new crack had opened beneath the window and a nest of spiders had already taken up residence within the musty gap.
“If you could say a quick prayer that he not be in his cups today,” said Kathy, mounting the worn steps.
She rapped with the brass knocker. There was no. answer. She tried again.
The pressure of her hand jarred the door, swinging it inward on darkness.
“Not a good sign,” said Sandy.
“You had to say that, didn’t you?”
The interior of the sanctuary smelled of mildew and burned candles. Kathy knocked again in the hallway.
“Hello?”
Sandy dragged her feet noisily.
“Wait,” said Kathy. “I think I hear him. Reverend? Reverend Malone?”
“. . . Ma-lone . . . lone . . . lone,” came the echo.
“I suggest we get going,” said Sandy. “Mrs. Williams, it’s late.”
“Nonsense.” Kathy forged ahead, leading the way briskly past the vestry. “Hello?”
“. . . o . . . hell-o . . . hell-o.”
She approached the altar. As she moved, the dark wood trim appeared to undulate with the last golden reflections of the massive cross that leaned toward her from the rock-ribbed wall. She knocked again, and a fine stream of sand fell from the ceiling and filtered over her knuckles and hair.
“Another bad sign,” said Sandy. “Do you mind if I wait in the car?”
“The telephone, Sandy, remember? Try the office. Call Bernie. Wait, I’ll come with you. That must be where Reverend Malone is hiding.”
“That’s a good idea, Mrs. Williams. I would have thought of it myself, if it had occurred to me.”
A looming figure withdrew from the pillar near Kathy.
“Mrs. Williams!”
“Jesus!” she screamed, dropping her purse. “Oh! I’m sorry, Reverend Malone. I didn’t see you standing there. Are—are you all right?”
He moved in front of her, blocking the way.
“We’ve come to offer you a ride into town. For the ceremony. I know you said you weren’t sure you could make it, but I thought—”
“Ceremony?”
“Yes, the benediction, remember? The Antonio Bay Centennial? Surely you—”
“The benediction,” he said. His throat quivered but his lips remained still. “You want me to give the benediction?” The voice came from way back in his throat.
“Of course. Who else? If you’d care to change, wash up, perhaps, then—”
“Mrs. Williams,” said Sandy, “it’s awfully late.”
“Yes, Sandy, it certainly is, isn’t it? What time is it getting to be, anyway? My Lord—excuse me again, Reverend. But with the traffic this time of day, there really may not be time, you know, to—”
“How fortunate, Mrs. Williams, that you came here first.” He described a beckoning half circle in the air, hooking one finger. “Come with me.”
Behind his back, Kathy mouthed for help. She tipped her thumb to her lips, making a drinking motion. But Sandy was having trouble taking her eyes away from Reverend Malone’s ravaged face.
“Thank you, anyway, Reverend. On second thought it is getting rather late, and the others will be waiting. Is it really that late, Sandy? Oh, my goodness.”
“This way,” said Malone in a rasping voice. “I have something to show you. You may want to change your plans.”
“No, really, Reverend. We’ll go on ahead. I can see—”
His eyes bored out of the shadows as if illuminated by a cold, pitiless fire.
“You must understand, Mrs. Williams. It’s important that you do.”
“Oh, yes, I understand, Reverend. I can see you’re, well, not feeling up to par. The pressures this town has been under these last few days . . . I’m going to call Dr. Thayden and have him come over. You’re like me. You’ve been taking this all too seriously.”
“But of course you don’t understand yet. How could you?”
“Understand what? It’s a historical tradition. One hundred years ago today . . .”
“We are cursed, Mrs. Williams. Every last one of us. Our lives are founded on a lie. My grandfather tried to hide his sins in the
“If you could say a quick prayer that he not be in his cups today,” said Kathy, mounting the worn steps.
She rapped with the brass knocker. There was no. answer. She tried again.
The pressure of her hand jarred the door, swinging it inward on darkness.
“Not a good sign,” said Sandy.
“You had to say that, didn’t you?”
The interior of the sanctuary smelled of mildew and burned candles. Kathy knocked again in the hallway.
“Hello?”
Sandy dragged her feet noisily.
“Wait,” said Kathy. “I think I hear him. Reverend? Reverend Malone?”
“. . . Ma-lone . . . lone . . . lone,” came the echo.
“I suggest we get going,” said Sandy. “Mrs. Williams, it’s late.”
“Nonsense.” Kathy forged ahead, leading the way briskly past the vestry. “Hello?”
“. . . o . . . hell-o . . . hell-o.”
She approached the altar. As she moved, the dark wood trim appeared to undulate with the last golden reflections of the massive cross that leaned toward her from the rock-ribbed wall. She knocked again, and a fine stream of sand fell from the ceiling and filtered over her knuckles and hair.
“Another bad sign,” said Sandy. “Do you mind if I wait in the car?”
“The telephone, Sandy, remember? Try the office. Call Bernie. Wait, I’ll come with you. That must be where Reverend Malone is hiding.”
“That’s a good idea, Mrs. Williams. I would have thought of it myself, if it had occurred to me.”
A looming figure withdrew from the pillar near Kathy.
“Mrs. Williams!”
“Jesus!” she screamed, dropping her purse. “Oh! I’m sorry, Reverend Malone. I didn’t see you standing there. Are—are you all right?”
He moved in front of her, blocking the way.
“We’ve come to offer you a ride into town. For the ceremony. I know you said you weren’t sure you could make it, but I thought—”
“Ceremony?”
“Yes, the benediction, remember? The Antonio Bay Centennial? Surely you—”
“The benediction,” he said. His throat quivered but his lips remained still. “You want me to give the benediction?” The voice came from way back in his throat.
“Of course. Who else? If you’d care to change, wash up, perhaps, then—”
“Mrs. Williams,” said Sandy, “it’s awfully late.”
“Yes, Sandy, it certainly is, isn’t it? What time is it getting to be, anyway? My Lord—excuse me again, Reverend. But with the traffic this time of day, there really may not be time, you know, to—”
“How fortunate, Mrs. Williams, that you came here first.” He described a beckoning half circle in the air, hooking one finger. “Come with me.”
Behind his back, Kathy mouthed for help. She tipped her thumb to her lips, making a drinking motion. But Sandy was having trouble taking her eyes away from Reverend Malone’s ravaged face.
“Thank you, anyway, Reverend. On second thought it is getting rather late, and the others will be waiting. Is it really that late, Sandy? Oh, my goodness.”
“This way,” said Malone in a rasping voice. “I have something to show you. You may want to change your plans.”
“No, really, Reverend. We’ll go on ahead. I can see—”
His eyes bored out of the shadows as if illuminated by a cold, pitiless fire.
“You must understand, Mrs. Williams. It’s important that you do.”
“Oh, yes, I understand, Reverend. I can see you’re, well, not feeling up to par. The pressures this town has been under these last few days . . . I’m going to call Dr. Thayden and have him come over. You’re like me. You’ve been taking this all too seriously.”
“But of course you don’t understand yet. How could you?”
“Understand what? It’s a historical tradition. One hundred years ago today . . .”
“We are cursed, Mrs. Williams. Every last one of us. Our lives are founded on a lie. My grandfather tried to hide his sins in the
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