After Life (29 page)

Right here, Jessie, he said, and she stepped out once more, only this

time tumbling back into the grave that now housed Father Rush's dead

body. Her scream followed her down. She just missed the handle of the

pickax, struck his shoulder and arm, and rolled back to the position she

had been in before. Miraculously she was unhurt. She groaned and

started to sit up when suddenly Father Rush's hand seized her wrist.

At first she was too tired, too exhausted and shocked to scream again.

Her body turned to ice; she didn't Hi, Jessie, he said, only he spoke in

Lee's voice.

I'm glad you've decided to come back to me. We'll lie together here for

ages and ages, and at night we'll scream with the rest of them, hoping

someone else like you will come along and hear us. Won't that be nice?

NOOOO! she cried, and with all the strength she possessed, she pried

the dead fingers off her wrist.

Not very courteous and grateful of you, Dr. Beezly said. He was at the

foot of the grave again. Do you know what cemetery space costs these

days? Plenty, believe me. It's become a lucrative business for me;

and here we are offering you one for free.

Some people, it seems, don't know what's good for them, he added, but

don't worry, we'll be sure to tell them. He laughed again. Well, I've

wasted enough time and energy here. Yes, even I am occasionally

concerned about such things. Eternity might not last forever, you know.

I mean, I'm not one to take His word for anything.

Jessie shook her head and started to struggle to her feet again, but a

shovelful of dirt hit her in the neck, some small stones in it stinging

her and driving her back.

She screamed again and then another shovelful of dirt hit her. It began

to come faster, one shovelful after another, some hitting her feet and

legs, some hitting her head. She fell against Father Rush's body,

clutching him as if she somehow hoped he would be resurrected in time to

save her from being buried alive. She seized his coat and then slid her

hands over his right shoulder and down his right arm, pulling at him and

shaking him as if she thought that might awaken him.

NO, NO, she cried.

And then her fingers found his right hand. Still clutched in it was the

bottle of holy water. A surge of hope shot through her body and made

her oblivious for the moment to the dirt that struck and pounded her

back. She clutched at the silver container, but Father Rush's fingers

had hardened like fingers of cement around it. She pried and tugged,

now with both her hands.

Oh God, she sobbed, please help me.

Father Rush's fingers softened slowly. Gradually she inched the silver

container out of his palm, and when she had it firmly in her own, she

called on all her strength and spun around to stand.

Dr. Beezly paused in his shoveling and gazed down at her.

Shall I bury you standing? he asked impishly.

With a faith that filled her voice with power, she cried, GO BACK TO THE

HELL WHERE YOU BELONG!

She whipped the holy water in his direction and heard it splat like

drops of cold water on a blazing campfire.

The sizzle instantly produced a putrid stench.

Dr. Beezly's scream seemed endless. It was so sharp and shrill she had

to cover her ears. Along with it came a chorus of piercing shrieks,

rising from beneath numerous tombstones. The symphony of hellish agony

filled the night, resembling a thousand alley cats tearing away at each

other's flesh. It ended with what sounded like a clap of thunder and

then all became deathly quiet, so still and silent that the sound of her

own heart beating against the walls of her chest now seemed thunderous.

She started to cry and the sobbing was a catharsis, freeing her of

terror and pain. When she stopped, she felt renewed and strong enough

to help herself. She found footing in the wall of the grave again and

this time pulled herself out. She rested for a moment on the cool

earth, still afraid she was not fully out of danger.

but there was nothing around her, no sounds, no sense of any being,

nothing but the solitude and stillness of a country graveyard.

Confident she was safe, she got to her feet and began a careful walk

back down the path she now could clearly sense led to the stone-arched

entrance of the cemetery.

She was nearly there when she heard a car come to a stop and then heard

some voices.

Father Rush's car is here, she heard Bob Baker say.

She paused and then she heard Tracy cry out.

There she is, Bob. There she is!

Jessie waited, anticipating some sort of new attack on her person or her

soul. She raised her arms instinctively to protect herself. In her

hand she still held the container of holy water. But Tracy Baker

quickly embraced her and held her the way a mother would hold a lost

child.

Oh, you poor dear, she cried, and brushed back Jessie's disheveled hair.

Look at you. What happened?

Why did Father Rush take you out of the hospital and bring you to the

cemetery of all places?

What happened, Jessie? Bob echoed. He was standing at Tracy's side.

Where is Father Rush?

Give me your hand, Bob, Jessie demanded instead of responding.

What?

Hold out your hand, she said, so I can feel it.

Hold out my hand? What's she talking about? Look at what she looks

like, he said to Tracy.

You're afraid to hold out your hand because you know, don't you? Jessie

said in a mad whisper. You're one of them. He is, Tracy, don't you

see? That's why he's been so different.

Different? Who's been different? Bob asked. He looked down at

Jessie's extended hand. What does she want with my hand?

Just do it, Bob. Can't you see she's terrified and hysterical.

Sure, he said, shrugging. No problem. Here's my hand, Jessie.

Jessie closed her fingers around it. She brought the container of holy

water to it and sprinkled some drops over Bob's knuckles, anticipating

the sizzle and the stench, but nothing happened.

What is she doing, washing my hand or something?

What is that, Jessie? Tracy asked. What are you putting on Bob's hand?

It's holy water, Jessie replied, confused for a moment. Father Rush

brought it.

Well, thank you for the blessing, Bob said, taking his hand from hers.

They've gone with him, Jessie realized. When I drove him away, they had

to go, too. Of course, she added, nodding. Without him, they couldn't

remain. He gave them life.

Bob shook his head at Tracy.

What in hell is she talking about? he whispered.

Poor thing, Tracy repeated. She put her arm around Jessie's shoulders.

What happened to you, Jessie?

What's been going on here?

I told you the devil had possessed the body of Dr. Beezly, she said.

Father Rush suspected it himself.

He and I kept him from doing any more to Lee. Once we surrounded him

with holy water, he was safe in the fortress of the Lord and Beezly was

unable to touch him.

Then we came out here to lock the evil soul in its grave and in hell,

she added in a breath. She lowered her head.

Its grave in hell? Jesus. Well, where is Father Rush?

Bob asked. Why is he letting you wander around here on your own?

He's back in the grave. Old man Carter killed him, Jessie muttered.

What?

Killed Father Rush? Bob said.

Yes. She lifted her head and took a deep breath.

He's back in the opened grave, a pickax in his chest.

Just follow this path back and go to your right.

Oh my God, Bob. Go see if she imagined it, Tracy directed. Bob shot

off down the cemetery path.

Let me take you back to the house, Jessie. Your dress is torn; you're

covered with mud and grime.... You do look like you're the one who has

been through hell.

Almost, Jessie replied. Almost.

Tracy led her to their car. The headlights were still on; the engine

still running. She opened the door on the passenger's side and began to

guide Jessie in when Bob appeared in the stone arch.

She's telling the truth, he announced, his face in a ghastly grimace.

Father Rush is lying at the bottom of a grave with a pickax in his

chest.

Oh Bob.

I'll run ahead to the house and call the police, he said. You okay?

Yes, go on. Go on, Tracy said. She continued to guide Jessie into the

car.

Jessie, why did Mr. Carter do such a thing' she asked after she got in

behind the steering wheel.

Because we were about to cast holy water over the coffin and keep the

evil soul within. I told you; I kept telling all of you, but no one

would listen. No one . . .

she said, her voice trailing off. She laid her head back and let her

body sink into the seat.

Tracy drove her to the house and helped her in, leading her directly

back to her bedroom. Bob joined them in the corridor.

The police are on their way, he said.

All right. Put up some water for tea and I'll get her as cleaned up and

as calm as I can, Tracy said.

Right. Jesus, what a night.

I'll draw a warm bath for you, Jessie. How would you like that?

I'm so tired . . . sooo tired, she said, falling back on the bed. I

don't have the strength for a bath. I'll just rest here awhile.

Let me get you cleaned up. I'll sponge you down at least, Tracy said,

and began undressing her. Jessie was too exhausted to respond or help.

Vaguely she felt Tracy washing off her face, shoulders, and arms. She

heard her muttering about the dirt under her fingernails.

After Tracy had cleaned her as best as she could, she got her into a

nightgown and under the covers. Jessie let her eyelids close and

permitted herself to start to drift off, but she heard Bob come to the

bedroom door to announce that the police had arrived.

I'll take them to the grave, he said. The tea's simmering. How's she

doing?

She's very tired. Bob, what could have happened here?

I don't know. We'll get to the bottom of it soon. Be right back, he

added, and left.

Jessie moaned.

I'll bring you some tea, Tracy said. She returned with a cup and began

to spoon-feed her.

Thank you, Jessie smiled. It's so quiet now, no more voices . . .

very quiet.

Voices?

I'll just get a little rest now, Jessie said, letting her head fall back

to the pillow.

Okay, I'll be right nearby if you need me, Tracy said, rising. She

fixed Jessie's blanket and left her.

A little while later Jessie was awakened by the excited voices of

Patrolmen Peters and Daniels in the hallway just outside her door. After

Bob had taken them and shown them Father Rush's body, they had gone

upstairs to speak to old man Carter.

The door was open, Jessie heard Peters telling Tracy, so we went in.

You wouldn't believe the stench, Bob said.

It's like he kept dead bodies up there or something, Daniels said.

But the old man isn't there, Bob added.

His car is here, so we'll start looking for him in the cemetery, but

we'd like to talk to Jessie first, Peters said. How is she?

She's very, very tired, Tracy replied. I'm sure she's sleeping.

I'll talk to them, Jessie cried. Tell them to come in, please.

The policemen entered and stood just inside the door way. She beckoned

them closer.

What happened here, ma'am? Burt began. Where's Mr. Carter? Do you

know?

He's been turned to dust, she said. Dust to dust Dust?

Father Rush hit him with the holy water before he was struck with the

pickax. Now it's over- it's all over, she said softly.

Over? Peters asked. What's over?

The telephone rang.

I'll get it, Tracy said, and lifted the receiver. Hello She listened

for a moment. No, this is a friend.

What is it? Jessie asked fearfully, and turned toward the phone and

Tracy.

Oh, thank God, thank God, Tracy said. Yes, I'll tell her immediately.

Thank you.

What? Jessie said before Tracy hung up the receiver.