Unclean Spirit (14 page)

CHAPTER FIFTY

              When Mag saw the reptile slither out from behind something that looked like a lectern, he decided that he was going to get his ass up the steps in record time. He was halfway up when he heard Saul.

              "Here, Mag. Take this rifle and see if you can get it to Charlie."

              Mag had absolutely no desire to go back down the steps, but he reached back and grabbed hold of the gun.

              "Charlie," Mag called out as unobtrusively as possible, "have gun. Tell me what do."

              Charlie, drenched with sweat and wishing like hell he had the gun and a bottle of Cuervo Gold in his hands, watched the snake as it coiled up not five feet from him. She-it! Charlie thought to himself, that sucker's gittin ready to strike!

              "Can ya shoot that rifle, Mr. Mag?" Charlie asked with tremendous hope.

              "Can shoot, but can't aim worth shit!" Mag admitted.

              "Well then, yer gonna have to bring it to me."

              "Was afraid of that, Charlie."

              Mag chose his steps very carefully as he made his way down the stairs and toward Charlie. He, too, was saturated with sweat but, unlike Charlie, he wished not for a bottle of tequila; Mag wished he had never left Hungary. 

              "Mr. Mag, I don't dare move much so yer gonna need to git right up behind me."

              Narancsíz! thought Mag. This just gets better and better!

              Saul had gone out to his Bronco to retrieve his medical bag, in which he kept a small supply of antivenom. God forbid he would have to use it. He was hurrying back into the house when he heard the sound of a rifle shot.

              By the time Charlie had the rifle in hand, the lead-snake had been joined by a herd of its compatriots. Charlie knew that he would be unable to kill them all but, as it turned out, that really didn't matter.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

              The crack of the rifle blast was deafening in the confines of the cellar. Charlie's shot popped the head clean off the foremost serpent. He was preparing to shoot another viper when he realized that he didn't need to--they all lay dead on the floor.

              "What the fuck?" Charlie couldn't believe his eyes.

              "That's three," Mag pronounced.

              Mag had his fill of snakes, so he waited in the kitchen while Charlie and Saul, wearing nearly impenetrable cowboy boots and armed with guns, work-gloves and flashlights, searched for any remaining viable reptiles and placed the dead ones in heavy-duty garbage bags. Saul was more than glad that no living snakes were to be found anywhere; he was repulsed by the act of picking up the dead ones. When he thought about it later, he realized that all of the dead snakes were in the immediate vicinity of the pulpit that sat in the center of the basement floor.

              While Charlie and Saul were cleaning up, Marybeth and her group were on the road to Van Horn.

              "Jeez," Marybeth said to her fellow travelers, "did you guys see that huge, dead snake on the side of the road?" Penelope apparently had because she let loose a wail that sent a shutter through everyone in the car.

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

              The three men sat around the kitchen table downing tequila shooters. It had taken three apiece to finally settle the shaking hands and legs.

              "That pulpit in the cellar, could there be any relationship between it and what's happening?" Saul directed his question to Mag. "After all, that's where all the snakes were."

              "Is possible," Mag answered. "Are such things as diabolically charged objects. As you know, are those individuals who believe in blessed objects. Such items--oils, clothing, holy water--are purported to have been blessed, directly or indirectly, by God and, as result, have certain curative and/or protective powers. Diabolically charged objects are opposite extreme: Have been tainted by the demonic and carry the residue of its presence and malevolence.

              "What you know about pulpit?"

              "Nothing, really," Saul replied, "only that Lukas Duncan, a minister here in town, brought it to Paul to refurbish. 

              "Do you know anything else about it, Charlie?"

              "Only thing I know 'bout it is I ain't goin' nowheres near it again!"

              "Mag," Saul inquired, "where do we go from here?"

              "Back to basement."

              "Aw, she-it!" Charlie was not a happy cowpoke. "No fuckin' way am I goin' back down there!"

              And so Charlie stayed up top this time while Mag and Saul revisited the cellar. Aside from a peculiar dankness, the men did not perceive anything unusual about their environs. Mag wanted to get a good look at the pulpit so he headed straight for it. Despite the fact that Saul was wary of going near the structure again, he joined his friend.

              "Interesting," Mag commented as he studied the pulpit, "appears to be genuine antique. Am no expert, but rarely see this type workmanship anymore. Had beautifully detailed things like this in old country. Perhaps is European in origin."

              Saul could see what Mag meant. Although worn and badly in need of attention, the old pulpit displayed intricately carved scrollwork. In addition, Saul could tell that it was constructed of tiger oak, a wood that could be exquisite in appearance if properly cared for. It was obvious to Saul that Paul had begun his work on the podium, he could see a small area at its base that Paul had sanded. Saul didn't know anything about furniture restoration, but it seemed odd to him that Paul would have used a sander on tiger oak.

              "Hey, Mag, take a look at these letters. Looks like X-P-I-S...that's all I can see. Maybe it's how the craftsman signed his work. What do you think?"

              Mag examined the base of the pulpit. When he stood back up, his face was visibly drained of blood.

              "Mother of God," Mag mumbled.

              "What is it, Mag? What's wrong? Are there more snakes?"

              "No, no snakes. Worse. Must sit down." Mag walked shakily to the stairs and sat down on the bottom step.

              "Goddamnit, Mag! What the fuck is it?" Saul was more frightened than impatient.

              "I can't be sure," Mag had once again lapsed into grammatically correct English, "not until all the letters have been revealed, but I fear that what is written there is 'XPISTOS'."

              Saul wasn't so sure he wanted to know, but he asked just the same, "And that means...?"

              Mag looked straight into Saul's eyes. "Antichrist."

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

              While Patsy and Lukas discussed Paul, Marybeth zoned out and found herself reminiscing about things that hadn't crossed her mind in years. Her parents had died in a car crash many years ago, leaving her extremely wealthy. Marybeth remembered how shocked she had been when the family attorney had notified her that her folks had left everything to her. Perhaps they had actually loved her after all. At any rate, it was the Warriner money that had afforded the Forsythe family the opportunity to move out into the boonies and live their lives quietly and comfortably. Sure, they could have lived in grand style anywhere in the world but their values had not been usurped by the allure of the riches money could buy. Marybeth, Patsy, Tamara, and Paul lived in Van Horn because they cherished peace, tranquility, and relationships untainted by greed. Thanks to Marybeth's parents, the same individuals who had thrown her out of the house when she had professed her love for Patsy, the Forsythe family would be financially secure forever after.

              As Marybeth’s reverie continued, Benjamin's face intruded upon her thoughts. Sweet, adorable Benjamin.  Prior to coming to terms with her homosexuality, Marybeth had spent a couple of her teenage years screwing every little rich boy her parents threw at her. One of these dalliances had resulted in pregnancy. Needless to say, Mr. and Mrs. Warriner did their best to convince their daughter to have an abortion but Marybeth was stalwart in her refusal to terminate the little life. So, as behooves any parents who value appearance above all else, the Warriners sent Marybeth to Switzerland for the last five months of her pregnancy. When she returned with her infant, the Warriners would tell their friends that they had adopted a baby. That had been the plan. Unfortunately, plans often fizzle into "could've beens."

              Marybeth's labor had been difficult and the infant was born prematurely and with the umbilical cord wrapped around his little neck. Although the doctors and nurses had done their best to save the newborn, their efforts were unsuccessful and tiny Benjamin died at the age of twelve hours.             

              Marybeth, despite her own physical exhaustion, had sat vigil at her child's crib. Finally, realizing that the infant would not survive, the doctors placed Benjamin in Marybeth's arms, which is where he stayed until he took his last Lilliputian breath.             

              Marybeth had been a child herself then, but that did not prevent her from experiencing a mother's grief. She blamed herself then for Benjamin's death and she blamed herself still.

              "Hey, M.B., where are you?" Patsy asked the question, but she already knew the answer--she had seen that faraway look on her love's face before and she knew that Benjamin had invaded Marybeth's thoughts.

              "Huh?"

              "Earth to Marybeth! Snap out of it, girl, we'll be home soon."

              Lukas listened to the exchange between Patsy and Marybeth as he stroked Penelope's soft fur. He felt fine now and was anxious to get home to his family. There was, though, something nagging at him, something he couldn't quite get a handle on, something about serpents and crosses and...death.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

The Fifth Night

              It had been a long day for Paul. The echocardiogram and EEG hadn't required any effort on his part, but Paul was unaccustomed to inactivity so lying still for assorted examinations had been trying for him. Starr and Tamara had left for the day which was just as well because Paul was feeling cranky. His head hurt, his leg hurt, and his back ached from being in bed so much. And if one more nurse came in to check his pupillary responses he would just scream!

              It was still early evening but Paul drifted off to sleep and, although no one was around to see it, his physical form gently rose and hovered briefly above his bed.             

              Saul and Mag had tried to convince Charlie to stay the night at Saul's house, but to no avail. Charlie was expecting "Puss and Dick" and he wanted to have a decent meal ready for them. As Saul pulled the Bronco away from the ranch, Mag gazed back toward the house and saw Cooter drag his blanket off the porch and into the barn.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

              Lillie hadn't been expecting Lukas so she was surprised when Patsy and Marybeth dropped him off.

              "What's wrong? What are you doing home so soon? Where's the truck?" Lillie was concerned, so her questions came in rapid succession.

              "Slow down," Lukas implored, "I'm okay. I think I had a touch of the flu while I was in El Paso so I left the truck with Tamara and Starr and bummed a ride back with Patsy and Marybeth."

              "Why didn't you call me? I swear, you can be such a turd sometimes!

              "Are you really all right now? Should I call Dr. Feener?"

              "I'm fine, Lill. I didn't call because I knew you would just worry. And no, there's no need to call Saul Feener. I just want to take a long, hot bath, then I'll tell you about my trip to El Paso.

              "Where're the boys?"

              Lukas didn't look ill so Lillie believed him when he said he was fine.

              "Sleepover at Tony Miranda's house. They'll be back in the morning.

              "You bathe and I'll warm-up some homemade chicken soup for you."

              Once his body was clean and his belly full, Lukas told Lillie the truth of what had transpired in El Paso. He even went so far as to share with his wife the evil countenance that he had perceived in Paul.

              "Oh, for heaven's sake, Lukas! You had to have been feverish and you know how wacky you get when your temperature is too high. Either that or you've been reading too many Stephen King novels!"

              "Yeah, hon, I suppose you're right."

              Charlie, determined to treat Pu...Marybeth and Patsy with more respect, had prepared a dinner of ham steak and red potatoes. The ladies, surprised and grateful, ate the meal with gusto. Charlie had even set a dish of Albacore tuna out for Penelope but, much to everyone's surprise, she wouldn't touch it. In fact, she would not even stay in the kitchen at all.

              "That's odd," commented Patsy, "Pen loves tuna. Wonder what's up with her? Guess she misses Starr."

              "Could be," offered Charlie, "but I 'spect it's 'cause of the snakes."

              "WHAT SNAKES?" Marybeth and Patsy exclaimed in unison.

              And so Charlie explained about the reptiles, and about everything else that had been going on at the ranch.

              "God, Charlie, this is too weird." And so Patsy told Charlie about everything that had been going on with Paul.

              "I knowed I shoulda been goin' to church reglur!" Charlie admitted as he opened his bottle of Johnny Walker Red.