A Place So Wicked by Patrick Reuman (life books to read txt) 📕

approach. Toby smiled fakely. “Hello.” Act normal, he thought, just act normal. He noticed the white patch on the one man’s clothes, just below his neck, on the collar, and remembered that that meant he was a pastor. Toby extended his hand. “Hello, I’m Toby.”

The man took it and squeezed, but only lightly, and then smiled. “I’m Pastor Rodrick. It’s good to meet you.” He was barely taller than Toby but much older, maybe in his fifties, or even sixties. His hair was pepper colored, but more white than black.

“You too,” Toby said.

The other man suddenly said his goodbyes, offered his own shake to the pastor, and then joined the crowd. As the two of them talked, Toby took advantage of the moment to absorb his surroundings. He didn’t like where they were. Even if Toby repositioned himself so that the pastor had to look away from the door to speak to him, he was certain the old man would hear or notice Eli trying to enter the door behind him.

Toby returned the nod as the second man left. The pastor turned back to Toby with a warm smile. “So, young man, what is it that I can help you with?”

Toby hesitated, trying to decide what he should do or what he should say. He had to get this man away from the door.

“I can see the uncertainty in your eyes,” Pastor Rodrick said. “Is this your first time at church?”

He had gone a few times with his grandmother when he was little, but other than that, it was. “Sort of,” he said.

“Ahhhh, I see. I’ve seen many a young man in your position, wondering about God and his wonders. Well, you’ve come to the right place. Were you here for the sermon?”

“No, sorry, I wasn’t.”

“It’s all right, young man. Better late than never.”

“I—I was actually hoping to talk to you about something, maybe in private.”

This lifted the pastor’s eyebrow. “Well, I suppose that is what I’m here for.”

Toby waved toward a spot further from the door, near the opposite end of the stage, where few people were. But what was special about that location was that it would put the crowd, sort of, in between them and the door, hopefully masking some of the sound Eli may make. The pastor agreed and followed Toby to the corner.

“I’m sorry to bother you.”

“It’s quite all right!” the pastor said. “I promise you.”

It was time. He was going to throw himself under the bus. He was going to ensure that this man’s attention was on nobody but him.

“Well, you see, my family has been very sick lately, and nothing seems to be helping.”

The pastor’s smile faded, and he nodded.

“I’m just not sure what to do anymore. So, I thought, maybe God…I don’t know.”

“I understand,” the pastor said as he lifted his arm and laid his hand on Toby’s shoulder. “Sickness can be a confusing time, especially when it’s hurting the ones you love.”

“Yes. You’re right. Thank you.” Toby shifted nervously. “I wasn’t sure where else to go for help. See, we’re actually new to town. We just moved in over on Ripley Avenue.”

The pastor’s eyes widened with recognition and then seemed to drift elsewhere, through Toby to somewhere else. Toby thought for a moment that the old man was going to pass out. Instead, he took a step back and pulled in a loud, heavy breath.

“Are you okay?” Toby asked.

“Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry. Just a little light-headed for a moment there.”

Eli couldn’t believe what Toby was doing. It was exactly what he was supposed to do, but seeing it happen, seeing it in action, was a whole new thing. Like it was nothing at all, Toby had walked over to the pastor and started chatting him up. Then, a minute or so later, Toby led the pastor away from the door.

Eli looked in every direction, making sure the coast was clear, that nobody was paying attention to him. Then he hurried, casually, over to the door. He twisted the handle and dipped inside, being sure to close the door behind him this time. The hallway was just as he remembered, portraits lining the walls, a green and gold carpet covering the floor. He wasted no time, hurrying along. He reached the end and rounded the corner. Ahead, he saw the door, the one that man was so afraid he had touched the last time he was there.

He grabbed the handle, twisted, and…nothing. It was locked. He cursed quietly. Of course the damn door would be locked. He was frustrated, and a little scared, but he couldn’t give up. He could feel his time dwindling. Who knew how long Toby could keep their attention? And if they caught him in there…he didn’t even want to imagine what would happen.

The key had to be there somewhere. Unless there was another private hallway in the church, then it had to be there, hidden somewhere. There was a door just behind him, right at the end of the initial hall. He would try there first.

It was an office. Near the back of the room, directly across from the door, sat a large desk. On it were various photographs and paperwork. He rounded the desk. There were a ton of drawers. He had to hurry. He just hoped it wasn’t kept on some keychain that the pastor kept around his neck or something. That would be a disaster.

He started opening drawers on the right side of the desk. One after another, they were all empty. He closed the last one and took in a breath, trying to steady himself, which was proving to be difficult. His heart was racing. In the corner of the room was a large brown grandfather clock, which ticked loudly against the surrounding silence. Off in the distance, he could hear the