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“Oh, Crow…” she said, and her voice broke, but this time she didn’t descend into sobs or hysterics. This time there was just a hint of her old strength in her eyes and in the line of her jaw. Crow prayed that more of that strength would come back.
He touched the IV port taped to her wrist and smiled at her. “You snuck out of your room, you naughty girl. ”
“They wouldn’t let me see you…and I had bad dreams. ” A wince of disgust flickered over her face. “Horrible dreams. ”
“Dreams?” he said hollowly, remembering the doozy of a nightmare he’d just had. “About…what?” he asked and immediately realized how stupid that question was.
r /> Val shivered. “You know…about him. ” Then the sobs came again and she wept quietly, slow tears carving warm trails across the battleground bruises of her cheeks. Crow held her hand to his own cheek, and he wept with her.
5
Tow-?Truck Eddie lay on his back and looked up at the plain, unbroken expanse of the ceiling above his bed. Sunlight slanted through the windows, bisecting his recumbent nakedness. He had not moved so much as a finger since he’d come home from the orientation for his new part-?time job. He’d just walked in, gone right upstairs, stripped, and lay down on the bed. Only his massive chest moved, rising and falling with deep regularity. Lying there felt good. A mild late afternoon breeze was wafting in through the open windows, the cool air murmuring over his bare skin, puckering his flesh into goose bumps that felt vaguely erotic. He felt his nipples harden, and then his…
“No!” he snapped, immediately angry with himself. With a grunt of self-?disgust he rolled out of bed and went over to the closet, yanked the doors open, and stared inside. The clothes were all neatly folded and precisely stacked. He selected a pair of black sweats and pulled them on, hiding his nakedness, his hands jerking the clothes into place with ferocious shame. After he was dressed, he stood for a while and made himself calm down. The warmth of the cotton sweats changed the tightness of his skin, chasing away the gooseflesh and the shameful erection. He stood with his eyes closed, focusing inward on the events of last night. A smile slowly dawned on his face as the image of the dying man, the Baptizer as Eddie now thought of him, floated with bloody clarity in his mind. It steadied him to think of the Baptizer lying there, covered in blood, broken into all the ritual pieces, arranged in the correct way. Tow-?Truck Eddie knew he had done it just right, had gone through the rite in exactly the correct way, and the knowledge of that chased away the baser thoughts of the flesh, of his own flesh.
He turned around and looked at the shrine that stood framed by shafts of rich golden sunlight. It was as if God had cast a spotlight on it, and it lifted Tow-?Truck Eddie’s heart and made his soul soar with joy.
He crossed the room and knelt in front of the shrine, bowed his head, and prayed for a long time. His prayers were unformed, just random thoughts and images from deep within his being that he offered up to his Father. Outside, birds sang in the dogwood trees and Tow-?Truck Eddie thought it was the sweetest thing he had ever heard, like the singing of angels.
He crossed himself and then reached down for the little mallet and struck the tiny Sanctus bell seven times, because seven was God’s number. The bell, though small, had a clear, high ring and the reverberations wandered gently around the room. Then he reached forward to the small ambry he’d made late last night. It was made from the knotty pine that had formerly been his entertainment center, but Tow-?Truck Eddie’s skillful hands—the hands of a carpenter, he reminded himself—had taken that wood and reshaped it from something of pointless value to an object that was most holy. He pulled the doors open, reached inside, and removed the vessels of the Eucharist and placed them on the credence built onto the side of the ambry. He closed the doors and addressed the elements, again crossing himself. He took the paten and placed it on the top of the ambry, which was to be his altar. He had not had time to procure official vessels, and so his paten was a heavy white porcelain dinner plate that he had washed seven times before consecrating it with many prayers. His chalice was a thick pewter boxing trophy he’d won nearly twenty-?five years ago. Into it he poured pure water from a bottle of Evian he’d bought at the Wawa for just this purpose; Tow-?Truck Eddie did not believe in alcoholic spirits of any kind, not even wine. Finally he lifted the ciborium. It was only a Tupperware container, but it would have to do until he could obtain the real thing. He pried the lid off and removed the Eucharist, holding it in his hands, feeling its weight. He raised it to his nose and filled his nostrils with the scent. It was extraordinary.
He set it down on the paten and took the knife he had prepared specially for this moment. “When first I came among you,” he said aloud, addressing the whole world, “my blood was shed and my body broken by mine enemies. My blood became your wine and my body became your bread and each of you fed upon me to keep alive the New Covenant. Now I make with you a Final Covenant. No longer shall you drink of my blood or eat of my flesh, but of your blood shall I drink, and of your flesh shall I eat. In this way, the Son of Glory shall know his place, and in this way shall the righteous know their Lord. Today, in your hearing, I declare myself the Son of man, the Son of Heaven’s King, the righteous and unyielding Sword of God. Today, I accept the offering of this man who was beast and man, who was unholy and holy. Today is the first Holy Communion of the Final Covenant. All glory to God the most high!”
Tow-?Truck Eddie carved a thin slice of the Eucharist and held it up even as he lowered his eyes in humility before his Father. He prayed for many long minutes, and then he raised his head and put the Eucharist into his mouth and ate it. When he had eaten, he took the cup, and after he had blessed it, he drank.
Instantly the power within him seemed to grow, to swell, to explode with the light of a thousand suns in his brain, and he cried out in sheer joy and wonder. Tears ran down his face and his face crumbled into a mask of sobs. He bent down and beat his head against the floor, thanking God.
It took a long time until he could even raise his head, so great was his joy, so overwhelming was the moment. When he did, he sat for a while and made himself calm down, breathing slowly in and out, sniffing back tears. Then he took a freshly laundered white towel and began cleaning the communion vessels. Last of all, he lifted the Eucharist and returned it to the container. Tow-?Truck Eddie was surprised at how large it was, and how heavy, though it was a bit lighter since he had washed all of the Baptizer’s blood off it. He sealed the human heart in the container and returned it to the ambry, satisfied that there would be enough of it to last him for many days. He was not worried about it spoiling; if it came to that he would simply find another. There were always sinners out there.
After a while Tow-?Truck Eddie got up and dressed for his part-?time job.
6
The big cop looked mildly down at him, and then frowned when he saw the bruises on Mike’s face. “Did you get the number of the truck?”
Mike blinked. “What?”
“The Mack truck that did that to your face, kid. ”
“Oh,” said Mike, and he forced a fake grin, “I, uh, fell off my bike. Rolled down a hill over some rocks. ”
“And then what? A Mack truck fall on you?”
“It looks a lot worse than it feels,” Mike lied. “Hardly feel it. ”
“Okay,” said the cop, a knowing skepticism in his eyes. He wore a glossy black nameplate that read GOLUB. “So what can I do for you?”
Mike nodded at the hospital entrance. “I just want to go in. ”
“To see whom?”
“Huh?”
“Increased security, kiddo. Haven’t you been watching the news?”
“Oh. Yeah. Uh, I’m here to see Mr. Crow. Malcolm Crow. ”
“What’s your name?”
