The last part jarred Delroy’s thoughts. Glenda hadn’t left him; he’d walked away from her, burying himself in his pain and his work, and insulating himself from all the confusing feelings he’d had over Terrence’s death.
“She stayed there, content in her service to God and she left you all alone,” the thing whispered. “She didn’t feel any pain because her blindness made sense of their deaths. But you know better, don’t you? You know that God doesn’t care about you—or anyone. Worse yet, she wouldn’t allow you your grief either, constantly at you to ‘trust the Lord.’ I know she tried to talk you out of—”
“No,” Delroy said, pulling back from the creature, suddenly aware that he had started leaning toward it.
The creature smiled sadly, and without the lightning to slash away the human image, the expression looked warm and inviting. “It’s God’s fault, Preacher. You know it is. All of this is.”
“People faultin’ God, Son,” Josiah had said on a number of occasions. “You ever notice how much trouble people get theirselves into when they start that? An’ as soon as they get theirselves well an’ truly into trouble up to their eyeballs, why they start gnashin’ their teeth an’ pulling their hair out an’ callin’ on God for help they accused Him of not givin’ in the first place.”
Delroy staggered back from the creature, his father’s words ringing in his head. That day at the funeral home, he’d asked Josiah why God hadn’t found him a better daddy, the way God had found him a good daddy. Delroy had said that God should have known Josiah was going to be a preacher and would need a good daddy to raise him up right and treat him nice.
“Maybe it wasn’t about a son havin’ a good daddy when I was born,” Josiah had answered with a slight smile. “Lookin’ back on things here at the end, I’m thinkin’ maybe the Lord knew what He was doin’ all along. Wasn’t a boy needin’ a good daddy when this was all said an’ done. Was a troubled an’ lost daddy what was needin’ a good son. You see, God made me strong enough an’ believe enough that I helped my daddy finish his life off right with death lookin’ him in the eye ever’ day. I helped my daddy find Jesus when he needed Him most. An’ I’m mighty pleased about that. Mighty pleased. Pastor Crook always told me the Lord would never give me more’n I could take care of when he helped me move into our church. Just never planned on what the Lord had to give me bein’ this much. No, sir, never planned on that at all. But that’s the way it is, Son: them surprises an’ curveballs an’ change-ups the Lord keeps throwin’ at you just to keep you good at your game.”
“Dig, Preacher,” the creature coaxed. “Dig up this box and expose the lies your God has put before you. Set yourself free.”
Glenda. Delroy kept his thoughts centered on his wife, remembering how strong her faith had been. It was the faith that she exhibited, the unshakeable certainty that everything was unfolding exactly as God had planned, that had ultimately torn them apart. She had accepted their son’s death; Delroy had not. He felt betrayed by her acceptance, then shamed because he could not find it within himself to forgive God while she trusted God’s hand in the matter.
Delroy didn’t even know if she was still … here. She had a phone. He had the number. But he had never called before leaving Washington. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to her. All he could recall was the continued pain and confusion and frustration that even long-distance contact had caused.
Delroy backed up in his son’s grave. His thighs hit the back of the hole and he almost tripped. He turned, planting the shovel handle down to use as a support to step out of the hole.
Before he could get clear, the creature moved with incredible speed to face him. “Where are you going?” it demanded. Angry sparks showed in the amber eyes as lightning blazed. Thunder underscored the question.
“Out of here,” Delroy answered. He had to tilt his head up to look at the creature. Rain spattered across his face and into his eyes.
“Dig.”
“No, sir.” Delroy looked at the hole around him and shook his head. “I’m done here. This was a mistake. I was weak. I should never have come.” He shifted and tried to step past the creature. This close to the thing, Delroy smelled the sour stench that emanated from his opponent. He didn’t remember that from their first encounter.
Moving explosively, the thing planted both hands in the center of Delroy’s chest and shoved. Delroy felt tiny claws bite into his chest, but he scarcely had time to notice them because he came up off his feet. He sailed backward, then landed off balance on his back in the watery mud at the bottom of the hole.
The creature leaned in closely, bending at the waist and shoving an accusatory forefinger forward. “You’re going to dig, Preacher.”
Delroy didn’t respond, but he heaved himself to his feet. The layer of mud that clung to him made him feel incredibly heavy. He gripped the shovel and swung it with all his strength, catching the thing in the ribs. The creature fell backward.
Surprised by his success, Delroy hesitated a moment. Then he turned and stepped across the rock toward the other end of the grave. He lifted his foot, planted it into the soft earth, and shoved up, powering himself out of the hole. He swung his head around, trying desperately to get his bearings and find the cemetery entrance as he fled.
“Preacher!” the thing roared. Then it filled the air with foul curses. Footsteps slapped against the wet graveyard grounds as it pursued him.
11
United
