Boo Who

  “Hi there, good-looking,” she smiled, but sounded out of breath.

  “Hi. You okay?”

  “Why?”

  “You sound out of breath.” He looked down, and mud was tracked all over the floor. “Melb, look at this muddy mess!”

  Her eyes darted to the floor, and her excited expression turned grim. She opened her mouth to say something, but he cut her off. “I support your owling efforts, honey. I really do. But maybe you should take your shoes off before you come in.”

  She nodded and smiled. “Of course. Yes. Owling.”

  “How’s that going, by the way?”

  “I’m getting closer.”

  “Good.” He grinned.

  “How about something to eat? A sandwich?”

  “That’d be terrific!” he said. As she got all the ingredients out of the fridge, he could not help but let his mind wander to what he’d seen today. Three times he’d witnessed the “clones” wandering around town, trying to infiltrate themselves as regular Skary citizens. One was shopping, though her behavior was anything but normal. She kept looking over her shoulder every few seconds. Another one sat drinking coffee, but in the darkest corner booth he could find, and from what Oliver could see, he wasn’t there for the coffee. The whole time he kept looking around, out the window, as if he was expecting something to happen. And a third one, another male, was walking along the street when suddenly he screamed and ran down an alley. Oliver tried to chase him, but he was gone.

  Melb handed him his sandwich. “So, anything exciting happen to you today?” She smiled.

  He smiled back. “Nah.”

  “Me either.”

  CHAPTER 30

  AINSLEY HAD SPENT the evening busying herself, going back and forth between tasks for Melb’s wedding and for hers. And crying. Wolfe still had not called. And she refused to call him. So she found herself alone.

  Well, nearly alone. Her father poked his head in once to see what was for dinner.

  “Pete’s Steakhouse,” she replied with a small smile.

  “Gotcha. You okay?” He opened the door wider. Thief came bounding in and joined her on her bed.

  “Yeah. Just stressed. I’m fine, though.”

  “Okay.”

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Was mom stressed before your wedding?”

  He grinned. “Well, your mother was never one to show any signs of stress. That was the way back then, you know. You kept your emotions to yourself. These days everyone encourages emoting and going on and on about how you feel as if that’s going to solve every problem in your life. So I don’t really know. She seemed poised to me.” He paused. “You want to talk about it?”

  “Uh, no. Thanks. Have a good dinner.”

  She found herself staring at the phone more than once, hoping it would ring. She checked it twice, just to make sure there was a dial tone. Anger always did make her more productive, and by the end of the evening, she’d completed the food arrangement for Melb’s wedding, and … well, nothing for hers. She hated to admit that her energy for planning her own wedding was slowly deflating. She wondered if he still wanted to marry her. She wondered if Wolfe would ever be able to see her true heart again.

  Wolfe couldn’t believe how sore he was when he rolled out of bed. Goose and Bunny eager to greet the morning air, nudged him down the stairs, where he opened the back door and let them out. He stretched his arms up with his usual morning yawn, but yelped instead. “Ah!” He was going to need a long, hot shower to knead the soreness out of these muscles. He poured himself a cup of coffee and went to the front window of his home. The morning sun, low against the horizon, had not yet covered up the night sky. A few stars, like pinpricks through dark fabric, glimmered to the west.

  Even with all the excitement last night, his mind was on Ainsley. He desperately wanted to talk to her, but wasn’t sure who he would be talking with. He longed for the Ainsley who wanted nothing more in life than to be his wife. But the new Ainsley did want more in life. Was that so bad? He sighed and stared into the beauty of the morning. He spent most Saturdays with Ainsley. He wondered about today. Would she have time for him?

  Turning to his bookshelf, he studied the top, where all his books were lined up. Walking closer, he looked at each spine. He could remember holding each one in his hand for the first time. It never got old. He loved getting that first book. They always told him it was the first one off the press. He didn’t know if that was true, but he believed it anyway.

  He was realizing something dreadful, though. His mind was growing stagnant. For years it had been a playful child, eager to get up in the morning, eager to tackle the world. Had it grown out of that stage? Was it time to move on, mature? He shook his head at his heavy thoughts.

  Life was so perplexing. A door closed. A window opened. All throughout life, closing doors, opening windows.

  Deep inside his spirit, like a tiny fish engulfed between the mighty waters of the sea, he heard a voice whisper patience. He laughed. He thought his whole life he’d been a patient man. Now was he being tested?

  “You mean, God,” he said aloud, “that you’re not going to deliver my answer to the front door?”

  Just as he finished that sentence, to his surprise, someone knocked. Rushing over to the door, he hoped it was Ainsley. However, he found the reverend standing there, looking small and meek, hunched over with his coat buttoned up, trying to stay warm.

  “Mind inviting a crazy man into your house?” he said with a smile.

  “Reverend, come in! I’ve been thinking about you.”

  He took his coat and offered him coffee, but the reverend declined. Wolfe said, “You look thinner. Are you eating?”

  “Enough to get me by,” the reverend sighed. “I haven’t had much of an appetite lately.”

  Wolfe joined the reverend in the living room. Through an appealing smile, Wolfe noticed his begging eyes. “I never questioned it, Wolfe. My whole life I thought I should be a pastor.”

  “You should be,” Wolfe said emphatically. “What would I have done without you in my life?”

  His eyes were glassy with tears. “I just don’t know anymore.”

  “Know what?”

  “I think it’s over.”

  “You’re thinking about quitting?”

  He laughed a little. “I’m cleverly calling it retirement, so I don’t feel quite as bad.”

  Wolfe stood. “Reverend, no! You can’t!”

  The reverend leaned back into the couch, looking Wolfe in the eyes. “All our lives we are molded, you know? By what our parents tell us about ourselves, what our classmates tell us, what everyone we come in contact with tells us. You’d think by my age I would understand who I am, but I’m not sure I do. I thought I was put on this earth to help people, but I’m not helping anybody, Wolfe. All I’m doing is providing a place for people to go one morning of the week.”

  “But Reverend, you helped me. Isn’t it all worth it if you’ve just helped one person?”

  “Would one book have been enough?”

  Wolfe sighed, then quietly said, “No.”

  The reverend smiled at him. “You’re a good man. You weren’t hard to change. You just needed a little direction. God did all the work anyway.”

  Wolfe joined him on the couch. “You know, perception is a funny thing. I always thought how lucky you were to know your calling.”

  “Don’t you know yours?”

  “I thought it was to be a writer. But now I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you still love to write?”

  “I’m not sure. I thought it would never leave me, but I sit down to do it, and the passion is gone.”

  “Be patient, my friend,” he said. A tingle slid down Wolfe’s back.

  “Patient.”

  “God will show you in due time.”

  “Who am I supposed to be until then?”

  An amused expression lifted Reverend Peck’s eyes. “Who are any of us without G
od? Lost souls.”

  “And with God?”

  The reverend thought for a moment. “Souls with purpose, but sometimes without plans.”

  Wolfe smiled. “I hope I get my orders soon. Right now I’m reading romance novels at Booky’s.”

  The reverend laughed. “Well, I guess you can see where I’ve landed.” He shrugged. “I put all the pews back this week. And decided to stop the nonsense I created. But I don’t have a thing to say anymore, Wolfe. So I’m starting with the first sermon I ever preached. Used sermons.” He shook his head. “I’ve never preached a sermon twice in all my life.”

  Wolfe knew he couldn’t say anything to help the reverend, but he placed a hand on his shoulder. The reverend smiled in appreciation and said, “Well, at least I am looking forward to one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your wedding!”

  Wolfe looked away.

  CHAPTER 31

  “COME! ON! YOU! STUPID! PIECE! OF! SHINY! METAL!” As hard as she pried, though, the lock would not come loose.

  Melb wanted to scream. For days she’d tried to open the safe, and without success. And as time passed, she was becoming more and more paranoid. She thought her life might even be in danger, if the owner of this money found out it was missing.

  Plus, the way Oliver was acting these days, she wasn’t sure if he knew she was hiding something or not. When he was around, his mind seemed occupied with everything but her. He’d start a sentence and then not even finish it, deciding instead to just stare into space.

  She tried to convince herself that he just had a lot of wedding stuff on his mind. Four days until their wedding! She threw the pliers down and rested, smiling at the thought. She wasn’t sure how much weight she’d lost, but she knew it was significant. She had one more appointment with Dr. Hass before the big day.

  And she’d decided not to try the dress on until the day of the wedding. She knew she would become obsessed with trying it on to see if it would fit, and she thought this would be the perfect time to implement that faith thing Reverend Peck was always talking about. Walk by faith, not by sight. Her waistline said the dress wasn’t going to fit. Her faith told her it would. And from that moment on, she began thinking of herself as a size 10/12 and not an inch bigger.

  She was getting a lot of comments from people about the weight she was losing, and each week she had to notch her belt one tighter to keep her pants up.

  She also realized she had only four more days to bond with that owl. After the wedding, she’d have no need for a hobby anymore.

  Shoving the safe to the back of her closet, she glanced at her watch. It was almost time to meet Oliver for church. As she dressed, she thought of how lovely it was going to be to tell him they were rich. She imagined the look on his face when she surprised him on their wedding day. Those eyes would twinkle. That little mouth would drop wide open. He would squeeze her tight and jump for joy!

  She zipped up her dress, pulled on a pair of pantyhose that hadn’t fit in four years, and whisked herself off to church where she hoped the sermon wasn’t going to be about lying.

  Wolfe saw Ainsley as he walked in, sitting in her favorite pew, looking through the bulletin. His heart skipped a beat, for several reasons. Her beauty always did something to him. He never grew tired of it. But also, the conflict that had arisen between them. They hadn’t talked since Indianapolis.

  “Throw down your pride, you mutt,” he growled to himself. She was truly the woman of his dreams. Was he really ready to throw all that away? But she seemed so different these days.

  “Hi,” he said, approaching her.

  She looked up at him. Her eyes cast a defensive look. She scooted over in the pew and let him sit.

  Wolfe was just about to try to explain how he was feeling when a finger tapping on the back of his shoulder interrupted his thoughts.

  They both turned to find Melb sitting behind them.

  “Have you seen Oliver?”

  “No, sorry,” he said. Ainsley shook her head.

  “Well, it’s just that usually he’s here very early. He likes to get his favorite seat, you know, and it’s almost time to start, and well, as you can see, I’m here alone.”

  “Don’t worry, Melb,” Ainsley said, “I’m sure he’s just running late. Maybe making some last-minute wedding plans or something.”

  “No, he wouldn’t be doing that. He was in charge of the honeymoon, and as you know from experience in working for him, Wolfe, he had that done weeks ago and under budget.”

  Wolfe nodded, detecting a tinge of bitterness. “Could he have overslept?” he asked.

  “Ha!” Melb blurted. “Oliver? Oversleep? The last time that man overslept was at four months old.”

  Ainsley and Wolfe looked at each other, trying to decide how to make Melb feel better. But before they could say much more, Reverend Peck took the pulpit.

  Bespeckled Douglas Brewer, at five foot seven, barely had enough meat on him to hold a T-shirt on. He’d gotten his thin frame from his mother, Agnes, and his poor eyesight from his father, Truman. What nobody ever could figure out, though, is from where Douglas Brewer got his temper. The shock that would come when it was even casually displayed was priceless, and over the years, Douglas had grown somewhat amused by this.

  He didn’t like it about himself, and could truly identify with the Hulk. A bad temper was nothing to brag about. But occasionally, it did come in handy. He’d not yet had a chance to save the world, but apparently he’d just saved his own life.

  The balding man who called himself Oliver looked remarkably like a fish out of water, wide eyes, gasping for breath. Douglas knew the man was shocked. Douglas supposed he’d been picked because of his appearance and size. He’d noticed this man a few times over the past couple of days. And of course, everybody had now heard the rumors about Leroy.

  “Don’t have a heart attack. Sheesh.” Douglas pushed his glasses up his nose and shook his head. The rope Oliver had brought to tie him up now tied Oliver to an old water pump that stuck out of the ground. Without much trouble, Douglas had managed to pull the guy behind the local dump (though he was sure Oliver weighed twice as much as he did), careful not to drag him through the poison ivy he’d encountered a week ago. The misery of fighting fear and flesh was nearly indescribable.

  Oliver, shiny from sweat, shaking like a hairless Chihuahua in winter, could do nothing but suck tiny drafts of air in rapid succession.

  “What did you plan on doing here, mister?” Douglas said. He was normally not this bold. He had a conscience, after all. And really preferred computers over people. “What’d you bring that rope for?”

  “A-a-are you from Kentucky?” was all Oliver said.

  He was actually from Arkansas but had moved around so much that it was too complicated a question to get into right now.

  “I’ve seen you following me,” Douglas said. “And you come after me with this rope. I can’t imagine what you’d planned to do with it.”

  Oliver’s skin tone faded to putty. “D-don’t kill me.”

  Douglas crossed his arms. Don’t kill him? What kind of freak was this man? Had he planned on killing Douglas?

  Douglas sighed, stepping back a few paces to think. Was it all worth it? Really? Couldn’t he just live with his problems and deal with them? His mother had convinced him it was time to address the situation, especially with what happened several months ago at the zoo, which managed to embarrass his entire family, but in the end, did it really have to be this difficult? He glanced at Oliver, wondering what in the world this man was thinking.

  He’d been told by Dr. Hass to integrate himself into this town’s society and try to live normally among the things he feared, but the things he feared, which he could scarcely mention, didn’t hold a candle to its citizens. Leroy knew that firsthand.

  Douglas looked at his watch. He was late. Since getting the instructions to enter into society, Douglas decided why not try church? A few others had mentioned it
too. There didn’t seem to be too much else to do around here. He glanced at Oliver, who seemed to be holding his breath.

  “I’ll deal with you later,” Douglas said. Thankfully, the man was wearing a wool coat and a stocking cap. He’d be okay for a little while. Maybe it would be good for him to sit here and think about what he’d done … or had attempted, anyway. Douglas tied a bandanna he had in his car around Oliver’s mouth.

  He started to walk off, but then turned and looked at Oliver. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said. “I shouldn’t have done that, even though you were apparently trying to kidnap me. It’s just that I have a temper, and sometimes things trigger it that just make me fly off the handle like a trapeze artist.” Douglas shrugged. “The fact of the matter is that I have a lot of things wrong with me, and I suppose I should crawl off and die somewhere, but there’s just that certain human instinct that makes you say to yourself, I’m okay” Oliver’s expression did nothing to make Douglas think he was tracking with him, so he turned, happy to have confessed his anger before going to church, and started walking away.

  And for a few moments, he’d forgotten all about why he was in this town, altering his entire life to try to make it whole. Unfortunately, it didn’t last. Walking to church, he found himself holding his breath and praying he wouldn’t scream like a banshee.

  At least he was praying.

  Reverend Peck had dreaded this morning right up to the time he approached the pulpit. The idea of recycling his sermons was just so preposterous that he nearly felt ill. And of course the first sermon he ever preached was so bad that he could hardly preach it without some revisions, which did help him feel a little more useful.

  It did bring back good memories, days filled with hope and faith. He had been young, feeling as though God would use him to conquer the world. It didn’t occur to him until just a few years ago that not only had he not conquered the world, but he’d barely conquered a hillside. And from that point on, he likened his hope to a shriveled raisin. Once a beautiful, plump grape, food of kings. Now a fruit old people eat to keep their bowels moving. It didn’t have that Camelot-like notion he’d dreamed of years before.