by Shaw, J. D.
He spun around to face her again. “I’m saving souls the best way I know how.”
“That’s where you are wrong.” She corrected him. “You aren’t doing things the best way at all.”
“What are you talking about?”
Eunice took a deep breath. “I know that you plant people in the audience and have your tech workers use listening devices to eavesdrop on audience member conversations before the show while pretending to test the equipment. Just before you go on stage, you get all that juicy info handed to you to use however you see fit.”
“I do what I have to.” Seamus echoed Eunice’s words. “In today’s age, you have to wow them with something or they’ll leave.”
“Yes you do and I’m not faulting you for it.”
“Then why am I here today?” He asked.
“Because some of the richest coffers in Cayuga Cove are members of Our Lady of the Lake’s congregation.” Eunice smiled. “Father William conducts a Saturday mass at four o’clock. If you can convince him to urge members of his congregation to support your ministry tonight, you could pack that tent to capacity.”
“He’s not going to do that.” Seamus argued. “Not after what I did during the meeting at the library the other night.” He kicked at some of the stones on the shore. “Which, may I remind you, was your idea in the first place.”
“You need to strike a bargain with him.” Eunice replied. “Tell him that if he agrees to throw his support behind your event, that you will agree not to picket the Saint Patrick’s Day carnival.”
“But, what will I tell my congregation about the sudden change of heart?”
Eunice paused for a moment. “You tell them exactly what you agreed to. That you, personally, will not picket the event. But, if they wish to stand up for what is right, you will not stand in their way.”
“What kind of protest is it without a leader?”
“It’s a test of faith.” Eunice nodded back.
“Oh, that’s good.” Seamus answered. “I tell them that I’ve been given a challenge to find a spiritual leader here in Cayuga Cove. Someone who is strong enough to carry on with the mission when my tenure at Shoreline Baptist comes to a close.”
“Well done.” Eunice patted him on the shoulder. “Now you’re getting it.”
“I’ll work it into part of the program tonight. Put the word out that spiritual warriors are not born. They are forged by the fires of spiritual warfare against evil.”
“I’ll go a step further to ensure that they are dazzled by your miracles tonight.” Eunice offered. “I’m going to be backstage and when I see people I know in the audience, I will share personal information with your crew that they could never pick up just listening beforehand. Give them all the extra personal details that only a local would be privy to.”
“Trust me on this.” Eunice finished. “I know what you have wanted for years, the chance to bring your ministry to millions as a televangelist. Building an empire that people will flock to. Having your finger on the spiritual pulse of the nation, maybe even having the President of the United States turn to you for moral guidance? It’s all within your grasp, little brother.”
“That’s my destiny.” Seamus replied. “I have prayed and prayed for the money to make that happen, but I’m barely making enough to get by.”
“Did you ever stop to think that the accident that brought you back to me wasn’t just an accident?” Eunice asked. “That perhaps it was God’s way of putting you on the path to becoming a televangelist?”
“Do you really think so?”
Eunice looked up at clouds. “I’ve never doubted that. But if you have any doubts, that’s an obstacle that you are putting up, not God.”
“Everything in my life has been leading up to this moment.”
“Some of the most fervent church members in Cayuga Cove are the most morally bankrupt sinners you’ll ever run into.” Eunice offered. “Why not use the money earned from their wicked ways to lay the foundation for your future?”
“You just gave me the title of tonight’s sermon, sister.” Seamus snapped his fingers. “Cayuga Cove: Historically rich but morally bankrupt.”
“Sounds like a winner.” Eunice folded her arms across her chest and shivered. “I’m going to go home and grab some hot tea. You go in there and convince Father William to participate.”
“What would I do without you, dear sister?” He asked.
Eunice gave him a little kiss on the cheek and smiled. “Probably be standing in line at a soup kitchen, rather than working at one.” She hurried away.
Vivienne felt a sense of dread building within her as Seamus turned toward Our Lady of the Lake and walked toward the back entrance. Was she going to witness an altercation between the two men that ultimately ended with one of them drowned in the baptismal pool?
As Seamus walked up the steps to the back entrance, the door suddenly opened and the familiar figure of Father William stepped outside with a bucket of dirty water in his right hand. “Pastor Kilpatrick, what are you doing here?”
“Hello Father William.” Seamus answered as he climbed to the landing where Father William stood in place. “I want to apologize in person for what happened the other night in the library.”
Father William dumped the filthy water over the side railing. “Well, we all can get a little overzealous in our beliefs from time to time.” He chuckled. “There was no harm done.”
“That’s nice of you to say.” Seamus answered. “Actually, I wanted to do more than apologize. Do you have a moment to talk?”
“If you don’t mind picking up a rag and helping to polish up the woodwork around the altar as we do it.” Father William replied. “Mother Superior and the other nuns are busy putting up preserves in the basement, so I thought I’d use some free time to give the sanctuary a good cleaning.”
“I’ve never been afraid of getting my hands dirty.”
Father William walked him into the sanctuary area where the step ladder was folded up and leaning against the church organ. “I always have said there is nothing like honest work to keep the soul happy.” He handed him a rag and an aerosol can of lemon-scented wood polish. “Would you please start with the railings around the edge of the altar?”
“Sure.” Seamus sprayed a film of the polish on the top of the dark walnut railing and began to wipe it away with the rag. “I was wondering if you and I could collaborate on something for the spiritual good of the town.”
Father William moved to the ladder and picked it up. He waddled over near the baptismal pool and opened the legs. “I’m listening.” He looked up at the wooden panels on the ceiling. “Would you just look at those cobwebs up there? I think they multiply the more you sweep them away.”
“Honest work, at least for spiders I suppose.” Seamus chuckled.
“Yes, all creatures great and small are part of His creation.” Father William grabbed a nearby broom and wrapped one of the dust rags around the end. “But I must confess that spiders are my least favorite.”
Seamus worked on the wooden spindles below the rail, wiping them down with the furniture polish “But they do so much good for man, trapping nuisance insects in their webs.”
With his makeshift duster in hand, Father William climbed the ladder carefully. “I have no problem with them when they obey my rule to stay out in the gardens.” Upon reaching the second from the last step, he reached the broom upwards and began to sweep away the webbing. “They are free to spin as many webs as they desire outdoors.”
“Speaking of webs, I think that if we combined our congregations for an event, we could capture some evil that floats around this town.” Seamus carefully cleaned some dust bunnies that had gathered in the corners along the bottom of the railing.
Father William looked down at him from the top of the ladder. “For the upcoming carnival?”
“No.” Seamus sprayed another set of spindles. “I’m hosting an old-fashioned tent revival at my church this evening. It’s
going to be a wonderful night of praise and worship.”
“I see.” Father William reached the broom over to the right and swept some more webs away from the ceiling. “How can I help you?”
“Even though we have different styles of worshipping, we both are working for the same boss, so to speak.” Seamus slowly worked the rag over the spindle posts. “I think that when you and I allow our differences to split the town, the only one that wins in the end is Satan.”
“I can’t argue with you there.” Father William climbed to the second to last step on the ladder where a warning sticker cautioned not to proceed any further upward. He extended his reach as far as he could to snag a particularly dusty web that fluttered near a ventilation duct.
“I think that the best way to combat evil is to join forces as a unified brotherhood.” Seamus looked up at Father William. “What I’m suggesting is that we help our congregations to see that by working together on a project.”
Father William nodded eagerly. “I couldn’t agree more with you. What do you suggest?”
“Well, I think we should each support the others events this month as a show of good faith.” Seamus set his rag down on the railing for a moment. “I’ll throw my support behind your Saint Patrick’s Day carnival and you could encourage your congregation to attend our tent revival this evening.”
“You’re willing to do that?” Father William scanned the ceiling for more cobwebs to brush away.
“Yes I am.” Seamus straightened his posture. “Will you join with me?”
Father William climbed back down the ladder and rested his broom between the steps. “I would like very much to do that, but I’m a little concerned about your promise.”
“Concerned?”
“Yes.” Father William folded his hands together. “You mentioned that you would support the carnival, yet the church you serve expressly forbids some of the activities that take place on that day. How can you ask your congregation to overlook that?”
“Those are old rules.” Seamus replied. “We must learn to adapt to a changing world in order to survive. The devil does this quite easily, which is why he is able to get a foothold so quickly in today’s society.”
“We do need to adapt.” Father William eyed him cautiously. “But, I don’t know that you can expect change so fast without losing some of your flock in the process.”
“If there are some stubborn minds, then I think we are better off to cut them loose and let them find a more suitable environment in which to worship.” Seamus politely argued. “That is the most logical thing to do.”
“But your job is to keep your flock together.” Father William stood beside the baptismal pool. “Forgive me for being blunt, but I can’t help but question this sudden change of heart.”
“You misunderstand me, Father William.” Seamus raised his hands in the air. “The only agenda I have is to protect Cayuga Cove from the evil forces that are surrounding it.”
“Tell me, Pastor Kilpatrick, why did you leave the church?”
Seamus lowered his hands. “God led me to a different path, one that the Catholic faith was unable to support.”
“I had a most interesting conversation with Bishop Palmer the other day.” Father William reached up and scratched his chin. “He had heard about the incident at the library and was most interested when your name came up.”
“You must have coaxed a good story out of him.”
“It was interesting, to say the least.” Father William replied calmly.
“I’m sure it was.” Seamus shrugged his shoulders. “Of course, the problem with hearing the story from a secondary source is that everyone puts their own spin on the events, even Bishops.”
“I won’t argue with that.” Father William conceded. “But, after hearing about what happened at Saint Mary’s under your leadership, I cannot in good conscience combine our congregations together, even for a special event.”
Seamus laughed. “I should have known better than to come to you. You can’t see beyond that narrow little path that the Bishop has laid out for you to follow blindly.”
“And you shouldn’t use your position within another church to fuel your personal ambitions.” Father William challenged. “So, I guess that leaves us divided for the time being.”
Seamus nodded back. “For the moment.” He raised a finger at Father William. “But, let me assure you that the division is not equal. You might have the lion’s share of congregation here in town, but that’s not going to always be the case. My church is growing by leaps and bounds. We are bringing more and more of the faithful into our fold and given enough time, you might be sweeping a lot more cobwebs from the rows and rows of empty pews inside this church as people abandon you.”
“I have faith that my congregation will stay right where it is.”
“I think I’m done cleaning up your mess here, Father.” Seamus set his rag down on the railing and stormed toward the back exit of the church. As he pushed the door open, a gust of wind fought to close it. He pushed harder and stepped out into the cold morning sunlight that forced him to squint from spending his time inside the dark sanctuary.
Vivienne frantically used all her will power to make him look toward the garden area. For a moment, she broke his control and his head turned toward the area she wanted to view. The air was permeated with the smell of fruit preserves wafting out of the basement kitchen vent, as the nuns remained blissfully unaware of what had just transpired above their heads in the sanctuary.
“Good morning, Carl.” Mother Superior’s voice echoed from the garden area. “The winter sure hasn’t been kind to the plants and shrubs, has it?”
“Not at all, Mother Superior.” Carl Hillman’s voice answered back. “I need to fix some of the plant covers today. The weatherman said we could be looking at a series of snowstorms coming this way next week. Possibly a blizzard.”
“Good heavens, I hope he’s wrong about that.” Mother Superior replied. “When you get a chance, could you tighten the pipe fittings on the kitchen sink again? Father William found a small puddle when he opened the cabinets to get some cleaning supplies.”
“I’ll take a look in just a bit.”
“Thank you, Carl.”
Seamus walked quickly along the shoreline, muttering to himself with frustration. He stared at the rocks below his feet, kicking some of the larger ones into the water. When he glanced upwards, for a brief moment, Vivienne could make out a solitary figure walking toward him from the opposite direction. Clothed in navy blue hooded sweatshirt that was pulled up over its head, the figure came closer to Seamus and bumped into him. “Watch where you’re going.” Seamus grumbled, barely looking up.
“I’m sorry.” The figure replied in a deep voice. “Oh, it’s you, Pastor Kilpatrick.”
The vision became blurry, as if Seamus’ body was shaking or shivering uncontrollably. For a brief moment, Vivienne thought she saw Pastor Kilpatick swing a fist and strike the figure to the ground.
The memory link between Vivienne and Seamus came to an abrupt halt. She felt dizzy as she left his body and the vista of Cayuga Lake swirled away into the darkness. A moment later, she awoke on the floor of the tent with Seamus standing over her.
“Are you hurt?” He asked her.
“No. Vivienne answered. “I just lost my balance.”
He helped her sit up as Joshua and Kathy appeared at her side. “You really took a tumble.” Kathy informed her.
Joshua helped her to her feet. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine, really.” Vivienne, now fully recovered from the disorienting effect of her power, felt a wave of disappointment that she had lost her control over his memory just as she was getting some important information. Based on what she had seen, she could place Seamus at Our Lady of the Lake shortly before the murder, but not present when it occurred. She needed to get back home and start creating a timeline of what she had seen to better figure out who was where and at what time. What bother
ed her the most, was not getting a better look at the hooded sweatshirt figure that had been making its way toward the church that morning. Could he have been the one responsible? She had a sinking feeling that everything was connected, but this time her special power wasn’t going to be quite enough to put all the pieces together.
“She has let the holy light into her heart and it his driven away the fear.” Seamus spoke to the crowd. “Can I get an Amen?”
The assembled crowd shouted back with several shouts of praise in response.
Joshua and Kathy each took an arm and ushered Vivienne down the center aisle as the chorus began to clap and started singing a lively gospel tune. The sides of the tent fluttered and groaned as a strong gust of wind whipped off the lake.
“He works in mysterious ways and we are all witness to that tonight.” Seamus hurried up to the stage to continue his message to the assembled crowd.
As they walked down the aisle, Kathy suddenly came to a halt and pointed to the back row where their seats had been. “Vivienne, is that the guy we’re looking for?”
Vivienne glanced at the area where Kathy was pointing. The tall stranger had come after all. He was mostly shrouded in darkness, but she could make out some facial features as the lights from the stage brightened and there was no doubt left in her mind. That was the man. “That’s him.” She shouted above the song the choir was belting out with vigor.
“Where?” Joshua frantically scanned the audience. “Where is he?”
Kathy pointed again, this time getting the attention of the tall man in the back row. “He’s right by our seats.”
“I see him.” Joshua squinted. “I don’t believe it.”
“What’s wrong?” Vivienne asked.
Before he could answer, there was a groaning sound that started low and then quickly raised in pitch as the wind roared outside. The tall man looked up in surprise and sprinted outside. Vivienne, Kathy, and Joshua gave chase and as soon as they reached the back row where he had been standing, the sound changed to an ear-splitting shriek.