None of them were correct. Like many men, they presumed to know not only the mind of God, but of His enemies as well. In reality, flying was a combination of both theories. Transvection involved a displacement of the inner self—what some people called an “out of body experience.” Levi’s staff had been cut and cured according to the rules, and then lathered with a special home-brewed oil that seeped into the wood. Holding the stick in a certain way, Levi could indeed leave his body and “fly.”
He just didn’t like to.
Levi sat the rod beside him and locked the box again. Then he picked up the stick, climbed down from the buggy, and gave Dee a kiss on the nose, stroking the horse’s thick mane.
“I’m ready. Stay here and mind the groceries. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
The horse stared at him with sad, brown eyes.
“Now don’t you start with that, Dee. I’m about to undertake the Lord’s work. It’s not like I have a choice. If I don’t do it, who will?”
Dee snorted, then lowered her head and closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry, girl.”
Levi glanced around the empty parking lot. He needed seclusion, some place where he wouldn’t be discovered or disturbed. The back of the buggy was out, as were the street and sidewalk. He considered using the grocery store’s rest-room, but decided against that as well. What if somebody came in while he was out, and they removed the stick from his hands?
That would be bad. Without the physical tether, his astral form would have no means of staying anchored to his body. Unable to return, he’d simply float away.
He tied Dee’s bridle to a light pole so the horse wouldn’t wander away. Then he chocked the buggy’s wheels. Finished, Levi quickly walked across the parking lot and crept around the side of the building. Behind the grocery store sat three large, green garbage Dumpsters. Beyond them was a vacant lot, choked with dead weeds and debris. The sight made him sad. Why didn’t the town do something with the lot? Perhaps turn it into a park for children. Make it green again. Fill it with life and good things.
He squeezed between the Dumpsters, breathing through his mouth. The small space reeked of curdled milk, spoiled food, and urine. Frowning, Levi studied the pavement, looking for a spot that was free of broken glass, cigarette butts and other trash. Pickings were slim. He swept some of the debris out of the way with his shoe and then crouched down, satisfied. He lay back, stretched out, and positioned the stick between his legs. He lowered it, the tip touching his nose while the other end remained clenched tightly between his thighs. The phallic symbolism was not lost on him, but he ignored it. This was how it was done.
Grasping the staff with his fists, he closed his eyes and exhaled. He forced himself to relax, tuned out the sounds of traffic and the public address system inside the store, over which the manager was calling for a cleanup in aisle seven. A late-season gnat flitted around his face, but he ignored it. Levi shut out the world and focused on his breathing. He couldn’t feel the hard pavement beneath him. Couldn’t feel the pebbles digging into his back or the breeze on his skin. All he felt was the wood. All he heard was his heartbeat. His ears hummed. His pulse slowed. Within minutes, he’d entered a trance. His arms and legs began to tingle, as if asleep.
And then he was gone.
Levi tried not to scream.
Maria stepped into the tree line and followed the path. The Ghost Walk’s trail was clearly marked. Both sides were outlined with something that glowed white in the darkness. It was almost phosphorescent. Curious, she bent over and touched it. It felt cool and dry. Powdery. She sniffed her fingertips. Lime.
“Pretty smart.”
Even without her flashlight, she’d have been able to see where she was going because of the lime, but she kept it turned on just the same. The beam held the darkness at bay and made her feel more secure. She wasn’t afraid of ghosts or any of the other folklore connected to the area. But there were animals out here. Raccoons, possums, deer, coyotes, maybe even black bear. The light would keep them at a distance.
She hoped.
Maria shivered, pulling her hood tighter. It was colder here in the woods than it had been out in the open field. This struck her as odd. The trees should have acted as a windbreak of sorts, making the forest’s interior warmer than the field. She stuck her free hand in her pocket. The other gripped the flashlight. She sniffed the air and caught a faint hint of burning leaves, even though there was no fire, as far as she could tell.
“Hello?” She stopped walking. “Mr. Ripple? It’s Maria Nasr, from the paper. We had an appointment?”
Something rustled overhead. Off to her right, a twig snapped in the darkness.
“Who’s there?”
The noise ceased.
Maria took a deep breath and continued on. She swept the flashlight beam back and forth, illuminating both sides of the trail. As she rounded a curve in the trail, Maria gasped, startled. A figure loomed overhead, slowly swaying back and forth. She heard a creaking sound. Maria swung the light upward, illuminating a hanged dummy.
“Jesus Christ…”
She passed by more attractions. There was a guillotine, its phony blade covered with tinfoil and red paint. A dummy sat propped against it. Next came a section of trail that had been lined with tied-together cornstalks. Plaster skulls, rubber bats, and other trinkets hung from mosquito netting overhead. This was followed by a giant bird’s nest, complete with an animatronic pterodactyl, turned off for the night. The path went right through the center of the nest, which was littered with fake body parts and a generous amount of red paint for blood. Maria had to admit, it was sort of neat. Not her type of thing, but she could see where others would enjoy this. It was certainly more creative than just dressing in a sheet, jumping out at someone, and shouting, “Boo!”
She pulled out her cell phone to check the time, and realized that Terry Klein had been right when he said service was spotty in the forest. She had no signal beneath the trees. That meant she couldn’t call Ripple and find
