♬They press their lips against you
And you love the lies they say
And I tried so hard to reach you
But you're falling anyway
♬And you know I see right through you
'Cause the world gets in your way
What's the point in all this screaming?
You're not listening anyway♬
"Very nice, guys, thanks," Simon said. He sat on Eli's porch, playing with some of the townsfolk of Gibeah as the sun set over the hill. They had enjoyed the hospitality for two days as their pilot recovered, and had not seen the creature since the crash. Simon was beginning to feel comfortable there, although the residents of Gibeah still acted uneasy around the strangers. "I really like the mandolin addition, it fills out the song really well."
"Well, thanks," Eli said, "I try to contribute where I can. Let's not forget my great uncle Zeke on the banjo, well done, sir!"
"Many thanks," Zeke said. "These old bones don't move about so well anymore, but when the music is on these hands still have some life left in 'em!"
"I'm surprised you're such a music lover, Reverend, since you didn't sing during the worship service the other morning," Debbie said.
"Everything in its proper place, Deborah," the Reverend said. "In the same vein, when I am not occupying the pulpit of the Most High, please call me Phineas."
"Is that why you only use the Old English in the sermon?" Milton asked. "Speaking about a god requires special language?"
"In a way, Milton," Phineas said. "The wider world has dropped the familiar forms, as have we. And perhaps this is fitting, as familiar relations seem less honored than they once were, yes? Our intimate affections are to be available to all, and yet to none at the same time. But when speaking for the Maker of Man, how can there be any form except the familiar?"
"You strike me as funny people," Milton said. "Your ways seem almost backward, even in these reduced times, yet you have a certain logic that I find it hard to fault. You're not the backwoods hillbillies I expected to find in the lost hills of West Virginia."
"Then you just don't know us well enough yet," Eli said, smiling. "Three days is hardly enough time, I guess. We have our share of tobacco-spitting Ewells here."
"To Kill a Mockingbird," Simon said. "Nice reference."
"So you've got your share of bibliophiles, too," Debbie said.
"I probably read more than the average person in town," Eli said. "More fiction, anyway. We all read the Bible regularly."
"As well as a variegated assortment of more arcane and blasphemous scriptures, for some," Phineas said.
"Has that been a problem in the town for a long time?" Debbie asked.
"Dear me," Phineas said, "how can I answer such a question? Occult meddlings have plagued the chosen people since Sinai, so in that sense our fathers brought the problem with them when they got here. But with specific bearing on Gibeah, no. We prided ourselves on the centrality of the true Gospel when the town was built. The chapel in which we still worship was specifically placed at the center of the town to serve as a keystone, a structure by which the town itself stands or falls just as our salvation stands or falls by the Word of the King.
"It wasn't until my father's generation that the whisperings started. A few of the townsfolk had grown restless with following the same ways as our parents. A miner gave a gift to one of the congregants as a curiosity: a dark book written by a mad Arab, supposedly found in the dust of the mine itself.
"Still, even then we would not have allowed anyone to practice the evil in the book, but the book remained. Now, it has become a second baptism for most of my sheep, a calf in Bethel to lead them on the path of a heathen god."
"Is it really so serious? I mean, exploring other religions will surely lead them to whichever one is truest, wouldn't you think?" Milton said.
"If the heart of man were true, then exploring that heart would lead to truth," Phineas said. "But the heart of man loves evil continually, and will never keep from evil unless it be forced away by Divine power. If it turns back to explore evil again, the eternal salvation that once was sure may be gone forever."
"See, right there I'm not quite sure where you're coming from," Simon said. "In one breath you say that only God can change a man's heart, and in the next you say men can change their own back again. It can't be both ways, can it?"
"Yes, exactly," Milton said. "Are you a determinist, or a libertarian?"
"I am a Minister of the Word of the Most High," Phineas said. "If the Word says God must act, so say I. And if the Word says man must choose, so say I. And when it says both, I say both; I sort it out as best I can and feel no anxiety when I can't. The Word won't bear the labels you wish to give it, and so I will not humor such questions from the laity any further than that."
"Well, then," Debbie said. "I guess that settles the matter."
"Eli, do you believe this sort of thing?" Milton asked.
"I... would rather not get into it tonight," Eli said. "I just wanted you all to come over and enjoy some music."
"But what about you, Simon? Do you believe in this?" Milton asked.
"Sometimes," Simon said. "I used to believe it. Sometimes I still believe it with all my heart. But sometimes I think about everything that's happened, about how awful and empty and meaningless everything can be, and it all just sounds like... I don't know, children's stories. Fairy tales." He began plucking at his guitar.
♫Very superstitious, writing's on the wall,
Very superstitious, ladder's 'bout to fall,
Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin' glass
Seven years of bad luck, the good things in your past.
When you believe in things that you don't understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition ain't the way
♫Very superstitious, wash your face and hands,
Rid me of the problem, do all that you can,
Keep me in a daydream, keep me goin' strong,
You don't wanna save me, sad is my song.
When you believe in things that you don't understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition ain't the way, yeh, yeh.
♫Very superstitious, nothin' more to say,
Very superstitious, the devil's on his way,
Thirteen month old baby, broke the lookin' glass,
Seven years of bad luck, good things in your past
When you believe in things that you don't understand,
Then you suffer,
Superstition ain't the way♫"What's this about superstitious folk? I can't stand 'em." Rod, the man who had rescued them after the crash, walked up to the porch. His long, raven colored hair and Amish beard, accompanied by his black clothing, highlighted his face atop his very tall frame.
"Rod! I didn't expect you tonight," Eli said as the two men embraced.
"I just thought I'd stop by between here and there," Rod said. "I saw it hovering over the mine again today. I'm not sure we'll ever be rid of the beast."
"You mean that thing that attacked us?" Simon said. "What is it?"
"We've got lots of guesses," Rod said, "but that's really all they are. We don't really know. The preacher here has a pretty fantastic theory, though. Good evening, Phin." Phineas nodded at Rod coldly, but did not speak.
"What do you think it is?" Debbie asked.
"I don't 'think', I know," Phineas said. "As surely as I know my own face, I recognized him when he arrived. I've been expecting him."
"Him?" Milton said. "An old business partner of yours?"
"Something like that, yes," Phineas said. "I shan't bore you with it, though. It would be foolishness to you."
"Phineas, please," Eli said. "They want to learn, not to mock. Don't you?"
"I do, anyway," Debbie said.
"Actually, I think the Reverend is right, I am likely to merely mock," Milton said. "And after that rousing rendition of Stevie Wonder, I wouldn't expect much else from Simon here."
"I'm just playin'," Simon said. "I'll leave the arguments to you guys."
"Say, if you're playing, I'll join in for a song," Rod said. "Eli, you still have that old fiddle in the parlor?" Eli nodded as Rod entered the house.
"I must take my leave, then," Phineas said. "Rest well, all of you. Eliezar, thank you as always for your hospitality." He began to walk away. "Oh, and don't venture out tonight. It would be a poor evening to learn too much about our town. Don't let them wander, Eliezar; these things are not their concern." With that, he walked away, back toward the chapel.
"What did that mean?" Debbie said.
"Is he going back to the church?" Milton said.
"Several nights each month he lights candles in the chapel and prays until dawn," Eli said. "He doesn't like to be disturbed. It's usually nights when Rod is gone until morning. Are you going tonight, Rod?"
"I am," Rod called from inside. "Would you like to join me? You'll never regret it."
"Not tonight, thanks," Eli said.
"Alright, I figure I'll keep asking," Rod said. "You might change your mind. The things these hills can show you in the night."
"Things like that 'beast' of yours?" Simon said.
"That's just scratching the surface," Rod said. "The high hills, the caves, the deep wells... this country is full of more secrets than anyone from the outside would imagine."
"You're amazingly calm for a man who has to scare off a flying sea worm with a hatchet," Simon said.
"'Flying sea worm'?" Milton said. "What do you mean?"
"Well, isn't that sort of what it looked like?" Simon said.
"That's not what I saw at all," Milton said. "Not that I saw it clearly, mind you, what with all the smoke. But nothing so fantastic as all that."
"What smoke?" Simon said. "Debbie, you saw it right? What did it look like to you?"
"I don't know, some kind of animal," Debbie said.
Simon began to feel self-conscious as he realized his mind may have run away with him. It wouldn't be the first time.
"Truth is, no two people see it the same," Rod said as he came back with the fiddle and a drink. Eli raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Rod waved him off. "It's not a thing that belongs to this world, so I figure our eyes just aren't made to see it right. In any case, I prefer to think about things closer to the earth, the here and now. Making up stories isn't going to get us anywhere, and frankly it makes my head hurt."
"Something I can relate to," Simon said. "What do you want to play?"
"Here's an old one you ought to know," Rod said. "Uncle Zeke, let's see if those quick fingers of yours can keep up."
♫The fox went out for a chase one night
Prayed to the moon to give him light
For he had many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o town-o town-o
He had many a mile to go that night
Before he reached the town-o.
♫He ran right up to the farmer's pen
Ducks and the geese were kept therein
He said a couple of you gonna grease my chin
Before I leave this town-o town-o town-o
A couple of you gonna grease my chin
Before I leave this town-o.
♫He grabbed the gray goose by the neck
Slung the little one over his back
He didn't mind the quack quack quack
And the legs all dangling down-o down-o down-o
He didn't mind the quack quack
And the legs all dangling down-o.
♫Old Mother Pitter Patter jumped out of bed
Out of the window she popped out her head yelling
John, John, the gray goose is gone
And the fox is on the town-o town-o town-o
John, John, the gray goose is gone
And the fox is on the town-o.
♫John he ran to the top of the hill
Blew his horn both loud and shrill
The fox said I'd better flee with my kill
For he'll soon be on my trail-o trail-o trail-o
The fox said I'd better flee with my kill
For he'll soon be on my trail-o.
♫He ran right up to his cozy den
There were his little ones, eight, nine, ten
They said daddy won't you please go back again
For it must be a mighty fine town-o town-o town-o
Daddy wont you please go back again
For it must be a mighty fine town-o.
♫The fox and his wife without any strife
Cut up the goose with a fork and knife
They'd never had such a supper in their life
And the little ones chewed on the bones-o bones-o bones-o
They never had such a supper in their life
And the little ones chewed on the bones.♫"Hot damn, that was good!" Rod said. "You're pretty good there, stranger!"
"Well, thank you," Simon said, "you're none too shabby yourself."
"Gotta keep busy around here somehow," Rod said. "Speaking of which, I'd better get a move on. Eli, last chance."
"I'll see you in the morning, Rod," Eli said. "I've got some reading to do, anyway."
"Suit yourself," Rod said. "How about you, Uncle Zeke? It'd be a good night for it."
"You know," old Zeke said, "I think I will. If you can be patient with me, that is." He stood slowly and picked up his rustic, homemade cane.
"Very good," Rod said. "Gentlemen. Lady." Rod and Zeke left in the direction of the woods. They carried no light, although what looked like several candle lights seemed to be moving in the same direction further in.
"So your friend ought to be on his feet in another day or two," Eli said. "What will you all do then?"
"We were sent here with a mission," Milton said. "I suppose we should try to follow it. I, at least, will head down the mountain into Greenfield. Is it far?"
"Not too far. It's rough traveling by foot, it might take a day's walk or a bit more," Eli said. "You can go right past the mine and straight into town. I've gotta say, though, I'm not sure what you expect to find. The ghoulish folk came up from that way in droves. Are you just looking for survivors, or anyone in particular?"
"My brother lived there," Simon said. "He worked in the mine."
"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope he's all right," Eli said.
"Me too," Simon said, "although I don't know what I'll say if I find him."
"If it were me," Eli said, "I'd just say 'I love you.' Anything else is just extra, isn't it?"
Simon smiled. "You're a good man, Eli."
"Hey, will you play us one more?" Eli said. "Then you'd all better get back to the infirmary. I don't want to have Phineas asking me why you were still up and poking around so late."
"Sure thing," Simon said.
♬If I get murdered in the city
Don’t go revengin' in my name
One person dead from such is plenty
No need to go get locked away
♬ When I leave your arms
The things that I think of
No need to get over-alarmed
I’m comin' home
♬I wonder which brother is better
Which one our parents love the most
I sure did get in lots of trouble
They seemed to let the other go
♬A tear fell from my father’s eyes
I wondered what my dad would say
He said I love you
And I’m proud of you both, in so many different ways
♬If I get murdered in the city
Go read the letter in my desk
Don’t bother with all my belongings
But pay attention to the list
♬Make sure my sister knows I loved her
Make sure my mother knows the same
Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name
Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing
Like the love that let us share our name♬
"A most pleasant evening," Milton said as they walked toward the infirmary where they were staying.
"Yes, it was," Debbie said.
A faint sound of drums rolled from the woods. "Most curious," Milton said. "You know, I don't think I'm quite ready for the evening to end just yet. Would either of you care to see what the hubbub in the woods is about?"
"I think we really should check on..." Simon began.
"He's asleep, he's always asleep," Milton said. "He'll be fine for another half hour. I'm dying to know what's got that codger of a priest so nervous. Are you coming? Debbie?"
"We probably shouldn't," Debbie said, "but I am interested. They don't seem the sorts to gun us down for exploring. I don't know..."
"Tell you what, you can catch up," Milton said as he marched off into the woods.
"That is such a bad idea," Simon said. "That's how horror stories start."
"Simon," Debbie said, "you're suffering from PTSD and survivors guilt from having lived through the end of the world, we just crashed our zeppelin due to an attack by an otherworldly creature, and this is the part where you think the horrors will start? Milton, I'm coming too." She took off after him.
"Debbie!" Simon said. This is such a bad idea, he thought.
Simon kept after them until he could see a light up ahead in the woods. It was easy traveling for how dark it was. He was walking on what seemed like a well beaten path; whatever was going on out here must have happened before. As the light grew stronger he could make out human figures amid what seemed to be several bonfires.
As Simon caught up with Debbie, he could see much more clearly what was going on. The drums had become quite loud. Many people, presumably townsfolk, were dancing between four fires. Most of them were entirely naked, jumping and writhing to the drum beats. In the center of the fires there was a stone well, but light came up through the well. It was a peculiar light of indescribable color. The ground around the well seemed to be crystallized and reflecting or glowing with this same bizarre color that Simon couldn't quite make out. Some of the dancers were chanting in a language Simon had never heard before. One of the dancers was closer to him, and he caught a glimpse of her eyes. They seemed almost dead, covered in an ink-like substance. It sent chills down his back.
Debbie was frozen in place ahead of him. "Debbie," Simon whispered. "We need to leave. Now."
"Look," she said.
Several people were gathering around the well, including one wearing a robe of animal skins. Another walked forward guiding a man, bent with age. Simon recognized the rustic, homemade cane carried by the naked old man.
"Where is Milton?" Simon whispered. Debbie gestured to their left, very close to one of the fires. Milton peered out from behind a tree with a look of fascinated horror on his face.
The robed figure led the old man up to the well. The chanting had accelerated, and the dancers were ecstatic. The drum beat was deafening. Suddenly, the drums and chanting stopped as the robed figure grabbed the old man by the hair and swung a tomahawk across the old man's throat. The priest held the man's head above the well as blood poured down into it; with one hand, the priest then pulled the man over, tossing him head first down the well. The cane fell to the earth silently; only the roar of the fires could be heard.
"Wha..."
Simon spun toward the uncontrolled utterance that Milton had released. He looked back at the cultists to see if they heard him. For several seconds no one moved. Then the robed figure lowered his arms. He immediately spun to look directly at Milton. The jet black mane was unmistakable; the cult priest was Rod, his eyes as inky as the rest.
Rod's body let loose a terrible, inhuman shriek that Simon recognized all too well.
He grabbed Debbie by the arm and began to run. Back the way they came, he pulled her along without looking back.
"No, no!" They heard Milton cry out. Still they ran. They ran along the path until they could see the edges of the town buildings. They continued to run until they saw the flickering lights of the candles in the windows of the chapel. Simon pulled Debbie behind him until they reached the chapel door. He pounded on it until it opened, with Phineas standing in the doorway holding a cross.
"There was... Zeke... well... and Milton... they..." Simon tried to say, but couldn't catch his breath from the running.
Phineas lowered his head, mouthed something in Latin, and looked up. "Your friend is lost," Phineas said. "You were right to leave him. Did he see either of you?"
"Wha... what?" Simon said.
"Did he see you? The hunter-priest, did his eyes catch sight of yours, either of you, or only your friend?" Phineas asked insistently.
"I... don't think he saw..." Simon said.
"Maybe," Debbie said.
"What?" Simon said.
"As I was turning," Debbie said, "I think he may have seen me."
"Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!" Phineas said. "Take this." He handed her the cross from his hands. "And whatever you have on your persons. Do not stop until you reach the city. And may God have mercy upon you. Nimrod will have none."
Phineas looked at the both of them. "Don't stand here, you fools. Run! RUN!"
Don't miss next month's episode, Evil Is Alive.
Check out this episode's songs:
The Fox (Traditional), performed by Nickel Creek
Murder in the City by The Avett Brothers
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