Something Bad (42 page)

Reverend Sather gave a “thank-you” nod. “Don’t mind if I do. I’ll have the special.”

Gabe motioned to the waitress, who was halfway to the booth. “Two specials, please.” She was nothing like Deena Lee. About ten years older and at least thirty pounds heavier. But she had a friendly smile. Gabe’s eyes followed her retreat behind the counter. Reverend Sather brought him back to the booth.

“Gabe, what is it that’s bothering you about the baptism ceremony?”

Gabe didn’t make eye contact. “How’ve things been going for you, Reverend? Any strange stuff happening around your place?”

Reverend Sather frowned. “Nothing strange has been happening to me. What kind of things are you talking about?”

Gabe peered out the window. It was still clear. “How’s the missus? She still teaching that pre-school Sunday School class before service?”

Reverend Sather leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “She’s fine. Yes, she’s got about seven young ones who show up regularly. She really likes the little ones. We’ve been trying to have one of our own, but we haven’t succeeded yet. Because of that, she really dotes on them. Thank you for asking after her.” He leaned a little farther forward. “Now, what was it you wanted to do for the baptism?”

Gabe looked outside again. The sun beat in through the window without a hint of fog. “I can’t go into all I want to do right now. There are some things I’d like, so I wrote them down.” He slid a sealed envelope across the table to the Reverend. “Take a look at this later, when you go home. But I have to ask an important favor.” His look turned serious. “If there’s a fog outside, don’t open the letter until the fog’s gone. After you read it, burn it up. And don’t discuss it with the Missus if there’s a fog. Make sure the sky’s clear first. Can you do that?”

Reverend Sather looked out the window, then back at Gabe. “Gabe, is everything all right with you?”

Gabe looked at his watch. The minute hand clicked from eleven twenty-nine to eleven-thirty and he stiffened as a rolling mist surrounded the café—the bright light in the booth dimmed as the sun was eclipsed. Gabe watched Reverend Sather sit hard against the booth back.

Gabe paused as the waitress placed overflowing plates of food in front of the two of them, and he nodded his thanks. And waited for her to leave.

Reverend Sather looked outside again. “Gabe, what’s going on here? What’s with the fogs? Is there something I should know?”

Gabe noticed a hitch in the Reverend’s voice. But he couldn’t explain right now. He had a job to do. “Well, Reverend, I was thinking about how Deena Lee hasn’t been baptized, and how she really wants to be. You think you can give her a dunking at the same time as Cory Dean? It’d be a real treat to her. I know she’s talked to you about it, but I don’t think we ever discussed how to do it. Can you do them both at the same time?”

Reverend Sather looked out again at the dim grayness that was a brightly lit day only moments before. He seemed confused. “Umm … what?” He shook hid head a little as if he were trying to clear out some thoughts that didn’t belong there. “Umm … yes. I can do both Deena Lee and Cory Dean at the same time. Is that what you brought me here to ask?”

Gabe remained cheerful. “I wanted to make sure we worked out the change in the ceremony so it was special to both of them. Can you do Cory Dean first? You can read all the scriptures and say all the words together, but I want Cory Dean dunked first. That okay?”

Reverend Sather ignored the fog. “We don’t dunk anyone. I thought you knew that. We just pour some water over their foreheads.”

“It’s just a figure of speech. I was at Teddy Jr.’s baptism, so I know how it goes.”

The Reverend dug his fork into the mound of food on his plate, causing some to spill from the edge onto the table. The fork didn’t leave the plate. “Well then, yes. I can dunk Cory Dean first. Is there anything else you want said?”

Gabe paused while he swallowed. Teddy was in good form with the special. “Can you say something about how wonderful it is for a normal baptism, but since this one’s for a baby and his momma, it makes the ceremony extra special? Makes it an incredibly special day.”

The Reverend’s grin lasted only a moment. “I can work that thought in almost as you said it. It’s really a special day for your family, and for the community. It’ll be a beautiful addition. Is there anything else you want changed?”

Gabe slid his hand over toward the Reverend, keeping it on the table. He slowly extended his index finger to point at the envelope the Reverend had shoved into his left jacket pocket. He frowned and gave a slight nod toward the envelope. Without saying a word, he pulled his hand back and dug deep into the food on his plate. When he had a mouthful, he gave a wide grin to the Reverend.

Reverend Sather finished a bite and stared at Gabe. He hesitated, than spoke. “Wes told me you were acting kind of strange lately. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do to help. Are you in some kind of trouble?” He looked out at the fog again.

Gabe glanced out the window and then back. “Everything’s okay. I got some tax stuff to work out, but it’s nothing. I just got a lot on my mind lately, with the baby and all.”

Reverend Sather filled his fork. “What kind of tax problems are you having? You in danger of losing your farm? I have some contacts who can help with that sort of thing. And I’m sure our neighbors will help out.”

Gabe leaned back. “Naw. The farm’s in good shape. No problem there.” He reflected on his good fortune with the land. His financial health was second only to Wes Worthing’s. “It’s more of an aggravation than a threat. It’s just come at a bad time for me. It didn’t help that I got jumped by those Rother fellows. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll get it all cleared up in the next few days.” Gabe returned his attention to his plate of food. His next revelation was more for himself than for the Reverend. “I know I ain’t been myself lately, but it’ll all change soon enough.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Gabe and the Reverend engaged in small talk about their families and the Tri-counties as Gabe cleared his plate of any traces of Teddy’s special. The Reverend managed to down a few bites, but he mostly redistributed the piles of food on his plate.

Gabe slipped a few bills under his plate and stood to leave. He extended his huge hand to the Reverend, who returned the handshake with vigor. “Thank you for hearing me out on the ceremony. I appreciate your willingness to change it a little.” He slid his eyes down to the envelope projecting from the Reverend’s coat pocket and then smiled. “I’ll be in touch again about it to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Reverend Sather watched Gabe walk to his truck and start it up. He thought he detected an increase in the light level. As Gabe drove away, the sky cleared to a bright blue, and the Reverend had to squint to follow the pickup down the road. The fog bank moved along with the truck.

The reverend’s hand shook as he pulled the envelope from his pocket and laid it flat on the table. He turned it over. There was writing on the sealing flap, so small he had to bend his head close to read it. “Don’t open if there’s a fog around. Burn this after you read it.”

Leaning over so his forehead nearly touched the window, he looked in all directions—no fog. He sat back, slid his finger under the envelope flap, and slowly pulled out the letter. He squinted at the handwritten message.

He re-folded the letter and returned it to the envelope, bent the envelope in the middle, and pushed it into his pocket. He would burn it as soon as he got home. His thoughts turned to Gabe. Must be in some kind of trouble, he thought. But now, he had second thoughts about getting involved.

T
HE NIGHT BEFORE
the baptism, Gabe’s dream returned in its entirety. Once again, he sensed the old Gabe, the good Gabe, was being pushed further and further into insignificance by the new Gabe. His inability to change the dream, or end it, triggered a burgeoning panic and he bolted upright in his bed, his bedclothes soaked in sweat. To keep from waking Deena Lee, he deliberately swung out of bed and retired to the living room where he half-reclined on the couch, both waiting for and dreading the break of day. It was Sunday, the day of the greatest battle of his life.

Thibideaux paced in the great room of the rectory. He found the impending procurement both invigorating and stressful. This time, however, his planning extended beyond the immediate business with Deena Lee’s child. He had begun to formulate plans for the acquisition of his secondary target in Boyston, the Child of Special Circumstance—Gabe and Wanna’s baby.

This would be his seventy-ninth CSC procurement—he had seventy-seven successes with only one failure. Was that a record for the Organization? He knew he was one of the oldest Recruiters in North America. After all, he was born in 1784 and had begun serving the Organization upon completion of his training and internships in 1801. Long ago, he had lost count of his successful acquisitions of primary targets. How many of his seventy-seven CSCs ended up as Councillors, and how many made it to the Provost level?

He loved the prospect of procuring a CSC, and actually envisioned himself as a former CSC. He rationalized his low level in the Organization as due to his physical appearance, which was well outside of the normal limits of the ideal phenotype. How else could he be allowed to go into the field with such severe physical limitations unless he was a CSC? And, how could his special powers be explained? He knew, early on in his training, that his abilities were well in excess of those of his fellow trainees. On more than one occasion, he was able to shock the Councillors with his powers. He remembered, with pride, how he was allowed to give a demonstration of his abilities to a panel of Provosts on his sixteenth birthday. That led to his early graduation and his first internship. One more time he would repay the Organization with a CSC dividend, for supporting him despite his physical shortcomings.

As the sun topped the horizon to the East, the two generals independently prepared for battle. Both checked and re-checked their plans to make sure no detail was left dangling—no flank was left exposed. Time was now listed among the enemies for the two. For one, it moved way too slow. For the other, it passed much too quickly.

G
ABE FIDGETED IN
the pew. The service passed in an instant and the hymns were sung in double time. He hadn’t heard a word of Reverend Sather’s sermon—it seemed like the words were strung together in a quickened gibberish.

Before Gabe knew it, Reverend Sather announced to the congregation that the baptism of Cory Dean and Deena Lee Petersen would take place immediately following the benediction, and that all were invited to remain for the special occasion. Gabe’s mind searched for comfort.