A few hours later Abby’s deep sleep was interrupted by the church bells. Her first impulse was to jump up, dress, and hurry across the churchyard to the morning service.
The bishop will be speaking! He said he’d support me, now let’s see what he does.
She looked out the small window at Bridge Avenue. Once again the sidewalk was crowded, and a news team was trying to interview and video the new arrivals.
Hmmm… The bishop said he’d take the attention, get some of this scrutiny off my back. Why not just stay away and let him do it? I don’t feel like getting involved in all that again. I have no energy for it. I think I’ll just go back to sleep.
Her mind flashed briefly on the incredible events of the night before, but it was too overwhelming to think about. In a few minutes she was sound asleep.
Abby awoke in the fading light of the setting sun. She was starving, and longed to walk down to Sammy’s Coffee shop and order a sandwich and fried potatoes. But her mind was still overwhelmed. She felt like a new person, beginning a new phase of life, and wasn’t sure how to act, how to talk to her friends. What if Phoebe and Stephanie and Nico and Sulay want to talk. What can I say about myself? How can I describe the last two days? I’m not ready, and don’t know how to get ready.
She made a cheese omelet with fried finger beans, sliced two apples, and covered a thick slice of bread with apple butter. I’ve never loved eating so much! She followed it up with a cup of Breakfast Mixture tea, extra strong on the cocoa, and felt ready to face the day.
I’m free! But free to do what? It’s almost night, and I don’t know what to say to anyone.
She looked around her room. Alex’s blood-red print of the Human One embracing a crowd of lost souls held her gaze. This really happened!! Somewhere, somehow. It’s not just me. Alex saw it in a dream. And the muttering voices are gone. I’m free and it feels wonderful. But free to do what?
Her eyes roamed around the room again, as if she might see a clue, a sign to answer her question. But nothing appeared to help her. Finally, she decided to take a walk around the churchyard, look at her gardens and the wild area. I wonder if the stalkers are still around. I wonder if the Morphy organization will kill our whole effort. What’s happened with the trustees, and the fate of Tuck and myself and the Youth Council? We’re really trying to make something good! Please God, save our project, however small and futile we may be. We’re trying!
Bridge Avenue was deserted. No stalkers leaned against the front gate. The benches in front of the Middletown Standard were empty. Abby walked right up to the wrought iron fence, but did not see a soul. But the flowers were thriving. Marigolds, Cosmos, Snapdragons, and a few tall sunflowers with their heads heavy with seeds… They were gorgeous, very much alive.
Turning around, Abby walked back to the privet fort and down the narrow path through the wild area to the Secret Place and the wrought iron door. She looked out on the dirt path and Fred Peterson’s cornfield. All was still. The crickets played their song, coming in waves.
In the light of the rising moon Abby stared through the brambles, looking for the hidden door to the underground, the domain of the mapstick. Was that secret entrance safe? So much – more than she could imagine – depended on its safety. The Great Gray Owl hooted, and hooted again. Abby seemed to hear the owl say, “Welcome back! Glad to see you! I’m in charge here, and all is as it should be. Nothing to worry about.” Abby pictured the great gray owl as the guardian of the entrance to the underworld.
With that reassurance she headed back up the path. As she emerged on the open lawn she heard a faint knocking, and saw the dark form of Reverend Tuck at her door.
She called to him softly: “I’m here.”
“Ah! I saw your light on, and wondered if you were back from your trip. Perhaps you haven’t heard the news.”
“What news? I’ve heard nothing.”
“Please, come and drink a glass of cider with me. Janet has made the most delicious apple pie.”
“Yes! Can’t wait.”
They walked to the side door leading to Tuck’s small dining area and kitchen on the side. He served the promised desert and sat down, giving her a close look. “You look… a little different. I mean it in a good way. A bit more… happy…”
She smiled. “About this news… I was just hoping to hear something good.”
“Well, brace yourself, there’s a lot of good news. It will take a while to describe.”
“Come on, Reverend Tuck! I’m burning with curiosity!”
“I’ll summarize as best I can, and we’ll go into detail another time. I’ve had a long day. But I’m very glad to see you back, and be able to describe this new landscape. Okay, first of all, Bishop Beckett stunned the congregation and visitors with two things: he fully supported your interview with Sara Williams. Your attack on the idea that Christianity presents the trinity as an all-male divinity residing in heaven, and the earth as all female and a source of evil… well, the bishop called this a heresy, and backed it up with readings and interpretations of scripture. He actually said – or at least hinted – that the divine is more like a family unity, male and female mother and father, son and daughter. And he agreed that the battle against climate change, the mission to save life on earth, must be fought in religion and spirituality as well as in science and politics. He said, “mother earth is holy, sacred, and the destruction of creation is evil. There must be a religious taboo on actions and practices that are destroying the future lives of our children.”
Abby stared. “Oh my God. He did! He really did come through! But won’t this ruin his career? A lot of powerful people aren’t going to like this. You should have heard the trustees of Evansville College. They’re a hopeless case. They can’t understand this at all.”
“We shall see. Bishop Beckett is a very subtle man, hard to predict. But he thinks things through. I’m sure he knows the powers he’s offending. He must have a plan of some kind, though he has not revealed it to me.”
Abby shook her head and whistled. “Wow… it’s hard to believe. Good news indeed!”
“And that’s not all. As the congregation buzzed with noise, conversation of all sorts, even angry shouts, the bishop suddenly announced that he had finished his investigation of the disputed election. You could have heard a pin drop. The silence was total. Then he said: “Our church hierarchy, the national and global leadership of our denomination, has seen the evidence we have gathered, including an analysis of all votes and follow up interviews with hundreds of voters. They have decided to disqualify most of the votes for one candidate, and declare the other candidate the winner. Therefore, our new trustee will be… Ellen Hall. She has graciously decided to accept this honor, despite the harassment that she and her family have endured. And I want to make it very clear that we are providing her with police protection, and will prosecute any such harassment in the future.”
Tuck presented this quote from the bishop with drama and emotion. He even had tears in his eyes. Abby stood up, clapped her hands, and walked around the room. “I can’t believe it!” she cried. “It’s too good to be true!”
“Now, brace yourself,” Tuck went on. “There’s still more, and here we have your amazing mother to thank. Let me warn you that this last piece of news is not public. So far, it’s a deep secret, still being investigated. But one conclusion is clear: Two of our trustees, including the treasurer, have for years concealed most of the church endowment, and as a result the interest and dividends from those investments has not been available for church maintenance. Please! Not a word about this. A criminal investigation of possible fraud and embezzlement is now under way. There’s no telling how long that will take. But one thing we do know: Ellen Hall is our new trustee, and joins Fred Peterson, Tom Winkle, and Geraldine Bear as the majority deciding any issues that may arise. Thus…” Tuck pumped his hands in the air, “You and I will not be fired! Our plans can proceed. We will have funds to renovate the school building!”
Abby was in tears. She wanted to give Reverend Tuck a hug, but knew he would refuse any such demonstration of affection and mutual joy. They both began making extravagant plans, interrupting each other, hardly able to contain themselves.
Finally Tuck said, “This is too much happiness for both of us, and it’s getting late. You’ll be back at work early tomorrow. Oh, there’s one more very strange piece of news that may affect your problems living here in the churchyard, and perhaps my problems too. Yesterday evening, Milton Morphy’s new office tower in River City burned. Not just a little fire, a major disaster. They hadn’t finished it yet, and it appears that no one was on the upper floors, no workman were there, and those few on the ground floor escaped with no injury." Abby was stunned, could hardly believe it. "But how..oh my God..."
Tuck had the answer ready."This insulation of the whole building, what they call cladding, caught fire and spread rapidly. It was all on TV, and may be a total loss. I’m no expert on these things, but I imagine that Milton Morphy and his organization may not be bothering with Middletown for quite a while. You’ll probably find that the surveillance of both of us has vanished. Actually, the people you called ‘the stalkers’ were already gone. Chief Santiago has been trying to identify these strange men staking out the churchyard. Your friends have published many photos, and our local police have discovered that no one knows who these people are. So anyway, Morphy has many reasons to leave us alone.”
“Oh stop!” Abby moaned. “I can bear it I’m so happy.”
“So, feel free to see your friends, walk about with no fear. But remember, be very careful with this information. The less said the better.”
She blew him a kiss. “My lips are sealed.”
