Harry finally had an excuse to visit the Andersons.
Earlier in the week, when he’d spoken to Jerry during his walk, the man had shocked him with the news that he and Margaret planned on attending church the coming Sunday.
“Maybe we could all go together?” Jerry had asked, looking sheepish and prepared for ridicule. True, Harry’s jaw almost dislocated from the surprise, but the man had obviously come to him looking for support, and it warmed his heart to hear the Andersons had actually developed an interest in God.
But neither of them had showed.
Harry meant to ask them about it yesterday, but then he’d noticed Father Kern’s car in their driveway and guessed the Andersons had called him for whatever spiritual advice they’d been looking for. The priest stayed for a long time, too, well into the evening, and Harry eventually decided to let the matter rest for the night.
Now he noticed Kern’s car had returned, parked in the exact same place, almost as if he’d never left.
He ascended the front steps and rapped on the door. Like a shot out of some old detective movie, the unlatched door clicked open on the first knock and drifted inward to reveal a scene of devastation: the staircase railing lay in ruin, its banisters reduced to firewood kindling.
Harry stood silent, his gaze taking in the damage.
“Jerry?” he called. “Margaret? Is anyone here?”
The air inside the house attacked his lungs the second he spoke, tainted by a smell that dredged up memories of Saigon hospitals ripened by the heat. He took a tentative step inside, his gaze fixed on a number of rust-colored smears leading toward the back of the house. His breath caught at the sight, and though his better judgment told him he should run back to his house and call the police, he needed to know what happened to his friends.
“Jerry,” he called louder. “Father Kern? Anyone?”
He ventured farther inside, following the reddish-brown trail toward the back of the house. It led out the rear door, across the patio, past the barbeque pit. From his place at the doorframe, he focused his gaze on where the marks terminated in the garden.
His mouth dropped open at the sight.
And for the first time in over fifty years, he screamed.