The Exorcist's House: Genesis by Nick Roberts & Crystal Lake Publishing

Author:Nick Roberts & Crystal Lake Publishing [Roberts, Nick & Publishing, Crystal Lake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crystal Lake Publishing
Published: 2024-09-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

April 1973, Southwestern West Virginia

NEARLY FIVE YEARS passed since Merle talked to his dead son in the graveyard atop the hill of his farmhouse, and in that time, he’d truly made it his again. He did exactly what Gertie had instructed Sam to tell him to do. Gone were the days of scouring newspapers for incidents of demonic possession or anything else related to the occult. As soon as he’d walked down from seeing his son in 1967, he’d gone about tending to the farm—the animals, the land, the fence, growing crops—and even made a real effort to get plugged back into his small community.

Mondays and Tuesdays were devoted to farm work from sunup to sundown. On Wednesdays, he’d volunteer at Riverbend Presbyterian Church, mostly doing odd jobs around the building to keep it in order and then go grab some dinner before small group at seven p.m. It took him—and some members of the congregation, he supposed—a few weeks to feel comfortable being back in a church. People knew about Gertie’s suicide. Rumors only spread once he started his own investigations; however, once he started forming connections with some of the members, his reservations abated. It was these Wednesday night groups that really helped lift his spirits.

On Thursday and Friday, he’d work with his old friend, Robert, at Hansen’s Body Shop. He wasn’t the greatest mechanic, but he knew enough to earn his keep. Plus, he seemed to be the only other man in the garage who was immune to Robert’s diatribes about the entire world going to shit. Robert would finish a rant about how Nixon was just trying to clean up Kennedy and Johnson’s mess, shoot Merle a look, and say, “Ain’t that right, Merle?”

Merle would nod and say, “M’hmm,” and just keep tinkering away at whatever needed tinkering. He didn’t need the job. He made decent income from his crops and livestock, and he still had the majority of Gertie’s life insurance money in a savings account. His existence was about as low maintenance as one could get. But he wasn’t doing it for the money. Like Sam had told him years ago, he was finding his own happiness. Happiness for Merle came in the form of service work.

Saturdays were for him, though. This was the only day he’d allow himself an extra couple of hours to sleep in. During the warmer seasons, he’d either go down to the river and fish for bass or drive down to the creek for trout. Sometimes he’d run into town and catch a movie or go grocery or tool shopping if he needed anything.

When autumn hit and the leaves turned and dropped with the temperature, he’d hunt deer on his land. The first time he went out, he had a reservation about running into another rogue mountain lion, but he didn’t let the fear stop him. He chopped wood and built a nice firepit up on the hill. Even in the cold, he enjoyed bundling up and indulging in his new habit of pipe tobacco, having given up cigarettes a year prior.

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