“He promised me that I would be his deacon. I’ve always wanted that and now I’ll have it, and I’ll be able to breathe free and easy for the rest of my life.”
Katie had dealt with teenage gang members, drug dealers, homicides, and rapes in Knoxville, but never had she heard thinking as bizarre as this.
She drew in a deep breath, and held out her hand to Mr. Boone. “Did you think even once about your mother and your grandmother, what this would do to them? Listen to me. This man isn’t holy, he’s insane. Do you have any idea what deep trouble you’re in? Now, put down that damned rifle.”
But Mr. Boone held on to the rifle like it was his lifeline, and perhaps, in his mind, it was. He kept it steady on her chest.
Katie said to Reverend McCamy, “I believe that in Hollywood they would say the jig’s up, sir. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me before I take you to my cozy jail?”
“Damn you, Sheriff, why don’t you believe me?”
“Of course I don’t believe you,” she said, warning signs going off in her head because he was losing it fast. “I’m not mad.”
“You stupid woman!” He lurched away and ran to the bookshelf behind his desk. He jerked books off the shelf, hurling them to the floor, reached in and pulled out what appeared to be a videotape.
“I’ll prove it to you! Look at this tape! This proves what I’m saying! I’m not insane-it’s on this tape!”
“What’s on the tape, Reverend?” Katie asked.
“You’ll see,” Reverend McCamy said, tears still running down his face, his voice feverish, trembling, quite mad. “You’ll see. God, through His infinite grace, through His desire to use me to teach others, has brought me this miracle. I saw the miracle and I clasped it to my soul and swore to God that I would bring Samuel to understand and accept God’s mission for him in this life.”
He shoved the video into the machine slot, turned on the TV and there it was, without his doing anything else. He obviously kept the TV set to video, ready for this tape.
There was a hissing sound from the tape, and then the grainy sound and squiggly lines faded away. The focus wasn’t very good, and there was motion because the camera wasn’t being held steady. Miles realized that it was a home movie, of sorts. Of what? The camera came to a stop on Sam, a younger Sam, maybe three years old, lying on his old bed in his child’s bedroom in their first house in Alexandria, wearing only his pajama bottoms. He was thrashing around, moaning, or delirious. He was heaving, arching his back, his arms and legs flailing. The jerking camera moved in closer. Miles thought he heard a person crying, probably the person videotaping his son. Was it Alicia?
Miles knew nothing of this, nothing. He watched Sam’s arms fly over his head, watched the camera zoom in on his fisted hands. Then his small hands opened, slowly.
There was blood on Sam’s palms. And it was running down his wrists.
Miles stopped breathing. Blood? Sam had been bleeding? When? Why hadn’t Alicia told him?
The woman was crying loudly now, and the camera was shaking so badly everything went blurry, then suddenly, it went to black.
Reverend McCamy hit the stop button, but he didn’t look away from the blank TV screen. His breath was coming fast and hard, and his dark eyes were glazed. It was almost as if he was in some sort of ecstasy. Miles watched as his hands slowly unfurled, the palms open, just like Sam’s had, and now he was panting, shivering, as if he were in that film with Sam, as if his body wanted desperately to simulate what had happened to Sam.
Reverend McCamy whispered as he continued to stare at the blank TV screen, “Did you see? The child, like Christ, is God’s victim and God’s sacrifice, here to make the world know His power, and through Samuel’s ecstasy, understand God’s love and His limitless compassion.
“Samuel, in those moments, those precious moments, was as close to God as any of us will ever be in this life.”
33
R everend McCamy stared at the screen, his wild eyes seeing what was no longer there, but was only there in his mind, so deep that he’d made himself mad with it. Or maybe the madness had come first.
There was a moment of stark silence.
Miles didn’t move, just said to Reverend McCamy, his voice calm and steady, “You’re telling me that you had Sam kidnapped because you saw a video of an obviously sick, delirious little boy, who, for whatever reason, had blood on his hands?”
Katie felt as if someone had smacked her upside the head and she’d never seen it coming. When Reverend McCamy had spoken of the stigmata, she’d thought of it as another of the ravings of a fanatic, certainly nothing to do with Sam.
What was all this about stigmata? From what she’d read, which wasn’t much at all, the people who’d supposedly displayed the marks of the Cross seemed very ill, both physically and mentally. But why was there blood on Sam’s hands in the video? Was that his mother taping this? It was obvious Miles didn’t know a thing about it. Why in heaven’s name hadn’t Miles’s wife told him about this?
“This must have happened about three years ago, Reverend McCamy,” Miles said. “Why did you wait three years to take Sam?”
Reverend McCamy looked suddenly at his wife, and his eyes went even wilder. “Elsbeth, stay back! Close your robe, woman, you’re showing your body to these people, to this man!”
“I’m looking at you, Reverend, not your damned wife.”
“I’m sorry, Reverend McCamy, I’m so sorry.” Elsbeth turned away, frantically tying the sash on her silk robe again.
Reverend McCamy looked back at Miles. “Taking the boy, it should have been so simple, but I hadn’t yet seen the boy, and so how could he understand? He managed to escape. Don’t you see? God wants the boy to be with me.”
Miles said slowly, “I have never seen that tape. I never even knew about it, don’t even know who shot it. I don’t remember Sam ever being that ill. He was obviously delirious, very sick. Where did you get that tape, Reverend?”
“I won’t tell you. You’ll hurt the people who gave me the tape, and they were only doing God’s work.”
Miles rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous-”
“Very well, at least tell us what you were going to do with Sam?” Katie said. “He’s six years old, not a toddler.”
“I was willing to leave my ministry here, to take Samuel to Phoenix with us. I’ve already bought property there. It wouldn’t take me long to teach Samuel what he is and what he must do with his life.”
“Sam is to be your successor,” Katie said.
“Of course, I must go see Samuel. Now.” He was suddenly the leader of his flock, decisive, full of resolve. He stepped back from Miles and shook himself. “I am going to see Samuel. I will pray for him. I will intercede with God to save him. I will lay my hands upon him.”
And he turned to walk out of the room.
“Reverend McCamy,” Katie said quite pleasantly. “You, sir, aren’t going anywhere.”
In spite of Mr. Boone with his rifle pointed at her, Katie pulled her SIG out of her waistband. He said, “Please, Sheriff Benedict, put that gun down.”
Katie turned as she slowly lowered her SIG to her side. “Surely, Mr. Boone, you can’t think God is ordering you now to kill both me and Mr. Kettering, to go with Reverend McCamy to the hospital and try to steal Sam away again? Don’t you realize that you would be sending that innocent little boy into a life of slavery and madness? Listen, Mr. Boone, I can still help you if you don’t hurt anyone.”
“No! That’s not what the Reverend said!”
Reverend McCamy said, “Thomas, they said the boy was injured. How did that happen?”
“I was going to throw the bombs in the kitchen to get them out of the house. It’s just that the sheriff was there, and I really didn’t want to kill her like that. And then Mr. Kettering came into the kitchen and I believed they were going to fornicate right there, on the kitchen table! I watched them, but you know what? Before anything happened, she sensed something, I swear it, she knew something was wrong. Maybe she saw me, but I don’t think so. I was real careful. She yelled at Mr. Kettering to get the kids, that they were getting out of there. They got to the truck before I could grab Samuel. He drove off with Mr. Kettering, and he was fine.”