Blight by Tom Carlisle

Author:Tom Carlisle
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan Books

12

THERE WAS no wall around the church or its graveyard. A few headstones sticking up like lone teeth from diseased gums, half-swallowed by long grass. It was a strange place, the church, an obscure monument on the edge of the village. James shivered, aware of the low and looming clouds overhead and the afternoon’s unexpected cool, and headed for the door.

It was weather-beaten and beginning to moulder, the whitewash flaking away to reveal the wood underneath. When he knocked there was no answer, but the latch turned easily when he tried it. Inside was only darkness. He didn’t allow himself to linger on the threshold. To do so invited a question he preferred not to think about for too long.

What are you afraid of?

His eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. The high windows let in shafts of light, accompanied by smaller beams from scattered holes in the roof and walls. There was the sound of water, dripping occasionally as though from a great height, echoing in the quiet of the sanctuary. Two rows of heavy wooden pews stretched back from a lectern at the front of the church, behind which squatted a low altar.

The lectern was vast and shabby, carved from dark wood. It was in the shape of an eagle, wings outstretched and head bowed, although the years had not been kind to it: there were great chunks missing from the beak, and chips flaking from the wings, giving it a ragged, scabrous appearance. Atop it sat a huge Bible, its pages open for the congregation. James approached cautiously, the tap of his cane louder than he’d like on the flagstones. He was fearful of disturbing the silence: this was a holy place, no doubt of that, a place set apart.

But then came the sound of a door thrown open, deafeningly loud in a space like this, and from the vestry emerged a tall, bald man in a black robe; his cheeks were gaunt, the hollows of his eyes grimed with dirt, his expression furious. ‘What do you want with me?’ he bellowed. ‘I’ve done nothing to harm you.’

He made his way across to James, every step accompanied by a grimace, and as he drew closer James saw the skin of the man’s forehead was covered in overlapping blotches of yellow, maroon, crimson. He looked like a walking bruise.

‘Answer me,’ the man said. ‘Tell me why you’re here, or get out. This is a sanctuary, man, and God won’t be mocked.’ His voice caught on the word sanctuary, the faintest hiss that he couldn’t hide, and then James saw him clearly.

‘It’s you,’ he said. ‘Don’t you remember me?’

The priest squinted up at James, his eyes painful and encrusted, and then realisation passed across his face. ‘You’re the Harringley boy,’ he said in a tone of wonder, reaching up towards James’s face but restraining himself before he touched skin. ‘They said you were – gone – I assumed…’ He put a hand to his forehead, and James saw it was quavering.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.