03.

Eisen launched a campaign. A rather charitable campaign for the infrastructure of the town of Quaint. The school was completely renovated; the library was restored and stocked with newer books; and the teachers’ salaries were raised. The town hospital also had some changes. The equipment upgraded and professionals were brought in to settle in town. A new wing was even going to be built. The bank, with his aid, would become even more generous allowing anyone and everyone to start and grow their own businesses if they wanted. All this was made possible with the firm support of the Mayor, not that it could happen without his approval. The church was not exempt, it would be renovated as well. The pews would be exchanged for comfortable chairs. The residences of the pastors and elders would also be renovated. The church run program for the orphans, widows and those in need would receive a considerable sum.

The town was positively abuzz with excitement. This would no doubt set them apart from the surrounding towns. They couldn’t wait for all these promises to be fulfilled. Well… most of them were. Not Sal and his wife Erica, though. Both were the town bakers, they were also Addison’s neighbours. They had been neighbours since the couple moved into town. They were more than neighbours, they were bosom friends. The younger couple were the godparents to their fourth child, who even bore the same name as Hadassah. The child had been unbelievably attached to Hadassah, Erica often joked that the baby belonged to the young couple.

When Hadassah died, they were beyond heartbroken and her namesake wept ceaselessly. The little child, barely in her second year of life, constantly called out for her godmother and when she got no answer, she would cry loudly and tirelessly until she exhausted completely herself. This caused the baby to succumb to illness. She would eventually recover, but she wasn’t as lively again. The whole affair caused their hearts to bleed. While Sal would try to convince Addison to take better care of himself, Erica would hide away in tears. They missed her desperately, they were hurt but obviously not as much as Addison. The man was drowning in grief, and they had to be strong for him. Someone had to be. They helped plan her funeral, somberly sending the woman and the child, that could barely be, on their way.

As for the case filed against the monstrous trio, objectively, only a foolishly optimistic person would expect true justice. No, even such a person would know such a thing would be impossible. However, Sal, a burly man, known to be neither foolish nor overly optimistic, hoped for that. He went as far as stalking officers from the station to make sure the case was not tossed out like last night’s garbage. That earned him several warnings which eventually progressed to nights in the holding cell and sometimes, even a fine for public disturbance.

So, when the news of the upcoming reforms spread to the bakers’ shop, both Sal and Erica lost their minds. Sal, still in his flour-covered apron, stormed into the Municipal office howling at the top of his lungs about how ridiculous they were being, selling themselves to such a villain. This episode, undoubtedly, landed him in a holding cell and as was routine, Pastor Richard, the head pastor, came to bail him out.

“You accepted his money?” he already knew the answer, but he asked anyway.

Richard ignored his accusatory gaze as he held open the cell door for him “Let’s head back.”

He remained seated, instead leaning forward as he propped his elbows on his knees as he inspected the pastor with a probing gaze “You used to say they were like your children but yet you choose to trample on them this way?” his voice grew colder and lower with each word until it became a low growl.

“Sal…” he could barely meet the man’s gaze, even though he was seated his presence seemed to engulf him “…things are not that simple.”

“What isn’t simple about it. A person does something wrong, you should condemn their actions but instead you accept his money. You sold one of your own, Pastor. You are complicit.”

Honestly, Sal is easier to deal with when he was raging or throwing a tantrum because when he wasn’t, he was a broody cynical pessimistic individual with a rather unshakable sense of what is right or wrong. It was a mystery how he managed to make the cheerful bubbly Erica his wife or manage to forge an almost enviable friendship with Addison and Hadassah. With Sal, there was never a middle ground or room for compromise. Right now, he believed that Richard was all sorts of wrong.

Richard did not let himself be discouraged, if he explained his stance, someone would understand. Sal, cynical as he may be, was also smart. He would understand the stakes “With that money we can help many people. The church-”

“Can a church run out of people who wish to help? Do you need Eisen’s money in particular?”

“What he does for this town-”

“He does it in exchange for a price.” Sal was determined to not let him have any say “I know, I’m not stupid.” He snorted, straightening as he continued “How would Eisen so easily establish himself in other towns without your support?” he eyed the now slightly uncomfortable man before him “Is that it? You vouch for him and in return, get large donations?”

Several silent uncomfortable minutes passed between the two before Sal broke into a mirthless laugh. “At least, you don’t deny it and you aren’t defending yourself. What an elegant support system you have built Richard. Really, I can’t wait to see when you do when you become a bishop.” He pushed himself to his feet “Isn’t that it?” glowering he shortened the distance between them with slow steady steps “If you can “help” as many people as you can, you’ll be known far and wide as a virtuous person., you might even be known as a saint.” He reached out for the door which had been held open for him but he did not step over the threshold rather, he leaned forward at the waist until his ear was right next to the other man’s ear “I know all about it…” his voice dropped to a complete whisper “…I also know that you and I also know you and the elders have been trying really hard to convince Addison to drop the case and accept the compensation, while you keep delaying the report to headquarters. You don’t want those at headquarters to know your little golden boy is as vile as they come?” with that, he grabbed the handle and shut himself in “I told you before that I don’t need your pretentious kindness, keep that for your fold. My lady will come for me when she has the time.” He added normally as he waved him off.

It was extremely obvious. Addison could tell that the eyes that previously looked at him with sympathy and pity were now filled with indifference and irritation. He was met constantly with such gazes every time he left his home. The trip to bail Sal was not much different. Although Erica had said to let him stay there for the night to cool his. He would like to think it a joke, but knowing Erica, Sal would have to spend another night in a holding cell, he couldn’t bring himself to let that happen. The station was not very far but Addison had been very sluggish lately and so, the journey took longer than it should have. He could see the station in the distance when he was stopped by someone. He had a vague recollection of this person, she was a teacher, right? He couldn’t recall, his mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be.

“Addison!” she called out to him sweetly.

He acknowledged her with a curt nod and a polite smile, unwilling to engage anyone in a conversation but she did not seem to share the sentiment.

He shuffled his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other as she went on about how she barely saw much of him and how he looked awful. Giving noncommittal replies to her questions about his welfare and whether he was managing alright.

“You know, I’m really worried about you. We all are.” She took a step closer, prompting him to take one back. It didn’t bother her much so she continued “Hadassah would be very upset if she could see you like this.”

He regarded her with a raised brow, his eyes unreadable “Is that so?” his usually pleasant and smooth voice was now rough and shaky.

Encouraged by what appeared to be a show of interest in her words, she continued with a soft voice “Yes. It was quite unfortunate what happened, but the ones left behind must keep on living. You can’t give up on yourself this way. Seeing you like this will surely break her heart.”

“Thank you for your kind words.”

But she did not stop “That’s why, Addison, maybe it would be better to lay the matter to rest, I say this for your own good.” She made no specific reference, but he understood clearly what she meant “You are trying to pull down an impenetrable wall.”

At that point, he lost all interest in whatever she could possibly have left to say and resumed his journey.

She carried on, following behind him “You preach forgiveness, don’t you think you should practice it. If you let them be, surely, God will hold them accountable for their actions.”

He came to a halt “I understand what you’re saying.”

“Really?” pleased with his response

“You’re worried.”

She nodded energetically in agreement “Yes! After a while, you’ll be able to move on. It hurts now, but it will get better. This must be a test from the heavens, to… to strengthen your faith. I know that with God, you will surely overcome this and come out stronger…”

He tilted his head slightly to the side watching as she spoke rapidly and passionately. She took his hands in hers with firm a firm grip and prattled on about how she understood him and his pain, how better things were to come as this was just a test of his faith, and how Job had experienced something even more harrowing, but he persevered, and his life only became better. This was the will of heaven and God’s plan was best.

He had heard variations of this sermon multiple times in weeks that had passed all bearing the same theme “forgive them”, “let it go”, “God’s will” and “it will get better”, these words even came from the much-respected elders of the church, at some point, maybe even Richard. He wasn’t sure, the days blended together, and his perception blurred. Back then, it was difficult to say what was real and what wasn’t. Since putting on the cloth, he had never actually taken to the pulpit to give a sermon, but he found himself wondering if he could ever deliver such a sermon, at the time Sal had said no, he wasn’t pompous or self-righteous enough to spout such rubbish.

He wasn’t as stupid or as naïve as they believed, he knew exactly what was happening. It is true that they were worried, but their concerns were not for him but for what they may lose should Eisen decide to stop supporting the town. Even more disconcerting was the fact that he understood their feelings and their fears but why dress it up as God’s will? Why not just say they were unwilling to sacrifice the well-being and welfare of the majority for his sake. That was far easier to accept that than the claims of his tragedy being the will of God. It would have been less insulting than the distasteful farce of concern that they constantly show him while dragging the pain of his wife through the dirt, going on about what she would have wanted. What do they know about what she would have wanted? Could they maybe converse with the dead?

“Thank you.” He blurted out, not caring if her sermon was still ongoing before walking away briskly.

The case made it to the district office, in no small part due to the multitude of impassioned letters of Sal and Erica. When the news reached Quaint, several parties were whipped into a frenzy and what could have been described as an amicable persuasion became oppressive coercion. Addison was pressured to drop the case by the mayor’s office, the sheriff’s Office and even the church; both he and Sal’s family faced all forms of harassment from snide remarks and the occasional exclusion to physical assault and destruction of property. However, they remained unruffled, even the ever hotblooded Sal. Addison had long since been excluded from active service, but now he had basically been expelled. Their lack of response deprived those who sought a reason to openly antagonize them the pleasure of doing so.

With the long-anticipated arrival of officers from the district office, an investigation was underway. Addison narrated the incident the best he could without breaking down. As Hadassah had long been buried, they could only rely on the autopsy report provided by the coroner. Felix, the officer-in-charge, did not seem too pleased with what he had seen so far. In the whole town of Quaint, only Addison could attest to the occurrence of the incident. His sole support, Sal and Erica, were not present at the time and place of the incident. Their belief in him was based solely on Addison’s account of events.

The accused, on the other hand, had a plethora of witnesses, all of whom claimed they never ventured to the lakeside that day. Whether they were incentivized to do so or came forward of their own volition no one could tell.

However, it was well established that the trio were people of ill repute and led a most decadent life. He could tell that much from the seemingly casual conversations the other officers had with the townsfolks but even that, was not viable evidence to convict the three of the crime levied against them.

His expression gave little away but deep down he was filled with disgust as he reviewed what was gathered with regards to the case. He had come across several cases like this and every time it played out the same way. Most of the town protected the one they considered their benefactor, those who did not actively step forward remained silent and indifferent and the victim was left to wallow in pain and disappointment. He was yet again faced with the same case, the same attitude and there was nothing he could but hate his own helplessness. Maybe if some other victims stepped forward, but that was highly unlikely. That Eisen fellow was good at using public interests and opinion. The most stunning part about this matter was that unlike other cases, the victim was a well-known and well-liked cleric. He snorted as the thought came to mind, it would appear that even the church would toss out their own in the face of benefits. He always regarded them as a self-serving bunch anyway. He would write to his parents narrating the matter, maybe this would finally convince them to be less involved in religious matters. He let out a long sigh, he loathed this feeling of helplessness, but he would do his best like he always did when faced with such cases. Advise the victim to move away and help them along the way.

“A family of six and a young widower…” he muttered to himself as she begun to put away the papers scattered before him “…I guess mother would not mind the company for some time.”

Addison was missing,

Much to Sal’s dismay, that was the only possibility. After the investigation concluded, the case was dismissed, and they decided to do as Felix had suggested and leave town. Preparations were in motion when Addison showed up to his place with what could only be his life savings, handed it over and said he needed to get some air. And then, he was gone for days. Sal and Erica had no idea what to do.

He just meant to visit her grave. Really, that’s all he wanted to do. Take some flowers to her graveside but in a daze, he had mindlessly wandered out of town and got lost. When he came to, he couldn’t tell where he was, how he ended up here or how much time had gone by. Sal and Erica would no doubt be very worried.

“You’re awake.”

He heard a jovial voice but there was no one in sight. It sounded deep within him and surrounded him. It was very unnatural… and unsettling. Just before his panic could overwhelm him a being materialized before him.

“Well?” it said with expectation.

“Ah… I must be severely dehydrated...” Addison grumbled to himself, taking a seat on the floor before lying flat on his back “it was just a hallucination.” He added before squeezing his eyes shut.

“Don’t be rude.”

He simply ignored them with his eyes remaining shut.

“Hey!” he felt something poke him in the side “Don’t be so rude when you called to me.”

Silence.

Suddenly, Addison’s body took on a mind of its own as it began to contort into impossible positions and postures. He let out a scream of pure agony as he felt a pain that he had never felt. His insides bore an unquenchable heat like there was a furnace buried deep within, he wished desperately to claw it out of him, but he held no control over his own body. He gasped desperately, in dire need of air as he was plunged into palpable darkness, every time he tried to draw a breath, it would crawl down his throat and the fire would only burn more intensely. His skin was continuously dug into; whatever it was intent on burying itself under his skin. His head grew heavy with pressure as an endless stream of inscrutable information forced its way into his mind, blood oozed out of his seven orifices.  It hurt. It burned. It was endless.

In truth, Addison lay motionless on the ground and barely a minute had passed. He rolled onto his belly gagging as his body trembled violently. No matter how much he inhaled, the air was never enough. He clawed at the ground beneath him until his fingers bled. It was an unending torment. It was cruel. He wept. Helpless.

He had become familiar with the feeling, the feeling of helplessness. He had watched helplessly as Hadassah suffered, and their child was lost. He could only watch, helplessly as the men who tortured his beloved faced no retribution. Again, he watched, helplessly, when the church ignored his pain and the people he had trusted and respected turned their backs on him. Again, when Sal and Erica incurred the ire of the town. Helpless, yet again, when the town fully turned on him.

The feeling of helplessness tormented him much more than any pain that could be inflicted upon his body. He wept, bitterly and loudly without a care. He wept for a long time until he had no more tears to shed; until his throat hurt and voice turned ragged from his howling; until his body was spent and completely exhausted. He gave his exhaustion and passed out.

When he came to, he was met with a cold and unforgiving gaze. Those were the eyes of the woman that towered above him. No, he seemed to be a woman. It seemed to be human, but he could tell it was anything but human.

She bent over at the waist, hovering above him, her cold gaze grew more intense with each passing her voice rang soft and tender, opposing the vicious expression she wore “Addison, you have been rather rude to me.” She tucked a loose strand of her behind her, every move performed with much grace “How should I punish you?”

Since meeting her gaze, he had been paralyzed, fearing even, to blink.

“Kill me.” He muttered dazedly.

“I can but that does not thrill me.”

“Keep kill me, please…” he mumbled continuously as bitter tears begun to pour out.

She crouched by his side, finger extended out to tap his forehead “You poor thing, I am here to help out, you know.”

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