Sweet Jesus (34 page)

Really?

He looked like he was on some kind of mission.

So let’s go get the truck, Connie said. We can drive over there and wait for him.

There was something about the way he was heading in there, Hannah said. Looked like he was about to break something.

What, like a window? Connie said lightly and recalled how Harlan had thrown that garbage can through the store window not so long ago. She told Hannah about it now, and it
shocked her. At the time, Connie said, it had shocked me too. It was a side to him I’d never seen before.

They had arrived at the truck and Connie was waiting for Hannah to get in and unlock her door. They got inside and Hannah said, So what did Harlan’s letter say? Is everything all right?

He wants us to go back to the way we were, Connie said and gave her sister a helpless shrug.

Hannah started the truck. Remember that time at camp, she said, when we were kids and you broke that window? They’d been in a cabin after dark. It was at a family camp, and their parents were in the dining hall with all the other parents, having an evening worship service. There was only one babysitter, walking between the cabins, checking up on all the kids. Dad overstuffed the woodstove, Hannah said. The lid blew off and flames shot out, remember?

That’s right, Connie said. I forgot about that.

How old were we? Hannah said.

Five or six?

Remember how terrified we were?

Well,
I
was terrified. I thought we were going to die. It seemed like the whole cabin was on fire. I couldn’t get the door open, Connie said, so I ran straight to the window.

And put your fist through it, Hannah said. Somehow you managed not to cut yourself, but you shattered the whole pane of glass.

And
you
just walked calmly to the door and opened it, Connie said.

Well, it was a tricky knob and I had a knack for it.

I was your big sister, Connie said. I felt so responsible.

You’ve always felt responsible for me, Hannah said.

Yeah, and a whole lot of good that’s ever done.

Well, you’re brave. And you have the courage of your convictions, Hannah said, parking the truck in front of the church. Remember how convinced we were that God was watching over us? Because we ran all the way to the dining hall in our bare feet, without even getting a single scratch. We didn’t trip or fall, and there were lots of tree roots across that path.

Running through the woods in our little homemade nighties, Connie said.

Sometimes I feel like we’re still running through the woods, Hannah said, in our little homemade nighties.

You know, Connie said, all this time I’ve felt so vulnerable to danger. And yet, imagine how many disasters we’ve actually averted? She nodded towards the big hall across the street. Am I like that, do you think? I mean, am I like these people? Connie looked genuinely concerned.

You’re not like that, Hannah said. You’re something else.
I’m
something else.

Zeus stood to one side of a small room at the back of the church, next to an old-fashioned, elegant wooden coat stand that seemed out of place in its surroundings. He watched as a group of about thirty people, men and women with kids, mothers with their babies, pressed in around Enoch. They had begun to pray, calling out shouts of praise and exultation. The room was painted an ugly shade of green and felt claustrophobic. He felt sick about the kiss. Had he given Enoch a burden? Would it make him suffer?

A tall, blond woman he heard referred to as Delilah seemed to be leading the ceremony. The congregation was closing in on her, and he couldn’t see Enoch anymore. The woman raised
her Bible in the air and leaned forward and started shouting at the floor. What is your name! What’s your name!

Zeus hated the tone of her voice, how angry it was. He moved closer to the edge of the group and saw that Enoch was now face down on the floor and being pinned there by two big men. One was pressing down on his shoulders while the other one knelt on the back of his legs. Beneath them, Enoch was twisting and writhing.

Zeus started sweating. They’re going to hurt him! he thought. He despised what was happening. He crouched to look through the legs of the people and tried to get Enoch’s attention. For a moment, Zeus bowed his head and covered his eyes, then Delilah shouted, Clear the space! Nobody talk!

The room fell silent and Zeus stood up again. Delilah’s arms were thrown wide open and all Zeus could hear was Enoch’s exhausted panting and thumping under the weight of those two big men. Delilah leaned forward again and demanded, Who are you? What is your name, evil spirit?

Zeus winced. There was no healing going on here, only a battle of wills that would require so much defiance, it would take Enoch years to soften his heart again. And where were his parents in all of this? He suddenly forced his way through the crowd, to where Delilah stood with her Bible, and shouted,
Stop!

Everyone froze. The men leaned back and lightened their grip. Enoch glared up at Delilah from the floor. There was the watery sound of many people catching their breath. Zeus didn’t know what to do next. You should be doing this to
me
, he said.
I’ve
committed graver acts than this boy.

The congregation was murmuring now. Delilah turned to Zeus and said, What do you want here? This is not your business.

I’m a repentant sinner, Zeus said.

One of the men who was holding Enoch stood up and straightened his shirt, and Enoch bolted to his feet. His face was red and wet with tears and snot, his eyes were puffy. He looked proud and hateful and victorious.

I’m
the one who needs purification here, Zeus insisted. You can’t refuse me, can you?

Folks, Delilah announced, this man here is requesting deliverance.

Hallelujah! someone called out halfheartedly.

By what name, she asked, does the demon that torments you go by, brother?

Delilah spoke with such composure, it was almost as if she’d been expecting him all along.

You can speak openly here, Delilah said, brushing her hair back with her fingers.

I will, Zeus said, but first I’d like to take off my coat. He pointed to the wooden coat stand and the congregation parted. Zeus walked towards it slowly, unbuttoning his beige trench coat. A single hanger dangled from one of its curled stems. It reminded him of something. It was the beginning of a mime Fenton had mastered and performed many times. He’d never attempted to perform it himself, and wondered now if he could do it unrehearsed.

Connie left Hannah waiting in the truck and walked into the church. She looked around the worship area but couldn’t find Zeus, so she headed past the reception desk. She came to a corner where another hallway started, heard a voice shout,
Stop!
and got a jolt of fear. It sounded like Zeus’s voice. She hurried down the hall and opened a door to a room that was
empty. She opened another one. Two people sat in an office, working at their computers. They turned to Connie and she apologized. At the end of the hall was another door, and when she opened this one, Connie saw a crowd of people, standing motionless, watching rapt as Zeus arranged his coat neatly on a hanger. She stood there perplexed.

He brushed the coat off with the back of his hand and a man went towards him, but Zeus held him off with a gesture. Wait, his hand said, and the man waited. Zeus tugged at the shoulders of his coat and straightened it up. He tilted his head as if inspecting the results, taking stock of the coat. It was a good coat. A decent coat.

Behind him, the audience was being patient and watchful. Even from the back, you could tell a transformation was taking place. Zeus seemed no longer himself but a charmed, enchanted being, transformed as if by magic into a character capable of funnelling down and distilling into a kind of concentrated moonshine all the pathos of the world. And he was pouring it into a cup and asking you to drink it. He untied his red scarf and wound it twice around the neck of the hanger. There was a good suggestion of a person in just the coat and scarf. Zeus dusted it off some more, then thrust his arm into the coat’s sleeve and pivoted to face the room, his back pressed up against the coat.

Okay, this is ridiculous, a tall, blond woman said.

A teenaged boy shouted, Leave him alone! and people turned to look at him.

A few young kids had come out of the crowd as if they knew something was about to happen. Of course they did, Connie thought. Suffer the children.

Zeus held up his arm for more meticulous dusting when suddenly it froze. It had come to life! The arm belonged to the
coat, and Zeus was leaning away from it suspiciously. He didn’t dare move. He looked up over his shoulder at the coat stand, then back at the arm of the coat, its hand open and hovering in the air. The hand made a move towards him, and Zeus recoiled. It inched forward, and Zeus shrunk back an inch.

The room had grown quieter. Everyone was watching him now. What would he do next?

Zeus’s expression was one of alarm, eyebrows arched. His eyes darted one way, then the other, as the hand moved closer. It touched the front of his t-shirt, felt the fabric, tidied it up, then swiftly, with one stiff finger pressed to his jaw line, swung Zeus’s face towards its own. Zeus gave the coat a nervous, obsequious smile. The audience laughed. Then the coat began to brush him off, reciprocating with the same fussy care and attention Zeus had shown it earlier. The coat dusted off his arms, his shoulders and chest, and then, with a sudden flicked upswing, it had Zeus by the throat.

Connie was amazed and found herself smiling.

He hung suspended in terror, chin in the air, until the coat released him, and stroked him in one tender, sensual caress, from his neck all the way down to his belly. Zeus grovelled and swooned, in an agony of submissive pleasure, his face drawn into a grimace of longing. He looked slavishly, irrevocably in love.

How does he
do
that? a child’s voice asked.

And then, abruptly, Zeus pulled out his arm, extracting himself from the coat and shuffling off to pick up an invisible suitcase. He hesitated. This was going to be a classic, heartbreaking farewell. He turned, rushed back to the coat, shoved his arm in, and they embraced again, facing the audience, cheek to cheek, with all the tenderness in the world. I will never let you go. The coat reached up and lovingly traced a lazy circle
on the tip of Zeus’s nose, making his whole head follow fawningly. Zeus closed his eyes and his eyebrows peaked in the centre. His mouth, hanging open slightly, started to blubber. He turned to bury his face in the coat’s chest and his hand flew up to the coat’s shoulder, floating up through the final distance very slowly, leading with the wrist like a piano player lifting his hands off the keys. His hand, having finally settled on the coat’s shoulder, gathered up a fistful of material and clung to it.

Together they rocked one way, then the other. In unison, they rose and sank on the wave of a powerful sigh. Stillness again. Then they jumped apart. Zeus grabbed his head. He was late! It was time to go! He shuffled away from the coat, bent to pick up his suitcase, straightened up, then stopped. He looked back and waved. There was applause.

So
this
is what he did, Connie thought. He didn’t even need a costume, he was so thoroughly a clown. What a lovely, remarkable thing to do. If anything, she had underestimated him. They all had. It wasn’t Zeus who had needed their pity, it was Zeus who could have rescued
them
, if only they’d been open to the possibility.

A
t dinner that evening, they were subdued, drained by the excesses of the day. They’d found a tavern near the Comfort Inn and were sharing a large plate of nachos.

You should have seen him, Connie told Rose and Hannah. Had the whole room eating out of the palm of his hand. I couldn’t believe how good you are, she said, turning to Zeus. You could have your own show.

Zeus was picking the black olives out of his nachos and putting them on the edge of his plate. I still can’t imagine clowning without Fenton, he said.