Servant

by J. S. Bailey

  “So you knew you were possessed?”

  “What else could it have been? The doctors said I was fine but anyone who took a good look at me knew I wasn’t. Some people even said I was faking the whole thing just to get attention, but Bobby, there’s no way I could have faked what I saw and felt. No way at all.”

  Though tears still gave her eyes a glassy sheen and her face remained as pale as cream, Joanna had slumped back in the chair and breathed slower, as if reciting her ordeal to a stranger had given her some measure of relief. “Do you believe anything I’ve just told you?”

  “Of course I do.” She would have no reason to lie to him, and she bore none of the telltale nervous signs of one inventing a story on the spot. “So what led you to Randy?”

  “Oh, you’ll love this.” She rubbed her eyes and blinked away tears. “I went nuts one night about two weeks ago. I hurt so bad I started breaking everything I could get my hands on to try to dull the pain. Plates. Picture frames. Lamps. Mom was screaming and got my stepdad to pin me down before I killed somebody. He flipped me onto my stomach on my bed and was tying something around my wrists so I would stop, and all the sudden I heard something smash against the wall. Then everything got really quiet.”

  Bobby’s pulse quickened. He had a good idea of where this was going. “What was it?”

  “A glass angel figurine. My aunt gave it to me when I was a baby. I didn’t know it then, but later I heard Mom say it flew off my dresser all by itself and exploded against the wall.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Crazy, yes, but it hurt me so much when I found out what happened. My aunt died when I was a little girl. That angel was the only thing I had that she gave me, and the whole thing ended up in the trash. But I’m getting off topic. Mom and Bruce, my stepdad, sort of guessed what was wrong with me as soon as the angel jumped off the dresser. I heard them talking out in the hallway—they’d left me in my room, but at that point I’d mostly calmed down anyway—and then they led me out to the car and drove me to the nearest Catholic church. We’re Methodists, but they thought a priest might know more about that kind of thing than our pastor does.”

  “And the priest referred you to Randy.”

  She nodded. “I met Randy that same night. He went off and talked with my parents and the priest for awhile, and then he came in to talk to me by myself, and he agreed that he’d do his best to set me free so long as I was willing. And I guess the rest is history.”

  “How long have you been here at the safe house?”

  “About a week and a half. Carly and Randy both say in another few days I can go home.”

  The wind bent the blades of grass on the lawn in front of them, and further away, it rustled the treetops making it sound like the whole world whispered. It was peaceful out here. Bobby could see why Phil had chosen this location for a safe house. Anyone who had been through the same hell Joanna experienced could come here and finally believe it possible to live in peace again. “But where did the demon come from?” he asked. “Was it from the things you did with your friends?”

  Joanna took several moments to answer. “That’s what I thought. But when Randy finally got them to speak, they said they’d been with me from the day I was born and had only been waiting until the time was right to torment me.”

  Bobby thought of the tapping at his windows and the ones at the church, and he felt cold. “Why would they do that? Wait so long, I mean?”

  “I don’t know. Randy never got them to say. But they’re gone now, and that’s the important thing. But I’m still scared. Because they could come back if I’m not ‘vigilant,’ as Randy said. I’ve been praying a lot more than I used to. Praying that I’ll never have to go through any of that again.”

  “I’m sorry all those things happened to you.” Hearing about Joanna’s problems made his own seem terribly insignificant. Who cared that he’d been wrongly fired by a boss who cared more about money than the wellbeing of his employees and lost his roommate in the span of a couple days? At least he was still in control of his wits.

  “Ah. Well. It’s okay. One good thing came out of it, though.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It restored my faith in the human race. I was such a cynic before. Randy didn’t know me from Adam but despite that he risked his own life to save mine.” She sighed. “You probably think I’m a chatterbox spilling my guts like this.”

  Actually, Bobby had become so engrossed in her story he’d barely given any thought to the fact that she’d done ninety-nine percent of the talking. “No.”

  “I don’t know a thing about you.”

  He laughed as he thought about his simple existence of waking up and eating and breathing. “There isn’t much to say.”

  “Sure there is! Besides, it evens things up. I tell you my life story, you tell me yours.” She grinned. “Come on. It’s got to be all kittens and butterflies compared to mine.”

  He couldn’t help but smile. “Fine. My name is Bobby, I’m also twenty years old, I’m from Ohio, and I like music.”

  “That’s it?” She looked disappointed. “There’s got to be more than that.”

  “I’m addicted to Sprite and eat too many bagels.”

  She poked him in the ribs, making him jump. “Oh yeah? Where do you put them?”

  “I—”

  He broke off. Phil’s burgundy car had just come into view and was drawing closer to the house. Bobby had the sudden sense that something had gone terribly wrong during the men’s absence. Had Randy been arrested? No, of course not. Randy was in the car, too. His head popped up from behind the seats as the car came to a stop.

  Joanna remained oblivious to Bobby’s thoughts. She stood. “They’re back! Come on, we should help Carly get dinner ready for everyone.”

  Bobby let her go into the house ahead of him. Intuition told him he needed to stay put.

  Besides, Joanna’s story had made him lose his appetite.

  FATHER PRESTON James left Randy Bellison’s house in a brooding mood. Randy had been hiding something from him, and he didn’t like it one bit. Father Preston understood that the Servants and their comrades had to keep a low profile in order to protect themselves from the rest of the world. But to hide something from him? What had he ever done that would make Randy feel he couldn’t be trusted?

  He hadn’t told a soul about the Servants, not even his fellow priests even though the temptation to share something so fascinating had burned like a wildfire on some occasions. He had prayed, though. Prayed that he wouldn’t be a fool and let something like that slip from his tongue in front of those who would tell someone else in turn. There were some who craved miracles in this world. They would stop at nothing to try to witness them for themselves—including exploiting a selfless young man who only wanted to serve God by casting out spirits in His name.

  There was one other person who knew about the Servants, though Father Preston hadn’t been the one to inform him of their existence.

  Father Preston turned into the driveway, snatched up his notebook and pen from the passenger seat in case he would need them, and barged into the house without knocking. Though he was a man of God, right now he felt more like a father about to berate a wayward son. “Tony?” he called out. “Are you in here?”

  A suspicious silence answered him. Father Preston set his things down on the coffee table. His manners were too refined to go ransacking the house in search of the man. Tony would emerge sooner or later. Father Preston could wait.

  More seconds ticked by. “Tony?”

  The man still didn’t answer. Father Preston heaved an agitated sigh.

  Just as he was about to call the man’s name again, the sound of the back door opening and closing carried through the house. The clomping of footsteps fell heavy on the floorboards, and he heard a sneeze.

  The man who entered the front room a moment later halted at the sight of Father Preston. His face blanched, and Father Preston tried to keep a stern expression as the
younger man rushed to regain his composure. “I didn’t know you’d be dropping by today,” Tony said. “Would you like me to get you anything?”

  “An explanation might be in order.”

  Creases formed in Tony’s forehead. “Explanation?”

  This was no time to beat around the bush. “What were you doing there?”

  “What was I doing where?”

  Father Preston glared at him, and Tony seemed to deflate. “You may not have noticed me, but I passed you on the road about a mile before I got to Mr. Bellison’s house. You told me you would be visiting your brother this afternoon, and correct me if I’m wrong, but you wouldn’t have headed that direction to get there.”

  “I had to come back to get something.”

  “If that’s the case, why are you still here?”

  Tony said nothing.

  Father Preston took that as a sign he should continue. “There’s mud on your shoes.”

  The younger man glanced down at his feet. “I was just out in the back.”

  “And you were also at Randy Bellison’s house. That’s the only reason you would have been out that way this afternoon. You must have overhead my telephone conversation this morning and knew where I was going, and you took it upon yourself to beat me there.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know, Tony. You tell me.”

  The men stared at each other for several long moments, neither of them saying anything.

  “An item was missing from his house,” Father Preston said when it became clear Tony had no desire to speak. “Would you know anything about that?”

  “Should I?”

  Father Preston crossed his arms. “If I call your brother, will he say you planned on meeting him today, or will he have no idea what I’m talking about?”

  Again, no answer. Time to try a new tactic.

  “I had to cover for you,” he said. “I tried to convince Randy that the item left of its own accord, but he doesn’t believe that any more than I do. I told him I would keep an eye out for the item in case it turned up. Do you think it will be doing that anytime soon? Because if not, I’ll have to report you to the police.”

  Muscles began to move in Tony’s jaw. Father Preston’s heart gave a flutter of triumph. Yes! He had finally broken through to the man’s conscience, and now he would confess.

  Tony said, “It’s not what you think.”

  WHEN RANDY and Phil came up to the safe house porch, neither man looked as though he were in the brightest of moods.

  “What happened?” Bobby asked in a low voice after making sure Joanna had closed the door behind her. “What did the cops say?”

  Randy’s face was grim. “Nothing. We didn’t call them.”

  Even though Bobby should have felt relieved that Randy wouldn’t be hauled off to prison today, the words made a weight form in his stomach. “Why not?”

  Phil’s tired eyes probed Bobby’s face. “Did you go back to Randy’s house at any point after you left him with Lupe?”

  The question took him aback. “Why would I have gone back there?”

  The men exchanged a glance he didn’t like. “You’re absolutely sure?” Phil asked.

  Bobby’s irritation began to rise again. “What, you think I forgot what I did last night? I went straight home, got in bed, and didn’t get up until eleven this morning. If you don’t believe me, ask Caleb.” The last words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them, and his face flushed. “Or not.”

  “So you could have gone there,” Phil said, his tone now accusing.

  Bobby’s mind started to whirl. What was wrong with these people? Was it because he’d used Randy’s key to get in last night? Did they think he used the key again?

  Then it hit him. “Something’s missing,” he said. “And you think I took it.”

  Phil’s expression twisted into a devilish smile that seemed to say, Aha!

  Bobby glanced back and forth between him and Randy, silently pleading for one of them to explain. “I don’t understand. What’s missing?”

  Suddenly, as if several puzzle pieces in his mind snapped into place, their problem became clear to him. Trish.

  The weight in his stomach began to squirm like an eel, and he hoped he wouldn’t be sick. “Trish is gone?” he asked, though he knew it had to be the truth. Why else would they have not phoned the authorities? If the body had been taken, they would have nothing to show for their claim that a woman died in the house.

  “Not just Trish,” Phil said. “All of her things, too.”

  “And,” Randy said, “someone took the time to tidy up.”

  Bobby sank back into the wrought-iron chair. Their implied accusation was like a knife in the heart, and it shocked him too much to elicit his anger. “What makes you think I did it?”

  “Look,” Randy said, lifting a hand. “I believe you’re innocent. Phil, however, is being realistic.”

  “How is that realistic? I would never—”

  “You had the ability to do it,” Phil butted in.

  “But I didn’t! What would I even do with a dead body?” Several gruesome images appeared in his mind, and he banished them as quickly as he could. Sure, other people might find various uses for a female corpse, but Bobby wasn’t one of them.

  Phil just shrugged.

  Bobby turned to Randy instead. “You’ve got to believe me.”

  “Chill out. I already said I do.”

  The front door swung open, and Carly appeared in the doorway looking flustered. “Are you three ever going to get in here?” she asked. “Joanna and I are looking for volunteers to help us get dinner ready.”

  “I’ll help out,” Bobby said, jumping at the opportunity to end the conversation. “What do you need me to do?”

  “SO WHAT’S the occasion?” Randy asked as he piled a slab of lasagna onto his plate. He’d taken a nap out on the couch while Bobby helped the girls cook and Phil made some phone calls outside where no one would overhear, but he still looked terrible.

  “It’s time to eat,” Bobby said, snatching up the best-looking piece of garlic bread. His appetite had returned at the first scent of cooking food. “That’s enough of an occasion for me.”

  Randy shook his head as his eyes traveled over the creamed peas, cooked carrots, and tray of cinnamon rolls that Bobby hadn’t yet gotten to.

  “I was just going to make lasagna,” Carly said, “but Bobby said we had to eat our vegetables, too.” She turned to Bobby and winked, and he felt his face turn red all over again. “Besides, you’ve welcomed him into the fold. That’s a call for celebration if I ever saw one.”

  It became so quiet Bobby thought someone had hit a mute button.

  Phil’s expression turned to stone. “Just who welcomed him?”

  Carly filled her plate without looking at him. She hurried from the kitchen and took a seat at the dining room table, her cheeks flushed pink.

  Randy, Bobby, and Phil followed her and took their respective chairs while Joanna scooped food onto her plate.

  “Carly?”

  She lifted her head and stared at Phil. “What?”

  “Who welcomed Bobby into the fold?”

  She glanced back down at her plate. “I just assumed . . . I thought . . .”

  “You thought what?” Phil snapped, startling all of them, Bobby included.

  Carly stabbed at a carrot and raised it to her mouth. “I guess I got a little confused.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Joanna said softly as she slipped into a chair at the end of the table, her doe-like eyes wide.

  Randy glanced at Joanna. “Maybe this shouldn’t be discussed in present company.”

  “It’s a little too late for that.” Phil continued to drill Carly with a stare. “Carly, would you please answer the question?”

  She swallowed and glanced to Randy. “You guys left Bobby here for a reason, right?”

  Startled, Bobby lowered his fork. Reason?

  “I brough
t him here,” Phil said, “because he wanted to discuss something with Randy, whose phone was dead.”

  “Then he didn’t know anything about the Servants beforehand?”

  Phil’s eyebrows shot up. “Not very much. What all did Miss Jovingo tell you, Bobby?”

  “Jovingo?” The sudden tension in the room made it difficult for Bobby to think. “Who’s that?”

  “Me,” Carly said, her voice small.

  Oh. Right.

  “It’s my fault,” Bobby said, hoping that Carly wouldn’t be punished for imparting certain information to him. “She thought I was going to be some kind of replacement for Randy, and I sort of played along.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  Bobby didn’t attempt to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “Gee, I can’t imagine. Maybe I was tired of being left in the dark and figured if I pretended like I was a replacement, she’d tell me things so I wouldn’t be in the dark anymore.”

  “So you lied to her.”

  “Basically.”

  Phil’s lip curled. “We have no place for liars here.”

  Bobby started to object, but Randy lifted a hand. “Phil, what do you call what we did back at my house with Father Preston?”

  Phil snatched up his fork and sliced a corner off of his lasagna. “We were doing what needed to be done.”

  “Exactly. And Carly, I would have told you if Bobby was to be my replacement.”

  “That’s what I thought, but then I wondered if you’d sent him here to help out in a different way. You know, like me. When he said he didn’t know what made you different from other exorcists, I thought you just hadn’t had the time to fill him in yet.” A tear glistened in the corner of her eye, and Bobby had the sudden mental image of himself leaning over and wiping it away.