by Joan Boswell
Lex took a deep breath, stood in front of Billy, and looked down at him. “My son, what do you want of the Lord?” he asked in a voice dripping with pity. The crowd fell silent.
“If only He would see fit to heal me, poor sinner that I am,” Billy said in a clear, childlike voice.
It was Charlene’s cue. Lex held his breath.
“My poor son,” she cried, with just the right note of motherly concern in her voice. “Crippled since birth and a sweeter soul there never was. Not a mean bone in his poor, crippled body. And he loves the Lord and all of His creation. Yes, he does. Why, I’ve known him to pray for the little sparrow fallen from its nest, and it would rise up and fly away, healed.”
The crowd let out a collective sigh.
Lex drew himself up to his full six foot two inches and threw back his head, well aware that his mane of white hair caught the carefully positioned spotlight so that he seemed to have a glowing halo about his head. He raised his arms and fixed his eyes upon the crowd.
“Do you believe that God loves this little child?” he asked them.
“Yes!”
“Do you believe that God can heal this little sparrow?” he continued.
“Yes!”
“Do you believe that God will make his poor body whole again?” he shouted.
“Yes!”
“Do you believe that God will heal him tonight? If you do, say Amen!”
The crowd was on its feet. He could hear their cries and sobs mingling with the shouts, and on cue, Gloria hit the first bass note on the organ and launched into “Amazing Grace”. The crowd sang along, and as the noise and confusion hit a fever pitch, Lex leaned forward, laid his hands on Billy’s blonde curls, noting as he did so that it was time for Charlene to get out the Clairol bottle again, and shouted, “Be healed!”
Billy threw his crutch up into the air, narrowly missing Joe, and leapt up onto the platform. “I can walk! I can walk!” he screamed, capering up and down several times. “Oh, thank you, God! I can walk!”
“It’s a miracle,” screamed Charlene, also leaping up onto the platform. Lex drew back, keeping a wary eye on her. But Charlene had switched fully into her doting mother role. Ignoring Lex, she swept Billy into her arms and turned to the crowd, her eyes streaming.
“My little son! My precious sparrow! He is healed. It’s a miracle!”
“It’s a miracle!” the crowd roared back.
“It’s a miracle!” Lex shouted, moving swiftly down the row in front of the platform, smacking forehead after forehead.
It never failed. In the religious fervour of the moment, down they went like ninepins, joining the ladies on the floor. Usually, one or two of the cripples might even take a few faltering steps before they, too, succumbed to the power of the Spirit. If any seemed to be taking a little longer than necessary to go down, Lex could count on Joe placing a discreet knee behind their legs to tip the balance.
Only the tall, gaunt man at the end of the row remained standing. As Lex reached out his hand, the man lifted his head and looked directly into Lex’s eyes. For a split second, Lex thought he was going to be sick as the acid in his gut churned its way into his throat in a burning rush.
The man’s eyes were black, depthless and deadly cold.
Lex drew a deep breath, pulled himself together and smacked the man’s forehead. “Heal!” he commanded.
The man’s skin felt cold and clammy to Lex’s touch, and a wave of revulsion shuddered through his body. The man remained standing, his cold eyes fixed on Lex. Mindlessly, Lex pulled back his hand. He could see the look of puzzlement on Joe’s face, but he ignored it and turned away from the man. He wasn’t touching that guy again—not for a million bucks.
Sucking in a deep breath, he tried to steady his nerves and get back into the flow. Even as he turned, Lex was still aware of the intense stare of those eyes, burning on the back of his neck.
Thank God he had Loretta to give him a few minutes to compose himself. A spotlight slowly brightened until she was standing revealed to the audience.
Lex paused for a moment to allow the crowd to savour the sight of Loretta, dressed in a flowing blue gown with a dazzling white shawl over her long dark hair. To any lapsed Catholics in the audience, and there were always a few, she looked like the embodiment of their very own Virgin Mary.
Virgin! Lex smiled inwardly as he remembered last night’s romp. The woman knew more positions than the Kama Sutra.
To his surprise, Loretta ignored the script and stood, gazing in absolute horror and fear at the tall man, now directly in front of her. She seemed unaware of Lex beside her. Lex swallowed hard against the rising knot of bile in his throat. Why couldn’t people just do what they were supposed to? She wasn’t even in the right position. She was going to break the mood if she wasn’t careful.
With a touch on her arm, Lex re-positioned Loretta under the spotlight with the yellow gel. It bathed her in a golden light, so that she looked as if she were glowing.
He heard the crowd draw in its breath. The symbolism was not lost on the non-Catholics, either.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Charlene sidling across the platform towards them. What the hell is going on? Why is she coming over here? He shot her a baleful glance, but she ignored it and continued her slow shuffle until she was standing in the shadows behind Loretta, outside the pool of light from the spotlight.
Slowly, Loretta raised her eyes. He saw her lick her lips tentatively. She seemed to be struggling with herself. The crowd fell silent.
Lex swallowed hard again. He was all too aware of Charlene standing behind them. Anything could go wrong now. The silence began to lengthen.
“Speak to us, my daughter,” Lex prompted her. “Give us the Words of Life tonight.”
“I have come . . .” Loretta began. Her voice seemed thin and strained. Lex saw her draw in a deep, ragged breath, straighten her shoulders and look defiantly at the tall man. “I have come with a message tonight,” she said in a clear, ringing voice that carried to the last rows in the auditorium.
“A prophecy.” “The Lord is speaking to us.” “A message from God.” Joe started the whispers that flowed through the crowd like a spring brook. Gloria pulled out the tremolo stop and the soft strains of “Lord Speak to Me” filled the air.
He found it hard to concentrate on the script with Charlene so close. Only a year ago, Charlene had been the Voice of Prophecy, but once Lex had seen the possibilities in Loretta, Charlene had been relegated to the role of the Crippled Boy’s Mother. At the same time, Loretta had also replaced Charlene in Lex’s bed. Lex knew that both decisions still rankled with Charlene.
He sighed inwardly. One day, he’d have to let Charlene go. He could see that writing on the wall. But, right now, he just hoped that no one in the crowd was aware of her.
Loretta slowly raised her arms so that the flowing sleeves of her tunic fell back like wings behind her and raised her face towards the roof of the auditorium. Six hundred or more souls fell silent in breathless anticipation. The only sounds were a few stifled sobs and the soft throb of the organ’s bass notes.
“Thus saith the Lord,” she began. “I have poured out my blessings on my people . . .”
“Amen! Hallelujah! Tell it, Sister. Yes, Lord! Praise God.” The soft incantations began to rise from the crowd.
“But my people have not heeded my word. They have sinned and sinned mightily . . .”
“Yes, Lord. Sinned, Lord . . .”
Loretta’s voice rose a notch. “Sinned! Sins of the flesh . . . fornication, adultery, unclean acts . . .” She seemed to hesitate for a moment, and Lex could see her eyes flick to the tall man in front of them. “Yes, sin . . .” she continued.
“Amen, Lord. Yes, God . . .”
Slowly, Loretta let her arms fall and then, with a swift movement, began to point to various people in the audience, raising first one arm and then the other. As she did so, it seemed to them that bolts of lightning shot out from be
tween her fingers, illuminating them and their dark sins. Lex smiled. The small narrow-beam high intensity flashlights sewn into the skin-toned surgical gloves she wore really did the trick. “I know you and I know your sins. I know what you do in the dark of the night. I know what evil thoughts linger in your mind . . .”
People screamed and cried as the light flashed on them. Gloria changed the musical accompaniment, dropping into the deep sonorous chords of the Death March, letting the sound echo and reverberate around the room, until every person felt the noise and thunder pounding in his brain.
“I know you and your secret sins. I know what you lust after . . .” Loretta suddenly whirled and pointed at the man in front of her. “I know your hatreds and your false pieties . . .”
An expression of exultation lit up the man’s face, and he looked, not at Loretta, but beyond her into the shadows at the back of the stage. He spread out his arms and jerked spasmodically, then seemed to fold in on himself until he was just another crumpled heap on the floor in front of the platform. Joe stepped forward, straightened his legs out and folded his arms across his chest.
Lex was impressed. He hadn’t thought Loretta had that kind of power. His mind played with the idea of having Loretta do this as part of the act. While not as dramatic as his own laying on of hands, it was pretty effective. He wondered if she could do it again, or if this was just some kind of lucky fluke.
“But I, the Lord your God, forgive you, each and every one of you. I know you are tempted by Satan.”
Again, the enthusiasm of the crowd began to rise, “Yes, tempted, Lord. Not our fault . . . Amen, Sister.”
“Thus saith the Lord . . .” Loretta let her arms fall to her sides. She bowed her head as if in absolute weariness and stood silent in the golden glow of the spotlight.
“Tell us, Sister,” the audience begged.
Lex stepped forward. “Sister,” he said. “If the Lord has a Word for all of these sinners, then speak it now.”
“Yes, speak it!” the crowd shouted.
Loretta raised her head, looked directly out over the watching eyes and held her hands out in a pleading gesture. “Thus saith the Lord. You have sinned by holding back that which belongs to me,” she said softly, her voice breaking slightly on the last words. “You have kept back that which I require of you. I have opened the windows of heaven and poured down gifts upon you, and you have used them to satisfy the needs of your flesh rather than the needs of your souls. For what profiteth it a man if he should gain the world, but lose his soul?”
Lex could see that quite a few people were nodding in agreement with her scriptural references. That’s what made Loretta so good . . . she knew her Bible inside and out. Not surprising, since she was the only child of a tight fundamentalist preacher in a small town on the Prairies. She’d told Lex of the endless hours spent memorizing bible verses, the punishment for any small infraction of her father’s rigid rules. No wonder she’d left home as soon as she turned eighteen. If Lex hadn’t found her in that truck-stop restaurant, she’d still be pouring coffee for ten-cent tips. Now, she was the Voice of Prophecy in the Salvation Revival, and she was damn good at it, too. Lex permitted himself a small smile. Bet her old man would have an apoplectic fit if he knew what his little girl was up to.
“Thus saith the Lord: bring me your harvest. Hold not back a penny, but be as the widow with her mite, and I, the Lord God Almighty, will pour down blessings until your cup runneth over with them!”
“Bring me your harvest!” Loretta’s voice was tearful and full of sorrow. “Bring me your harvest . . .” she whispered, then fell to her knees and began to pray.
Lex doubted there was even one hard heart that wouldn’t be moved at the sight of her beauty and obvious piety. He gave an imperceptible nod to Joe, who began handing the baskets to the ushers. Gloria pulled out the Basso Profundo stop and stomped hard on the swell pedal. “Beneath the Cross of Jesus . . .” poured forth in a mighty wall of sound. A spotlight began to glow over the suspended cross behind Lex and Loretta.
“God has spoken directly to you. Do what He has commanded of you. Bring Him your harvest,” Lex said, his voice intense and commanding. “Empty your pockets, pull out your bankbooks, and give to the Lord of the Harvest what is rightfully His. Leave those nickels and dimes for the beggar on the street, but give to the Lord a silent harvest of your bills and cheques.”
To Lex’s annoyance, Charlene broke from the script completely and went to kneel down beside Loretta. Now what? he thought. Although, he had to admit, it looked good, the purity of Loretta next to the obviously shop-worn Charlene. Maybe he’d leave that bit in. The Saint praying with the Sinner. Yeah, he liked it. Gave everybody a good feeling, he could see that. Those in the crowd who were watching the little tableau were nodding and crying happily.
And it seemed to make them all feel generous, too. Lex noted with satisfaction that the offering baskets coming back to the platform were full to overflowing. He’d never seen it this good.
It was time for Gloria to open up all the stops. The auditorium reverberated with the militant strains of “Onward Christian Soldiers”, Lex raised his hands in a final blessing, and it was over. Wearily, he made his way to the back of the platform behind the backdrop and slumped into a chair. From his inside pocket, he dug out the mini flask and took a long pull.
It had been a rough night.
He could hear Joe working the floor in front of the platform, helping people back up, giving them a small bible and a handful of tracts and encouraging them before he sent them on their way.
“Uh, Boss, we have a little problem here.” Joe’s voice at his elbow roused him.
Lex looked up distractedly. “What is it, Joe?”
“That old guy on the end?”
“Yeah. What about him?”
“He’s dead.”
The auditorium was darkened and cold. Hours had passed since the body had been removed, and only the white chalk outline and the yellow police tape were left to show that anything amiss had taken place.
Lex longed for a drink, but he was all too aware of the detective’s skeptical eyes watching his every move. God, what a mess! he thought. Murder! The worst possible thing that could happen. He slumped back into his seat. He wasn’t sure how he was going to pull out of this one. It was the kind of news that made headlines anyway, but by happening at a Revival, it was going to be top tabloid fodder. He rubbed his hands wearily over his face and felt the beginning of stubble on his chin. He’d look like hell on the front pages when the press, already ten deep outside the police cordon in the parking lot, got through with him.
“So, just to tie up a few loose ends, sir, could we just go over the details one more time?” The detective lounged in a seat in the front row.
Lex dragged his attention back to the present. “Certainly, detective. Whatever I can do to help you in this tragic, tragic event.”
“Now, about Miss Danvers. Did you know that the deceased was her father?” the detective asked.
They’d already taken Loretta away. Lex still couldn’t believe it. “No, no, I had no idea. None at all.”
“Did she seem unusually upset tonight?’
Lex hesitated. He pursed his lips as if trying to remember. “Well, she was a little distracted, but I didn’t think anything of it.” He had a momentary flash of Loretta’s strained and white face, her eyes fixed on the man in front of her.
“Did you see the gun in her hand?”
“No. She had palm flashlights. I don’t know how she’d hold a gun.”
The detective sighed. “It’s a very small calibre gun, only good for close range. It is possible to hold it and pull the trigger, even with a palm light.”
Lex replayed the scene again. Loretta pointing at the old man and his falling like a sack of potatoes.
“Did you hear the discharge?”
“No. It was hard to see or hear anything. You know, lots of flashing lights and the organ really pounding out the music.”
Loretta had shot the old guy in cold blood, straight through the heart. God! Lex shook his head in disbelief.
“Did the deceased say anything to Miss Danvers before the incident?”
“No. He was just there in the front with the others. I never saw him before tonight.” Lex suppressed a shudder as he thought of those cold, dead eyes looking into his own.
“Did you know that Miss Danvers possessed a firearm?”
“No.” They’d found it in the pocket of Loretta’s gown. Loretta had protested that it wasn’t hers, that she’d never seen it before, but the fact remained that it was in her possession. Lex wondered what else she’d kept from him.
“Well, I think that wraps it up for now, sir. You’ll need to stick around for the next week in case anything else comes up, but for the meantime, you’re free to go back to your hotel.” The detective closed his book with a small snap and hauled himself up out of the chair. “Please call the station and let us know if you’re planning on leaving town for any reason.”
Lex waited until the detective closed the door behind him, then blew out the deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and pulled out the flask. He took a long drink, feeling the liquor burn its way down his throat and into his stomach.
From the shadows behind the platform, Charlene sauntered over and sat down next to him. She reached for his flask, took a swallow and said, “Are they gone?”
“Yeah. Helluva thing, isn’t it?”
“Well, Lex honey, don’t worry, the show will go on. You still got me’n Joe and Gloria.”
“Yeah. But it won’t be the same without Loretta.”
“Sure it will, honey.” Lex could feel Charlene’s hand on his knee. Somehow, it felt comforting. “We’ll just go on as we always have. Only now, I’ll use some of Loretta’s stuff. Dye my hair black. Spout the Bible. I can do that, honey. You’ll see.” Her hand moved up his thigh. “It’ll be just like it always was. The four of us.”