2

September 1865

         Just a little further, no more than a quarter mile. Micah thought as he stopped running. Just for a second he told himself. Go a little further, just a little, and the Padre will save me. Micah softly said, as a shiver went through him.

         He was wet, and cold, so cold it didn’t seem real anymore. None of this seemed real. Get to the Padre; Micah pushed himself to go further, he didn’t look back. No don’t look back, almost there. He could see the lights of the small church, they looked so warm.

         A little more, almost there, Micah’s breath roared in his ears. It hurt deep in his lungs.

         Don’t look back he thought yet again. Almost there, he could taste bile, it burnt his throat. He couldn’t let himself think about what he’d seen. Father Shamus would protect him. Save his mortal soul, if only he could get to him.

         Father Gregory had just finished his evening prayers. He was getting a little old, a little heavy. And it was getting harder to get off his sore ageing knees. But getting up, he gave thanks, and headed for his cubicle.

        He made it a few steps when Micah ran into the parish vestibule. The large oak doors slamming against the walls, then slamming shut again from the force. He ran back to lock them only to find there was no lock, or a beam to cross over them either. Funny, in all the time he’d gone to the church, he never noticed. But then again, this wasn’t a town that normally needed locks.

         “We have to bar the door.” Micah yelled “Please help me.”

         The Father placed his hands on the trembling man’s shoulders. He was surprised with the sudden chill that went through him.

         “We have no locks,” He began. “This is the house of the Lord. Even so, it is a cold night. And our Father would not mind, if we made certain the doors are shut, I believe.” He then cracked the door open, and peered into the distance. He saw nothing unusual. But still he felt the hairs stand up on his neck. He closed the door, and quickly said a prayer, then made the sign of the cross over the pair.

         “Where is Father Shamus?” He pleaded. I’ve heard he was trained as an exorcist. “Only he can save me now.”

         Father Gregory settled the frightened man as best he could. Seating him in the front pew, the Father then went, to summon the Priest. He found him as expected, in prayer, in his chamber.

      Seeing Father Gregory he quickly finished, blessing himself as he stood up. Gregory briefly told of how distressed Micah was, as they headed back to the chapel.

         Sitting next to Micah, the Padre placed a hand on the still shivering man’s shoulder. “Father,” he began looking up at Gregory. “Please get a blanket for our friend.”

         An hour later Micah fell into a fitful sleep. Without telling what had scared him so. Father Shamus told him they could talk in the morning, or any time he wished. The two Priests then talked briefly, about how Micah helped anyone in need. But he had always been so quiet and shy ever since childhood. He always sat in the back row, with his wife, and family. And then they always left as soon as services were over. Gregory was also shy, and always seemed to slip away when spoken to. Except for his wedding to Elizabeth, Father Gregory swallowed his fears and performed a beautiful ceremony. Now he wished he had tried harder, to know the young man.

         After a short prayer of protection, the two headed for their own beds. Something made Father Gregory turn from his door, and head back to the front. He found Father Shamus looking out a slightly open door.

         “They say there is nothing in the dark that is not there in the light.”

    “Tonight I am not so sure.” Shamus answered as he turned to Father Gregory.

         These were not words normally expected from the priest. But then again, this was not a normal night.

         “Do you see anyone out there”.

         “No, but maybe something is out there.”

         Father Gregory liked hearing these words even less.

         “I am sorry; it has been a long day. We are on consecrated ground, we are safe here.”

        Shamus said as an apology sounding weary. “Old friend I believe it is time for sleep.”

         Even after the late night. By dawn Father Gregory had finished morning prayers, and had then started breakfast. Deciding to check on Micah, he knocked softly on his door. Receiving no response, he opened it, to find the room empty.

         Going back to the kitchen, he grabbed a bucket, and headed out to the well for water. Crossing through the vegetable garden, Father Gregory stopped suddenly, dropping his bucket.