A Small Town

Chapter Twenty\ Death Bed

         

Bax slid the pages into the envelope and put it back into his duffle bag, heaping clothes on top until it was out of sight. He had read every word and then gone back and read it all again in disbelief. He knew he would have to show it all to Lisa, but not yet.

He took off his clothes and rolled under the covers in his boxers with no thought of sleep. His mind reeled with questions, but deep down he knew he would not like the answers.

When Lisa came to bed he pretended to be asleep and she quickly turned out the light and snuggled up against him. He felt a lump suddenly fill his throat and squeezed his eyes shut against a pang of guilt and sorrow that was almost overwhelming.

He lay still beside her, listening as her breathing became deep and regular, and her body relaxed in sleep. He waited as the minutes dragged by, needing to be sure she would not wake.

Finally, when he was positive it was safe he eased himself out of the bed and crept out the room. He dressed in the hallway, made his way downstairs, put on his coat and boots then slipped out onto the street.

The night was incredibly cold and a chill played up his spine like fingers on a piano. Bax gasped and hunched his body against it, ramming his hands into his pockets and ducking his head down into his collar for warmth. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the moon hung huge overhead surrounded by a million stars to light his way.

Bax crossed the deserted main road and quickly ran through the small park, passing within a few feet of the Wishing Well. He moved to the back of the church and as he came around the corner he saw a pale uneven light in the upstairs window of the rectory.

The door was unlocked and opened soundlessly as he turned the handle. Ahead of him was a narrow hallway on the right and long straight flight of stairs to the second floor on the left. He climbed them slowly so as to not make a sound but he need not have bothered.

"Jeffrey?" The voice was thin and high, not at all the way it had sounded the last time they had spoken.

Bax was halfway up the stairs and now he stopped.

He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "Yes, it's me..."

There was a ragged intake of air above him and the voice spoke again. "I thought so... I'm glad you've come..."

Bax didn't move, he was holding his breath. Part of him demanded he turn and run but his feet seemed glued to the spot.

After a long pause, there was a cough and another wheezy breath. "Please, come up Jeffrey... we need to talk."

Bax started to walk up the steps, feeling as though he were in a dream. He closed his eyes and tried to feel the pillow under his head and Lisa pressed tight against his back but opened them again quickly. This was not a dream, but perhaps it was a nightmare.

He stepped up onto the landing, there were three doors but only one had a sliver of light beneath it and Bax opened that door before he could change his mind. The room was small and spartan. Three small oil lamps cast a flickering light upon the narrow bed, giving its occupant a sickly yellow pallor. Bax would have sworn the man was dead, but then he moved and attempted a toothless smile.

"Pastor Black..."

The priest shook his head with some difficulty. "Please, call me William," said the old man.

Bax nodded. He looked around in amazement. There was nothing in the room except for the bed and one hardbacked chair. This man should be in a hospital, but there wasn't even an IV drip or a nurse to watch over him. Just a thin old man alone in a tiny room.

Bax pulled the chair over to the side of the bed and the sound of the legs scraping across hardwood seemed almost deafening. He sat down and, moving faster than Bax would have ever believed possible, Pastor Black reached out grasped his hand. The old man's grip was astonishingly strong and it took all of Bax's will to not wrench himself free.

This close Bax could smell the sickness upon William Black. His breath reeked of stale vomit and rotting teeth. The room itself had a medical antiseptic odour mixed with something like mothballs. Probably coming from the bed linen, Bax guessed.

"I'm dying, Jeffrey." Black wheezed.

It was a statement of fact and Bax saw no reason to argue it. Instead, he responded with his own fact.

"You lied to us."

The old man nodded wearily, his watery blue eyes searched Bax's face. "Yes. I've spent so many years lying, I'd almost come to believe the lies myself."

There was a hint of self-pity in the man's voice that angered Bax but he pushed the feeling away, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

"I found Hennessey's notes."

Black's eyes seemed to widen slightly but it could have been a trick of the lamplight.

"I see... were they in the hotel?" He asked.

Bax nodded. "Yes."

"I figured as much." Black's grip loosened on Bax's hand and he drew it back, unconsciously wiping his palm on the leg of his jeans.

Bax leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. "So why don't we start back at the beginning? This time you can tell me what really happened and why I'm here."

"That's exactly what I want to do, Jeffrey." There was a sudden pain in his eyes and as Bax watched Black's claw-like hand rose to his chest in a fist as he strained and then went slack.

Bax leaned forward, hovering over him. "Are you alright?"

Black nodded and gasped for breath. After a moment he was still again. "I don't have much time, but I'll tell you everything I know."

Bax nodded and sat back in his chair as the old man began to speak.