbling on the opposite side of the house.
“Sounds like Buck has some seaside property, here,” I said to Walt as he approached our car.
“Yep, we both do.”
I looked next door, noticing in the darkness another small home. “You guys are neighbors?”
“Have been for years. This one is Buck’s house; let’s get him into bed.”
Buck could walk a little on his own now, but Peter and I braced him by throwing his arms over our shoulders as we made our way up his gravel sidewalk. He would speak occasionally, however his mind was still cloudy. For a moment it sounded as though he was attempting to apologize in advance for his cluttered home.
The four of us entered his small home, filled quaintly with aged furniture, framed pictures adorning the walls, and a messy kitchen that showed Buck was a single man. In the one and only bedroom, we laid Buck on his mattress as Walt went and got some ice and a wet wash cloth. The three of us sat quietly in the bedroom, making sure he drifted off into a sleep that would help him recuperate. When we felt Buck was okay to leave by himself, we exited the room. Walt offered to get us some water and left for the kitchen.
I whispered to Peter while we were alone. “We need to ask this guy some questions, don’t you think?”
Peter didn’t reply, and a moment later Walt had returned with our water, inviting us to sit down in Buck’s den. When we took our places on the couch, a dusty odor rose up from the green cushions. It wasn’t a bad smell, but rather a peculiar one that reminded me of the distinct scent of my grandfather’s house.
“I reckon you boys were lookin’ for Father Harris tonight?” Walt asked as he sat down across from us.
“If that’s your parish priest, then yes, we were,” I answered. “But I was hoping we could ask you some questions first, now that we’re here.”
“All right.”
“You said it was almost two hundred degrees in your church.”
“That’s right.”
“Was the heat coming from a strange source?”
Walt’s dumbfounded expression and slow nod said more than words.
“A statue?” I asked.
He nodded again, his eyes as wide as clams.
I explained what we had been through in the last few days, or at least as much as I could without overstepping our orders to keep things under wraps. I told him about the church in Rhode Island and the statue there, but didn’t reveal anything about Donald. Walt was kind enough to answer all our questions despite being overwhelmed. He laid out the time frame for when the statue in Edisto began to give off heat, and tried to describe what he had seen and felt over the last weeks. Peter remained silent throughout my explanation as he stared at Walt with vacant eyes.
Before long, Walt had brought up the most important matter surrounding these two statues.
“I don’t suppose you boys know why the statues are becoming so hot?”
“No,” I said. “I was hoping we could find out when we found this second statue.”
As I voiced my admission, Peter blinked and seemed to regain a sense of reality. He focused on Walt. The elderly man must have felt the stare. Walt turned and looked at Peter, their eyes locking for a moment. Something came into Peter’s face, but disappeared just as soon as it had come.
Walt turned back to me. “Well, no matter what the reason is, this has to be some kind of strange miracle.”
I saw Peter shaking his head out of the corner of my eye. Walt had apparently noticed it too. “You don’t think so?” he asked.
“Let me ask you something,” Peter said leaning forward. “Are the people of your parish frightened by this?”
“Yeah, most were a little scared, especially the women. One lady figured it was a sign of the apocalypse.”
“And you said your priest has locked the doors until further notice?”
“He did.”
“Then tell me how any part of this is a miracle?”
“Peter,” I interjected, “please don’t start this right now.”
“What do you mean?” Walt asked, ignoring me and focusing on Peter.
“I don’t see how this is some miraculous sign when people are scared half to death, and the doors of churches are being locked. It’s a pretty strange god who runs people out of churches, don’t you think? What if this starts happening all over the world?”
“I guess you’re entitled to your opinion, but that seems a strange thing to hear from a priest.”
“Well, your sense of order for the world will be restored shortly when I leave the priesthood.”
“You’re leaving the priesthood?” Walt asked.
Peter didn’t respond.
“Why? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Peter mashed his lips together and refused to explain. I spoke up. “Peter’s had a rough go of it lately. He’s not leaving for sure. He’s just taking—”
“Don’t you dare speak for me, Paul.”
“Peter,” I pleaded, “I know this situation is scaring and frustrating you; it scares me too. But why are you so adamant in finding the negative aspects of this? I feel like anything could happen at this point and you wouldn’t even consider what message God could be trying to send through these statues.”
“There’s no message here. This is only about confusing and scaring people. God could be using his time in a lot better ways than this.”
“You act as if God is the one who’s let you down with his behavior,” Walt interjected, “instead of the other way around.”
Peter scowled. “You don’t know me, sir. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
I tried to move the conversation back to the statues and away from Peter.
“I’m sorry, Walt. Peter obviously has some things going on that don’t involve you. He doesn’t mean these things, but maybe for now we should—”
“Why don’t you come outside with me,” Walt said, staring straight at Peter and interrupting me.
“Why?” Peter asked.
“Please come out on the porch.” Walt stood up and held out his hand toward the door.
I watched, baffled, as the two men stepped outside and left me alone. I was tempted to eavesdrop, but thought it better not to. Walt must have
had some reason for wanting to speak with Peter in private, and I wanted to respect that.
23
I WASN’T sure how long it took me to regain my wits after passing out, but I vaguely remembered trying to lift my eyelids and not being able to. I heard unfamiliar voices and figured I might have been in an ambulance. But when I finally did pry my eyes open, I discovered I was in someone’s car, a sedan, lying down in the back with my legs scrunched up against the side door. My blurred vision was making me nauseous, so I drifted off again into a sea of darkness.
I eventually awoke to the rickety squeak of my bed frame and the cotton feel of my blanket. As I sat up off the mattress, a damp wash cloth fell from my forehead to the covers. I rubbed my eyes and gazed around my room, then peered out the window to see it was still dark out.
I heard movement coming from outside my bedroom. “Walt?” My voice sounded like it was rolling off a brillo pad as it left my throat. “That you?”
Footsteps approached the doorway. A figure moved forward.
“Hello. It’s Mr. Washington, right?”
I blinked several times, trying to determine who this man was. He stood before me in a black outfit from head to toe, except for the white collar around his neck. His face was youthful, probably about thirty-five if I took aim at guessing, and his short hair was combed perfectly to the side.
“Am I about to die?”
The man laughed and pulled up a seat by my bedside. “No, I think you’ll live. Please, lay back down. Do you feel okay?”
I followed his advice, returning my head slowly to the pillows. He picked up the wash cloth and placed it on my forehead.
“I suppose I’m okay,” I finally answered him. “Other than the fact it feels like someone took a sledge hammer to my head. Now, who are you? And where’s Walt? And how’d I get back here in my bed?”
“Let’s do one at a time, Mr. Washington.”
“Buck,” I corrected him.
“Okay, Buck. I’m Father Paul, but you can just call me Paul if you like. We were in the parking lot when Walt dragged you out of the church. You were in such bad condition that we had to help get you home. Walt is actually outside right now, speaking with my friend, Father Peter.”
I eyed him suspiciously, wondering if everything he had said was the truth. But he was a priest; how could I not trust him?
“Was that your car I was in?”
“It was,” he answered. “Or, it’s my rental. We’re from out of town. We considered taking you to the hospital, but you were answering our questions correctly and you seemed to be all right.”
“You said I answered your questions?”
“Yes, like, ‘how many fingers am I holding up?’ Things like that.”
I laughed. “Boy, I don’t recall that one bit. So you’re from out of town?”
“Yes, we’re from up north, just outside of Boston. We just got into Edisto tonight.”
“Well, I may not know much about the travels and schedules of priests, but what were you guys doing outside that church so late? Walt told me no one would be there.”
Paul leaned back in his chair. “That’s kind of a long story. But let’s just say I know why you passed out.”
I thought back to when I stood inside the church. “You know about the statue?”
He nodded.
“How? I thought you said you just got into town tonight? I thought Walt said his parish hadn’t told anyone about the statue yet?” I didn’t give Father Paul a chance to answer before I realized I was curious about something else. “What’s he talking about with your friend?”
“Buck, I know you may not believe this, but I have no idea what they’re talking about out there. In a way, I’m as confused as you are about this whole thing.”
The slam of my screen door stopped him from going any further.
“That must be Walt and Peter.” Paul stood up and left the room. I heard the low rumble of them speaking in my den, but couldn’t make out what they were discussing. A few minutes later they all returned to my bedroom.
I was relieved when I saw Walt.
“Hey there, buddy,” he said as he knelt down by my bed and grabbed my hand. “How you feelin’?”
“I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry I made you go inside the church. I shouldn’t have done that. It was dangerous. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something more serious had happened.”
“It’s okay, Walt. I’m fine, really, I am. You had no way of knowing my feeble, old body would keel over like that.”
He laughed but I could tell he felt guilty. “I assume you met Paul, here, and this is Peter.”
The man named Peter came over and shook my hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, his voice lacking any effort. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I gripped his hand and stared into his eyes. They seemed familiar. “Have we met before?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t see how we ever could have.”
“I suppose you’re right. But where’d you grow up, out of curiosity? Maybe I know someone in your family. You got the look of someone I might’ve known.”
“I don’t see how that’s relevant, Mr. Washington. Paul,” he said, turning his focus to the other side of the room, “I think it’s time we get to our motel.”
“Sorry if I offended you,” I said, surprised by his sudden curtness, “but can someone tell me what’s going on before y’all leave. I’d like to hear about the part of the evening I missed.”
Paul approached the bed and extended his hand. “I’d like to, but Peter’s right, it’s late and we have to get up early in the morning. Maybe Walt can fill you in on everything.”
I shook his hand and said goodbye to the two priests. They walked out of my bedroom and left me to my rest. I heard Walt thank them for helping take care of me, and I heard them thank Walt for the information he had provided. A few minutes later their car had pulled out of the driveway. Walt came back to my doorway, his body covered in shadows cast by the light from my den. “It’s been one helluva’ night, hasn’t it, pal?”
“Any chance you filling me in on the half I missed?”
“Sure, that is, if you don’t think you need to get your rest.”
“I’m fine, but it’d be nice if I could get some food in me.”
“I think I can handle that.”
Walt helped me into the den where I sat down at my table. He made us both a fried bologna sandwich and got me a Coke to awaken my senses. We exchanged small talk about how I was feeling and what we thought had happened to me. I made it clear I was okay and that I was through talking about it. Walt should have known better than anyone that old men don’t enjoy discussing their health. We always felt fine, so no reason to ask.
“All right,” I said as I bit down into my sandwich, “what in the world happened tonight? I’m a little curious about what those priests were doin’ outside your church at such a late hour, especially since you said no one would be there.”
“It’ll be hard for you to believe me after what I just heard.”
“After what I saw tonight, I’ll believe anything.”
Walt took a sip of water to wash down his food and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Well,” he began, “when you fainted, I thought you’d up and died on me. I didn’t know what to do at first, but then I realized I needed to get you out of that heat, so I dragged you out of the church as fast I could. When I got us outside, I just about fell over at the sight of those two men standing there.”
“Did you figure out what they were doing in the parking lot?”
“I’m getting there.”
I took another bite of my sandwich so I wouldn’t interrupt him.
“Since I was more concerned about you at the time, I didn’t ask what they were doing there. But I was sure glad to see them. They checked your pulse and got you some water, and it seemed you’d only fainted. We talked about taking you to the hospital but I felt you’d be all righ
t, so I got them to help carry you and asked that they follow me back here to get you into bed. I agreed to put you in their car so you could lie down in their soft, back seat, rather than the bed of my truck.”
“I was wondering how I ended up in their car.”
“Well, they seemed trustworthy, and they’d been real helpful up until that point. Anyway, they followed me back over here and we put you in bed. We gave you some medicine for your fever and laid a cold wash cloth on your head. Then we went into your den so you could sleep, and Buck, I couldn’t even fathom what they told me they were doing in Edisto.” I had a mouth full of food, but forgot to keep chewing it as I waited for Walt to finish. “It turns out these two priests were coming down to South Carolina on a very specific mission. They were in search of a heated statue, Buck, a heated statue of Mary.”
“A heated statue? You can’t be serious.”
“I know. I still can’t believe it. But it gets even stranger. They were in Rhode Island this past week investigating another statue of Mary that had begun giving off heat, just like the one in my church. I knew it was the statue causing the heat. Didn’t I tell you?”
“Did they know why the statues were doing this?”
“Don’t think so. They seem just as baffled as us.”
“What else did they tell you?”
“They couldn’t reveal much because they were under orders from their superiors, but they said the statue in Rhode Island started heating up a couple weeks back, about the same time as the statue here. As we compared stories, it sounded like the statue up there was a little hotter than our statue here, but I suppose it’ll take more time studying them to figure that out. Either way we both guessed it was over two-hundred degrees inside the churches.”
I set down my sandwich, staring blankly ahead. “It’s a wonder something like this would happen in Edisto. It’s such a simple, small town. And no offense, but that church of yours is tiny. Wouldn’t you think this would happen at some grand cathedral?”
Walt responded after a short pause. “Jesus was born in a stable, Buck, not a palace.”
I nodded and moved on. “I don’t see how they knew to leave Rhode Island and come here.”
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