“Is there anything else I can get you?”
They all shook their heads, and Ainsley returned to the counter, Garth following so closely she could hear him breathing. She turned around. “Garth! Give me some room, will you?”
“You’re a little snippy today.”
“Are you going to tell me the news or not?” Ainsley wiped her hands on her apron and eyed the couple in the corner waiting to be served. “It’s the busiest time of the day, you know.”
Garth’s eyes narrowed, and a wicked little grin crept across his thin and crusty lips. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Wolfe Boone gave his life to the Lord Jesus Christ.”
Ainsley looked hard at Garth with a fierceness she could hardly control. “Is this some sort of sick joke?”
“Not according to Missy Peeple. Said she was watering the flowers at the church and heard him talking to Reverend Peck about the whole thing.”
Ainsley shoved her hair out of her face. “What does she know?”
“This makin’ you angry, darlin’?”
“He makes me angry in general, and you know it.”
Garth snickered under his breath. “You’re cute when you’re mad.”
“You’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got customers waiting.” She tried to smile at Garth politely. Her mom had told her always to be polite, even to people she didn’t like. And she knew Jesus had mentioned that once or twice himself.
Ainsley walked past Garth, took the couple’s order, and then stepped outside the back of the restaurant for her fifteen-minute break. Could this be true? Missy was by far the most accurate and experienced town gossip, but it was easier to believe Garth was cloning pigs.
A yellow cat purred its way through her legs, wrapping its tail around her ankles. “Shoo!” she instructed the cat, who hurried off to the garbage cans.
She’d been a Christian nearly her whole life. That’s why she despised what that man had done to her wonderful little town. What had once been a nice, quiet, simple town was now a haven for all that was gruesome, horrid, and monstrous. All because of him. How could a man like that change? For real?
She looked up to the sky. If he was faking it, then God would know. God knows everything and brings all evil into the light. Ainsley smiled with that small reassurance. A cold north wind blew in suddenly, and she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. Just a moment ago it had been sunny. But now dark, heavy clouds filled the sky.
A storm was coming.
CHAPTER 2
“AMEN.”
Wolfe Boone opened his eyes. He half expected to see angels and white light hovering above him, but instead the church had actually seemed to darken while they prayed. He looked at the reverend, who was smiling. The reverend glanced outside.
“Looks like some clouds have rolled in.”
Wolfe nodded but found himself speechless. Though the windows didn’t gleam with supernatural light, something was astoundingly different. The change was on the inside, however, and though he couldn’t be certain, he expected he looked just the same on the outside. Still, there was a remarkable tranquility inside his spirit, nearly unexplainable for a man who could describe just about anything. He chewed at his fingernails as he pondered this.
He also pondered evil. He’d met money and fame while writing of ghosts and goblins and devils and demons. And while most critics of his genre would argue that he was as evil as the characters he developed, Wolfe Boone had always sensed that in a war between good and evil, good would always win in the end, that good and evil were not mutually equal enemies. He knew evil to be weaker and believed it depended on manipulative and seedy tactics to stay in the game. Though it was meaner and darker than he’d ever imagined, it was powerless against the Life that now resided in him.
And as he processed the forgiveness he’d just received and the new life he’d been given, he felt as if wisdom had replaced whatever intelligence he possessed. Life was not the same.
“You have a lot to think about,” the reverend said, and Wolfe blinked away his thoughts. “How do you feel?”
Wolfe rubbed his hands together. His mind contained a vast number of words, and he could pick any one of them as if flipping through a dictionary, but only one word seemed completely appropriate: “New.”
The reverend nodded and grinned. “The Bible says you are a new creation now. The old has gone. The new has come.” The reverend looked down at his hands, as if trying to find a way to describe something. He then said, “You will find that your perception has changed. Things will look different now than they did before.” His eyes were filled with light and peace. “And all that you regretted in your life is buried. A new life has been given to you.”
Wolfe managed to smile at the reverend despite the fact that he felt he could cry. He did it intentionally. He knew he could appear serious and brooding, which many people mistook for dark and creepy.
The reverend returned the smile and stuck out his hand for Wolfe to shake. “I’m glad to know you. I’m so glad you came here today.”
“I’m glad too,” Wolfe replied, shaking his hand firmly.
The reverend stood suddenly. “How about some lunch?”
“Lunch?”
“Yes. How about you and I have lunch together?”
Wolfe stood too. He’d never eaten lunch with anyone in this town before.
“We better hurry,” the reverend said, ushering him out the door. “The wind’s blowing something furious in.”
They stepped outside into the wind and made their way down the hill into the town. Wolfe towered over the gentle and meek man beside him, but somehow the reverend seemed to stand a little taller. A swelling of pride filled Wolfe’s heart as he accompanied the reverend. He had a new friend, and that was nothing short of a miracle.
“Haunted Mansion restaurant okay?” the reverend asked as they made their way along the sidewalk.
“Sure.”
“I like their Thrilled Cheese sandwich.” The reverend glanced to the bushes, which rattled as he and Wolfe walked by. “Shoo! Outta here!” A couple of frolicking cats bristled, then moved deeper into the bushes, out of sight. “Those cats!”
Twenty yards away from The Haunted Mansion, Wolfe began to notice the strange looks from people. Howard the barber raced outside, nearly tripping over himself as they went by. Everyone else stopped to watch them walk along the sidewalk together.
“What’s going on?” Wolfe asked the reverend.
“I don’t know,” the reverend whispered back.
By the time they arrived at The Haunted Mansion, a small crowd had gathered, and even the strong wind couldn’t carry away the deafening silence.
“Come on,” the reverend said, nudging Wolfe into the restaurant, almost shoving him through the swarm of people. When they got inside, Wolfe heard a fork drop and saw guests at their tables staring and gawking. Looking at Wolfe, he said, “Don’t you worry about a thing. We’re going to sit down here and eat our lunch. I don’t know what’s going on, but we’ll get to the bottom of it.”
Wolfe stared at his brown boots. The unconventional witty side of him wanted to shake his head violently from side to side and scream like something out of The Exorcist, but more than a few elderly people were nearby, and that might cause a scene not even he could write. Of all these people, nobody knew him. They’d created him, so to speak—an image of him, anyway. But they didn’t know him. They didn’t know he could be funny. They didn’t know he liked old black-and-white romantic movies. And he suspected they didn’t want to know him. They’d created a tourist town around who they wanted him to be, and just by the stares he was getting while standing next to the reverend, Wolfe realized suddenly that his new spirituality was going to rock a few boats.
Then it began. The twitch. It was a twitch. Then an itch. The eyes would water, and then it would be out of his control. He imagined it was violent in nature because of his size. He was six foot four. And if he tried to hold it in, he feared his brains might blo
w out of the back of his head. But oh how he wished he had a proper sneeze. Not dainty. Just not … well …
“AAAAAHHHHHCCCCCHHHHHOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” At least a dozen people ducked. A woman screamed, something fell with a loud thud, and everyone turned to see a little old lady passed out on the ground.
But no one was helping the woman. Instead, they were all staring at Wolfe, their faces white as ghosts.
“Excuse me,” Wolfe managed, wiping his nose and sniffling. He looked at the reverend, who, although visibly astonished, didn’t seem as frightened as everyone else.
Wolfe stepped forward, and the crowd parted. He bent down next to the old woman who was starting to come to. “Ma’am? Are you all right?” Her eyes fluttered, and she nodded a bit.
Someone bent down to help the woman and give her a drink. Wolfe stood, and the reverend guided him away from the crowd. “Come on. Let’s sit over here.”
Wolfe sat with his back to the crowd. He was used to the stares. When he would come into town, people tended to stare. Usually no one approached him, though, and he was able to go about his business fairly normally. What was different this time? Was it because he was with the reverend?
The reverend glanced at the crowd, his face red. “Those people,” he mumbled. Even so, his eyes reflected compassion.
Wolfe tried to smile. “Well, I suppose they expected to see my head spin and you-know-what fly out of my mouth.”
The reverend lifted his eyebrows, then cracked a smile, and before long they were having a good laugh.
“I guess the next gossip will be that I’m performing exorcisms!” the reverend chuckled. Then his laughter subsided. “Don’t you worry about what happened back there,” he said. “We’re going to sit here and enjoy our lunch. Get to know each other. If I can flag down a waitress, we’ll get ourselves started with something to drink.”
Wolfe knew who their waitress would be. They were sitting in her section, the one she’d had for the past five years. Before that, she’d been in the smoking section near the windows on the east side of the restaurant.
Wolfe could still feel the stares in the silence, and he sank into his seat. He might be a new creation, but apparently no one knew that yet.
The wind blew even colder, and Ainsley tilted her head as it swept past. It chapped her cheeks and took her breath away. She loved the fall. The oranges and yellows and reds that painted the countryside made her want to curl up on the couch in front of a fire and read a good book. It was hard to find a good book anymore, though. The only bookstore in town stocked its shelves with tales of witches and ghosts. She checked her watch. Her break was over.
Inside, she noticed the kitchen was quiet and empty. What was going on? It was still the lunch hour. Why wasn’t anyone back in the kitchen cooking?
“Bob?”
She peeked through the order window to find a crowd standing near the door of the restaurant. As she rounded the corner, she ran into Bob.
“Well, that was eventful,” Bob said as he made his way back to the grill. “Now I’m five Queasy Quesadillas and two Bacon Boogers behind.” Ainsley followed him.
“What’s going on?”
“A sighting of our resident horror novelist.” Bob slapped two patties of meat on the grill, and they sizzled and spattered. “He’s eating lunch with the reverend right now.”
Ainsley gasped. “What?”
“I guess Miss Peeple was right on the money,” Bob said, flipping one patty into the air, then the other. He grabbed four pieces of bacon and put them next to the burgers. “I guess he’s officially converted, breaking bread with a man of the cloth and everything.”
Ainsley left the kitchen and walked through the swinging doors. The crowd was beginning to disperse, and Marlee was making her way toward Ainsley. “They’re eating lunch together!” Marlee said in an excited whisper. “Over there!” She pointed to the corner of the restaurant. “They’re in your section.”
Marlee stepped aside so Ainsley could see. Sure enough, there they were. In the corner. In her section.
“Don’t you think that means the man’s given his life to the Lord?” Marlee whispered, pretending to wipe the counter in front of her.
Ainsley folded her arms. “I don’t know,” she said. “I know Reverend Peck. He’s as genuine as anyone can be. Maybe too genuine. Maybe he’s being taken advantage of.” Ainsley glanced at Marlee, then threw her a dishtowel. “You might want to try wiping the counter down with a rag, not your hand.” She had to laugh. Marlee always got caught up in such things.
“Oh.” Marlee shrugged in embarrassment. “Sorry. I’m just in shock. I mean, who’d have thought Boo would become, you know, saved?”
Ainsley’s hands were now on her hips. “I just can’t believe it. There’s something going on here. The man has single-handedly destroyed this town with his ghost-and-goblin nonsense. I’m not going to let him destroy the faith by pretending to be something he’s not.”
“How do you know it ain’t for real?” Marlee asked, turning to pick up the order Bob called through the window.
Ainsley suddenly realized she was the only waitress available to wait on the two. It was well known by the restaurant employees that Ainsley Parker refused to wait on Wolfe Boone. She was always tactful about it. She simply asked another person to do it without making a scene. But she was afraid that she might say something rude or distasteful. She despised Wolfe Boone and everything he stood for. She knew God had told her to pray for her enemies, and she did that occasionally, but soon her emotions would succumb to outrage, and she’d find herself unable to pray at all. Over the years she had learned to live with it. But she was certainly never happy about it.
She glanced up to see the reverend waving her over. Finding another waitress nearby to wait on them was futile. All were busy, including Marlee, who was showing two middle-aged tourists how she secured her Elvira wig to her real hair.
The reverend was still waving, so Ainsley held up a polite finger and smiled, indicating she would be with them in a moment. She caught her breath and adjusted her vampire teeth.
Every time she’d prayed for Wolfe Boone, she had prayed for him to leave town. Except once, when in frustration over God’s seeming unwillingness to remove the monster, she had prayed, “Well, if you’re not going to kick him out of here, then save the rotten scoundrel!” The prayer was sincere only because she was desperate, but now as she saw him sitting with Reverend Peck, she wondered if that had been the prayer God had wanted from her all along. She swallowed hard, took out her order pad, and tucked the stray hairs of her ponytail behind her ears.
Well, God is certainly in the miracle business. And if that man has turned from his wicked ways, I might as well have seen the Red Sea part.
The reverend nodded and then looked at Wolfe. “Looks like our waitress is on the way. Ainsley Parker. Do you know her? Sweet girl. I always like to sit in her section because she gives me free refills on my soda.”
Wolfe stared at the table and shook his head. “I doubt it will be her,” he said quietly.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t think she’s too fond of me.”
The reverend folded his hands on top of the table. “Ainsley? Oh, she’s fond of everyone. Sweet, sweet girl. I’ve known her since she was born.” Wolfe looked up to see his eyes sadden. “Buried her mother when the poor girl was just seven. But she’s grown up just fine. The Lord’s taken care of her.” He paused and said, “Just like the Lord’s going to take care of you.”
Wolfe smiled at the reverend and was about to say something when he heard, “Good afternoon. What will you have today?”
Ainsley Parker stood at the end of the table, smiling a little but looking only at the reverend.
“Good afternoon, Ainsley,” the reverend said cheerily. “I’ll have two Thrilled Cheese sandwiches.”
“Extra cheese, right?” she winked.
“
Yes.” The reverend looked at Wolfe. “And this is my friend Wolfe Boone. Have you two met?”
Wolfe’s heart pounded in his chest as he met her eyes. They were the most beautiful shade of green he’d ever seen. He hadn’t ever been close enough to see her eye color before. Her blond hair was in a ponytail, and he loved that, especially when it swung from side to side as she walked. And though it seemed forced, at least she was smiling. The very fact that she was standing there taking his order was, he was quite sure, a minor miracle.
“And for you?”
“Um. Meat.”
“Meat?”
“Oaf. Loaf, I mean.” Wolfe clinched his teeth in frustration. He was an oaf if there ever was one.
Ainsley shook her head. “You want what?”
He swallowed and tried to control himself. “I’m sorry. The meatloaf.”
“The Mad Cow Meatloaf?” She said it with emphasis, as if trying to make a point, but he didn’t know what that point might be. So he just nodded. “You want Swamp Mud or Screamy Potatoes?”
“Yes.” He felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face.
“Both?”
“No.”
“None? Substitutes cost a dollar.”
“No, I mean. No … the uh, yes, I want the uh … Swamp Mud.”
“Fine. And Gory Green Beans or Creepy Corn on the Cob?”
“Green beans.”
“The Gory Green Beans?”