Part 27 (1/2)
I tried to ease gently into the subject. ”We've just had someone move to Antioch that we thought you might know.” I handed her the photograph and we watched her face closely.
Her eyes grew large and her hand went over her heart. She drew a little gasp and then looked up at us. ”He's in your town now?”
”Yes. He's living on a ranch and preaching under a big circus tent. You may have read about it in the papers.”
She was puzzled. ”No, not Herb . . .” She figured it out. ”He's preaching?”
”People think he's Jesus,” said Kyle, ”and he's letting them believe that.”
She gasped again. ”I did read about that! That's Herb?”
I pointed to the photo. ”If Herb is the man in this photograph, then it's Herb.”
”There was never a picture in the paper and I think the name wasn't the same.”
”He's going by a different name now.”
She was afraid. The hand holding the photo was trembling and her other hand was still over her heart. But she looked up at us and said pleadingly, ”He's a wonderful man. You have to believe that.”
”Well . . .” Kyle had to swallow before he spoke. ”There are many people who are impressed with what he's doing.”
”He's a good man! I would never do anything to harm him in any way. He knows that.”
I asked her, ”Does the name Brandon Nichols mean anything to you?”
She gawked at me, still plainly terrified.
”Did Herb ever mention that name?”
”No . . .” Her eyes seemed so vacant, as if looking into another world. ”Herb's a wonderful man, very sweet.”
Kyle asked, ”Did he ever work at a ranch around here?”
”He was a good worker. Abe loved having him around.”
”Well, yes, but did he ever work on a ranch?”
”I don't know. I only know that he worked for Abe for a while.”
”So-”
”He rode horses. He went somewhere once to ride horses.”
”A ranch around here, I suppose?”
”He was quiet, and clean, and never missed a rent payment, and he was courteous.”
I asked, ”Did he impress you as being a spiritual man?”
That got her going. ”Oh, yes! Very religious! You knew that just being around him! He wouldn't hurt anyone, and I know he won't hurt me!”
”Did he-”
”Because I'm on his side. He doesn't have to hurt me, I'm his friend, I'm his neighbor. I'm Hattie. He knows me.”
”Where's he from originally? Any idea?”
”California. He talked about Southern California once in a while, but always fondly. He liked it here too, and we liked him, didn't we? Of course we did.”
I was getting a very creepy feeling. She wasn't looking at us, but beyond us. Kyle shot a quick glance over his shoulder just to be safe.
”Hattie?” I asked, trying to get her to meet my eyes. ”Are you all right?”
She pushed the photograph back at me. ”Please leave him be. I'm his friend and he knows that. He's the most wonderful man in the world. I loved having him for a tenant!”
Kyle spoke gently. ”Hattie, do you need us to pray for you?” He lightly touched her shoulder.
She jumped as if he'd given her a shock. ”NO! No! I don't need any praying, not by you!” She looked past us as if seeing wolves lurking in the neighborhood. ”I haven't really talked to you, have I? I haven't told you anything.”
”Don't be afraid,” said Kyle. ”It's all right.”
She gave a little yelp and ducked inside her door, slamming it after her. We could hear her whimpering behind the door, ”Go away! Just go away!”
Kyle squeezed his eyes shut and extended his hands toward her door. ”Lord G.o.d, we bind the enemy in Jesus' name!”
I pulled him by the arm. ”And we leave Hattie in peace. Amen.”
Neither of us said much on the drive back to Antioch. In the silence, my mind began to move through a series of inexplicable connections. Brandon Nichols . . . Herb Johnson . . . Abe and Hattie . . . and then further back, into the past, to places I thought I'd never go again. . . .
16.