The Reverend strode purposefully towards his quarry, pointed at him, and shouted:
“Oi! Coco the clown! Bog! Now! Move it!”
Not even breaking his stride, the clergyman jerked his thumb in the general direction of the privy, and continued on his way. Startled, Dave limped off after him to see what the fuss was, still ploughing through the mountain of sticky pink floss.
Inside the Privy, the Reverend immediately began tearing a sizeable strip off a decidedly nonplussed Dave.
“Have you any idea of the peril that you have placed not only yourself, but our entire community in? By opening up this portal and inviting Hariman here, you could bring obliteration to us all!”
Dave shrugged his sloped shoulders in confusion and began blithely parroting the point of view that had been carefully spoon-fed to him by Hariman and the Nutters.
“Don't be so daft, Rev. The Doc and his friends are just planning to set up a charity, that's all – to offer a helping hand to those who deserve it. The Doc says his organisation will benefit of all those who choose to commit themselves to its cause; will help them rise in the world like – like a bright morning star…”
The Reverend’s already manic eyes nearly popped out of his head: “M-Morning Star?” Whatever fears that he might have had previously of Hariman had now been magnified a hundredfold. “Those were his very words?”
Dave nodded, smugly.
“You bog-eyed, bungling, banjo-twanging twonk! The Morning Star! Lucifer, Son of The Morning! Does that name ring any bells with you, Einstein? Lucifer?! The Apostate? The Fallen Angel? Satan?! And you – yes, YOU! – have contracted yourself to him. Consigned yourself to him. Do you honestly think in your wildest, most deluded, demented dreams, that Hariman, Nutter, Devizes or, God help us all, Lucifer himself, could give a tinker’s cuss for your benefit or well being in this entire charade?”
The Reverend was seething.
“Don't kid yourself, David. Once your usefulness to this pack of jackals is over, you will be tossed aside into the abyss and forgotten about within the same instant. And understand this, David. If that happens, there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that you, I, nor indeed any other power, here or Above, can do about it. Do I make myself clear? Hariman may be able to give you some tiny token or trinket – a modicum of pleasure, a taste of worldly success – for some small, insignificant time, here in Widdowshins. But, David, mark this well: Eternity is a very long time... You may think that waiting for the 506 bus on a cold rainy morning takes forever. But that is nothing in comparison with Eternal Damnation – especially when you have signed a pact that will condemn you to spend that time in suffering and pain. Come, David. Take my hand. Take it, now. Renounce Hariman. Reject his Master, and all his works. Do it now. Please. Then together we can go forward and banish him, back to the nether regions where he belongs. Do it now and I swear that you will be absolved and everything will be OK.”
The bewildered Postman stared at the Reverend's impassioned, earnest, pleading face and his outstretched hand. His eyes narrowed suspiciously behind his large, round, glasses. Finally, he shook his head and let out a long, low whistle from between his teeth.
“Have you finished? Phew!... Man... You have really have flipped your wig this time... I don’t know whether to laugh or call for a van to come and take you away. All this stupid talk of Devils, demons, hobgoblins, ghoulies, ghosties and fings wot go bump in the night. Pure tosh, the lot of it. Hariman told me you'd try something like this. He said you’d even claim that he was Old Nick himself! He warned me not to listen. He knew you’d be jealous because I’m going to be a major player and you’ll only have a bit part, scrambling for the crumbs while I'm at the head table making all the really big important decisions.”
“David... David, please. You have to listen to me...”
“Nah. I don't think so. You’re crazy.... Ta-ta, Padre. I’m off”.
With that, he shook his bespectacled head once again in bemusement, turned his back on the Reverend and shuffled out of the privy.
The door swung back shut on its own, with a forlorn clatter against the latch.
Reverend Phullaposi was alone. And at that moment, he felt it; totally and utterly. He turned his head heavenward, breathed out a long, long sigh and then yelled from the very bottom of his lungs:
“Give me strength!”
Chapter 19
Nephthys Knight
Ruby’s tent was still closed to the public. She had summoned Magpie Jack, Tobias and Pearl back to her tiny fabric fortress for one final briefing. Once they had all arrived and stopped jostling and mumbling to each other, she began:
“As I have already intimated to you all, I have stumbled upon an important fixture within our parish, namely, The Privy of Simon. Yes, it would seem that the humble outhouse in the churchyard is in reality a portal to other dimensions and reality levels; between this world and other, darker domains. Not only that, but it has already been used by followers of the Left Hand Path for evil means; to summon a certain malevolent entity here to Widdowshins. An entity currently masquerading as a member of the medical profession.”
There was an audible gasp from those in the tent. Even Tobias gasped, though he wasn’t sure why. Everything Ruby was saying sounded big, important and scary, however, so he supposed that if he ever were going to gasp, then this would be the right time to do it.
“In order to close down this pernicious little passageway and to return the horrible Dr Hariman to his rightful abode from which he should never have been allowed to escape from in the first place, we must employ
