Chapter 7

On such a hot, hazy and humid summer day sat a two story farmhouse all alone in a quiet valley that
overlooked two hundred acres of nothing but wheat. As much wheat as the human eye could take in all
at once.The picturesque sight lay beyond the outskirts of Cypress; no more than an hour and some ten
minutes outside of the town.

For Charles, however, driving from Cypress to the farm felt like cruising from one end of the earth to the
other.The man pulled his car into a long, dust layered driveway before coming to a complete stop in
front of a white mailbox that bore the name Holcomb on the side. He looked straight ahead at the
brown and white house where a mix breed collie, pit-bull came running and barking at him.

Charles only put the car in park and cut off the ignition before climbing out and proceeding towards the
house.

"Can I help you, sir?" A man's deep voice called out from the front screen door of the house.

With a genial smile upon his face, Charles approached the porch, only to have the man on the other
end of the screen door come out in a burst of laughter the second he could see him better.

"Well I'll be, look who it is!" The middle-aged, medium built, grey bearded white man shouted in a slight
southern twinge in his undershirt and blue overalls.

The two men hugged the life out of each other before the white man stood back and continued to
beam, "It sure has been a long time!"

Smiling right back, Charles replied, "Yes, sir, it sure has."

"What brings you all the way out here, of all places?"

"Well—



"Who are you talking to, Elmer?" A middle-aged white woman questioned as she came out the same
screen door.

"Look who it is, Ida." Elmer pointed to Charles.

Ida stood for a brief second before she clutched her chest and smiled, "My Lord, Charles...is that you?"

Still holding on to his million dollar smile, Charles gladly responded, "I'm afraid it is."

The two embraced before Ida stood back. She then skittishly glanced over at Elmer before her smile
turned into a subtle grimace.

"We're so sorry we didn't get a chance to come to the funeral, Charles." She held Charles' hands in her
own.

Blushing, Charles said, "Now you two cut that out. I didn't come all the way out here for that."

"Well, can I get you something to drink or eat?"

Exhaling, Charles said, "On this hot day, I sure could go for a sip of some of that lemonade of yours. If
you still make it, that is."

Playfully slapping Charles across his right arm, Ida answered, "Of course I still make it. You two boys
go on and play while I take care of that."

Both men watched as Ida went back into the house before Elmer studied Charles from head to toe as
though he were just fascinated with the man.

"I see old Luke still likes to play." Charles patted the bouncing dog on the head.

"Yep, we're gonna have to put him out to stud before fall gets here, though." Elmer said as he began
walking back into the house, making sure Charles was right behind him. "C'mon in, Chuck."



The two men went through the spacious, sun drenched living room that was littered with nothing but
pictures of family members from one corner to the other. Charles tried his almighty best not to allow
any of the frames to catch his eye.

Once they cleared the living room, Elmer opened a screen door that led to a back porch where two
rocking chairs were placed right beside the screened in window that overlooked the yard. Charles sat
down beside Elmer and immediately began rocking back and forth like a little boy.

"I sure do miss a rocking chair." He grinned from ear to ear.

"Yep," Elmer sighed, "Ida gets on me for falling asleep out here on this porch."

A deep silence captured the men at that moment before Elmer put his rough hands together and
murmured with a blushing face, "Me and Ida are truly sorry for not coming to the funeral, Chuck."

Charles just waved the man's apology away as to say it wasn't even necessary before he began
rocking faster in his chair.

"The snow just kept us hunkered down here like a bunch of old hermits."

Leaning forward, Charles smiled, "You stop that right now. You have nothing to be sorry for."

Elmer only humbly pressed his lips together before asking, "So...how have things been for you?"

Charles sat back in his chair and clutched the arms as if he were holding on for dear life. "I'm doin' the
best I can." He beamed.

Elmer sat and stared on at the man with a glimmer of kindness on his face and said, "I'm glad to hear
that, my friend."

"Yeah," Charles sighed, "it's been an uphill battle, but I'm pulling through."



"Sorry to interrupt." A young, blonde girl came into the porch with a platter of lemonade and two
glasses.

Elmer sat up and proudly announced, "This is our granddaughter, Lindsey."

Lindsey sat the platter down onto the small table between the men and smiled, "Grandma said to bring
you guys this."

"This here is Lindsey?" Charles' eyes lit up. "Good Lord, I haven't seen you since you were a tiny little
scratch."

Lindsey only blushed from head to toe as her grandfather took the pitcher of lemonade and began
filling both glasses.

"This here is Pastor Charles Mercer." He handed Charles his glass. "Mr. Mercer and I go way, way
back."

"Way back." Charles stared back at Elmer with a quiet and humble expression.

Both men caught themselves for a second or two before Charles looked back up at Lindsey. "So tell
me, young lady, do you get that name from the TV show?"

Giggling, Lindsey replied, "No, sir, but I get teased at school by some of the boys."

Chuckling himself, Charles said, "Me and my boy used to watch her and the 'Six Million Dollar Man' all
the time together. Tell your grandmother how much we appreciate the lemonade, darling."

"Yes, sir," Lindsey gladly responded as she turned and walked away.

Elmer began sipping on his glass. "So, everything is fine, huh?" He asked with a hint of doubt in his
tone.



Charles quit slurping on his glass. "My goodness, Ida sure does put a lot of sugar in this here
lemonade." He looked at the sweating glass. "But that's how I love it."

Elmer continued to stare on at Charles. "You didn't answer my question, Chuck." He uttered in a more
serious tone.

Charles placed the glass down onto the table before glancing up at the ceiling. "I got a call from Mr.
Jesse Jackson himself some months ago."

"Oh really," Elmer looked stunned.

"Yep, he wanted to know if I wanted to sue the police department."

"What did you end up telling him?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Charles responded, "Sue the police department for what?"

"Sue them for that officer killing your boy." Elmer reacted somewhat shocked.

Shaking his head, Charles gulped, "Elmer, no amount of money in this world is gonna...is gonna bring
that boy back to me."

Elmer sat and glared on and on at Charles. "Perhaps you can sue them for—

"I left my flock." Charles simply blurted out.

Right there, a blistering silence hung over the two men. It must have lasted for nearly an entire minute
before Elmer stroked his beard and said, "Something told me you didn't drive all the way out here just
for my wife's sugary lemonade."

Charles only grinned at the man before dolefully saying, "I left three months ago."



"And just what on earth made you do that?"

Rolling his eyes to the back of his head, Charles said, "I can't quite explain why. I guess I don't see
myself fit to lead anymore."

"That couldn't be further from the truth." Elmer adamantly proclaimed.

Sitting up in his seat, Charles said, "I sold my house. I can't even bring myself to drive by there no
more. All I do is drive around that city night and day like I'm lost."

"How are the baby and Lynnette doing?"

Sighing, Charles answered, "Lynn's mama and daddy won't even let me see the child. And as for Lynn
herself, I haven't seen her since May. She tries and tries to say that she's not, but the girl is strung out.
You know I've seen that all too many times in my past."

"Is there anything you can do to reach out to her?" Elmer desperately inquired.

"As much as I love that child, it's all for the better that I stay away from her and the baby. I ain't no good
to anyone right now."

"What in the world makes you say that, Chuck?"

Charles focused his drooping eyes at Elmer and just stared hard and long at the man. "I have reason to
believe that I'm going through what Carl went through way back in '61."

Elmer's face immediately went stone white at that instant. "You do recall that what Carl went through
ended up taking Carl's life, don't you?"

Charles only nodded his head in a nonchalant fashion before closing his eyes and clutching his hands
together.



Getting up out of his chair, Elmer stood before Charles and placed his hand on the man's shoulder
before whispering, "Let's go."

Charles opened his eyes and looked up at the man. For a brief moment all he could see was Elmer's
beard, nothing beyond that seemed to appear.

***

It was a quiet stroll amongst the tall corn stalks that sprawled for miles in every direction. The sweat
that was drooling down Charles' head was more of a relief than a burden. It let him know that he was
still feeling something within his human shell.

With Elmer right beside him, Charles, with his hands inside his pants pockets, kept his eyes pointed
straight ahead of him.

"I used to get so upset at this heat." He mumbled lightheartedly. "I reckon that's normal, being that you
live in the city."

Elmer grinned at the man. "What's funny is, when you leave a place like this, it always pulls you right
back. Places where the weeds are taller than you are."

The men continued on walking until Charles could see what looked to be a tall pole in front of a fence.
His mind was racing so much that he had to take deep breaths just to gather one thought at a time.

"I went over to that house." Charles murmured with his head down.

"I see." Elmer murmured right back.

"It was the first time I'd been there since Isaac's life was required of him that night."

"And just how did that end up going?"



Charles kept his face to the dry ground beneath his feet and said, "I need to ask you a very important
question."

"Ok."

They kept on walking until they came to the tall, wooden pole and the decrepit fence that the pole was
leaning against. Charles and Elmer themselves leaned against the crippled barrier as the sound of
cicadas shrieked from every portion of the valley.

Studying Elmer's face very meticulously, Charles gripped the fence as tight as he could. "I need to ask
you a very important question, and I also need you to be completely honest with me."

Smiling, Elmer replied, "Have you ever known me to be anything but honest with you?"

Charles braced himself. "You can laugh at me all you want, but...do you really believe in all that
demonic possession stuff they show on TV and in the movies these days?"

Appearing slightly amused, Elmer looked right back at Charles and asked, "What brings this up?"

"I know that the bible talked about it all the time, but I need to know if you believe it or not."

"How can you, of all people, not believe in it?" Elmer pointed at Charles.

Charles glanced around the area before looking back at Elmer again. "I never said that I didn't, but I
saw my boy that night before he was taken away, and something wasn't right with him."

"Well, what do you believe that something was?"

"I can't even believe I'm speaking like this, but it's the first time I've ever talked about it with anyone."

"It's just you and I out here." Elmer softly uttered.



Charles paused for a few seconds before opening his mouth. "Ever since the funeral, Satan has been
chasing me down," he stuttered.

"That's to be expected for a man of the cloth."

"No...this is something completely different." Charles grunted. "I've never been attacked like this before.
That night, Isaac came by the church needing to talk to me. The look in my boy's eyes that night wasn't
right. And I had so many people tell me that perhaps he was on drugs. I've seen addicts before; my boy
was not on drugs. Something else was wrong with him."

"So why did you ask me if I believed in demonic possession?"

Slightly grinning, Charles looked at Elmer. "Because...you white folks always seem to be the ones who
get caught up in that sort of thing."

Elmer only laughed out loud and said, "Apparently, you haven't been to Africa. They got plenty of that
behavior over there."

"I'm being serious."

"And so am I." Elmer strongly stated. "Chuck, I've known you for years, and while I've never known you
to speak like this, you're not a madman either."

"I can feel this presence surrounding me. It's dark and ugly. Isaac begged me to do an exorcism on him
that night, and maybe, just maybe, I could've done one on him. But I had seen that same look before in
his eyes, that's why I sent him to that hospital in the first place."

"Chuck, there are evil forces at work in this world the likes none of us can comprehend. People's heads
don't have to be spinning around or any kind of nonsense like that."



"But you don't understand, though." Charles obstinately replied. "This darkness follows me everywhere
I go. I sold my house not only because of all the memories, but also because this evil was there, too.
When I went over to Lynn's old house, I felt it. I even had to set some little rascals straight that day.
Elmer...I nearly killed those boys." He almost lost his breath.

Elmer just stood and gave Charles a thoughtful look as though he could see right through Charles' very
soul.

With a tear beginning to form in his left eye, Charles looked up in the hazy sky and said, "I ask the Lord
all the time, just what was my child up to, or doing in his life?"

"Isaac was a grown man. He was grown enough to make his own decisions."

"That ain't good enough for me. His mama and I raised him better than that." Charles retaliated. "That
night he was going on and on about some woman he was meeting in Cuyahoga Falls. If I could only
find out who she was, then maybe—

"Maybe what, Chuck?" Elmer cut in. "What would you do or say to this woman that would change
things?"

"I could ask her just what on earth my son was doing in his life. I stay away from Lynn and the baby for
the simple fact that I don't want this evil infecting them. But then again, I guess I can't blame that poor
girl for doing drugs; it's probably the only thing that's keeping her from going completely insane."

"What I'm curious about is, are you grieving for Isaac, or for yourself?"

Charles' heart at that painstaking moment quit beating, but only for two seconds as he glared hard at
Elmer.



"You see, Carl was a good man, no one could deny that, but what came upon him was justice. What
you're going through now is something completely different."

"But I have prayed and spoken to the Lord, and he hasn't spoken back!" Charles beat his chest. "I feel
like Abraham, like God is being silent to me! But rather than thirteen years, it's a lifetime! What evil had
my boy?" He yelled at the top of his lungs."

Elmer just stood and looked at Charles with the most pitiable appearance on his face. Slowly, the man
began to say, "If Isaac was taken over, I have a feeling that it was a very powerful spirit. And this spirit
still lives; it lives to finish its work."

Charles turned his head away from Elmer at that moment. All he could see in front of him was
overlapping land.

"Is it coming for me, Elmer?" He murmured ever so softly with his head still turned. "For all the evil I did
years ago on the streets? Is it coming to take me to hell, too?"

"You should have never left your flock, Chuck. You are still needed."

"What did you say?" But when Charles received no reply, he slowly turned his head to his left where he
thought Elmer was standing only to see a scarecrow beside him. The human that he was speaking to
was nowhere to be found all of the sudden.

Charles then gradually turned around to discover that all the tall corn stalks that he was once
surrounded by were gone as well. In its place was a barren land; seemingly long forgotten by the spirit
of time. The only thing that reminded Charles that he was still alive at that point was the ever so loud
cicadas.

He spun around like a dog chasing its own tail before he began back across the field and towards the
house.



The closer Charles made it towards the house the more he could sense something was out of place.
The very second he reached the yard the once fair looking farmhouse had a totally different
appearance. It had been on fire. One could tell by the windows that were blown out, the blackness that
marred every inch of the edifice, and by the roof that was no longer there.

Gingerly, Charles Mercer advanced towards the charred ruins of what was once a kindly home.
Through the back entrance that was missing it's door the man came through. The kitchen was
tarnished with scorch marks, as was the dining room and porch where Charles and Elmer supposedly
once sat and drank lemonade together.

Once Charles made it to the living room he just stood in the middle of the charred floor and glared all
around. The floor upon which he was standing was unstable, he could tell by the rickety floor boards.
All the pictures and frames that once layered the walls were gone, as were the sounds of cicadas that
invaded summer. It was just him inside the destroyed home.

Suddenly, an awful sense of hopelessness chocked Charles. The man dropped his arms to the side
before giving the house one final look. But before he could even take one step upon the weak floor, a
scratching noise from behind him caught his attention.

Charles stood perfectly still for a few seconds before he turned only his head to see a closet door
slightly ajar. The racket wasn't rambunctious by any means, but it was jarring enough for the man's
heart to beat rapidly. Soon, his hopelessness was replaced with fear.

At first he figured it to be a rodent within the closet, but the scratching was keeping a rhythm, almost
like it was telling him to come and see just what was within. He could barely catch his breath.Charles
wanted to utter a rebuke, but instead, he held his tongue, turned and walked out where the front door
used to be.



He kept on walking until he stopped in the middle of the yard to find Luke's filthy looking bowl still lying
on the ground right next to an empty hen stable.

Charles stood next to his car while staring back at the house and the desolate land that lay behind it.
There was the Holcomb's mailbox, still as white and pristine as the day it was first purchased standing
beside Charles, reminding him of yesterday.

All of the sudden, the sweat that was dripping down his face was getting on his last nerve. He wiped it
away before climbing into his vehicle and leaving.


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