Ch. 6

From the moment the man's hand touched my wrist, I had entered a strange phase of semi-paralysis. My back went stiff, my fingers were so tense that they looked like talons, and my chest had tightened, which made breathing a bit more strained. The fear of death jolted my body as the man's eyes conveyed some bizarre emotion that was simply inhumane. He truly had the gift of transforming into a beast within the span of a second. He released my hand, or rather tossed it down in disgust, and for the third time counting, gave me the cold shoulder. The nerve of this man! A tingling sensation of the blood rushing back to my hand made me rub the area that he had squeezed, and as I did so, I took one last glance at the grotesque shrine of the Lord before taking my leave of the strange crucifix.

I thought the queerness of the village might come to an end after passing the cross, but behind the statue, there were no huts to be found as the trail became much more narrow and dark. There were no more fires to light up the ground before my feet. Naturally it took some time for my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the moonlight, but as it eventually did, I was terrified by the shadow of Mr. Garris's mighty figure. He seemed to have grown three more feet while his arms swung like an ape. The man was a giant with a thick bushy main falling wildly from his head. I slowed my pace for I couldn't believe what the moonlight had done to this man, or what was once a man. He slouched at the shoulders, which now measured to an extensive broadness. I thought I imagined; no, I must have imagined the ground shaking beneath me as he took his heavy steps forward, never looking back to see if I had gotten lost along the way. My fears had built up so quickly inside of me, that I hadn't noticed that our trail had been lost in a small field of bushes. This wasn't good for my composure since the shuffling of bushes conspired with the stealth of the shadows, and I found myself jumping every so often at some sound or flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. For all his warnings and panic, Mr. Garris hadn't flinched once during the whole journey.

I waited, and I waited, but no sign of a hut was visible, and because the silence was filling my ears, I couldn't take the paranoia anymore, so I dared to break the silence. “Excuse me, Mr. Garris, I hate to be a bother, but it is awfully late, and I was wondering if we will be arriving to our destination any time soon?” I was instantly ashamed of the cowardice in my voice which had caused the word 'time' to crack like I was a premature teenager. Mr. Garris seemed to have taken no notice of my timorous question. He came to a complete stop, swiveled his head on his shoulder slowly as an owl would, and with an askance look back, he muttered a quick, “There,” and proceeded to point in the direction of a house or some building sitting quite precariously on a small knoll. With the light from the moon shining on the back of the building, all I could see was the black outline of it, although I was surprised by its sudden manifestation. It took on the appearance of a miniature castle with garrison esque protrusions and steeple shaped points in the sky. By deciphering that one of the steeples had a bell hanging in its middle, I knew, with some regret, exactly what the building was.

“You can't possible presume that I'm willing to sleep in a church for the duration of my stay, or even for one night! Mr. Garris. Be sensible.” My body had regained its full mobility and was throwing my limbs around in confusion. The idea of sleeping in the church was absurd. I thought he must have misunderstood me, but he heard me with perfect clarity. His response gave an unsatisfactory answer to my bewilderment, but it was an answer nonetheless. “You are safest there.” I had plenty of grounds to argue upon, but for some reason they were lodged in my throat and wouldn't come up. We neared the church at a much slower pace, and with every minute, I felt my stomach churn as I observed the tilted building holding on to the ground for dear life. It looked as if a mouse could send the church tumbling if it were to boldly race to the leaning side. How was I suppose to know that the building was sturdy enough to hold my weight?


A number of questions began to fill my head either because of the strangeness of the night or the overwhelming exhaustion from my travels, but the formation of wild and even savage thoughts soon replaced the questions congesting my mind. What if Mr. Garris was planning my death? What if all the villagers were a bit touched in the head? With the sense of deep piety and the constant signing of the cross, this village gave the impression that they were religious diehards. What if I was to be a sacrifice of some sort? What if they came in the middle of the night and held some outrageous ceremony to keep the devil away? By the time the last of these thoughts passed through my head, we were standing before the massive church, with the sharp outline of its shadow forming a kind of force-field around us. Something didn't feel right. I felt hopelessly trapped in the big, jagged-edged shadow of the slanted church.


© Mikal Minarich