Worship You

Chapter Twenty-three - When This Started

I served a full two and a half years out of five. Then they released me and I didn't know where to go or what to do. They set me on the street in another guy's clothes and told me to rebuild my life. I was almost twenty years old and had no clue about life, not having paid much attention so far. So I went back home to my mother. 

The old town looked worse than ever before, and smaller now too. It was April. Like all clichés, there was good reason for them and it was raining. But not showers. Not in the darkest place in America.  

It rained day after day, late rains, heavy rains and dark heavy mist that lay low on the drab bitter streets of the town. Even though it was spring, it stayed cold. 

My mother opened the door and looked at me without surprise. I had called her from jail and told her I was coming home. She was even more faded than she was when I left. She was like an old stain, a spot on the rug that was getting fainter and fainter, year after year. 

She motioned with a jerk of her head toward my room. I walked into the room that I'd grown up in like walking into an open grave.  

In three weeks, the call came. They were both on the line, the Sisters. Conference call. I guess they both wanted to listen to my responses, judge my mood. The oldest sister, Elaine, tried to make it sound friendly, casual, but I was being interrogated The other sister's voice was very soft and hoarse like static on the lines. Her voice sounded damaged as if she had laryngitis, as if she'd been screaming. Finally, Elaine told me to meet them on Route 29. I asked Elaine what her sister's name was. She said I didn't need to know that. That her sister was very private. 

I waited, parked out on Route 29 for half an hour. And then they came in an old Cadillac, deep soft suspension bouncing the car over the potholes dug by winter like a boat on the waves. They pulled up alongside and the passenger seat window came rolling down. It was the other sister. I couldn't see her face which was in darkness. I just heard her soft damaged voice say, "Follow us."  

I started the car and followed them about 2 miles when they turned off on a side road. I'd lost sight of them after the Cadillac turned off and leaned over the wheel, peering like an owl trying to see through the dark misty evening. The road was unpaved and as I rode along the trees grew more frequently and thicker, crowding up to the side of the road. I nearly hit the Cadillac parked at a fork in the road, stopped with a short skid just in time. Why they chose that spot, I couldn't say. But I suspected it was so they could disappear easily when the meeting was over. There was a highway somewhere not far to the west. They had planned it out beforehand. 

I stopped my car and got out. Elaine got out and walked back to me. 

"Is Cassie in that car?" I said. 

"It doesn't matter," she said. 

"It does to me," I said. 

"You can't see her." 

"Why not?" 

"You don't look very good," she said, ignoring my question. 

Elaine took a little tin out of her purse. She twisted it open and inside was clear sticky goo. She dipped her index finger into the goo and rubbed it on my forehead. 

"This will make you feel better. It will give you energy and courage. Better than that, it'll cheer you up." 

I sneered. "What's this, magic? The shrink in jail told me this was all a lie. He said you were psychopaths." 

"Did he really? Well, everybody has their own point of view. At any rate, this is just folk medicine. Herbs and things." 

She took my hand and drew signs on the back of it with the goo. Then she rubbed it on my wrist. The stuff felt cool as it evaporated on my hand. And then it began to burn a little, heat going deep as it penetrated my body and my arms and legs grew heavy. She took my other hand and did the same.