Redemption
Click’s Four Questions

Had anyone told Sheriff Atkins the day before that he would be standing next to so amazing a being, he would never have believed them. But, in the scant span of four hours, he had seen enough to make a believer of anyone. As well, oddly enough, he had come to take a liking to the strange creature and her exotically beautiful image.

So it was that, when she told him that she saw another crowd approaching behind the one slowly dissipating before him, he held no doubt in her words. Rather, he doubted the sanity of the approaching group.

“Singing hymns?” He echoed in slight shock.

“Yes, I can hear them clearly,” she affirmed, “They are singing one of my personal favorites, ‘Onward Christian Soldiers.’”

“That sounds like . . .” He started, trying to think of which local church that it might be. Finally, he turned to one of his four present deputies. “Hey, Mike, run up around the bend and see who is coming.” As the taller fellow started away, he added, “Pete, go with him.”

As they watched the deputies race past the dwindling crowd, the sound of distant singing could be heard in brief snatches over the murmur of the crowd. Steve wasn’t too very concerned about them, as the bigger threat; the armed crowd was breaking up. Still, the last thing that he wanted to have on his hands was a religious debate.

A form stepped up to him, looking around, he saw the mayor standing there, eying him with curious concern. Looking beyond him, he saw a couple councilmen peering past him at the beautiful illusion. He could not blame them in that, he decided with an inward chuckle.

“What’s happening?” The mayor asked uncertainly.

“One army is trying to decide upon retreating and another is approaching,” he explained wearily.

“What?”

“Do you hear the singing?”

“Any idea of who it is?”

“That’s what I sent Mike and Pete up to replace out.”

“Shouldn’t we just leave as well?” The mayor asked thoughtfully.

“Well, there’s a problem with that,” Steve replied, flicking a wave toward the remaining mob, “We don’t know what these folks have a mind to do. As well, with another group approaching, we don’t know what their intentions are.” Shrugging, he mused, “We could leave and they get here and attack the school building. Or, they could attack us on the road and someone get seriously hurt. So, for my money, the best option is to stand our ground and wait them out. At this, the smaller fellow paused. Finally, he looked up.

“This is some mess-hunh?”

“No,” Atkins decided after some consideration, “Actually, I am sort of proud of what we accomplished here today.”

“What?” Bell demanded in disbelief.

“Think about it: we came out here this morning loaded for bear, hopped up on lies and hysteria. But, over the course of events, we not only learned the truth, but we also discovered an attempt to use our offices as a political cat’s paw. Finally, we not only overcame our fear of something unusual, but we also came to gain that unique being as a sort of friend.” Dropping his eyes in consideration, he shook his head. “I don’t know why, but for some reason, I feel liberated-as if, somehow, I have been redeemed from a terrible wrong.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Bell confessed ponderously.

“But then,” the image offered gently from his left, “we must give the praise and glory to God for this. After all, he is the only source of redemption. All else-myself or this situation-are but humble tools that he uses to work his mighty deeds. He is the true wonderful and unique being.” Hearing this, both men turned to gaze at her in wonder.

“Tell me about it!” Mabel laughed from the other side of the illusion, “All of the things that she can do and she is still the most reverent Christian among us!”

“The greatest power known,” Click replied frankly, “is the ability to believe.”

“So that is how you found it?” Sedgwick astound at the conclusion of David’s recounting.

“Please, Sir, she’s not an ‘it’” the boy began gingerly.

“Oh yes! Yes, I am sorry. It’s just that, I am still getting used to all of this,” the council president explained.

“But that is how you found her?” Another councilman asked.

“Yes,” the boy shrugged frankly.

“I would have been scared witless,” another councilman confessed.

“Well, as scary as it was for me, I have a feeling that it must have been all the more so for her,” the boy mused, “After all, it was just a strange night for me, but for her it was her birthday. I would hate to think of being born in a cold, wet hole in the ground.”

“Thus, gentlemen, you can see why I love this boy so,” Click’s voice announced. Looking around, David saw the image and the sheriff closing on them with the mayor and Miss Thatcher following closely.

“I was just going to say,” a councilman with a large, walrus mustache observed, “I doubt that I could see things in quite that light.”

“So, what are we doing?” George asked the lawman.

“Well, there is another crowd coming,” Steve explained, “We are going to wait for them.”

“Another one?” A councilman gasped from the rear of the group.

“Yeah,” the lawman assured.

“Who?”

“From what we know, it is a church,” Bell explained.

“This is expectable,” The lawman added, “After all, when folks see what they do not understand they tend to turn to their faith, or hysteria, or, in some cases, both.”

“So, what are we going to do?” The mustachioed Councilman wondered.

“We are going to take the bull by the horns,” the mayor explained, “Here and now.”

“Why?” Another councilman demanded uncertainly, “What’s the point?”

“Strategy,” the mayor replied. Then, pointing back toward the road, he explained, “The word has already been spread about Click and what has happened here today. Now, like we agreed in the school, she meets the requirements for citizenship and has as much right to be here as anyone else. But, a lot of folks might not see things that way.”

“In which,” Atkins picked up, “the question becomes where we want to make our stand. Because that crowd that is approaching can either go away, or it can grow. As well, it can either walk away from this happily understanding, or it can fall victim to the lies and political aspirations of men with agendas. If we run for it, then the latter shall surely come to pass. In which case, someone will certainly wind up getting hurt. But, if we meet the threat head-on, here and now, then folks might just walk away with a little better understanding.” At this, a moment of silence fell over them. This was broken by Sedgwick.

“I see your point,” the tanned fellow offered, “And, if given the chance, the entity can explain itself to the crowd. After all, she sure changed my mind.”

“So,” The lawman finalized, “We feel it better to meet this mob here, than to avoid it and half the town get torn up when they go looking for her.”

“Well,” the walrus-mustached councilman accepted, “at least the weather is not that bad.”

“Are you alright, Darling?” Grandpa asked as he knelt down to slip an arm around Cathy. In response, the child nodded. Even so, looking into her eyes, he could see traces of a haunting pain. Recognizing it, he silently wished that he could get his hands on Greesome’s throat. That would be the last time that the fat, loud-mouthed bully would hurt a child. But, as things stood, there was little chance of his doing so at the moment. As that was the case, the best that he could do was to help the child get through this mess.

“You know what?” He asked brightly, when the sad eyes returned to him, he flicked his head toward the east, “I think that we ought to start thinking about going to the beach when it warms up.” Shifting his eyes into a questioning glance, he asked, “Won’t that be fun?” As the child nodded, William found that they were under two different approaches from opposite directions. The one to his left front was David, while the opposing this was from a bewildered looking Dale.

“There’s you grand pappy,” he offered. As the melancholy girl started towards the approaching man at a run, he looked to his grandson. The boy was walking toward him slowly, seemingly in deep thought. When he grew close enough, the old man stood up and looked down at him.

“Are you alright, David?” In response, the boy stopped, but held his pensive gaze. Finally, he relaxed and peered up.

“I am fine, Grandpa. Click was just telling me about the people who are coming.”

“Who are coming?” The elder echoed in slight amazement, “You mean there’s more?”

“Yes,” the boy nodded, “She says that she believes them to be a church or something.”

“That’s about what we need right now,” Winston accepted sarcastically, “Some preacher adding to the problem.” It was then that Planchet walked up, holding his granddaughter.

“What in the blazes happened here, Will?” He demanded in an odd mixture of uncertain concern and outrage.

“From what I understand, a bunch of folks got their bloomers in a wad and sent the mayor and city council out here to shut down the school.”

“What?” The old sailor gasped, “Why?”

“Well,” William replied, shaking his head slightly, “Apparently they were afraid of Click.” Looking down at David, he bade, “Go ahead and tell him.” With that, the ten year old recounted the morning’s events. When he reached the horrible words of the fat bully, however, he refused to repeat them despite the older Planchet’s repeated requests. Finally, his Granddaughter raised her head from his shoulder.

“He called us white-trash and hobos,” she explained, nearing tears again. Hearing this, both men flinched. As the child returned her head to his shoulder, Dale looked at Winston.

“I’d like to kill that son of a-.”

“Click took care of him,” David assured him, “Also, the sheriff made him apologize, or else he was going to take off his badge and beat him to death.” As he recalled the events, his grandfather saw that Mabel and Click’s illusion were approaching.

“Is she alright?” The teacher asked as they drew upon them.

“I don’t see how she could be expected to be,” the shorter man replied with a residual sullen tone riding his voice.

“It may come as cold consolation, but I gave him two skull fractures,” the image assured him in a tone that matched his own, “And, the truth be told, I had to hold myself back from killing him.”

“In that, you are a better person than I am,” Winston admitted through a voice that held more than a hint of anger.

“When he said that,” the teacher recalled, bordering upon tears herself, “I thought, ‘My god! What sort of an animal are you?’”

“Well, like I say, if I would have been here, he wouldn’t be saying anything else and the sheriff and me would be going through the process down at county lock-up,” Grandpa confessed.

“I’m not too sure that I won’t be, if I get within sight of the man,” Dale added, his eyes wide with honest, heartfelt anger.

“I promise you,” Click’s image announced, taking on a stark tone to her voice, “here and now and before all of God’s creation, with the passing of one year, your families will be enjoying the best days that you have ever known, while people like Mr. Edward Greesome are left speechless and envious!” Then, dropping her gaze, she softly added, “I only wish that I could take away the pain in this moment.”

“What more can you do?” Mabel challenged frankly, “You have already done so much. Before today, Cathy has been the happiest that I’ve ever known her.”

“Her grandmother and I had noticed that as well,” Dale told the illusion, “When we asked her last night, she told us that you made her happy. She told us that-if she could anything-she wanted to be just like you. Not because you can do all of those wonderful things, but because you are so kind and offer people hope.” Hearing this, the beautiful facade took an odd expression and stood silently looking at the child. Finally, it stirred.

“In this moment, it is a good thing that this image is not solid. Otherwise, I would hug that child and never let go!” She had no more than said this when the sheriff came urgently walking up.

“Get ready for a helping of fire and brimstone,” he declared.

“Why?” William asked.

“Because one of the churches coming is being led by Preacher Ottimer Thorely.” With the sheriff’s saying this, David realized that he could hear the sound of distant singing. A second later, Grandpa’s shifting to peer down the road betrayed his doing so as well.

“Oh no!” Mabel lamented, markedly rolling her eyes.

“What’s the story on him?” William asked, smiling at the teacher’s antics.

“We are Methodists,” she explained, “But, don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind a good Baptist sermon. However . . .”

“Bad?” Dale asked, taking on an amused look.

“Well, according to Thorely, if you aren’t a Baptist you are going to Hell, straight-away,” Steve said with a slight laugh.

“Oh no!” Thatcher adjusted, “If you aren’t part of his church, you are! A friend of mine, who attends his services quoted him as saying, ‘If you aren’t part of this church, then you are lost-Christian or not, Baptist or not-you are lost!’”

“From what I hear, several of the members of the church have respectfully asked that he move on,” Atkins recalled, “It seems that they replace him to be too radical for even them!”

“I replace men like that insufferable,” the illusion replied, “After all, God alone is our judge. Only he is worthy to judge men’s souls. As well, the word tells us that any who call upon the name of the lord shall be saved.”

“Well, take it easy on him,” Atkins requested, “Because one of his people told Deputy Franks that he is coming out here to ’Drive that demon out of the school.”

“You said ‘One of the churches that are coming,’” Winston reminded over the growing sound of singing, “Is there more than one?”

“Yeah, Pastor Whitaker’s congregation as well.”

“The Lutheran?” The older Planchet recognized. When the sheriff nodded, he laughed and said, “That’s our church!”

“That just goes to show you how frightened people can get,” the blond teacher observed, “A day ago, you probably couldn’t get the two of them in the same room together!”

“Um, Dale?” The sheriff wondered, “Do you think that maybe you might talk to the pastor? We really do not need any more trouble.”

“I suppose that I had better,” the old sailor replied, “Which, I am going to tell him what that Greesome fellow said about my family and, if he going to throw in with him, do not look for us in church anymore!” A slight lull fell over the small crowd as the singing grew still louder. Finally, the image spoke.

“I feel so awful, because this is all my fault.”

“You might be the target of it. But it isn’t your fault,” Steve denied as he turned to walk towards the approaching crowd, “This mess has been festering and brewing since long before David and his family moved to town.”

“I suppose that I had better go as well,” the image decided.

“We’ll all go,” Grandpa countered, “I want these people to know that you have friends.” With that, the three adults and two children fell in alongside of the alien’s image.

The remnants of the crowd that remained were now swallowed up by the newly arrived mass when it came to a stop before the four deputies. There, the throng stood, murmuring softly as they stared at the party around the school. Motioning for Grandpa and the rest to hold up, Atkins stepped out before the massive body.

“Alright. What’s all of this?” In response, a short, pudgy fellow dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, black bow tie and black, broad-brimmed hat stepped out from the front of this new throng.

Marshal!” He greeted in a heavily accented voice, “We have come to drive out the evil that has infested this place!” At this, part of the crowd behind him broke out in a burst of “Amen,” Or, “Hallelujah!” Allowing this to wind down, the lawman looked at him.

“Preacher Thorely, how many times do I have to tell you that I am not a marshal? I am a sheriff. I work for the county-Remember?”

“A book is a book, Sheriff, call it by any other name, and it is still a book!” At this, half of the crowd broke out in cheers and praise again.

“Well now, if you don’t come to the point and tell me what you are doing here, I will book you, and then I will throw the book at you!”

“Alright!” the preacher announced melodramatically, beginning to sway back and forth, “Help me brothers and sisters!” In response half of the crowd began to sway back and forth with the preacher, “Help me uh brothers and sisters!”

“Amen!” Half of the crowd cheered in response. As it did, those not swaying walked towards the distant wood line.

“That’s a good idea, Pastor Whitaker,” Steve approved in sarcastic humor, “You guys go and replace a place to sit down. It’s going to take them a while to wind up.” Oblivious to this, the pudgy man in black and his followers kept swaying.

“Help me brothers and sisters!” He chanted in a rising voice.

“Amen!”

“Uh-help me brothers and sisters!”

“Amen!”

“Praise the Lord!” The voice called out in increased volume.

“Praise the Lord!” The crowd responded.

“We are here to drive the evil out of this place!′

“Amen!” At this, Steve reached up an unfastened the clasp on his pistol’s holster.

“We have come for the demon!”

“Amen!”

“We are the children of God!”

“Amen!”

“We are the children of God!”

“Amen!”

“Help me brothers and sisters!”

“Ame-!” A pistol’s report rang out. With that, the swaying stopped and they all looked and saw the sheriff still pointing his smoking sidearm at the ground.

“I really hate to break up your church service, but it’s getting near lunch and I am really hungry,” Atkins explained as he slid his weapon back into its holster, “Besides, you folks know the law about outdoor religious services. Can I see your permit?”

“They didn’t get one from my office,” Bell shot from the crowd of councilmen.

“We ain’t holding an outdoor religious service, Sheriff!” The pudgy man dismissed snidely, “We are here to drive out the demon that attacked our dear Brother Price! So, step aside and let our mighty flock enter that school!” In response, Steve turned and beckoned the alien forward.

“Why do you want to go to the school? The lady that you seek is right here.”

“What are you saying?” The short, pudgy man demanded as the illusion sauntered up to stand beside the lawman, “That little thing?” In response there was an outburst of laughter on the part of Thorely’s flock and some of the sitting Lutherans. This ceased abruptly when the small silvery orb came floating over to hang above the illusion’s head.

“What is that?” The short preacher demanded, his eyes no less wide than any of the remainder of his church.

“What’s what?” The illusion asked uncertainly over the growing rumble of murmuring. Then looking up, it pointed at the sphere and asked, “Oh! That? That’s me!”

“Oh! My . . .”

“You see,” the imaged explained indicating itself, “That’s really me. This is not.” At this, she gently swung her arm at Steve. With its passing harmlessly through his body, there was an explosion of movement within the two crowds as many turned and fled. Seeing this, Dale started toward the remaining Lutherans, carrying Cathy. As he passed, he stopped and sat her down next to the alien’s facade.

“Stay there with your friend,” he said as he turned and continued on toward Whitaker. During this time, Thorely stood staring in disbelief. Finally, he regained himself.

“Deeeemon! Step away from that child and release that woman!”

“She’s no demon, you darned fool!” Grandpa dismissed fell in line next to the facade, followed by David then Miss Thatcher. Looking around, the boy could see Dale standing and talking to several of the Lutherans who remained by the tree line.

“Give me a break!” The old Sailor dismissed, “She isn’t evil!”

“Brothers and sisters,” Thorely announced, pointing at the image, “The word tells that, in the last days, many false prophets will be seen. That is a false-!”

“Oh?” Click’s image demanded, her voice taking on anger, “I am a false prophet? Well, tell me-.”

“Demon! Be gone!”

“Shut up, you great, chanting baboon!” The alien roared, bringing a pause to both conversations. In the restored calm, she fixed him in a challenging glare, “Tell me, preacher, what day of the week do you hold holy?” At first, the small man could only stand and stare suspiciously.

“Well?” Steve coaxed, “You started it! Now, answer her!”

“Sunday, of course,” the black clad fellow replied.

“And, do you eat bacon? Or, fried Pork? Or, a Christmas ham?”

“What does that have to do with-?”

“Answer the question!” Bell snapped, obviously curious to see where the amazing being was going with her questions.

“I am partial to bacon.”

“And the Christmas-?”

“Yes, alright, we have a Christmas ham,” the short man affirmed, his voice robbed of its accent by anger.

“Now, were the sheriff to come into your church to attend a sermon, would you tell him to leave his hat on, or take it off?”

“Take it off-of course! It is, after all, the house of God!”

“Ah! Very well,” the image accepted, “Now, you come here calling me a false prophet and a demon-right?”

“Yes.”

“Very good. Now, were I a false prophet, or a demon, and I saw you sinning, I would not say anything-right? After all, as either a false prophet or a demon, my goal would see that you were eternally doomed-right?” The small man’s only reply was to stare thickly at her. “Think about it: If I were a demon or a false prophet, whose goal is to get as many as they could sent to Hell, would I tell you that you are offending God? No-right? I would just leave you to your own, knowing that you were doing my job for me and I was free to move on to the next soul.”

“Okay, yeah,” he acknowledged, finally catching on.

“Good. Now, what day of the week did God set as his holy Sabbath?” Again, a glassy-eyed look of uncertainty was his only response, “Come now! On what day did he rest?”

“The seventh.”

“And the seventh day of the week is?” Again, the hesitation.

“Come on, Thorely!” Steve Barked, “Even I know that! It’s Saturday!”

“Right,” the black haired image accepted, “Yet, you hold your church on Sunday, thereby marking it as holy.”

“But that was changed . . .” The preacher offered, trailing into doubting thought.

“Okay,” the image accepted, “We will say that someone changed it and we will return to that. But, for now, let’s move onto the next question. Now, God tells us in the Old Testament that we are not to eat anything with cloven hooves that does not chew its cud. This is an unmistakable reference to pigs. So why do you eat pork?”

“Because it got changed,” the preacher offered in an absent voice.

“So, someone changed-.”

“God changed it!”

“Someone changed it and I shall demonstrate who in a moment.” With that she took a step forward, “You say that Steve should uncover his head in church. And yet, the Old Testament gives us several instances where God told people-both men and women-to cover their heads when they entered his presence.”

By now, the short man was entirely in her thrall, David saw, as well as seemingly unable to keep up with his quick-minded friend. Looking over, he saw the Pastor Whitaker and his church likewise stood listening in deep fascination.

“Now, I am going to tie it all together for you with one verse,” the image announced, “And that is Malachi 3:6.” Pausing, she stepped forward, “Do you know what Malachi 3:6 tells us?” In response, several bibles were opened and pages hastily thumbed through. Her victory was marked with several gasps.

“That’s right!” She elated, “It says ‘Behold, I am God, I do not change.’” Pausing once more, she took another step forward, “So, if he does not change, that which pleases him does not change. Likewise, that which displeases him does not change. But, most of all, that which he commands does not change. So, when he says, ‘Keep my Sabbath,’ yet men keep the day after the day that he stipulated, who has changed? He most certainly did not. Then, when he tells men not to eat pork, but they do so anyways, who changed their mind on that? He most certainly did not. And, when he tells us to cover our heads in humility when coming before him, yet men do not, it is not because he changed his mind.” Pausing, she looked at him frankly, “Now, if I were a servant of Hell and evil, we agree that I would not tell you if you were doing wrong, as I would clearly be better served in holding my peace. So, I just told you three things that you have completely wrong. Tell me, do you still think that I am a demon?”

For a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the wind. Then, wordlessly, Thorely turned and began to make his way through the crowd behind him. His passing through, needless to say, went unmarked by many of his followers, who stood staring at the illusion in amazement.

“Alright folks, it’s all over,” the sheriff announced, “Go on home.” However, upon the black-haired image’s turning, several of the women standing in the mass set after her at a near-run.

“Careful!” Steve warned, fearing that they were bent upon violence. Yet, with their drawing close, they stopped.

“Will you be opening a church,” one asked hopefully.

“Oh! No,” the entity laughed, “I already have a great deal upon my plate.”

“Please!” Another begged, seemingly near tears, “You see things so clearly!”

“But then, so can you,” the alien assured them frankly, “You have but to seek with all of your heart.” Then, after a thought, she paused. “Still, I might be able to spare my time to join in a bible study-that is, so long as David does not mind.”

“Of course not,” the boy replied with an earnest shrug.