Pray for the Devil

Part 1: The Strange Brains-4

"I really do want a couple of cold ones," he thought, and would from that moment rationalize that the most fateful decision of his life hinged on the welcome taste of hops and barley.

He steered Blue Volvo in the direction of Smokey Bear.

When he made the last turn into the campsite, he saw her standing at its edge, silhouetted against a spotlight mounted on a hook outside the Winnebago's door and a lively, flickering fire. The Rabbi and Matt, rose together at the sight of him. Only Jeff Krucek remained seated, scowling.

Before he could stand upright Melanie was on him, hugging him fiercely around the neck. "I'm so glad you came back, Andrew. We need you so much." He slid his arms gently around her waist in a friendly non-suggestive manner and patted the small of her back. In spite of this, or perhaps because of it, Krucek jumped to his feet, angrily threw something into the fire and stormed into the Winnebago. Suddenly, Farley understood the younger man's hostility. He, the newcomer, was a threat to steal Melanie's affections, although it seemed impossible the wistful beauty could have any romantic interested in the diminutive man.

"I know what you said about beer, Rabbi," by now the two men had reached them, "but I intend to have a couple of cold ones before turning in."

"If your offer still holds," Matt said, "I believe I'll join you."

The Rabbi smiled, "I wouldn't mind one myself."

"I've got plenty, a twelve pack."

The Rabbi's smile diminished somewhat. "Just be careful," he said.

"I'm not going anywhere tonight, Rabbi. Don't worry."

The Rabbi started to say, "That's not what I meant," but apparently thought better of if.

"Come join us." The Rabbi waved him into the campsite. "We prepared a place for you inside."

"Oh, that's all right, Folks. I've slept many a night in Blue Volvo. She's a hard mistress, but she's home."

By now Melanie had released her grasp and stepped back to stare at him joyfully. "I knew you were the one," she said.

Before Farley could press her to explain, the Rabbi talked over him. "I wish you would reconsider. We can provide a nice mattress for you, your own space." Farley glanced at the Winnebago and, while it probably could sleep six, it would be crowded. Besides, he was a light sleeper, given to snoring - and who knew what the nighttime habits of these people were? "No thanks, Rabbi. I'll sleep in my car - and I promise I'll still be here in the morning."

The Rabbi merely nodded his head and turned away.

"Come on, Dude," Matt smiled, "Let's get on to some creative imbibement."

"The first one's for you, Matthew," Farley said, cracking the pop top.

"I suspect you want to know what this is all about," Matt offered, waving at the vehicles and taking a long gulp.

"Yeah, I figured your story had to be more interesting than TV reruns."

"So that's the reason you came back... the lesser of two boredoms."

"I'll leave it at that," Farley replied, casting a furtive glance at Melanie, which Matt caught. He nodded in understanding.

"Pull up a chair, young man, and listen to a tale that'll curl your short hairs."

"Their curled already, bro-man."

"Matt," Melanie interrupted, dead serious now, "I think I'll get everyone ready for bed. I don't need to hear this again."

"Sure, Mother Mary. Who's first?"

"Jeff's inside already, so I'll start with him."

Farley barely concealed his shock. Is this what I think it is? When Melanie opened the Winnebago's door he could see the young black woman curled in a tight fetal position on a narrow thinly padded couch. The door closed a second after Krucek approached Melanie, wearing only his underpants and a smile. The bonding agent among this disparate group was coming clear.

"I'll fill you in as quickly as I can, and then the Rabbi can take it from there. 'Cause I'm next," Matt said in a tone so casual it meant this ritual must have been going on for quite some time.

Farley was beginning to see Melanie in a different light, and he wasn't sure he liked it. In fact, he was pretty sure he didn’t like it, and the resulting disappointment weighed heavily. Matt and the Rabbi flanked him as they took their places in front of the fire, which had subsided to embers. The Rabbi tossed a couple of small limbs to reawaken it.

The three men sipped their beers in silence, the Rabbi seeming reluctant to swallow more than a few drops at a time. Each time he did, he surveyed the camp's perimeter.

Farley turned to verify the sound behind him. The Winnebago was rocking rhythmically, barely perceptible due to its size and suspension, but rocking without question. He tried to put the activity inside out of his mind.

"As the Rabbi said before, we're on a quest," Matt began slowly. "Oh, hell! Might as well get right down to it... We're chasing a demon."

Farley chugged the rest of his beer, let out a huge belch, crushed the can, tossed it beside the fire and grabbed another. "I heard that," Melanie called from within, and Farley marveled at her multi-tasking skills. He glanced over at Blue Volvo and debated whether he should bolt for it. "And what, pray tell, does this demon look like?" he asked with the feigned innocence of a child.

"Nobody knows. It's invisible."

"So, do you have special glasses, or a bloodhound I haven't seen."

"I can see this is going to be real tough," Matt sighed.

"Well, come on, you guys. What do you expect? If this is a joke, it's old now, and if you're telling the truth, or what you think is the truth, you must know how crazy you sound."

Matt began to speak, but the Rabbi raised his hand, "No, you're right, Andrew. It does sound crazy. In fact, until this morning we couldn't help thinking it was crazy ourselves."

"Then you made that recording," Farley posited.

"Yes, and that confirmed a theory we've been developing for over six months."

"We don't have time for a whole lot of back story," Matt broke in. "At least I don't, because," he nodded at the Winnebago, "I'm next. But here's the short version. We all met in a little Reformed Church outside of Pittsburgh. That's a Protestant denomination, which is a little unusual, because I'm Catholic, Jeff's Catholic and the Rabbi is obviously...?" He looked over at the bearded man with eyebrows furrowed.

"Jewish," the Rabbi said.

"That's right, Jewish," Matt continued.

"You're such a kidder," the Rabbi shook his head, smiling.

"Mother Mary said she was born Lutheran, but had separated from the church a few years before. We weren't sure what she meant by 'separated' until she explained herself, which we'll let her do for you when she's ready." The rocking stopped. "Oops, almost time," Matt said anxiously. Farley felt a little sick, but chugged down his second beer and opened a third. "Last September... what is it April?"

"April, right," the Rabbi said.

"Yeah, about eight months ago, the New Holland Reformed Church ran a little ad in the local rag that caught my attention. It read something like, 'Have you had a strange experience you can't tell anyone about- a ghost, UFO sighting, a strange premonition? Well, you can tell us. Our church is built on a belief in the supernatural, and your story is welcome here.' They gave a date and time for their first ever meeting - on Wednesday nights. I figured that would make for interesting conversation, and besides I had a story I needed to talk about, so I went. Only four people showed, so it looked like this idea was a quick fizzle, but we decided to try it one more time after the ad ran in the next weekly. This time two people who came the first week didn't show, but three more did, including the Rabbi."

"I, too, had a story," the Rabbi put in.

"So, we figured we might have something here, and made the commitment to promote the group to as many people as we thought might be open to the subject matter. Besides, we didn't exactly want to hear the same stories over and over every week."

"Wise," Farley said, belching again.

"We held steady at five or six for about a month, and started hearing second hand stories relayed from people who were too embarrassed or suspicious to expose themselves to strangers. It turns out there are a lot more people who have had strange experiences than we know."

The door to the Winnebago opened and Jeff stepped down, wearing a mellow smile. "You're up, my friend," he said to Matt.

The tall man rose immediately. "I'll let the Rabbi take it from here, gentlemen. I have a pressing engagement." He emphasized the word pressing, eliciting a laugh from his two travel mates.

Farley looked up to see Melanie standing in the doorway, having shucked her flannel shirt and revealing a tight sports bra that covered half of her midsection. She waved at him and smiled. "Have fun," he said flatly, as Matt closed the door behind him.

"Hey, Farley," Krucek remarked as he passed the two men on his way to the pick-up, "I just figured it out. You’re a fugitive."

"Say, what?" Farley cast the younger man a look of disdain.

"You're not that hard to read. You're runnin' from something."

"I assure you I'm running toward something, not from something." Farley just noticed he could see his breath.

"Sure you are," Krucek smirked. "What man your age just packs up his car and heads west? You have drugs in there?"

"Go to hell, Krucek... and by the way, I don't have any designs on your girlfriend, so you can put your petty high school jealousy to rest. Got it, boy?" Farley spit toward the fire.

Krucek froze as if contemplating an attack. Before the thought ripened, the Rabbi broke in. "Gentlemen, we need to stay together at all costs. Any loss of solidarity among us could be exploited and become... "

"Dangerous?" Farley and Krucek said simultaneously.

"Yes, dangerous," the Rabbi added, and followed it with a brief, forced laugh.

This little amusement seemed to break the tension, and Krucek continued his trip to the pick-up, but not before muttering over his shoulder, "Fugitive."

As if nothing had happened, the Rabbi continued Matt's narrative. "We heard all kinds of stories, usually from people who came once and never again. It seemed like once they vented, they either felt no need or were too embarrassed to come back. Most of them claimed to see a recently dead loved one in a dream or vision; some reported moments of uncanny prescience; one person actually insisted he had been visited by aliens who entered his room at night and invited him onto their cigar shaped spacecraft for a bi-weekly jaunt through the cosmos. He's the one who brought his own brownies, by the way."

"And he wouldn't share?" Farley offered.

"And he wouldn't share," the Rabbi concurred.

"Then about the fifth or sixth week the tone of the conversation changed. That happened when the minister of the church told his story, which precipitated the newspaper advertisement. He stated emphatically that he had exorcised a demon from the house next door, a demon in the process of taking possession of a little boy, the first child ever to live in that house. He said with a straight face that the demon had possessed the wife of a former minister, that house being the original parsonage, which kept her chained to the house for over one hundred and fifty years. But the demon wanted to cast off the woman in order to gobble up a more tasty offering, which was the soul of this little boy. The minister, who was clinically depressed, claimed to feel the struggling spiritual presences, especially when the boy was close-by. He knew this because he had never felt overwhelming emotions like these. To make a long story a little shorter, he borrowed the Roman Catholic Rites of Exorcism from a priest friend of his, and with the help of the dead woman's spirit cast the demon from the house, thus saving the little boy from a horrible fate. At no point while he was speaking did I or anyone else present get the sense that he was putting us on. He clearly believed every word he said."