After Life (27 page)

Lord, he lamented. And for that I am most dearly sorry.

Jessie reached out and found his face. She moved the tips of her

fingers over his cheeks and felt his tears We should hurry, he

whispered. I have brought the holy water.

Yes. She turned herself out of the bed and he went to the doorway to

stand guard until she got dressed.

When she was ready, he took her hand and brought her to the door.

Wait, he cautioned. One of the nurses at the station began to come

their way. Fortunately she turned into another room about halfway down

and all looked clear Father Rush stepped forward and led Jessie down the

corridor toward the elevator. When the doors opened they stepped in and

he pressed the button for the floor on which the intensive-care unit was

located.

The head nurse will wonder what I'm doing back there, Jessie cautioned.

There's been a shift change by now. It will be a new head nurse.

They got out and went to the doors of intensive care As Father Rush had

predicted, there was a new head nurse on duty, and she knew him well.

Good evening, Laurie, Father Rush began. You have a Mr. Overstreet

here?

Yes, Father. From the way Laurie Smith looked at Jessie and then

quizzically at him, the priest knew she had been told about her

Everything's fine now, he said quickly. I've volunteered to escort Mrs.

Overstreet here to see her husband.

We want to pray at his bedside. If that's all right with you, he added

diplomatically.

Oh. Of course, Father. Right this way.

How is my husband? Jessie asked. Has there been any change?

I'm sorry, no. But his vital signs remain good, she added.

We can be thankful for that, Father Rush said.

We'll be all right, he whispered when they arrived at Lee's bedside.

Laurie Smith looked at Jessie again and then nodded. As soon as she

walked off, the priest took out his bottle of holy water.

I'm going to encircle your husband's bed, he told Jessie. She took

Lee's hand in hers and waited while the priest went around, offering a

prayer in Latin as he sprinkled the holy water. Then he sprinkled some

over Lee. After that, he joined with Jessie and they both bowed their

heads to pray. But before they were finished, Jessie heard those

now-all-too-familiar footsteps.

Michael, I should have known you would do some thing like this, Dr.

Beezly said as he came up behind them. Jessie and Father Rush stood up

and turned his way, Jessie clinging tightly to the priest. You've been

a naughty little clergyman, Michael. He waved his right forefinger as

if he were talking to a bad littleboy.

You have my nurses downstairs quite frantic. Really, Michael, stealing

away a patient like this. He clicked his lips and shook his head.

You're the one who's been stealing people away, Father Rush replied.

Oh no. Don't tell me you're listening to anything this woman says,

Michael. Dr. Beezly grimaced and shook his head. She's in the midst

of a serious nervous breakdown he said as Laurie Smith came up beside

him.

Is anything wrong, Doctor' she asked.

I'm afraid Father Rush has gone beyond the call of duty, Laurie. He has

taken Mrs. Overstreet out of her room where she had been restrained for

her own good and brought her up here without the nurses on the floor

knowing.

Oh dear, the nurse said.. "Y had no idea.

Of course you didn't. Who would think our good Father Rush capable of

anything evil? Dr. Beezly smiled.

You would certainly, Father Rush said sharply. Dr Beezly's smile faded

quickly. His eyes became cold sharp, and his lips tightened into a

pencil-thin line. Then his smile returned, only this time it was

chilling, more like the grimace drawn on the face of a corpse by the

hand of death itself.

You will be so good as to take Mrs. Overstreet back to her room please,

Father Rush, he commanded.

Mrs. Overstreet doesn't want to go back to that room She doesn't need

any of your treatments, Doctor.

I can't force her to listen, Dr. Beezly said. But you're making a

mistake and doing her a terrible disservice by encouraging her

hallucinations. In any case I have to examine my patient.

Of course, Father Rush replied, and pulled Jessie gently to the side.

She tightened her grip on his hand.

Her heart beganto pound in anticipation.

Father . . .

as he came up behind them. Jessie and Father Rush stood up and turned

his way, Jessie clinging tightly to the priest. You've been a naughty

little clergyman, Michael. He waved his right forefinger as if he were

talking to a bad littleboy.

It's all right, he whispered.

Dr. Beezly watched them suspiciously for a moment and then started

toward the bed. He stopped abruptly a foot away and brought his hands

to his face as if he had gotten too close to a blazing fire. Then he

moaned.

Are you all right, Doctor? Laurie Smith asked quickly.

Yes, are you all right? Father Rush chorused.

What's happening? Jesse demanded.

Dr. Beezly isn't feeling well himself, Father Rush said.

Beezly lowered his hands from his face and backed away. His skin looked

sunburned. His mouth twisted up into his cheek and his eyes blazed in

rage.

Doctor? Laurie Smith said. She pressed her hand against her bosom and

stepped away from him.

You've made a tragic mistake interfering with me, Michael, the doctor

said in a loud whisper.

I think not, Dr. Beezly. In fact, I think it would have been a tragic

mistake had I not, Father Rush replied.

Beezly glared at him a moment and then made a second attempt to approach

Lee. This time he pulled his hand back as if he had touched an inferno.

He groaned in fury.

Doctor? Laurie Smith said, coming to his side.

It's all right, Beezly muttered, rubbing his hand.

I've forgotten something. I'll return, he added, and quickly turned to

walk out of the intensive-care unit.

They watched him pound his way down the floor and out the double doors.

He's gone. Father Rush released the air he held in his lungs. The Lord

be praised.

But he will return, Jessie warned. We must get to the cemetery.

The cemetery? Why? Father Rush asked.

To lock the door. Please, take me there and bring your holy water,

Jesse pleaded.

What's going on here? Laurie Smith asked, her face twisted with

confusion. Cemetery? Holy water? What happened to Dr. Beezly? I

don't understand.

You don't have to understand. Just don't move my husband from this bed,

Jessie commanded, or you will bring about his death for sure. No matter

what Dr. Beezly asks. Please. Anyway, he's not my doctor.

Laurie looked at Father Rush.

Not her doctor?

That's correct. I'm asking on Mrs. Overstreet's behalf, too, Laurie.

There is nothing wrong with this woman other than that she suffers from

blindness. She doesn't want Dr. Beezly treating her husband. Is that

clear?

Well . . . I . . . what should we do in case- Call Dr. Ross. Tell

him Mrs. Overstreet would like him to take over her husband's case.

I'll vouch for everything that's been said here.

Okay. Laurie Smith shrugged. I certainly don't want to get involved in

any doctor-patient spats.

Thank you, Father Rush said.

We should hurry, Jessie whispered. Father Rush started to lead her

away. Wait, she said, turning back toward Lee. She made her way to the

bed and found his hand. She held it to her lips and then placed it

gently at his side, stroking his hair as she did so. Father Rush came

up beside her.

He'll be all right, he said.

Yes. Soon As soon as we get to the cemetery and make sure Beezly can't

have his way, Jessie replied, and they left the intensive-care unit as

quickly as they could.

No one interfered with their leaving the hospital. Father Rush led

Jessie to his car in the parking lot. Then they drove off into the

night.

About four months ago, Father Rush said as they drove toward the

cemetery, a man in town came to me to complain about how his son had

changed. The boy had been in a motorcycle accident and had nearly died.

Dr. Beezly had treated him?

Yes. The man wasn't a regular churchgoer. He was raising the boy on

his own ever since his wife had died.

Up to that time he hadn't had serious problems with his son. Oh, he was

a bit of a Huckleberry Finn, just like the rest of the boys his age in

this town, but he began to degenerate rapidly--stealing, drinking,

smoking dope, staying out until all hours of the night. That sort of

thing.

He became a serious discipline problem in school, too, and the former

basketball coach, Kurt Andersen, was going to boot him off his team.

His name was Benson, Jessie said quickly.

Yes. How did you know?

She described the incident with the truck.

I should have taken him and the things he had said more seriously,

Father Rush said with regret. He insisted his son was not his son, but

Benson was drinking heavily and I attributed it to that. If I had

listened . . .

Let's hope we're not too late, Jesse said.

They were both silent for a while, each saying his private prayer. When

they arrived at the cemetery, Father Rush drove through the gate slowly.

Jessie asked him to stop.

I need to get out to listen, she said.

Okay. I have a flashlight in the glove compartment.

What are we looking for exactly? he asked after they had both gotten

out.

An open grave, Jessie said. She held his hand and signaled him to be

quiet for a moment as she focused her concentration on the dark and

gloomy surroundings.

Soon she heard the whispering. It grew louder, some of the voices

warning her, some of them urging her forward.

They know they have been violated, she suddenly said. That's what I've

heard them complaining about ever since I arrived.

Who?

The dead. Let's go forward, to the right.

She and Father Rush began to walk down one of the paths. An overcast

sky had shut out the moonlight and stars. To Father Rush the darkness

around them seemed more like fog filled with soot--grimy, thick,

all-encompassing. The thin ray of light emanating from his small

flashlight barely penetrated the dense shroud of night. It sliced the

darkness, but once they moved through it, the sheet of black fell behind

and around them with the finality of a stage curtain at the end of a

play.

Jessie hesitated and tilted her head. Someone, some decrepit soul of

the damned was wailing and scratching at the inside of its decomposing

coffin. The sound of its nails grinding along the walls of its death

cell sent chills down her back, chills that turned into slithering

snakes of ice. She squeezed Father Rush's hand tighter and stopped

again.

What is it? he asked, his own heart now pounding so hard he could

barely get up enough breath to be heard.

Directly ahead, Jessie whispered.

He lifted the flashlight and aimed its beam. Twenty yards or so in

front of them an old tombstone leaned precariously, its pale white

surface now glimmering under his light like a giant old tooth. He

lowered the beam slowly and saw the gaping hole before it.

Yes, he said in a whisper, too. The grave has been dug up.

Take us there. Quickly, Jessie ordered.

The priest moved himself and her forward, stumbling over some rocks.

When they reached the foot of the grave, he stopped and pointed his

light down. The uncovered coffin was gray with decomposition. Through

the holes that had formed like cancers in its surface, he could see the

gleaming dust of bones.

The coffin is uncovered, he said.

Is the lid still down? Jessie asked.

Yes.

Then we're not too late. The holy water, Jessie said.

Quickly. Cast it over the coffin and you will surely shut the door on

this soul from hell and keep Beezly from resurrecting it.

Yes, yes, Father Rush said, and shifted the flashlight to his other hand