chapter nine: A mysterious black cat leads Mrs. Hazelton to a witch. The witch claims responsibility for Reverend Paulson's murder.
Is the Reverend Dead?
Chapter ten
One day follows the next—lost in wonder and worry. Did I meet a witch? Did she murder Reverend Paulson or…? How will I—.
Bz-z-z-z. The sound makes me jump, but it’s only the timer. I pull cookies out of the oven and set them on the rack to cool. As I remove the last cookie from the baking sheet, I hear… Footsteps? Up the stairs, stopping at the porch. The door opens without a knock.
“Hi, Granny.” It’s my grandson, Conner. Through a mouthful of cookies, he explains, “Mom and Dad are wigging out again. They never want me to go anywhere with anyone. I never can have any fun. It’s spring break. I’m suppos’da be on holidays and they put me in jail. Can I stay with you guys?”
He’s at least a head taller than me, but all I see is my fragile angel. All I can say is, “We’ll be happy to have you stay, dear.” Should I have checked with Arthur or my son or my son’s wife first? Maybe but…
“Thanks, Granny.” Conner carries his things down the hall to the spare room.
And it’s too late to check with anyone, he’s all moved in.
***
Sunday morning, I drive through the sleepy island and turn onto the church’s winding, gravel driveway. I’m so early I’ll even beat—. Young Ms. Matthews’ white Mini Cooper has taken the spot reserved for the Reverend. Some nerve. And other cars… I've seen them parked in front of the grocery store, bakery, library, everywhere, but never at the church. They have no business being here. Of course, she’d do something like this. I can’t wait to confront her—see her guilty face. Like a silently approaching storm, I leave my car and enter the church. The lights are off and the pews are empty. A woman’s voice drifts in from the vestry. To guide my way, I slide my hand from the top of one pew to the other.
The lights are on in the vestry. With folded legs, Ms. Matthews sits with the other woman in a circle on the floor. Their eyes are closed; their hands are cupped. Are they about to receive something? Maybe they’re playing a game of button-button who’s got the button.
A youngish woman with purple hair and in pyjamas says, “Send your love out and out and out.”
She says other mumbo-jumbo too and strikes a small gong. On cue, eyes open and hands fold as if in prayer.
“Name Day,” they chant, bowing deeply at the waist. Their heads almost touching the floor.
Bizarre? Certainly. Evil? Potentially.
“Thank you all for coming,” the purple-haired woman says. “Next Sunday we’ll meet at, in… Any ideas?”
“We could meet here again,” Ms. Matthews tells them. “And everyone is welcome to stay for church.” Well, I never! She thinks she can invite these pagans to worship with us.
Ms. Matthews picks up the blanket she’s been sitting on and a round marble rolls out and keeps rolling. Hand on the wall for support, I scoop the marble off the floor before they notice it or me. In my hand, I realize that it’s not a marble. It feels more like a balloon or like a...an eye. Reverend Paulson’s eye. Fighting for my balance, I groan and that draws their attention.
“Good morning, Mrs. Hazelton.” Ms. Matthews doesn’t even have the common sense to look guilty. “You should have come earlier, you could have joined us.” She smiles.
The women leave and Ms. Matthews goes into the main church. I can hear her practising her sermon.
To drown her out, I recite the 27th Psalm, “The Lord is my light, and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid? When the wicked advance against me to devour me, it is my enemies and my foes who will stumble and fall.”
Are you following me?
