The parsonage was an old white clapboard structure built at the same time, and in the same style, as the hundred-year-old church.
Inside, Wilkes led Keith to the small sitting room and indicated a sagging armchair. Keith sat, and Wilkes sat opposite him in a rocker. Wilkes said, "I've got some sherry."
"No, thank you." Keith looked at Wilkes in the dim light. Keith had seen him a few times at weddings and funerals over the years, but it had been at least seven years since the last time. The man seemed to have shrunk and shriveled a little more each time.
Wilkes asked, "Why were the police here?"
"Writing down license plate numbers."
Wilkes nodded. He didn't say anything for a while, then looked at Keith. "You're George and Alma's boy."
"Yes, sir."
"Did I baptize you?"
"That's what they tell me."
Wilkes smiled and said, "Did I marry you?"
"No, sir. I've never married."
"That's right. You went off to the Army, then worked for the government."
"I went to college first. Bowling Green. You warned me about loose college women."
"Did it do any good?"
"Not a bit."
Wilkes again smiled, then asked, "Are you back to stay?"
"I don't think so."
"Why'd you come back at all?"
"To look after the house."
"Is that all?"
Keith considered, then replied, "I'd rather not lie, so I'd rather not say."
"Well, I heard a rumor about why you're back, but I don't spread gossip, so I won't tell you what I heard."
Keith didn't reply.
Wilkes asked, "How're your folks?"
Keith filled him in on the family and added, "How is Mrs. Wilkes?"
"The Lord saw fit to call her home."
Keith realized that the standard response of "I'm sorry" wasn't appropriate to that statement, so he said, "She was a fine woman."
"Indeed she was."
Keith asked, "Why didn't you attend the meeting?"
"I don't mix religion and politics. Too many young preachers do that today, and they make half the congregation mad."
"Yes, but there is social injustice in the world, and the churches can help."
"We do. I preach love and charity, grace and good deeds. If people listened, there wouldn't be any social injustice."
"But they can't listen if they don't come, and even when they come, they don't listen."
"Some come, some don't. Some listen, some don't. I can do no more."
"You know, Pastor, I saw Lutheran ministers in Dresden organize those marches you saw on TV. They helped bring down the communist government. Same with the Catholic priests in Poland."
"God bless them. They followed their conscience." He added, "If it will make you feel better, I can tell you I'd die for my faith with no hesitation."
"Hopefully, that's not required."
"You never know."
"But you did let those people use your church. And you did run the police off."
"Yes, I did."
"Do you know what that meeting is about?" Keith asked.
"I do."
"Do you approve?"
"To the extent that nothing illegal or violent is discussed, I do." He added, "You know, it's an old rural tradition to use churches as meeting places. Goes back to a time when the church was the only rural building big enough to hold a lot of people, and town was too far away by horse and buggy. St. James has seen all types of political and patriotic rallies going back to the Spanish-American War. I don't own the place, I'm just God's steward."
"Yes, but you'd keep the local Klan out, I'm sure."
"God's steward is not a bigot or an idiot, Mr. Landry." He added, "I didn't invite you in here to question me. I want to ask you some questions. If I may."
"All right."
"Thank you. Do you approve of that meeting?"
"In principle."
"Have you discovered that all is not well in Spencerville?"
"Yes, I have."
"Do you happen to know Chief Baxter?"
"We went to high school together."
"But I sense by the words and actions of those policemen that you've come to his attention more recently than high school."
"No... well, perhaps I have. But I think it has more to do with the fact that there was some bad blood between us in school."
"Is that a fact? Were you rivals?"
"Well, I never considered that we were. But apparently he thought so." Keith wasn't sure where this was going, and there weren't many people he'd sit still for with this type of questioning, but Pastor Wilkes was one of them.
The old man seemed to be thinking, then said, "My memory is not as good as it once was, but I seem to recall that you were courting his present wife."
Keith didn't reply.
"In fact, I think your mother told me that."
"She probably did."
"Perhaps, then, Mr. Baxter is upset that his wife's former beau has decided to return to Spencerville."
"I was her lover, sir. In college." No reason to mention high school and get the man upset.
Wilkes replied, "Call it what you will. I understand. Do you suppose that upsets Mr. Baxter?"
"That would be very immature of him."
"God will forgive me for saying so, but none of the Baxters have shown a great deal of maturity over the years."
Keith smiled.
"Her maiden name?.. Prentis, correct?"
"Yes. Annie."
"Yes, Annie Prentis. Good family. Pastor Schenk at St. John's speaks highly of them. We all talk, you know. Even the priests at Immaculate Conception. The ecumenical council meets monthly, and, after the business is done, we gossip terribly. We never use names unless it's absolutely necessary, and nothing leaves that room. But one hears things."
"I can well imagine." Keith realized that Pastor Wilkes sat on a joint board similar to the one Keith had recently left. In fact, as Jeffrey suggested, Pastor Wilkes was privy to great quantities of intelligence information that would rival anything that Police Chief Baxter had in his files.
Wilkes added, "Our purpose is not idle gossip. We want to help, to try to head off divorces, to counsel young people who've gone astray, to keep temptation from men and women, and vice versa. In short, to save souls."
"That's very admirable."
"That's my job. Oh, I know what you're thinking. You think Spencerville has become the village of the damned. Well, most people here are good, God-fearing Christians. But many people have strayed. It's no different in other communities. I'd like you to come to church this Sunday, then join us afterward for tea and fellowship."
"Perhaps I will. But you know you're preaching to the converted. You should reach out to the others."
"They know where we are."
Keith wanted to be gone before the meeting broke up, so he said, "Well, thank you for rescuing me from the law."
But Pastor Wilkes took no notice of Keith's wanting to leave, and he said, "Mr. and Mrs. Baxter are having some difficulties, as you may know. Pastor Schenk is counseling Mrs. Baxter."
"What is that to me?"
"Someone saw you speaking to her downtown."
"Pastor, this may be a small town, but an unmarried gentleman may speak to a married woman in public."
"Don't lecture me, young man. I'm trying to help you."
"I appreciate..."
"Let me be blunt. Thou shalt not covet they neighbor's wife."
This did not completely take Keith by surprise. He replied, "And I would advise you, Pastor, to tell Pastor Schenk to remind Mr. Baxter of the adultery commandment."
"We all know about Mr. Baxter. What I'm telling you... I shouldn't reveal this confidence, but perhaps you already know that Mrs. Baxter is very taken with you."
This was the best news that Keith had heard in weeks, and he considered several replies, including not replying, but said, "We've corresponded over the years, and she's never indicated that to me. She's done nothing wrong."
"That depends on how you view a married woman writing her former... boyfriend."
"She's done nothing wrong. If there were any improprieties, they came from me."
"That's very noble of you, Mr. Landry. I know you think I'm being very old-fashioned, and I thank you for humoring me."
"I'm not humoring you, I'm listening to you, and I understand your position and your concern. I assure you my relationship with Mrs. Baxter has been strictly platonic."
"Well, see if you can be the strong one and keep it that way."
Keith looked at Pastor Wilkes and, against his better judgment, or perhaps because he had to tell someone, he said, "To be honest with you, Pastor, the spirit is indeed willing, but the flesh is weak."
Pastor Wilkes seemed momentarily speechless, then said, "I appreciate your honesty." He added, "And pleased you remember scripture."
Keith stood and said, "I should be going."
Pastor Wilkes took his cane and stood also. He walked Keith to the door, they went out onto the porch, and Keith saw that the meeting was still in progress. He wondered how many witnesses Gail and Jeffrey had assembled to confess to their dealings and intercourse with the devil. Keith turned back to Pastor Wilkes and said, "Apparently you knew more about me than you indicated when I sat down."
"Yes, but I didn't know if you were the type of man I could talk to. I saw that you were, and I gave you unsolicited advice and information. I hope you're not offended by the advice and that you keep the information to yourself."
"I'm not offended, and I'll keep this conversation to myself. But I am concerned that people are talking about me."
"Mr. Landry, you came home to a small town that is very troubled, and ironically, one of our problems, the problem of Mr. Baxter as public official and as husband, has become your problem. But don't let it be."
"Why not? Why should I do less than the people in that church?"
"You know very well why. Examine your motives, and consider the consequences of your actions."
"Pastor, since I left Spencerville, I've served as a military officer in various capacities, and all of those capacities had life-and-death consequences for me, my colleagues, and, between us, for this nation."
"Then you don't need a sermon from a country preacher."
"But I appreciate your concern."
Pastor Wilkes put his hand on Keith's shoulder and looked him in the eye. "I like you. I don't want to see anything happen to you."
"Me, neither. But if something does happen, will you see to the arrangements here at St. James?"
"Yes of course." Pastor Wilkes took Keith's arm and said, "Let me walk you to your car. Help me down the steps." As they walked, Wilkes said, "Keith... may I call you Keith?"
"Of course."
"I know that something is going on between you and Annie Baxter, and, to be quite honest, I'm not totally opposed to it. But you must go about it the right way, or it will never be right for either of you."
Keith replied, "I'm still not admitting to coveting my neighbor's wife, Pastor. But I'm listening."
"Good. Listen, and forget where you heard this." He said, "She, the woman in question, is in an unhappy and unhealthy marriage, according to her pastoral counselor. Her husband is an adulterer and a verbally abusive man. I may be from the old school, but I listen to the young pastors, and I'm convinced that she has to leave that marriage before it becomes dangerous. He's become enraged at the suggestion of counseling, and neither the pastoral counselor nor the wife in question sees any hope for a change."
Keith did not reply. He found his car and stood beside it.
Pastor Wilkes continued, "Divorce is acceptable under these circumstances. After her divorce, she is free to do whatever she wishes. You, Mr. Landry, must be patient and must not become part of the problem. This is a good woman, and I don't want to see her hurt."
Both men stood in the dark, a faint light coming from the church windows casting shadows over the gravestones. Keith said, "Neither do I."
"Mr. Landry, I'm sure your intentions are honorable, but the only honorable thing you can do now is to break off any contact with her. Things will work themselves out with God's help."
"And without my help."
"Precisely." He asked, "Do you or do you not intend to stay here to live?"
"I did, but I'm not certain now."
"I think your presence here is fuel to the fire. Can you go somewhere for a while? No doubt, your parents would like to see you."
Keith smiled. "Are you running me out of town?"
"I'm suggesting that if you leave, I can see a happy ending for both of you. If you stay, I see only disaster."
Apparently, he and Pastor Wilkes had reached the same conclusion independently of each other. Keith said, "I didn't think you were going to advise me on how to win another man's wife. I thought I was going to get hellfire and brimstone."
"That's the fundamentalist church down the road. Here we do love and compassion. Will I see you Sunday?"
"Perhaps. Goodnight."