Evil Agreement (7 page)

Sammy now closes his eyes and sits limply back into his
chair. He rolls his head once and then his eyes flutter open. His eyes are once
again the eyes of Sammy Porter.

The Reverend speaks to Sammy.

“Mr. Porter, tonight you mingled your blood with the blood
and ashes of the late John
Farnum
, Sutton’s Fire
Chief who had served each of us and the Prince of Darkness well since he became
a Keeper over forty years ago. We all have shared in that blood union tonight.
We have joined you as you have joined us. That blood and ashes potion was mixed
with a bone from the family of the one who deceived the first Keepers that
night long ago. Mr. Porter, now and forevermore you are one of us, a Keeper.
Welcome.”
 

They all rise and proceed to approach young Sammy Porter and
shake his hand. He blushes from all of the attention.

Reverend Mitchell hands the cup and bone to Mrs. Lawless and
she carefully returns it to the security of the wall safe. Soon the safe is
closed, locked and the bulletin board is returned to its usual place.

Reverend Mitchell raps his knuckles upon the table to get
everyone’s attention.

“Please, if everyone could be seated we can go on to the rest
of our affairs.”

The room returns to a complete silence as they each await
direction from Reverend Simon B. Mitchell. The Reverend serves as the current
leader of the coven. He became the coven’s new leader when he succeeded the
late Cornelius Schenk who had been one of the Town’s most successful
businessmen. Long ago, Schenk founded a business manufacturing wooden screen
doors and windows. His company, Schenk Screens Incorporated, at one time
employed 360 people. After the Korean War, he sold his business to a large
national company for what some say was several millions of dollars. He died in
1960, at the age of fifty-one, from syphilis. He had gone stark raving mad at
the end. There had even been rumors that he had taken his own life.

The truth was neither. The Reverend Simon B. Mitchell, then a
young twenty five-year old assistant pastor of the local church, had strangled
Cornelius Schenk to death.

Moloch had told the Reverend it must be done. The Reverend
was an obedient servant. Indeed, he was a most obedient servant.

10

Aaron woke up with a huge headache. His temples were
throbbing with a pounding that seemed to increase with any movement. His eyes
ached from a different sort of pain. They seemed to burn from within. He could
only manage to open his eyes after a huge effort, and then only just a mere
slit of an opening. He looked about the room and realized that it wasn’t his
own place. He sat on the couch for a few minutes trying to get a grip on his
battling senses. He spotted his pants draped across the back of chair. He
reached over and grabbed his pants and slipped them on. Aaron now seemed to
remember talking to the beautiful waitress that had served him last night.

What was her name?
he thought.

His morning after mental fog began to lift as he tried to
focus upon his whereabouts. He stood up with the aid of holding on to the arm
of the couch. As he looked about, he began to remember the layout of the place
and more.

Korie
, that’s her name
,
he recalled speaking it in a whisper. He looked at his wristwatch. The digital
display told him it was a quarter to twelve or nearly
noon
. Aaron headed to the bathroom, tiptoeing as he went.
He remembered that her bedroom was just off the hall, which leads to the
bathroom. He used the bathroom to relieve himself. Aaron also borrowed some
toothpaste to swish around in his mouth. His mouth had tasted like worn out
carpet. Now it felt almost normal.

After exiting the bathroom, he tiptoed to the door which led
to
Korie’s
bedroom. It was open slightly. As he tried
to sneak a peak inside, he noticed a note taped to the door. Aaron pulled the
taped note from the door and headed to the kitchen. In the kitchen, he read the
note.

Good morning, Aaron.

I had to leave to go to work. Today I have a double
shift at the restaurant. I’ll try to call you this afternoon when I get a
break. If you’re still there, that is. Please help yourself to anything you
want. If you want some fresh coffee, just turn on the coffee maker. It’s all
ready filled and ready to go.

If you have to go, I left the number of the local cab
company on the note pad next to the phone. Don’t worry about locking up,
because my landlord keeps a close eye on the place.

I want you to know I enjoyed talking with you last
night. I hope your head doesn’t hurt too much.

    
Hugs,
Korie

Aaron put the note into his pants pocket. Later after he had
a cup of coffee, he called the cab company, whose number
Korie
had left for him. The bright summer light hurt his eyes when he first stepped
outside. He held his right hand up to block the direct effect of the
afternoon’s light from his eyes.

“Where to?”

“Take me to The Royals.”

The cab backed slowly down the narrow driveway. The cabbie
had all the windows of his cab fully open.

“If you don’t want the windows open, I’ll close them,” said
the young driver.

“No, it’s fine. I’m enjoying the fresh air.”

Moments later, the cab pulled into the half filled parking
lot of The Royals Restaurant. Aaron got out of the cab and paid the driver. The
driver gave him a friendly wave as he drove off. For a moment, Aaron thought he
would go inside the restaurant and see
Korie
. After a
moment, he decided against going inside. He had made a spectacle of himself
last night. She had been a Good Samaritan and helped him out. He would leave it
at that.

Aaron fished around his pants pocket and came up with his car
keys. He went over to his car and unlocked it. As he opened the driver’s door,
a blast of hot air pushed at him from the car’s overheated interior. He went
around the car to all four doors and rolled each window completely down. Aaron
drove off, heading to his own place. From his apartment, he would call a local
florist and have a bouquet of flowers sent to
Korie
at the restaurant, as an expression of his gratitude for her having befriended
him the night before.

From the moment the cab arrived in the parking lot of the
restaurant,
Korie
watched Aaron’s movements from
behind the tinted windows of the restaurant. As she served her lunch crowd
customers, she kept an eye on the parking lot.

Would he come inside and thank her?
she wondered.

Her thoughts were quickly answered when he headed towards his
car. When the car pulled out of the parking lot, her heart sank.

There you go again
Korie
,
helping some stray,
she thought to herself. For a moment she indulged
herself with some self pity. She had liked Aaron. There was a quiet but
sensitive quality about him that she was attracted to. Her defenses took over
now. She closed her mental drawer on Aaron, as she focused her attention
entirely upon her job.

After entering his condominium, Aaron immediately called a
local florist and ordered a huge bouquet to be delivered to
Korie
by
three o’clock
that afternoon. He
dictated a note to be delivered along with the flowers. The florist took down
Aaron’s charge card number and assured him that the delivery would be on time
as requested.

Aaron headed to his bathroom to take a long shower. Half an
hour later, he emerged from his bathroom freshly shaved and showered. He went
to the kitchen and poured himself a tall glass of milk. Aaron then opened the
cupboard and pulled out a bag of chocolate chip cookies.

Milk and cookies for lunch. What would my Aunt, check
that, my Mother, say about that?
he thought.

He could feel the “blues” coming on, so he pushed the thought
back deep into his mind.

With a fresh change of clothes, Aaron headed out the door on
a mission. He was going to the bank to retrieve the diary that his mother’s
letter spoke about. The safety deposit box key was safely tucked away inside
its envelope. He still carried the letter from his late mother. The jacket was
sitting on the passenger side seat of his car. His mind was swirling with
questions as he drove north along the highway back to Boston.
He had a growing urge to follow this mystery to its conclusion, wherever it
would take him.

Meanwhile, back at The Royals Restaurant a florist’s delivery
car pulled up in front and the young driver got out of the car. He opened the
hatch back and removed a large bouquet of colorful flowers. He took the front
steps to the restaurant two at a time. In a moment, he is speaking to the young
female hostess. The hostess tells him to wait at her station for a moment. She
enters the restaurant’s large dining area and searches out
Korie
.

After whispering to
Korie
, the two
of them returned to the Hostess’s station.

“This is
Korie
,” said the young
hostess.

“I’ve been instructed to give these to you personally. Oh,
and this card, too,” said the young delivery boy as he placed the bouquet into
Korie’s
outstretched arms. He tucked the note into the
bouquet.

“Have a nice day,” said the delivery boy as he turned and
hurried out the front door.

The two women just stood there giggling over the surprise
bouquet and admiring its beauty and fragrance.

“I’ll find something to put them in,” said the hostess.

“That would be great,” said
Korie
.
The hostess disappeared and in a few moments returned with a large, open
mouthed wine carafe, half filled with water.

“I rinsed it out first,” said the hostess as the two women
opened the bouquet and arranged the flowers inside. As they finished with that
task,
Korie’s
eyes went wide.

“My customers,” she said as she turned away and hurried
towards the dining area. She slipped the note into her waitress’s skirt pocket
without opening it.

“Please put them in a safe place will you, Heather?” said
Korie
from over her shoulder as she hurried back to work.

“Don’t worry, I will,” said Heather.

Later that afternoon, Aaron walked out of the Bank of Boston
with an old tattered leather bound book under his arm. He reclaimed his car
from the bank parking garage and after several more minutes, he was once again
on the Southeast Expressway heading south towards his condominium back in
Middleborough
.

Later, instead of heading to his condo he found himself
heading back to The Royals Restaurant. He decided he needed to see
Korie
. Over the last few miles he practiced several
versions of an apology. He took the leather bound diary with him into the
restaurant. The hostess was new—at least Aaron didn’t recognize her from the
night before. He requested a table in
Korie’s
section
of the restaurant and at the window if at all possible.

The hostess said he could have such a table in a few minutes.
As he stood in the waiting area he looked inside the dining area and could see
Korie
moving from table to table. Aaron enjoyed looking at
her. She had a graceful way about her. Her face carried a natural smile that
made her look radiant.

“Sir, sir...Your table’s ready. Sir, I said your table’s
ready,” said the hostess.

“Oh, yes, thanks.”

“Follow me, please.”

As Aaron entered the dining area,
Korie
immediately noticed him. She gave him a warm smile.

“Here you are, sir. A window table just as you requested.
Enjoy your dinner. Your waitress will be with you in a moment.”

“Thanks.”

Aaron sat at the table. He placed the leather bound diary to
the side of the table.
Korie
came to his table with a
pitcher of water. She filled his water glass.

“Look, I want to apologize to you for my drunken condition
last night. And I want to thank you for your kindness in seeing to it that I
had a safe place to sleep it off.”

“Hey, it’s okay. It is not a problem, really.”
Korie
standing before Aaron shifted her feet. Their eyes
met. He wanted to say more but felt uncomfortable. She wanted to tell him she
really liked him but she was unsure of his feelings.

“Well, anyway, tonight’s special is ...”

“Wait, why don’t you surprise me? You order for me.”

“I can’t, I...”

“Please. Oh, and no alcohol tonight. I need a clear head.
Look, I picked up the diary that my mother wrote about,” said Aaron as he
placed his right hand on the old tattered book.

Korie
looked over at the diary.
Then she looked back at Aaron.

“All right. I’ll be right back.”

She turned and left. As she walked away he admired her legs.
They were slender and seemed to him to project the delicateness of a ballet
dancer.

Aaron pulled the diary over and carefully opened it up. The
inside cover had faded inscriptions in several different hand writings, which
read:

The words of this journal are the true and honest
account of my life, Irene Powell, formally of Sutton,
Vermont. Born March 11, 1842. Died May 1, 1870.

This journal holds the account of my life as well,
Constance Morgan Powell, Born December
1, 1862. Died Approximately June 1892.

Colleen Day Powell, Born June 22, 1877 and died December 30, 1911.

My life and accounts by Sarah Miller Powell, Born July
7, 1900. Died February 10, 1931.

Mary Fulton Powell, Born August 2, 1920. Died June 1, 1941.

Elizabeth Corbin Powell, Born September 17, 1940.

Aaron Corbin Powell, Born November 11, 1966.

Aaron took out a pen from his inside jacket pocket and added
next to the entry for Elizabeth Corbin Powell the inscription that she died on May 14, 1997.

At that moment,
Korie
returned with
a bowl of steaming hot clam chowder with a small bowl of oyster crackers.

“You’re going to love the chowder. We’re sort of known for
our chowders. It’s made from scratch.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, anyway, I’ll be back later, enjoy.”

Aaron took a small handful of oyster crackers and dropped
them into the soup. He picked up his soup spoon and carefully took a taste,
after blowing upon the steaming soup settled in his spoon. Its taste was
delightful. Aaron now returned his attention to the diary, as he slowly ate the
clam chowder. He was soon deeply engrossed in the accounts of this, his family
journal. Starting at the beginning, he slowly turned the delicate pages. They
were well worn with the edges creased and slightly torn in several places.

Time seemed to fly by as he studied the accounts of Irene
Powell, his great grandmother several times removed. He learned more about this
coven, devil worshipping cult. He read about the several attempts to locate her
and how she eluded their efforts.

“Shit, I just can’t believe this,” he thought. His mind was
swimming with all sorts of images.

He skipped ahead several pages into the diary to an entry by
Colleen Day Powell. It was dated August
4, 1907.

There was a strange man who visited the house today.
Mrs.
Cullity
spoke to me about this gentleman, who
came calling and asking about me. She said, she told him nothing. He said he
was a long lost relative from Vermont.
He told her I had come into some property and he was sure I would want to be
informed about my good fortune. He insisted he had traced me to this house
through correspondence with relatives back in Vermont.
He left his card and directed Mrs.
Cullity
to be sure
I received it. He said I could reach him at the Mayflower Hotel.

Mrs.
Cullity
said the man
seemed to her to be untrustworthy. She inquired at the Mayflower with her good
friend Mrs. Hobbs, as to the circumstances of the man who called himself Mr.
Harper. It seems there was no one registered at the Hotel with that name. There
was a gentleman there who resembled Mr. Harper but he had given his name as Mr.
Carpenter. Mrs. Hobbs says all of her girls, that she is responsible for, are
afraid of this man.