Decoration Day by Vic Kerry Page B

him.
    “I’ve been hearing that a lot,” David said.
    The sun no longer blinded him. Clouds covered it so thickly that the light entering the room looked like twilight. Rain began to patter on the windows. David felt like he was living in a rain forest of some kind. Risking another wave of dizziness, he stood. His brain heaved forward and then backward but was not overcome with unsteadiness. He knelt by the bed, almost daring the demons of dizziness to overtake him. Everything pitched forward, toppling him face-first into the mattress, which was fitting since he planned such a position. While the world still moved in large loops, David began to pray.
    “Our Father who is in heaven.” David stopped and thought over his words. He wasn’t making a public prayer but a private call of supplication. “My Father who is in heaven, hallowed be your matchless name. Oh Lord, hear me. Don’t blame me for not coming to you last night. I was hindered in my way by forces beyond my control. You have called me to this place. Now stumbling blocks are before me everywhere. Give me guidance. Tell me what to do. Give me a sign. I need the reassurance that I am not losing my mind, and that you have given me a new calling and have revived my faith for the betterment. Protect against evils that hold back your powerful light. Free me from the nightmares and walking horrors like the woman with the octopus face. Oh Lord, give me a sign.”
    A tap came at the door. David looked up from his prayer. The sudden movement didn’t send his brains reeling. Thomasine stepped inside, carrying a small tray with food and his legal pad on it. She placed the tray on the dresser and left without saying a word. David felt he might have gotten his sign. The woman bore a violet aura around her.
    “In the name of your crucified Son, amen.” He ended his prayer and stood.
    The vertigo he’d experienced all the other times he’d stood was gone. He walked to the dresser without any trouble. A bowl of what looked like chicken salad sat on the tray with a few saltine crackers on a platter. Olives also garnished the meal. The ink on the legal pad looked undamaged by the weather. Both the lunch choice and the sermon cheered David.
    “God to be praised,” he said aloud.
    He picked up his sermon notes and walked back to the bed. The chicken salad would be fine in a few minutes. He wanted to review his work. The fervor with which he had written yesterday undoubtedly had left the page full of brilliance. The beginning of the sermon read just as he remembered it. The time it had taken to pull those words from his mind gave them extra power. After half a page, the words became incomprehensible. They were not illegible. Each letter curled just so in dark ink. The letters themselves looked foreign, but not any language David had ever seen. Despite the alienness of the letters, he recognized his handwriting.
    A strong pull came from deep inside him. He walked to the window and looked out toward the church. Through a gap in the landscape he had never noticed before, the church’s spire jutted upward. A violet aura surrounded it. Something as deep inside of him as that pulling told him the words would be translated there. The Holy Spirit lived there; David knew it. That great gift of God would provide translation.
    Wooziness overtook him again. He stumbled back to the bed and collapsed there. The pages of his notepad crinkled beneath him as he passed out.
     
     
    David screamed. The force of it tore through his throat, making it feel raw. After what seemed like an eternity of expelling the shriek, it broke off because his voice could take no more. The terror still clenched him. It took a long moment to realize what he screamed at. The woman in black stood at the foot of his bed. Her veil was piled on top of the large-brimmed hat she wore. The tentacles of her face reached out for him. She was like a strange Medusa who didn’t turn men to stone but paralyzed them with