The
choir sang “How Great Thou Are” the congregation stood in tradition, just as
their father’s and mother’s had before them. At least I assumed it was their
tradition, it seemed like something that would be a tradition in a church. The
morning sun illuminated the stained glass depiction of Christ crucified in
brilliant colors casting a reverence upon the macabre scene. All along the walls of the cathedral stood
edifices of stories told throughout the bible, a statue of the Mother Mary,
stained glass depictions of the fall of the Garden of Eden. Along the wall to
my right stood seven statues of saints and surrounding each statue a stained
glass depiction of the great stories taught in Sunday-School. Moses and the burning bush glowed with the
morning sun alongside the serpent tempting Eve in the impressive cathedral I’d
not expect to find this the small town in eastern Oklahoma.
I
had been invited to attend the christening of my friend’s first child, an odd
request considering I had only kept a distant connection with them over the
last few years. We had slowly lost touch after Dan and Connie moved away from
our hometown to the small rural town of Finkton where Dan had taken a position
at a bank. That is until Dan called excited to share the news that he and
Connie were expecting their first child. We had kept in touch a little more
frequently since then with the occasional phone call or email. I was still
surprised when they asked me to attend the christening of little Sarah. I had
resigned myself to being a long distance friend and had not anticipated
anything more than an announcement card commemorating little Sarah’s arrival
into this world. Regardless of the oddity of the request that I attend the
ceremony I’d accepted without a second thought. I was eager to share in the
experience of a significant event in my friend’s lives. And so here I stand
listening to a choir of Midwestern farmers and small town folk sing with all
their heart and it made me smile.
I
claim no religious predilections myself, but come from a religious home. My
father ensured that my brothers and I attended services at least once a week.
According to my mother it was for the best that we attend since we had so much
of our father in us. I hadn’t understood what she had meant until my first
semester of university which heralded my introduction too Gentleman Jack
Daniels. It was the beginning of a tumultuous relationship that has to my great
shame haunted me to this day. I remember asking my father one Sunday morning
why I needed to go to church? I explained that I had attended all my school
lessons without complaint, completed all of my homework and even did all my
weekly chores. I hadn’t even said the “S” word. A word I had been particularly
proud of learning from the pharmacist’s son Bobby who lived at the end of the
block. I vividly remember my father’s look, sad and slightly ashamed. He said
“Church is for those who need to be there, to keep them on the right track. If
you miss just once you can end up in a whole heap of trouble.”
Sitting in the pew brought back
memories of my childhood, of feet dangling in the uncomfortable shiny shoes
Mother required my brothers and I to wear, of Pastor Rothmire saying “Amen” far
too often and of Dan, doodling in the sketch book his mother always brought to
keep him in the seat. This chapel’s dusty smell of aging wood and stone, the
sound of the choir singing in harmony as the congregation stood was as inviting
as an old friend could be. Dan and Connie were seated in the front row just
three pews up from me; I don’t think I can remember a time when Dan looked so
happy. Not even when he told me that Connie had said yes to his proposal, the
smile he carried then held nothing in comparison to the pride and joy now
displayed across his smiling visage.
The minister walked somberly to the
pulpit and nodded towards Dan and Connie who shuffled their little bundle about
until Connie held her. I watched as the couple approached the ornate table, set
just below the pulpit. It had been draped in a thick red wine colored cloth. Connie
placed Sarah on the altar and knelt along with Dan who had already bowed his
head reverently but couldn’t help but look up at every movement and noise Sarah
made. The minister walked down from the stage to stand between the pulpit and
altar and faced the crowd as the music continued to play as little Sarah
wiggled and squirmed on the wine colored cloth.
The choir reached the crescendo in harmony
as something wet landed on my cheek. I look up expecting to find a leak or
condensation from a pipe cooling the building. Instead I see a mist of black
soot shifting and pulsing. Lightning flashed silently in the dark mass
illuminating a fire burning within the shifting fog. The fire inside burned
like that of an erupting volcano belching and pushing ever further out in gasps
and exhales of smoke and fire. I look around me to the congregation who stood
completely oblivious to the strange manifestation now hanging just feet above
us all. I begin to shout out the danger when a scream the likes I’ve never
heard came from above. The cloud of smoke and lightning rolls back revealing a
figure consumed in flames. Its skin completely burned away exposing muscle and
sinew, teeth and bone. Lidless eyes dart from person to person as the screams
of the tortured soul forces its way through exposed clenched teeth.
From the pulpit the priest stands
with outstretched arms towards the fiery being, the choir sings louder raising
their arms just as the priest had. I watched as the skin on their outstretched
arms begin to burn and boil. The priest held out his hands towards the being,
chanting in a guttural language I could not nor want to understand. Above us
the burning being now exposed fully from the smoke that lingered behind his
burning form screamed as it moved slowly towards the small alter that stood in
front of the minister. Lightning streaking from one end of the ceiling towards
the other scorching stone leaving me blinded for a moment. As my vision cleared
I watched in horror as Dan and Connie turned on their knees with hands raised
towards the burning human like creature. To my horror and shame I stood
paralyzed as the creature descended floating slowly over the congregation. As
it passes over me I clearly see the exposed heart of the creature beating in the
burning cavity in its chest. Beat after beat the exposed heart pumped fire
through the body of the creature until the flames found an escape through one
of the many exposed veins on the skinless monster.
I watch as those around me lift
their heads and hands towards the floating creature chanting “Blessed be the
flames. Blessed be the flames. Blessed be the flames” in whispered reverence. Euphoria
showed on every face I saw. Tears evaporate from the blistering skin of some as
they stretched their arms out towards the being. The creature’s intent became
clear as it descended and stretched its burning arms towards little Sarah.
Panic, along with some primal rage welled up inside me. I found strength from
somewhere inside me and willed my legs forward. I was moving before my mind
could truly register what my intent was. I rush past Dan and Connie who both
had tears streaming from their eyes and seemed lost in a haze. Their skin
blistered and boiled but neither seemed to notice or care about the pain. I
scooped up Sarah and ran as fast as I my legs would carry me. Screams echoed
along the walls from the burning creature. A change in tone could not be
mistaken for anything other than anger caused me to tremble in fear as I ran.
I sprint past the rows of pews as
those standing in the congregation turn and reach out to stop me. I place one
hand over little Sarah who began to cry trying protect her from the grasping
hands of those I rushed through. I turn slightly to my side as I hit the crash
bar on the exit door sending a searing pain through my hip and shoulder and
bolt into the spring sunlight. I quickly glance back at the small chapel, the
darkness of the mist and the flash of lightning still erupted inside. Through
the walls of the building I felt the tremors in my chest before the ground
beneath me started to quake. I dash for my Mustang cradling the crying child as
best I can. With no time to find a safe way to place the tiny child in the car,
I nestle her into my left arm and slide into the car starting the engine and
back out of the parking space as fast as I can. As I shift into first gear I
have a clear view of the chapel and the hundred or so people now streaming out
of the doors waving burned arms and hands at me as I speed away.
I wind my way through the neighborhood
trying to retrace the route I had taken to reach the chapel just an hour
earlier. To my great surprise and relief I find the exit to the highway with
ease and pull out onto the open road. I put my foot to the floor and open up
the big V8 engine determined to put as many miles between us and the demon in
the chapel as I can. Half an hour later with no signs of police or any demonic
storm overhead my mind begins to try and process what just happened. An
epiphany occurs as I pass a billboard for a local casino. I just kidnapped an
infant, even if I go to the police or a hospital where the child could be cared
for, the child won’t be safe. It won’t take long before Dan and Connie to
contact the authorities and I’ll be hunted down, arrested for kidnapping at a
christening. No one in their right mind will believe me, a floating demon in a
cloud of lightning and fire? No, I will be hunted and if they find me they will
find Sarah. If they find Sarah they will give her to the Demon, I can’t let
that happen. Looking down at the tiny child now resting quietly in my arm
sucking her little thumb fast asleep, I knew I couldn’t let that happen.
I pull into a gas station with a
sign for an ATM, adjust the baby as best I can and try not to wake her as I
place her head on my shoulder and head inside. No one inside the store paid any
attention to us. If they did they most likely would have assumed she was my
child. After all, how often do you see a man with a kidnapped child? I fumble
with my wallet as I pull out my bank card and withdraw everything I can from
the machine making multiple transactions. I switch to a credit card and make as
many cash advance withdraws as it allows as well. I repeat the process until
I’ve depleted every source of cash I can and just hope that I can reach my
savings tomorrow before a judge orders my accounts frozen. I purchased a small
milk and an ice tea and return to my car.
I pull out onto the highway trying
carefully to shift gears and hold Sarah who looked up at me with inquisitive
and judging eyes. I most likely am projecting my fears onto those deep dark
wells in her eyes, but still I have a serious dilemma. Turn myself in and watch
Sarah returned to her family and the demonic creature that I have no doubt Dan
and Connie would again offer her up too. Or I can choose to run, run and not
stop. I look down at little Sarah, wrapped in my arm the dilemma vanishes.
“What do you think of Mexican food?”
I ask the sleeping child.
I shift
into fifth gear and pour fuel into the engine as we shift lanes.
“I hear it’s not so bad in some
parts, I think I can learn to speak Spanish. What about you?”
Sarah
answered only by opening her big dark eyes and stretching her tiny arms.
