“Ellis introduced me to Dr. Carroll, said he could help me. Doc wanted to give me a whole cocktail of meds, things to take the edge off and such. I told him I didn’t want to become some vegetable. I needed to stay strong and focused to do God’s will.
“He convinced me that without a little something I would end up being no help at all. He was afraid I was going to slip into depression and so, I agreed to take these little, yellow pills. It’s funny to think how obstinate I was about taking those things because once I started I felt so much better. Things became clearer. My pain about my son faded. That pain can never completely vanish, of course, but the pills did wonders.
“Dr. Carroll is—was—a believer. He and Ellis had met up a long time ago at one of Ellis’s old churches and together they spearheaded a new approach to Christianity, a whole new mentality to summon people into His flock.
“They turned, as Jesus did, to those who needed the most help. Dr. Carroll had been running a very successful practice for years and when he dedicated his life to carrying out God’s will, his practice grew exponentially. People suffering all forms of emotional trauma sought him out and he helped them first with the magic pills he carries and second by opening wide the gates to His Holy Empire. Dr. Carroll found the people and Ellis helped them find God.
“The two of them are responsible for saving hundreds of souls. They helped empower people who were on the cusp of complete despair. And in return, those people gave back to the church and that is why it is so strong today. We have over three hundred parishioners who are, as we speak, carrying out His will.
“Dr. Carroll led us to you. We have many young worshippers, but the doc convinced us that you were something special. Instead of intervening, however, Ellis believed we should wait for God’s intervention. The doc kept tabs on you and we went about our business of saving souls.”
Brendan thought of the myth book—had it been some sort of test? Why not give him the Bible?
“After your infant brother died, we knew your time would be soon. We came here last week because we knew your mother was getting worse, more and more dependent on drugs. She needed to be saved. To do that, however, we needed to first save your father.
“He didn’t want to hear anything from us. At first, almost everyone is resistant. Ellis told your father he would need our help and, as it has turned out, Ellis was right. He told me that God had only started working through your family, that the real miracles were yet to happen.
“Dr. Carroll spoke of your wondrous potential. He said you were going to be something remarkable—all you needed was a little guidance. As with most children who are not reared correctly, you were confused, trying to find meaning but lost in a tangle of barbaric ideas.
“You only wanted to protect your family, I know. God has worked through you, made you suffer like Job, because He has great things in mind for you. You see, we thought the death of your infant brother was the sign from God, but that was only the beginning. It was your sister’s death that has led us to this moment.
“You confessed your part in her death and for that we are forever grateful. You will carry that pain in your heart always, but we will help you manage it, funnel it, and direct it into the positive works He demands from us.”
Dwayne cracked his knuckles, one by one, as he spoke.
“Jacob Karras came to Dr. Carroll concerned about his wife. She was always weird, he said, but she was getting worse. She had an unnatural interest in the black arts—witchcraft. Dr. Carroll tried to help but she wouldn’t budge.
“Sometimes drastic measures need to be taken. The doc gave Jacob what he needed to help his wife. There are unfortunate turns of events, things that cannot be explained logically or sanely because we are not privy to God’s reasons.
“The drugs Jacob slipped his wife nearly killed her. She suffered a mild stroke, fell into a coma. Ellis and I assumed this was our moment to act, to help save the Karras family. We couldn’t have been more wrong.”
16
The moment Sasha said “Jesus Men,” Tyler felt the invisible weight of something still concealed begin to crush him.
“They wore suits and spoke about Jesus empowering you or some stupid shit. Whatever. I was going to tell them to try some other house, we weren’t the religious type, but my father came storming out of the house, started screaming at them.
“He told them to go away and stay the hell away for good if they were smart. My father wasn’t the type to get so pissed so easily, but there were other things …”
“What?” Tyler asked.
“I told you my mom went nuts after my father died, but that’s not all of it. She was a little nuts to begin with. She almost died.”
Sasha’s mother had had a stroke, fallen to a coma, and almost passed away. This psychiatrist her father knew tried to help but her father kicked him off the front steps, too.
“What was his name, the doctor?”
“Carroll something.”
“No.” That invisible weight grew heavier. “Dr. Carroll?”
She blinked. “Maybe, I don’t know.”
“What’d he look like?”
“I never met him,” she said. “Why?”
Tyler almost confessed to everything but stopped himself. There was a coincidence here too large to ignore, but it had no effect on the current problem. He still had to stick to the plan and he could sort out the oddities later. “Just asking,” he said. “So, your father?”
“The night after the Jesus Men left, they called the house. My father screamed at them again, and threatened to expose who they were. Said he would go to the papers, the TV, anyone who would listen. He told them the police would be coming their way soon.
“He slammed the phone so hard it fell off the wall. We still haven’t put it back up.” She wiped her face with one sleeve. It was a preemptive swipe at any tears preparing to fall. “The next morning he was dead.”
“Wait—how?”
Her voice choked with pain. “I found him at the bottom of the driveway. He had been shot twice, once in the chest, once in the head. I remember falling to the ground and screaming, screaming for hours until the neighbor came over. I’m sure it wasn’t hours, but it felt like it, you know?”
“When did all this happen?”
“I was twelve.”
“Jesus. I’m really sorry, Sasha, I didn’t know.”
“I told you it wasn’t important. My mother survived her stroke but she just came unhinged after that.”
That word again: unhinged.
“She started with all the witch crap and I went along with it. I tried to keep it from the kids at school, but you can never keep everything quiet. No one knows my dad was shot in my driveway. Even the guidance counselors think it was a heart attack. I was never asked to talk about it, so I never corrected them. They seemed pretty sure of their information.
“My mom’s not a bad person. She’s been through a lot, so I can’t be too critical, you know?”
“She needs help,” Tyler said. He was amazed he could move forward with his plan after her soul-purging. This last week had been one self-discovery after another.
“I’m not forcing her to take drugs.”
Tyler took a long, slow breath. He really had to sell this line. “I care about you, Sasha, I do. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I … want you to be safe.”
“You mean that?” She lifted her head like a deer checking to see if the path was clear.
“Of course. I know things have been fucked up lately, but I want to make everything better.”