The House the Devil Built

by Benjamin Hively

  Trevor caught sight of the man as well, and he motioned for Ashton in the dimness of the bar. Ashton seemed not to notice and stood motionless in the shadows, in a trance-like state staring into the crowd. No one else was occupied by the man’s presence, but Mark leapt from his seat, winding his way through the patrons and grabbed Ashton’s arm. His arm was cold to the touch, his voice barely audible as he chanted something non-intelligible beneath his breath. His gaze didn’t even falter as Mark pulled him away towards where he was seated, and when they arrived back at his spot, Trevor leaned over the bar.

  “We got to get him out of here, he looks like one of those tweaker homeless guys,” Trevor tried whispering, his voice booming over the din in the bar. Mark was already on it and after throwing some cash for his tab on the bar, he pulled Ashton outside.

  “You alright, Ashton? Dillon’s been worried as hell about you,” Mark said, pulling him up towards his room. The man didn’t respond, his eyes seeing past everything in front of him. It was as if he was drugged up, and with the details Dillon had given him, Mark was sure this was the case. He was able to get Ashton into his room without a fight, and he sat him down in a chair before going to the bathroom to turn on the shower. Mark adjusted the water and went back into the bedroom. “We’re gonna get you in the shower, everything will be alright.”

  Ashton seemed to snap back into the moment and looked at Mark, a strange spark in his eye, and he weakly smiled. Mark approached him and grabbed Ashton’s shirt to pull it over his head. As he pulled the shirt over Ashton’s head, the moment striking a familiarity with him. He remembered back to when he helped his children prep for bath time and in Ashton’s current state the comparison was strong. The shirt was the easy part for Mark but he started to get nervous as he unbuttoned the man’s pants. Ashton complied, and soon his pants laid in a heap on the ground. Mark was still squatted on the ground as Ashton rose from the chair, standing in only his briefs and he looked down at Mark, a bigger smile starting to spread across his face.

  “I want you to fuck me, Sergeant Batton,” Ashton said, his voice deeper than Mark remembered it. Ashton proceeded to pull down his briefs, his penis jumping from the release beneath the cotton. As much as Mark wanted to pull away, something forced him to stay in his position as Ashton’s body moved closer, his penis inching its way towards Mark’s face. The man reeked of sweat and masculinity and, as if by command, Mark opened his mouth to allow Ashton to enter, the taste of skin and salt filling every corner of his mouth. Although Mark was no expert, he could hear Ashton’s moans, and from his point of view he could see Ashton throw his head back in lust. Mark began to fondle himself beneath his jeans as Ashton grabbed onto the sides of his head and began to thrust into his mouth. The whole scene played out like one of the films he had watched, and soon they were on the bed, both entirely nude. It was at that moment that Mark began to doubt himself, but Ashton became guide, and before he knew it Mark’s erect penis was inside Ashton. The feeling was explosive and he wished he could stay there, but with the bed squeaking beneath them with every movement. He was beginning to feel a stirring deep inside him. It didn’t take him long before his climax came, and, as he released a lifetime of longing, guilt began to rear its head. At first he thought the guilt was about his sexual encounter with a male, but as Ashton sank into the bed next him it wasn’t the stigma that left him feeling dirty, it was the betrayal of Dillon that made his stomach turn.

  Ashton had already passed out as Mark got up from the bed. The shower was still on, steam streaming from the open door, and Mark entered the room, happy he couldn’t see himself in the mirror. The water wrapped him in warmth as he plunged into the shower, the water cascading down his body and spinning into the drain below. He knew he needed to call Dillon to inform that he had found Ashton, but first he wanted to reconcile himself with what had just occurred. He wasn’t sure if he should keep the indiscretion to himself or be honest with Dillon, and the misery of telling him the truth kept the shower from calming his nerves. He let the water pelt his back, his eyes focusing on the spider that had spun a web in the corner, a fly trying desperately to escape its sticky prison. The water began to run cold, forcing Mark to vacate the shower to the cold cracked tile floor.

  He didn’t want to face what he had just done with Ashton, and he hoped the man was still slumbering as he soaked up the water from his body with the flimsy towel. The shame turned to trepidation as he retreated from the bathroom, the bedroom completely empty. Ashton’s clothes were still in a pile on the ground. He rushed to the door swinging it open and looking out into parking lot. The entire area was void of Ashton’s presence, and Mark, realizing he was still in his towel, slammed the door behind him. He checked his belongings to ensure they were all accounted for, worried Ashton may have robbed him of some possessions but everything was in its rightful place, and he grabbed his cell phone to call Dillon. He paused in the midst of dialing, unsure of how to tell Dillon that he had found Ashton, fornicated, and now the man was gone again but just as finished typing the number, his cell phone lit up and an unknown number flashed on the screen.

  “Hello?” Mark screamed into the cell phone.

  The other line was silent for a moment and Mark almost ended the call but stopped short when a voice on the other end quietly whispered, “Daddy?” Mark’s mind stopped thinking about Dillon and Ashton as he recognized the voice as that of Marsh. He hadn’t heard his son call him that since he was a young child and his frantic whisper frightened Mark to the core.

  “Marsh, baby. Are you ok?” Mark waited for a response and after another short pause, he could hear tears in his son’s words.

  “Please let me come home.”

  TEN

  Saturday service wasn’t typical for Terry. With the recent insurgence and the public outcry, he needed to gather his army to combat the forces that were tearing at the fabric of their very lives. He had worked tirelessly for many years, just like his father before him, at South Belle, to enrich the lives of his community with the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and he had already lost a friend to the conniving ways of the homosexuals. They had gotten to Mark and his family, ripping away the young heart of Marsh, and leading him down a path of destruction straight to the Devil in Hell. Terry felt validated for saving Marsh’s soul by sending him to Re-Course. With Janice taking up the cause, he had created the signs of protest and tonight would be the night he would dole them out to his followers. Tonight, he and the congregation would begin the process of taking back Acadian Springs from the frightful hold of the damned homosexuals.

  With only a few hours left to prepare for everyone’s arrival, Terry frantically wrote notes for the night’s sermon. Listing all the necessary verses and passages, he began to build upon them with his own rhetoric and life stories. He faltered as he wrote out Mark’s name, weary of airing the man’s dirty laundry out in public, but for the sake of his argument, he continued moving his pen on the paper outlining the details of the tragedy that had befallen the Batton family. He had invited Denise this evening as a special guest so she could feel the support of her fellow church members and be reminded that she wasn’t alone in the fight; that God had a plan for Marsh to be a productive member of society. He was positive with God’s love, Denise would find solace.

  He heard rustling somewhere in the church, as if someone had entered unannounced, and he sat his pen down, cocking his head to try to listen. He knew he had locked the doors behind him and he had a full hour before the early birds would be at the door waiting. The sound persisted, and he removed himself from behind the desk and peeked his head out the door. The hallway was empty. The sound echoed from the chapel area so he moved towards it, checking each corridor as he passed. The chapel lights were ablaze, but the room was deserted except for the sounds of crying bouncing off the arched ceiling and four walls. Terry continued down the aisle, checking each pew as he passed. The sound grew stronger near the end of the aisle, and his eyes locked on to the source of the sobs. One of
the men from the farm was lying naked on the floor in a fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably.

  Something inside Terry pushed him to bend down to assist the man, and he could see the pure fright in the man’s eyes. At the sight of Terry the man pulled away, and scurried to the other end of the pew clearly, unaware of his surroundings. Compassion began to fill Terry, and he approached the man slowly, trying to calm him. The man continued to be driven backwards, walking crablike into the middle aisle. Terry brought himself back down to the man’s level in hopes of soothing him.

  “How did I get here?” the man asked finally, looking around at the stain glass windows and altar.

  “I’m not sure, but I am glad you came. You are safe now,” Terry reluctantly said, pulling the man to his feet. The man was untrustworthy of Terry for obvious reasons but let him assist in becoming acclimated with the environment. “Let’s get you covered up.”

  Terry had always kept an extra set of clothing in his office for emergencies, and although they were several sizes too big for the scrawny man, they clothed him. They sat quietly in his office for a couple of minutes before Ashton spoke.

  “Thank you,” Ashton whispered. The man’s gratitude was sincere, and Terry nodded in acknowledgement.

  “What’s your name, son?” Terry asked. From their previous encounter, he couldn’t remember the names of the two men that resided at the Boudreaux Plantation. The man looked around at the protest signs placed around the room and laughed uncomfortably.

  “Can we go back out to the chapel?” the man inquired. Terry could understand the man’s discomfort in the room, and he followed the man as they reentered the modest sanctuary. The man sat down in the first row, his eyes investigating the adornments of the church. Terry sat next to him and waited for the man’s next words. After a few moments the man said, “Ashton.”

  “Ashton, not a biblical name. Did you grow up in the church?”

  “Only on holidays. My family wasn’t big on organized religion.”

  “That’s too bad. Everyone could use God’s love, especially in these trying times,” Terry pointed out. The conversation was going better than he had expected an interaction with the gay man to go and he pushed further, “Do you believe in God?”

  “I don’t know. I watch the news every day, all the wars, the hate, hunger. Seems if there was such a thing as a God, there wouldn’t be such detestable things occurring.”

  “But that’s where you’re wrong. God gave humanity free will, all the way back to Adam and Eve. Some humans make bad decisions, and at the end of their existence, their judgement day will come.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Faith,” Terry stated bluntly. Ashton didn’t seem convinced of the man’s words, but continued to sit to have a rational conversation. “Without faith, you don’t have much to look forward to.”

  “From your perspective.”

  “From God’s perspective.”

  “There’s something wrong with me, Pastor,” the man stated, the juxtaposition throwing Terry off, and he eyed the man with curiosity, “I can feel it moving within me and at times I can’t control myself. Almost like something else takes over the reins. I don’t know how I got here tonight, like a chalkboard that’s been erased. Does any of this make sense to you?” Terry could sense an urgency in the man’s speech pattern, and he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “This may sound ridiculous, but it’s like something else is possessing me.”

  “I know,” Terry asserted.

  “You know? But how do you…” the man’s voice trailed off, tears welling up in his eyes.

  “All sins are connected to demons. The devil’s workers. Homosexuality is one of the worst afflictions to have and the strongest demon to release,” Terry explained, waiting for Ashton to jump up and run away but he stayed motionless on the pew listening intently to him. “You’ve got to purge yourself from this lifestyle, my son or you will live in torment for the rest of your life.”

  “I’ve been this way my entire life, Pastor. It’s all I know,” Ashton cried.

  “You’ve come to the right place. If you’re willing, we can ask God for help.”

  “Right now?”

  “Well, miracles work best with the support of others. We are having a service tonight, and in front of God and everyone we can force this demon away once and for all,” Terry regaled. He was unsure if the man was being honest with wanting the help, but if he could convince the man to Deliverance Acadian Springs would be better off.

  “What about Dillon?” Ashton questioned, but Terry was ready to fire back.

  “He won’t understand the new you, the Ashton with God on his side. If he sees the errors in his ways, we can bring him in here to bring him Deliverance as well.” The man’s uncertainty was written all over his face, but Terry felt confident that he had convinced Ashton.

  “I just want to be free,” Ashton finally said, and Terry smiled.

  “And free you will be, my boy. Everyone should be arriving soon, so if you’d like to freshen up beforehand, there’s restrooms down the hall.” With that, Terry stood and the man followed suit. Terry hugged Ashton and the man weakly returned it, wiping his teary eyes. “This is the right decision, Ashton.”

  “I know,” the man said, before heading off down the hallway. Terry watched as Ashton disappeared, and he went back to his office to rearrange the sermon. He grabbed his book detailing the specifics of Deliverance, threw his notes into the pages, and met Ashton back in the chapel. He placed his items on the podium and kept an eye on Ashton as the man looked up at each window, taking in the details of each stain glass masterpiece. He admired Ashton’s curiosity as he continued setting up his sermon for the night, nervous about the night’s events unfolding. He had never given Deliverance to anyone before, but had meticulously studied it while in college so he felt even without the experience, God would see him through the task.

  People began to arrive for the special sermon early, filling up the chapel. He had placed Ashton in the front row of the pews, and everyone seemed abuzz at the new member’s presence. Terry promised them that he would be introduced tonight and continued on with greeting members as they crossed the threshold. He saw faces he hadn’t seen in years and hugged them for their support in helping their community. As the last few people staggered in, he could see Janice trailing behind them. She finally made it inside, kissed her husband, and they walked back into the chapel where everyone was intermingling with one another.

  “One of the men is here, Janice. I made it through to him!” Terry exclaimed to his wife, pointing towards the front of the room. Although everyone was curious about the new man, no one seemed to confront him. Terry moved forwards with his wife to introduce them. She was apprehensive as they got closer to the pew where Ashton was seated, but as soon as they were near him Ashton looked up, smiling.

  “Welcome to South Belle. I’m Janis, Pastor Shlepp’s wife,” she said, extending her hand to him. He put his hand in her hers and shook it casually. “Mind if I sit with you?”

  He motioned to the empty bench, she sat next to him, and Terry left them to converse. Terry wasn’t sure how the night would pan out but he was ecstatic that the man was willing to try an intervention. No one was wiser to the man’s predicament, and Terry continued to mull among the guests waiting for his time to climb up on the pulpit, and start his sermon. He couldn’t believe so many people showed up for the night, knowing they were about to wage a war but unknowing to them, the enemy had already surrendered. It was in their midst, and justice would be served, just as God would want it to be.

  The time came to lead the congregation and he stepped up to his podium and tapped on the microphone. Everyone took their seats, shushing themselves into silence. Terry shuffled his paperwork as the final voices quieted themselves, and he looked out onto his congregation, seats filled to capacity with stern faces. He looked down where Ashton and his wife were seated, and she smiled at him. Ashton didn’t smile but looked determined as
he tapped his fingers on his knee waiting for the outcome of the night to unveil itself.

  “I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight, to be a part of the change that our town so desperately needs,” Terry began, “In the last few weeks, you have heard the urgency of my words, of God’s words, and he is shining a light on each and every one of you that have showed your support by taking the time to be seated here. To begin, I’d like to start off with a prayer.” Terry watched as everyone bowed their heads and he continued, “Heavenly Father, we have gathered this evening to pursue your purpose, to enrich the lives of our community, and to gather strength as we progress into this conflict. We ask that you protect us as we spread your word in these unholy times, and that you will fill those that need it with your love. In Jesus’s name we pray, Amen.”

  The chapel filled with the voices of people as the prayer finished and fell silent once again as Terry looked out amongst the crowd. “As many of you all know, a burden was laid on our shoulders recently. A test from God to weed out the non-believers and to find his soldiers that would fight for what was holy and right. Many of you have shared your disgust at the tragedy that had befallen Acadian Springs, the homosexuals that laid claim to the Boudreaux Plantation outside of town. Some people voiced that it didn’t affect them directly, but I am here to tell you the truth. It has affected our town and more importantly the Batton family. Denise Batton came to me and feared for her son’s salvation. With the perversion of the homosexuals, they had infiltrated the boy's mind and he began to show signs of homosexual tendencies.”