3 Gates of the Dead (The 3 Gates of the Dead Series)

by Ryan, Jonathan

  Father Neal nodded for me to go on.

  “Then I met Amanda, and I guess I thought I’d met God, too.”

  He smiled. “You are not the first to fall in love with a girl and think it was God.”

  “I sure equated the two. I thought the happiness she brought into my life was God. Then my parents died, and she broke up with me. Those two events stripped me of that illusion and exposed the weakness of my faith.”

  “And so you started questioning your rational reasons for believing?” Father Neal asked, shifting in his seat.

  “I’m sorry, are you uncomfortable?”

  “Just a bit cold. Do you mind going inside? I have some excellent scotch you might want to sample.”

  I smiled. “I’m there.”

  Father Neal swayed a little bit as we walked to the church door. I reached out and caught him. “Father Neal? Are you okay?”

  He smiled. “A long night, my dear boy, and in spite of my denial, my body can no longer take such excitement.”

  Once inside Father Neal’s office, he poured two scotches, and we settled into our seats. “Now, finish your story,” he said.

  I sat back in my chair, looking at the scotch as if it could reflect my story back to me. “I started going back to my reasons for believing … my logical, ordered, and in-place faith. I found perfectly rational reasons why the Bible was just a book.” I pointed to his bookshelf that contained texts on higher criticism of the Bible.

  “So, you read Crossan, Ehrman, and the Old Testament critics?” Father Neal asked.

  I nodded and then pointed to another bookshelf that contained books by Dawkins, Hitchens, and Schermer. “Then I read those books and found sound, rational reasons to doubt that God existed at all. Belief in Him just didn’t make sense to me anymore. There seemed to be perfectly logical and scientific reasons for not believing in him. I equated science and theology … nice, rational, in place. All of my reading blew that apart. So, when you combine that with everything else, especially Christians’ hate for each other, I figured the whole thing wasn’t true. So, I guess you could say it was other people’s fault.”

  Father Neal frowned. “It’s not good to blame others for our failure to believe, Aidan.”

  I gulped the scotch and slammed the glass down. “Then who do I blame, Father? God? I would if I thought He existed. He has never made himself real to me in any way. I have never felt Him. There are no rational reasons for believing He exists, so what am I left with?” My voice rose with each syllable until I was shouting.

  “Aidan,” Father Neal said, holding up his hand. “You are doing what everyone does.”

  “I’m really in no mood for riddles,” I said, throwing myself back in the chair.

  He raised an eyebrow. “That much is obvious. You are setting your own experience as the final judge of truth. Therefore, you are setting up science and faith, rationality and spirituality, in opposition to each other. When one fails, the other must be true. When faith failed you, you turned to science.”

  He took a drink of his scotch, and I jumped back in. “And now science has failed me,” I said, pointing to my head.

  He raised his eyebrows. “How do you work that out?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Training in science didn’t prepare me to have the air squeezed out of my lungs, to be smacked in the face, to be tripped on stairs or to have Hebrew carved into my forehead.”

  Father Neal smiled. “It depends on what you mean by science. If, by science, you mean the view that everything in the universe has a material and natural explanation, then yes, science has failed you. If you mean science the way it should really be done, you could say that science has rewarded you.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Think about the scientific method. You have a theory, and then you test it to see if it’s true. If the tests hold up, you stay with that theory until something comes along that changes it. Am I right?”

  I nodded, unable to argue with that reasonable logic.

  “You have bought into the idea that what we see is the only way to understand the reality around us. But I hate to tell you, a materialistic view of the world is limited by what it can explain.”

  “So we should just abandon scientific exploration?”

  Father Neal rapped my arm with his cane. “Don’t be ridiculous. Didn’t you hear anything I just said? Again, you have put things in opposition that shouldn’t be. I will hit you with my cane every time you do that from now on.”

  “Bringing the rod of discipline to a wayward child?”

  “I’m just telling you, Aidan, that maybe you are not doubting hard enough.”

  I had no idea what he was talking about. My chest began to throb, and my head swirled from the strong scotch. I knew what he said was important, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. “Okay, so let me ask you this, let’s say a demon or a ghost or whatever attacked me. Why was it focused on me? Why didn’t it go after anyone else?”

  “I don’t know the answer to that question. Not yet. It was obviously trying to communicate something. It spoke when I spoke to bind it. But what it said didn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “What did it say?”

  “It kept saying ‘Nebo darash’ over and over again.”

  Nebo. I lifted up my head as my face went pale.

  “Aidan, are you okay? Do those things mean anything to you?”

  “Nebo was on Amanda’s head when the cops found her.”

  He stood silent for a moment. “Yes. Yes, it all makes sense now,” he whispered.

  “What?” I gripped my legs.

  “Nothing, continue.”

  I told him about the note and the vision I had in his office.

  “And that is why you asked me about the Bone Masters?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you remember your Hebrew?”

  “A little.”

  “Well, the other word the demon muttered, darash, means one who conjures the dead for the purpose of conversing or having mastery over them.”

  I leaned forward. “Then how do I explain Amanda’s words ‘find him at the gates of the dead?’” And how does all this fit in?”

  Father Neal stared off into space as if looking for answers. “Tomorrow they will go through the evidence of the hunt. I think you should be there.”

  “Ah, can’t. Session meeting tomorrow. I have to be there for this one. They might fire my boss. Long story.”

  He nodded. “Then meet us in the sanctuary after it is done.”

  “Why?”

  “The Bone Masters. The words scrawled in Amanda’s head. There is more that needs to be said, but I need time to think. I don’t have the answers you need right now. I know I don’t act like it, Aidan, but I’m old. And the confrontation has drained me.”

  Father Neal’s face looked ragged and droopy as if someone had pulled down on his skin. I wanted to object again, but I couldn’t. I got up from the chair. “Okay, Father, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I watched him rise from the chair, leaning heavily on his cane. “Good night, my boy.”

  I left his office without saying another word. Father Neal sat back down in his chair, looking out his window into the night as I closed the office door. When I got into my car, I sat in silence for a moment before finally reaching into my pocket for my phone. The white emblem glared in the darkness, telling me I had a text message.

  It was from Jennifer. Need an hour of sleep. I’m going to bed. Hope you are okay.

  I wasn’t okay. Far from it. It would have been nice to hear Jennifer’s voice. Maybe it would drive away the nightmares.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, Brian wrote.

  Tell me about it, I replied. I wouldn’t have believed it if I wasn’t there.

  So, is your faith restored?

  I frowned. A natural question, I guess, but just because I experienced something I couldn’t explain didn’t mean I was willing to have fa
ith in God. It was too early in the morning to get philosophical with Brian. I wanted to keep it light.

  No, why would that be?

  Because you just got attacked by something you couldn’t see, you stupid asshole.

  I laughed. Ashley must’ve still been asleep. Yeah, but that doesn’t prove anything other than there might be a spirit world. As for God, who knows? It’s a huge leap to go from ghost attack to the Christian God, you know. I chomped on my toast as I typed.

  Good point, but come on. There is a purpose behind all of this. You have to see that.

  I ran my hands through my hair as Bishop put his head in my lap. I do, I guess. But I’m not ready to let go of my doubt or anger. Right now, all of this just makes it worse. I’m confused. I’m angry. I’m sad. I might be falling for a lady cop, and I have met some mystical priest who seems to have one foot in this world and one foot in, I dunno … ghost land.

  Heh, ghost land?

  Only word I have for it.

  I rubbed Bishop’s head as Brian responded.

  Good word for it. Seems like this stuff has always followed you around.

  I frowned as I typed. What are you talking about?

  Have you forgotten that night as we drove back to the city from camp?

  I had, in fact, forgotten. In college, Brian and I had worked at a summer camp filled with white, rich kids who wanted a real, honest, “forest” experience, whatever that was. The road from camp was very curvy and more than a bit dangerous. There had been a number of gruesome car accidents along that stretch.

  Brian rode shotgun, and I sat in the back while our friend drove. We both looked out the window when a lady in white, riding on a white horse, shining in the darkness, appeared in the woods along the road. We shouted, “What the hell was that?” at the same time, but our friend saw nothing. Right after it happened, I asked Brian to tell me what he saw, and he described exactly the same thing.

  He was right. The ghost world was following me around. That thought made me uncomfortable. I had no desire to make any more contact with that place, if there was such a thing.

  I hope not, I wrote. I don’t need that complication in my life.

  I know you might laugh at this, but I have a bad feeling about all of it. I think something or someone has an interest in you. I mean, the footprints, the visions, and whatever happened at the house. Something seems to like you an awful lot.

  I rubbed Bishop’s ears as he started to snore. It was actually a comforting sound, and I needed it. Everything had just become too unreal. I tried to laugh off Brian’s comment as I responded. I think you read too many Stephen King novels.

  Now you sound like Ashley, Brian wrote.

  Not pretty enough, I’m afraid.

  Stop changing the subject. I’m serious. I really think you are in danger. You can’t deny it.

  If I had been forced to put this theory into peer review for a scientific journal, I would have been laughed at. I had no evidence other than some personal experiences. But they were powerful ones.

  My phone rang. I looked at it and smiled. Yo man, gotta run. Lady Cop is calling.

  Don’t let her put you in handcuffs … unless you want her to!

  See ya.

  I grabbed my cell phone and answered just in time. “Hello, Officer Brown, how may I help you this morning?”

  “It’s Detective Brown, Reverend Schaeffer.”

  “Oh, right, forgot,” I teased. “What can I do for you, Detective Brown?”

  “My boss is chewing everyone’s ass out about this case as you might guess. He wants us to go over every lead again, and that includes you.”

  My heart fluttered. “Are they questioning my alibi?”

  “No, they all agree you are no longer a suspect. But they think you may have more information for us.”

  “So, there are no leads whatsoever?”

  She sighed. “No, nothing. Other than the evidence I showed you, we have nothing. Everyone is going nuts trying to figure out what Nebo means. The boss says thanks for that lead, by the way.”

  “Glad I could help. Believe me, if I could think of more information, I would.”

  “I really don’t know what to do. The press is asking questions. The mayor is involved because it’s such a high-profile case, ‘bloody murder at a Columbus landmark’ and all that.”

  “Yeah, I’ve been reading the papers.”

  “Thank God no one knows all the details.” She paused. “So, are you going to tell me about your ghost hunt?”

  “It was fine.”

  “That’s it? Fine? No details?”

  “I don’t know if I want to share them. You might think I’m totally freaking crazy.”

  “I already think that, so you have nothing to lose.”

  I took a deep breath and told her everything that happened to me, including the Hebrew being scraped into my forehead.

  She became silent.

  “Jennifer?”

  “I’m sorry, this is just leaving me puzzled. I don’t like it. The stuff with Father Neal last night, just downright crazy shit.”

  “You and me both,” I said. “And tonight, I have to go back to the church to review any evidence they collected from the hunt.”

  “That sounds interesting.”

  “I think I would rather go to a session meeting.”

  “Can I come with you?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I think it might be interesting.”

  I had trouble reading her intentions by her tone. “I guess,” I said, gently rubbing the painful scratches in my forehead. “Can you meet me at St. Patrick’s after my meeting tonight?”

  “What time?”

  “I don’t know. Session meeting will most likely go for hours.”

  “Just call me.”

  “I will. See you then.” I hung up the phone and stared at a blank TV. I didn’t like how I felt right now. I used to have everything figured out, from my faith to my recent bout with agnosticism. I’d drifted into uncharted territory. I had moved beyond my faith, at least I thought I had, but now, I’d started to move beyond my doubt.

  To where, I had no idea.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I got to the church a half an hour early. I always tried to arrive before everyone else. It made me feel more comfortable. My own version of surveying the field before the battle.

  I decided I wouldn’t tell anyone about Mike’s affair. What would be the point? If he was on his way out, it was really no one’s business, no matter how much of a hypocrite it made him. I felt bad for Sheila and their kids. But maybe knowing would just be worse.

  At least, that’s what I hoped.

  Once I got to my office, I trolled the Internet for the word Nebo. I found nothing I didn’t already know. As I went to cross-reference the word, I was startled by a knock on my door. I turned around to see Elder John.

  “Aidan, may I speak with you for a moment?”

  “Yes, of course. Come in.”

  He sat down. “You know what we will probably decide tonight, correct?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you support the decision?”

  “I really don’t know what to say to that.”

  John frowned. “No, I guess you’re right. That was badly stated.”

  “I’ll try to serve the church in any way I can, if that is what you mean.” I took a drink of water.

  “Yes, exactly. God’s flock here at Knox will need a shepherd in the coming days. You know how long pastor searches can take.”

  He glanced at my forehead. Thankfully, I’d covered the Hebrew with a Band-Aid. Before he could ask, I answered his unspoken question.

  “I do. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” The lie came to my lips almost without thinking.

  “Good. I’m sure your faithfulness will be rewarded.”

  Yeah, like it has been so far…

  He patted my shoulder and then looked at my forehead again. “Di
d you hurt yourself?”

  I waved my hand. “Yeah, my dog saw a squirrel or something. Took off after it and ran me into a tree.”

  John frowned. “I’m sorry, brother, I’ll pray for you.”

  He walked out of my office. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes trying to gather my thoughts. With a deep breath, I got up and walked toward the conference room.

  When I entered, the tension hit me like a developing supercell thunderstorm. If there’d been any Kansas residents in the church, they would have been fleeing for their shelters. No one smiled, and no one looked at anyone else.

  Mike entered last and stood at the head of the table. “I call this meeting to order,” he said. “And I immediately ask for a replacement moderator, considering the business we are about to discuss. My suggestion would be Rev. Timothy Williams, a friend of this church who is now present with us.”

  Timothy sat at the other end of the table. He looked like Plato’s ideal form of a Presbyterian minister and wore khaki pants, a white shirt and a tie just about everywhere he went. A very sensitive man, he actually broke down crying at a presbytery meeting after we once disciplined an ordained minister for infidelity. Up until meeting Father Neal, Timothy was the only guy who still gave me any hope for my profession.

  “Thank you, brothers. I’ll do my best to moderate this meeting in fairness.” Timothy paused. “Let’s open in prayer. Father, please bring us a spirit of unity as we…”

  My thoughts soon lost track of his prayer. I looked up to see Mike gazing at the table with a blank stare. From what I could tell, he was about ten minutes away from losing his job. These men would show no mercy. An unexpected feeling of pity rose up in me, and I stared up at the lights.

  Did he deserve to lose his job this way? Over a stupid Sunday school lesson? He probably deserved to lose it for fucking around, but the elders didn’t know that. Hell, how many pastors had committed infidelity? The stress of the job could break anyone at any time. Could I really blame him for that? Wasn’t my loss of faith and staying in this job the same thing?

  I frowned at the unexpected perspective and shifted in my seat as I bowed my head.

  “Amen.” Timothy looked up at the elders. “Now, the way this meeting will be conducted will be first to let John introduce his motion. It must be seconded, and then the discussion will be allowed to happen. Once seconded, I’ll allow five minutes for each person who wants to speak, but we must be balanced on both sides of the issue. John, you may now present your motion.”