Devil Unknown

by Steena Holmes

  The radiant skin of a fallen angel only diminishes with time. It fades but never goes away.

  “Leave me alone,” she muttered, angry at herself for dwelling on him, on their past.

  “I’ve never left you alone. Why would I start now?” The husky tone to Max’s voice warned her.

  Her body stiffened when he held her and drew her close. She angled her head away from his chest. She stifled a scream as it lodged in her throat. He took three steps and placed her on a softer surface. Rusted springs creaked as her weight bore down on them. She imagined herself on a cot and tried not to think about what infested the mattress she laid on.

  “I’m hurt, Joanne. To think that after all my tender care towards you as a patient, that you would feel this way about me now. Have I ever let you down? I gave you the greatest gift I could. A son. Our son - made for greatness. I’ve taken care of you when everyone else forgot you. I’m hurt.”

  Her hands fisted and her nails dug into her palms. Sincerity dripped from his voice like poison from a forked tongue. Under her breath she prayed the Lord’s Prayer.

  “Why do you bother? He’s already given up on you. He tested you and you failed. He may be the God of second chances, but when you sell your soul to the Fallen, there’s no second chance.”

  She listened for his footsteps. She needed him to walk away. To leave her alone. To stop reading her every thought.

  “I’ll never leave you. Nor forsake you.”

  His bitter laugh as he walked away filled her with dread.

  Chapter Eight

  “Seriously Mr. Nathan, I’ve never seen him so out of it before! He went right past me as if I wasn’t even there and he wasn’t alone. There was a man in a black coat with him. He scared me.”

  Nathan placed his arm around Austin’s shoulders as they entered the diner. The boy squeezed his hands together while looking frantically in all directions. Nathan led him over to a stool by the front counter and called to George as he carried a plate of waffles out of the kitchen. “George, can I grab Austin here a glass of milk?”

  George shrugged his shoulder. “You know where it is,” he mumbled.

  Nathan opened the door to the fridge behind the counter. “Okay, Austin, tell me again what happened on your way here. You saw Mr. Henry walking down the street …” On his way into the diner Nathan had found a young panicked Austin sitting on the park bench almost in tears.

  “We were supposed to meet here for breakfast. I got an A on a test at school and Mr. Henry said he’d treat me to Mama Lucy’s waffles. I stopped him on the street but he didn’t see me. The other man did though. Mama says it’s not good to talk to strangers so I didn’t say anything, but he was scary.” Tears filled the young boy’s eyes as he reached for the glass of milk Nathan set on the counter.

  Austin gulped back the milk.

  “I’m sure Mr. Henry was just really tired. I heard his dog Skippy was pretty sick a few days ago. Maybe he’s keeping him up at night.” Nathan ruffled the boy’s hair as he squashed the images of being a father back down. He glanced over at the booth where Rachel sat, and sighed. One day.

  The bell over the door rang and Nathan glanced up in time to see Henry push the door open using his gnarled cane.

  “Well, look’it here -- looks like Henry made it on time.” George poured coffee into a mug and slid it across the table. “Boy, take this coffee over to that booth there and tell him his breakfast will be out in a few.”

  Nathan watched as Austin carefully crossed the diner to hand Henry his coffee. When he caught Henry’s wink, his brow furrowed. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with Henry. Maybe Austin mistook him for someone else.

  George slammed a coffee mug down on the counter. “Well, boy, seems we’ve got a bit of an issue here. There’s some funny business going on and I don’t like it. What are you planning on doing to stop it?”

  Nathan took a step back.

  “What exactly am I stopping?” He raised his hands in the air and shrugged. “Henry seems fine to me. Perhaps Austin is overreacting. You know how boys can be.”

  George glared. Nathan hated it when George did that. He felt like a school boy about to get his hand slapped for looking at the teacher the wrong way.

  “What I know is some strange things are happening and I know God ain’t happy,” George grumbled. “What I know is for some reason my Lucy didn’t see the man you saw here in my diner last night. What I know is you keep running in circles when it comes to the calling God has on your life. And let me tell you, boy, I’m getting tired of seeing you make the same mistakes. Reminds me of my dog chasing its tail.”

  Nathan’s jaw dropped. George was the one man Nathan knew would always be there for him, supporting him and offering a listening ear when Nathan needed it. Not once since his wife died had George confronted him like this.

  “Well, George--”

  “Don’t bother trying to explain. I’ve had enough of all your silly excuses and explanations. Mood swings are fine for children, but you are a grown man. When you’re beaten down, act like a man. Swing back. There’s always a season for sorrow and questioning. I reckon God ain’t too afraid of our questions and He’ll even give us a bit of leeway when we need them. Yours have gone on for long enough.” George crossed his arms. “Step up and be the man God made you to be instead of the boy you used to be.” George turned away and headed back to the kitchen.

  “Now go on over and give my Lucy a big hug. You scared her last night and she didn’t sleep a wink. Which means I didn’t either,” George called over his shoulder.

  Nathan reached across the counter for the mug George had left and filled it with coffee from the pot sitting on the electric warmer. Sure, he was mad at God. Why wouldn’t he be? God let his wife and unborn child die. But that was in the past. Every man made a course change in their life one time or another. Just because he used to be a pastor didn’t mean he always had to be one. Didn’t mean he wanted to be one either.

  Why believe in a God who didn’t believe in you?

  *****

  Lucy couldn’t figure out George this morning. She heard the tongue-lashing he’d given Nathan. Everyone in the diner had heard. It’d been a long time coming, but that didn’t excuse his gruffness. The man was cranky and she hated to see George in that mood. She relied on him to be her rock, but it looked like both men were prickly.

  “How are my two favorite ladies doing this morning?” Nathan sat in the booth beside Rachel and took her hand in his.

  “Better, now that you’re here.” The smile on Rachel’s face warmed Lucy’s heart. The girl deserved to be treated like a queen and she had no doubt Nathan was the man to do it, once he let go of his anger. Until then...Lucy shook her head. Everyone had their own personal journey to follow.

  George laid out plates of freshly made waffles covered with strawberries on the table. For Rachel, George added some whipped cream on the side. He tended to indulge Rachel in her sweet tooth whenever he could. Lucy gave George’s hand a squeeze before he turned away.

  “Honey, would you mind bringing over a pot of coffee? I think we’re going to need it. None of that decaf stuff you try to sneak on me, you hear?” Lucy said. George’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled at her.

  She turned her attention to Nathan. She needed to know he could handle her next words. She’d minded her thoughts for a while now, waiting for the right moment. After George’s lashing earlier, adding her own two cents wouldn’t hurt. She just prayed he was ready for it.

  “Honey, last night you plum scared me. I couldn’t sleep all night ‘cause I was so worried. I think something’s going on and its time you paid attention.”

  Nathan dropped his head onto his hands and sighed. Raking one hand through his hair, he glanced over at Rachel. “I am paying attention.”

  “Are you?” Lucy had no doubt in her mind what he thought he saw was a demon. But only he could acknowledge that.

  “I’m not blind. I know what I saw.” Nat
han leaned back and took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t understand it. Why me? I’m a nobody. Certainly not a threat. So why would I be seeing demons and not you?” He pushed his coffee cup away. “Don’t tell me God is trying to get my attention. He had it years ago and He walked away from me, not the other way around.”

  Off to the side a ‘harrumph’ sounded.

  “What did I tell you earlier, boy?” George said. “You should be thanking those lucky stars of yours God hasn’t given up on you yet. Instead of loving you the way He does and putting up with your foolishness, He should be giving you a good time out like the young parents today do. Why, in my day you would have been taken out to the old woodshed--”

  “It’s a good thing your parents aren’t around to hear you say this,” Lucy said, interrupting him. “Your parents didn’t even have a woodshed, you old grump.”

  “Harrumph,” George grunted as he turned away. The bell on the diner’s front door jingled, alerting him to a new customer’s arrival.

  The three occupants of the booth sat in silence for a minute. Lucy waited for Nathan to speak first. Rachel only bowed her head.

  Nathan grabbed his coffee cup again, took a sip and set the cup back down on the table with a thud. “I lost my wife and child. Where was God on that night? I’ve moved on. I can’t forget what happened, but it’s in the past. I’m ready to move forward with my life. Doesn’t mean I have to ask God to hold my hand while I do it. I don’t trust him. Not anymore. I don’t think I ever will.”

  “Then I feel sorry for you,” Rachel whispered. A sheen of unshed tears welled in her eyes and an unrecognized anger welled up inside of Lucy.

  “You can’t blame God for what happened to you. Those were man-made choices, not God-ordained ones.” Lucy clenched her fist as she struggled to keep her voice low and level.

  Nathan shook his head. “There was no reason for Sue to veer off the road that night. She grew up in these mountains. I don’t care what anyone says. She didn’t just drive off the side of Crow Mountain. She was killed. God could have protected her. Where were her angels that night? They did nothing to protect her. Nothing.”

  Nathan pushed himself away from the table and stood. Lucy reached her hand out to stop him, but before she could, a scream erupted from outside the diner window.

  *****

  The squeal of brakes along with the blast of a pickup truck’s horn blared as Nathan ran out of the diner to find a truck resting on a curb against a light post.

  Momentarily blinded by the sun as it rose over the mountains, he shielded his eyes and took in the scene. A woman stood in the park, her arm outstretched as her finger pointed to the middle of the empty street. She continued to scream. Rachel passed him as he stood on the sidewalk and headed into the park towards the woman. He then rushed over to the truck and yanked open the driver’s side door.

  The man’s body trembled as Nathan urged him out of the truck and over to a park bench. Steam rose from under the hood lid. The old light post didn’t have a dent while the hood of the truck was at an odd angle.

  “I didn’t hit him. Where did he go? How did I not hit him?” The stranger moaned, leaned forward and hung his head between his legs.

  “You didn’t hit anyone! Sir, look at me, there’s no one there.” Nathan glanced around but didn’t see anyone hurt. He focused his attention on the visitor before him. Must be an out-of-towner.

  Lucy came over with a hot cup of coffee and handed it to the overwhelmed man. Nathan reached for her arm and led her a few feet away from the bench.

  “Lucy, this man thinks he hit someone.” Nathan lowered his voice so the man wouldn’t hear.

  Lucy looked at Nathan in confusion. “The woman with Rachel is saying the same thing. A man in black stood there, in the middle of the road. Moments before they hit him, she screamed. Thank God she did.”

  Nathan shook his head. “There’s no man dressed in black around here.”

  Lucy turned around and scanned the street both ways. She shrugged her shoulders and she turned back to face Nathan. The look on her face did little to appease his apprehension.

  “George is calling the sheriff and the ambulance. Try and find out more information from the driver if you can. It could be the same man you saw last night.”

  “Yeah, but you never saw him. How do we know the guy was real?” Nathan said.

  Lucy pursed her lips. “Rachel mentioned a tale that’s been resurrected. About evil taking form. There might be more to this than I originally thought.” She shook her head and slowly turned away.

  That wasn’t good enough for Nathan. Demonic crows, folklore in physical form, this was too much for him. “What the hell is going on?”

  Chapter Nine

  Later in the day, Nathan stood in the middle of his kitchen. Why did he come home? There was nothing here to draw him.

  He walked through his empty house, thankful for the white noise of the radio in the background and paused at the one door that had stayed closed since the day Sue died. He reached his hand out, watched as it faltered before it fell back down to his side. He stood there for a few moments with his head bowed before bending forward and resting his forehead against the door.

  “Why? Why God? I can forgive anything, but not that.”

  Nathan stood that way before he exhaled and stepped backwards. Every day he tried to open the door and to step inside. Every day at the last moment he wouldn’t, couldn’t, open the door. He wasn’t ready yet to face those inner demons.

  He headed towards his study and sat in his chair. Nathan loved his study. He picked up a book and reread the first page for the fourth time before setting the book down.

  The look of horror on the visitor’s face as he stared at the empty road was all he could think about. He could imagine what went through the guy’s mind. The same thoughts that went through his own last night. Was his mind playing games, imagining things that weren’t there? Over reacting to a nightmare? Was he going crazy with anger?

  Nathan sighed. He knew what he saw, knew what he experienced.

  It didn’t matter what George and Lucy thought. It was God’s fault for Sue’s death. The road conditions were pristine. It was a beautiful night and she was on her way home from a friend’s house. She knew the mountain roads like the back of her hand and would never speed through the windy trails.

  Especially being pregnant. Keeping their child safe was all that mattered to Sue. She would never purposefully kill herself and their child. Never.

  He knew all the platitudes, all the right things to say. He used to be a pastor. Of course he knew what scriptures to quote and what words to pray. Didn’t mean they were real, or even true.

  He wasn’t ready to admit that it wasn’t God’s fault for what happened to him. It should be God’s fault. Nathan gave up everything for him. Sacrificed everything.

  Nathan’s hand fisted and he punched down on the arm of his chair. He even sacrificed his mother, all in the name of God.

  This time there was no sacrificial lamb to the rescue.

  No. God could shout it from the rooftops. Send an angel to stop him in his tracks. Visit him face to face. Didn’t matter. Demons or not, folklore be damned, Nathan didn’t want to hear God’s reasonings.

  Chapter Ten

  Nathan perused the books on his shelves. Maybe now was the time to get rid of some of the stuff he would never use again. His Biblical Thesaurus, Greek translations and references weren’t for the everyday life. Jim, the interim pastor they brought in to cover Nathan’s absence after he stepped down could probably use them.

  On the top shelf were some old books he’d inherited from the previous pastor, next to the box of journals found in Sue’s vehicle on the night of her death. The box had been taped shut when he received it and it remained that way today. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to read his wife’s inner thoughts. What if he found the truth to her death? What if she did kill herself?

  He blocked off those thoughts. She didn’t. She wouldn�
�t. She couldn’t. Not with their child in her womb.

  Nathan reached for the old books and set the bulk of five on his desk. The top one was an old black leather journal, creases covering the spine and front cover. As he opened the first page he wrinkled his nose as a musty smell wafted from the open pages.

  “Dated July 20, 1901: My first day as the spiritual head for the townsfolk of Bandit Creek. This is a God-ordained position that will not accept failure. I eagerly anticipate a transition from Reverend Somer to myself, trusting that the Reverend has prepared his flock to receive a new spiritual head. I have been adequately warned regarding the history of this town and understand the grave duty I carry. This town will not turn from the glory of the Lord while under my watchful eye. I know the signs, understand the temperament of an unhealthy church and will not allow this to happen again.”