on the sheets for a man to be cut like that, they tell me. All the same, I hope it was suicide, and not something worse.”
“I thought suicide was the unforgivable sin.”
“There’s things worse.” Banner looked at him shrewdly. “Maybe you know what I mean. The Bible talks about witches and ghosts and a lot of other things we think we’re too wise to believe in today. That Renee Reagan was a daughter of Satan, sure as I’m sitting here remembering her. Well, I’m an old man, but no one’s ever called me an old fool, so I’ll just stop talking.”
Feeling uncomfortable without knowing why, Gerry thanked the preacher and rose to go. Rev. Banner stood up to see him off, then laid a sinewy hand on his shoulder at the edge of the porch.
“I don’t know just what sort of trouble you got that’s bothering you, son,” he began, fixing Gerry with his keen eyes. “But I do know there’s something about the old Reagan place that gets to some kinds of people. If that’s the way it is with you, then you better get back to where it is you come from. And if you do stay on here, then just remember that Evil can’t harm a righteous man so long as he denies its power and holds to the way of Our Lord Jesus Christ and his Gospel. But once you accept Evil—once you let Evil into your life and permit its power to influence your soul—then it’s got you body and soul, and you’re only a plaything for all the devils of Hell!
“You’ve got that lost look about you, son. Maybe you can hear that Hell-bound train a-calling to you. But don’t you listen to its call. Son, don’t you climb on board!”
•VII•
With a strange mixture of dread and anticipation, Gerry broke away from Janet’s mawkish attempts to make conversation and retired to the lower veranda for the evening. All afternoon he had thought about returning to Columbus, forgetting this mystery. Yet he knew he could not. For one thing, he had to stay until he could be certain of his own sanity. Barring madness, this entire uncanny business must be either hoax or genuine. If it were an elaborate hoax, Gerry wanted to know who, how and why. And if the cabin were haunted... He had to know.
But it was deeper than the simple desire to explore an occult phenomenon. Renee—whoever, whatever she might be—held a profound fascination for him. Her image obsessed him. He thought of this passionate, exotic woman of another era; then there was Janet. Bitterness returned, and again the memory of the son and the ordered world her moronic carelessness had torn from him. Right now she was sitting like a mushroom, spellbound by that boob-tube, never a concern for her husband’s misery.
His thoughts were of Renee when sleep overcame him. In dream he saw her drift through the screen door and greet him with redlipped smile. She was so vivacious, so desirable! Pittman’s painting had held only the shadow of her feline beauty.
Gracefully she poured two fingers of Gerry’s Scotch and tossed it down neat, eyes wide with devilish challenge. Bringing the bottle with her, she took the chair beside his own. Her long fingers cozily touched his arm. “Nice of you to offer a lady a drink,” she grinned impishly. “Good Scotch is so hard to get now. Been saving this stuff in your cellar since before Volstead—or is this just off the boat?”
“Oh, the Prohibition’s been repealed for years now,” Gerry heard himself say dully, as in a dream. It was a dream. Renee cast no reflection in the barroom mirror.
“Sure honey.” She laughed teasingly. “Say, lover—you look all down in the dumps tonight. Care to tell a girl all about it?”
And Gerry began to tell Renee the story of his life. As the night grew deeper, he told her of his struggle to become successful in his work, his efforts to build a position for himself in society, his marriage to a woman who couldn’t understand him, his son for whom he had hoped everything, Janet’s accident and the death of all his aspirations. Quietly she listened to him, eyes intent with sympathy. God! Why couldn’t Janet ever show such feeling, such interest! Always too busy feeling sorry for herself!
When he finished, mechanical sobs shook his angular frame. Renee expressed a wordless cry of concern and laid a white arm around his shoulder. “Hey, c’mon now, Gerry!