“Everyone knows. Makes me shit fire biscuits every time I drink it. But it won’t kill you. Long as you let that faucet run for a while so the lead can drain out.”
He sighed, appearing even paler than before, and blinked at Grizz with his watery eyes. “Look, Mr. Fallon. There’s no easy way to talk about this, but we need to speak plainly about your son’s death. Your son was baptized here. He was a child of God.”
“The only thing that matters to me or anyone else is that he was my child, a Fallon. That name means something in this town.”
Logan leaned forward and set his elbows on the desk. “I know that you feel persecuted.”
“What do you know about my family? About this town?”
“I know about the accident that killed your father. I know that you did time in Sauk County for statutory rape. And that the girl waited for you until she was eighteen, and she married you before the justice of the peace, despite her family’s objections. I know this wife died shortly after giving birth to Seth and that you raised him alone. I can only imagine how hard it was for you.”
Grizz froze. What had Steve Krieger told this man? Steve had been the one so many years ago to encourage Jo’s family to press charges against Grizz after he caught them in the backseat of Grizz’s Impala. Grizz had been thinking that the pastor might be an impartial witness as an outsider. Once he came out to his property he planned to tell him about that shack in the woods. But if Steve had already painted him as crazy or criminal it might not be any use. That word “accident.” How had he pronounced it?
“They say your great-grandfather was at the hangings in Mankato. They say he was the one who cut the ropes that dropped thirty-eight Indians to their deaths. They say one of those Indians laid a curse on your family and that you bring bad luck to the area.”
Grizz smiled grimly. “They say all that, but they don’t tell you about the water?”
“Some is stuff I’ve been reading in the archives in the library. It’s been a hard week. I wanted to understand. I know about the statues, why you make them.”
Grizz went ahead and sat down. He was quiet for a long time. “Do you know when Seth was only thirteen he bit a boy in his class?”
“I know he was troubled. That he had a history—”
“I’m not talking just teeth marks. He bit a chunk out of the boy’s face and swallowed it. The other boy needed surgery. No one bullied Seth ever again. Instead he became the bully. He became the nightmare.”
The pastor sat back in his chair. “It doesn’t do any good to think about those things now.”
“I can’t stop. I can’t stop thinking about the day he came into town. I still don’t understand. Seth was violent. He could be cruel, but something like this—it was beyond even him.”
“You may have to live with not knowing.” His hands traced his thin beard, and he was quiet for a moment. “You ever hear of sin eaters?”
Grizz shook his head.
“The Welsh had a tradition. When a person was dying they brought in a sin eater, some outcast from the community. They put bread on the one dying and let it soak in the sins. Then the sin eater stepped forward and ate the bread.”
“What are you saying?”
“In unhealthy systems, I’m talking families or communities, there will be a scapegoat. I know that’s what they’ve done to you. I’m telling you that I’m on your side, Mr. Fallon. You’re not an outcast in my eyes. Whatever they told me, it doesn’t matter. Whatever it is you think happened that day, it’s over if you want it to be. I only know that we need to put your son to rest.”
“You believe in hell?”
“Yes.”
“You think my boy is in hell?”
“I don’t know. I’m not God.”
“But the Bible has to be awful clear on this point. He committed murder then shot himself. If I want to see my boy again, then I need …”
When Grizz couldn’t finish his sentence, Logan added, “I don’t know what was happening in Seth’s head when he went out there. It’s said that nothing can separate us from the love of God, no power or principality. I believe in your son’s baptism.