The Messenger (2011 reformat) (21 page)

"I think
he's cool. I think you should date him."

Jane frowned.
"And when you're done with the cheese, you can start on the pepperoni.
I'll start chopping up the onions and peppers." She glanced over her
shoulder, looked at Kevin, who was still sitting sullenly at the table, chin in
hand.

"I wonder
when he's gonna snap out of it," Jennifer whispered.

"He's
upset, honey. He loved that little toad."

"Sure,
Mom. I loved Mel too, but it's not the end of the world. How long is he gonna
mope like that?"

"It takes
time to get over things. And it will take Kevin longer because he's younger
than you are."

Such things
were difficult to explain. Failing at it, she knew, was just another element of
motherhood. "Make sure the oven's on," she said, trying to change the
subject. "It needs to be preheated. And grab that bottle of oregano."
They'd busied themselves a few minutes more, Jane chopping the onions and
peppers, when the doorbell rang.

"That's
him!" Jennifer exclaimed.

"It might
not be, honey. I'm not even sure if he's coming. He might be too busy-he's a
policeman." Jane hoped that it was him, though, but-With my luck, it'll be
the people from The Watchtower. She set down the knife and was about to go to
the door, but her daughter was already racing for it.

"I'll get
it!" Jennifer said, and scurried away.

Jane rolled
her eyes. Never a dull moment. Then Steve walked in with a big smile and a
white cardboard box.

"Hi,
everybody. Boy, something sure smells good in here."

What's in the
box? Jane thought. It looks like something from a Chinese carryout. I told him
we were making pizza!

Everybody said
their hellos, save for Kevin, who remained gloomy. Then Steve placed the box on
the table in front of him.

"How are
you today, Kevin?"

Kevin
shrugged, saying nothing.

"Kevin!"
Jane complained. "Where are your manners? Say hello to Chief Higgins."

"Hi,
Chief Higgins," he droned. Slowly, though, his eyes drifted to the box.
"What's in there?"

"Well,
I'm not sure, Kevin," Steve said, "but I think it's for you."

"For
me?"

"Yeah.
Why don't you go ahead and look inside."

Curiosity
dragged Kevin out of the funk. He picked up the box and carefully opened the
lid.

Then his face
lit up. "Wow! Look, Mom!"

A baby horned
toad meandered about in the bottom of the box.

"It looks
just like Mel, only smaller!"

"He's only
a few weeks old," Steve said.

"Steve,"
Jane said, "you shouldn't have. That was sweet of you."

Kevin was
bubbling over with excitement. "Wow, thanks, Chief Higgins!" Then, to
Jane: "Mom, I'll eat later, okay? I'm not hungry right now. I'm gonna go
play with him."

"All
right, honey".

"I'm
gonna name him Mel, Junior!"

Kevin cradled
the box in his hands and tromped to the next room.

"That
really did the trick," Jennifer said.

It sure did,
Jane thought. What a nice guy. After all he's had to do today, he took time out
to do that. "That was very nice, Steve. Kevin was really getting down in
the dumps."

"It was
nothing," Steve told her. "The Pet Smart was on the way anyhow."

"Let me
pay you for the toad."

"Forget
it. Let's eat some pizza; I'm starving."

Dinner was a
smashing success. They all traded talk back and forth while they ate. Steve
spent a lot of time asking Jennifer about school, her favorite subjects and
future plans. Jane could tell that her daughter liked him a lot. The cop side
of Steve always seemed very businesslike and by the book, but tonight he'd left
that all behind. Don't get your hopes up too high, Jane warned herself. This
didn't really qualify as a first date; she didn't even know if he wanted to
date. Take it a step at a time. Even if this never happens again, we all had a
nice time.

"I'll
never order out again," Steve said, pushing his plate away. "That was
the best pizza I've ever had."

"Jennifer
did it all," Jane said. "It's her recipe."

"Jen, you
should go into business for yourself. You'd make a fortune."

"Thank
you, Chief Higgins."

"It's
Steve."

"Thank
you, Chief Steve."

Everybody had
a laugh, then Jennifer rushed up. "I'll clear the table and do the dishes,
Mom. Why don't you and Chief Steve go watch TV? There's Simpson reruns on. And,
you know, you can go back into the den and watch it."

Jane blushed
outright. Jennifer, you're impossible.

Steve smiled
to himself, but played it off as innocent, knowing that Jane had been put on
the spot in a big way. "That sounds like a perfect idea to me. It's my
favorite show."

He followed
her out of the kitchen. "Sorry," she whispered. "I don't know
what to say."

"It's
fine," he laughed. "Kids are kids."

They stopped
in the family room to quickly check on Kevin. He was totally preoccupied with
the new toad, cautiously letting it roam the couch.

"Kevin,
make sure Mel Junior doesn't make a mistake."

"You mean
poop on the couch?"

"Why
mince words?" Steve said.

Yeah, kids are
kids, she thought. They left him be and went to the den. Jane tried to act nonchalant
but there were some serious butterflies in her stomach. Nothing was going to
happen, of course, and there were no expectations. It was simply the awkward
situation.

She felt
relieved, though, when they were inside and she closed the door.

More small
talk as they sat on the couch. "Are you really a Simpsons fan?"

"To be
honest, I haven't seen it in years 'cuz I'm always at work. Put on whatever you
like, just so long as it's not a cop show."

The casualness
about him put her even more at ease. They continued chatting, nothing heavy at
all, just each talking in little bits about themselves, their likes and
dislikes, where they'd been and where they'd like to go someday. He made it so
nice and easy. Her nervousness flew away without her even realizing it; it was
as though she hadn't been nervous at all. When he took her hand and held it, it
seemed like they'd known each other a long time.

Next, their
eyes were finding each other's. If anything, it was more deliberate for her
than for him. They were sitting closer, and soon the small talk wasn't making
it anymore, their faces closer as they spoke, their words growing softer. It
was all too natural when they began to kiss.

The kisses
were light, gentle. He seemed very delicate and caring. God, I can't believe
how fast this happened, Jane thought, but it's just...so...nice...

She hadn't
even thought about things like this for so long; she felt like an
eighteen-year-old on prom night. With her job, the house, the bills, and the
kids, sometimes she'd wondered if she'd ever have time again for a romance, and
that's what she knew now: that that's what she wanted. She was almost afraid to
ask herself how much she wanted tonight...

They started
to embrace, then. They started to kiss harder.

A distant
voice floated into the room: "Dhevic, an expert in the field..."

Must be some
dumbass documentary, Jane thought. They hadn't even been paying attention to
it. Jane and Steve kept kissing.

"...an
alarming proliferation of what we think of as cult-motivated activity"
came another voice now, in a slight European accent.

The words
shattered Jane's concentration. Did some guy on TV just say Steve pulled back
from the kiss, not alarmed but clearly diverted. He looked at the television
with interest. Damn it, Jane thought. What is that?

"Sorry,
but this sounds like it might be important," Steve said, sitting up on the
edge of the couch seat.

Jane went lax,
trying not to sigh out loud. She frowned at the television screen and saw a
tall man in a dark suit. A camera was following him from behind as he seemed to
be leading it through a well decorated house. Long dark hair threaded with some
gray hung over his shoulders. His footsteps echoed on the floorboards.

"From
East Coast to West Coast, from north to south." The European accent again.
"America is steeped in a history of demonological activity. This house
right here, Suit Manor, proves a prime example."

Tacky as it
was-like some overdone cable show about haunted houses or UFOs-it wasn't a documentary.
It was the local news station, which often ran features like this toward the
end of the hour. The scene cut to a dusty floor, where multiple human outlines
lay. The outlines seemed to be formed from old, dried blood.

"The
Suits were recluse millionaires, twin brothers. They invited a plethora of
guests to what they referred to as a 'celebration of the vernal equinox. An
orgy ensued, which quickly transformed. The Suits murdered eleven people in the
effort to incarnate the demon Baalzephon."

Jane couldn't
have been more perturbed. What business did this schlock have on the local
news? She crossed her arms, smirking. Steve seemed intent on the program.

She still
hadn't seen the face of the long-haired man on TV; the camera kept following
him from behind. Now the clatter of his footfalls on the wood floors changed
over to crunching: he was walking through a forest. Let me guess, Jane thought.
Now it's a haunted forest. Jeez. Eventually he emerged into a clearing and Jane
saw what the area really was. A graveyard. But clearly it was nowhere in
Florida.

"Prospect
Hill, Rhode Island," came the voice-over as the camera panned across old
granite tombstones. "The summer of 1987. Jacobi Mather, a direct
descendent of the pre-Revolutionary witch hunter Cotton Mather, on this very
ground, held a Black Mass on the Feast of Sahmain, and allegedly summoned the
Morning Star himself, the Lord of the Air and the Deceiver of Souls-also known
as Lucifer."

Even Jane
gasped at the program's next cut, and Steve hitched up an inch on the couch.
Now the camera was roving across a very familiar sight: a school. The voice-over
continued, "The quiet town of Danelleton, in Central Florida. The time-a
few days ago..."

Jane leaned
closer, next to Steve. "Wait a minute. That looks just like."

"It
is," Steve said. "How do you like this stuff? On the local
news."

Now the
footage showed the long-haired man, still from behind, walking in front of a
pillared dormitory building. "The Seaton School for Christian Girls,"
said the accented monotone. "Just days ago, demented postal worker Carlton
Spence went berserk and murdered a nun, a teacher, and a half-a-dozen religious
students. He crucified them, and then, before he took his  own life, he left
this sign."

The camera cut
to a shocking close-up. On the shower wall, drawn in blood, was the bell-shaped
symbol with the star.

Another voice
cut in, somebody else overdubbing. "Here is wisdom. Let he who hath
understanding count the number of the beast, for it is the number of a man, and
that number is six-hundred, three score, and six."

The
long-haired man was facing the camera now. He looked intense, if a bit wild,
with the hair and a long gray-streaked beard. A final cut showed the ambulances
loading body bags in front of the school.

Steve's eyes
were wide. He seemed miles away.

"You,"
he said. "My God, it's you."

Jane peered at
him. "Steve, you know this man?"

"Oh, I
know him, all right, the evil son of a bitch."

"Who is
he?"

"His
name's Dhevic." He held his hand out to the television. "And get of load
of this crap. They took some footage from one of his old documentaries and
spliced it up with a new interview about the murders here. They're putting it
on the local news, for God's sake. Yeah, that's just what people need to see.
Talk about hokey."

"I don't
understand. What's the deal with this man?"

Steve
dismissed it with a smirk. "It's a long story. I won't bother you with
it."

Now Jane was
genuinely flustered. At first she thought he was going to get up and leave, but
then she saw that he was reaching for the remote control.

He flicked the
TV off.

"What-"she
began to say.

He was kissing
her again, more intently this time. Jane responded with the same intensity.
Something about the TV clip had wound him up-at least she thought that's what
it must be. Steve was more intense now, more deliberate and focused on her.
Jane felt exhilarated but behind that an unmistakable feeling of alarm wavered.
She was almost afraid.

But of what?

His arms
slipped around her more tightly. Now his kisses were nearly desperate. Jane
didn't know what to do. I can't go to bed with this man. Or... I can, but I
know I shouldn't. It wasn't her style. And what would he think of her
afterward? These points made sense to her but when they collided with the
sudden surge of her desire.