Behind The Horned Mask: Book 2, Page 3

  Chapter Thirty One

  Aaron spent the remainder of the week mostly in his hotel room, feeling like he was wasting his time here in the mountains. He awaited direction, something, anything, but got nothing. He looked forward to our baptism, but that wasn’t till Sunday. He was eating up vacation time needlessly in the meantime. I felt bad for him, being alone there. He’d come over to eat dinner with us every evening, and I looked forward to it all day, every day. He was becoming a dear friend, and my mentor.

  I was spending the evenings at Norrah’s, from our threesome dinner parties till the following morning when I’d leave for work. We spent less time in bed than we did reading the scriptures together. We were growing spiritually, and emotionally by falling in love.

  Thursday was a huge day. Norrah filmed an interview at NBC at noon, which would air that evening at eight, and then be re-broadcast several times in the following days. You are probably familiar with the interview, but probably don’t know how well she was paid for it. Being that she blew off increasingly larger offers time and time again, it came to a point that they threw the kitchen sink at her with an offer of seven figures. From poor to millionaire in the span of an hour. The price-tag of a million was supposed to remain in confidentiality, but it leaked out to the public right away.

  Of that money she has kept three-hundred-and-fifty thousand of it. It’s in the bank, collecting interest. She gave ten percent of the million to Calvary Chapel, Aaron’s church. He wept that Saturday evening when she wrote him the check for a hundred grand. He said that money would build the add-on that he had been dreaming of for so long. He went as far as to say it might have been the purpose of his taking two weeks of vacation instead of one. A dual purpose, because in that second week of vacation he met and connected with us, which led to him converting us. Five-hundred thousand of her money was put into a fund that the twenty-three could access to use for tuition and books and dorms and cafeteria meal cards. Brittney was the first to learn of this good news, and did so when Norrah called her. She was humbled, cried and thanked her over and over again, said that maybe her parents would redirect their funds for living expenses now. The good news wasn’t over, Norrah said: she had reserved fifty grand for Brittney personally, to use how she saw fit.

  Brittney and Norrah have since become close friends, phone calls regularly, visits frequent, and I believe they will be close forever.

  The cash award for the interview wasn’t earned, in my opinion. Norrah answered the questions asked, but didn’t offer any ideas of her own. She said not a word of what Aaron had said. She did say the truth, that she heard the twenty-three screaming bloody murder, but didn’t mention that she saw their corpses on more than one occasion. The question the interviewer asked several times (because he was left unsatisfied each time) was what did she believe happened to the kids for those seven days. Norrah said she couldn’t even begin to guess at that. You could almost hear the interviewer thinking We paid you a million bucks for this?

  After the interview aired, pundits of competing news channels opined that Norrah wasn’t being forthcoming, was hiding what she really believed. That bothered Norrah. It wasn’t a full day later that she agreed to give other interviews, and didn’t charge for them. She recited the same things in each interview, but finally added something new, and that was a possible theory as to what happened to the twenty-three. Here’s what she said, in case you missed the interviews:

  “If I was forced to guess, I’d say God had something to do with their return. From the very beginning I knew that they were dead because I heard it happen, heard them being brutally murdered. From what or whom I couldn’t say, but I heard it, plain as day. Paul Klein heard it plain as day, too. When I told him the kids had returned, alive, he didn’t believe me because in his mind he already knew what had happened downstairs, and the only mystery wasn’t the fate of the kids but where their bodies went. Yes, I believe God gave them a second chance, brought them back to life. I can’t guess as to why their bodies weren’t found during that week, unless maybe it was because a buried body can’t resurrect? I know how ridiculous that sounds, but isn’t it true? If they were in coffins, how would they be reanimated back to life? I don’t know, only God knows, so it’s kind of pointless for me to speculate. But today I wanted that to be known, what I really feel in my heart, and that is God is responsible for delivering those kids from death. In these recent days I have found God; this episode is the reason. How could I not believe when I witnessed such a miracle? It opened my eyes. And for that I’m grateful. Something good came out of this, and hopefully others will find Him because of it.”

  She thought that interview would lessen the rumors and suppositions, but that wasn’t the case. She was a bible-toting whacko, some pundits said. She gave more interviews to try to redeem her reputation, but to no avail. She did receive praise once it leaked that she set up a foundation for the twenty-three, and that she gave the church a large donation.

  We had told no one of our plans of baptism. Norrah, Aaron, and myself ate a sumptuous breakfast that Sunday morning before heading out to the dock and boat-ramp. There wasn’t a lot of ceremony involved, as I had imagined there would be. Aaron hadn’t any formal robes or anything, so that’s probably why. He wore his tuxedo minus the bow tie and jacket. Norrah wore a white dress purchased just for the occasion, and I wore Dockers and white dress shirt.

  It was sunny out, but still cold at this early hour. There were a few beer cans on the sandy beach, gulls picking at scraps of food, ducks at the shore and some swimming in the shallows. The lake was deep blue with arcs of reflected morning sunlight, and looked freezing-cold. There was a residential tract of houses to our left, a community named Evergreen Estates, a gate letting access to this beach from that exclusive community. They were two long rows of houses, the front row facing the road (behind a fancy decorative gate), the back row facing the lake. There was a communal boat dock to our right, and a line of dense shrubs behind us, separating us from the busy road following the contour of the lake. There wasn’t a soul in sight, save for us three and a speedboat in the great distance, droning at a high speed. We heard cars motor by us frequently. They wouldn’t be able to see us, unless they glimpsed us through a gap in the shrubbery, but it didn’t matter. We weren’t hiding, but we did want privacy for what we were about to do. We were constantly aware of Norrah’s celebrity, so privacy had become a kind of constant ambition of ours.

  The three of us gathered in a circle at the shoreline. Aaron said a long thoughtful prayer. So touching it was that Norrah and I had watery eyes. I felt like a child. In a way, we had become children again, she and I. Born again. That morning Aaron wasn’t my friend but something much more. Never had I respected and admired someone as much as I did just then.

  Upon concluding the prayer, Aaron said, “I hope this water isn’t as cold as I think it’s going to be.”

  Norrah grinned at him. I hissed and winced, said, “If we tossed an ice cube in there, I wouldn’t expect it to melt for a good while.”

  He nodded and took a deep breath. “So be it.”

  We kicked off our shoes and peeled off our socks. Even the sand was freezing cold. I took Norrah’s hand, faced the lake with her. Tiny waves lapped at the shore. A pair of love-bird ducks glided across the water before us.

  Aaron was the first to take a step into the water. He was a brave man. He marched right in, slacks and all, and kept going until the water was at his stomach. He didn’t hiss or make a face. He was a stronger man than myself!

  I smiled over at my girlfriend, appreciated my fortune in having her. She smiled back, asked if I was ready, and not just ready to enter the freezing water, but to give myself over to the Lord.

  “Absolutely I am. I’ve never been more ready for anything. And there’s something else, sweetheart.” Her brow arched a little. “I want you to know how much it means to me that you’re doing this with me, by my side. That we are doing this together, as a couple bonded not only by Go
d but by love and devotion for one another. And when I say love, I mean love. I have developed feelings for you that I’ve never before felt. I know this feeling to be love, Norrah. I just wanted to tell you that before we did this together, that I love you.”

  She flung herself on me, hugged me tightly, kissed me. “Oh Jay… I love you.”

  Aaron clapped from the water. “God bless you two,” he said. “May your love last an eternity.”

  “I don’t believe that will take much of a miracle,” I said to him.

  “I can’t wait to have babies with you,” she said, still hugging me.

  I humored. “Let’s not pull the cart before the horse.”

  “I know. It’s just exciting, isn’t it? We’re forming a new life with God, and with each other. A family. So naturally I picture new members of our family, little ones who have half your features and half mine.” She grinned at me, an impossible one not to reciprocate.

  “Hopefully more your features than mine. Ready to do this?”

  “I am,” she said boldly. “Let’s do it.”

  Hand in hand we took our first step into the blue water, our eyes fixed on one another’s. We didn’t stop sloshing our way until we were at Aaron’s side. We were crying unapologetically. Norrah’s white dress puddled up at her stomach; she pushed it down but it floated back up.

  “Incredible,” Aaron whispered. “Praise God for this small miracle.”

  “You too?” I said to Norrah.

  She nodded, wiped her eyes. “I don’t feel it at all.”

  “Nothing,” I said. “I feel nothing. The water is neutral. How on earth?”

  “It’s not of earth,” Aaron said.

  We bowed our heads, Aaron prayed. He recited verses of the bible, none of which I had yet read with Norrah during our studies, but I looked forward to reading them. And when I’d read them I’d remember this profound moment, when I entered a lake of freezing water and felt nothing physical but everything emotional.

  He dunked me in the lake first, then Norrah, washing our sins clean. Born again we were. It’s more than a term, it’s a sensation, an overwhelming presence felt in your heart, and that presence is God. We hugged in a circle as Aaron offered a final prayer. At its end we broke apart and trudged our way to the shore, side by side by side.

  “Tell me you see her,” Aaron said solemnly. “Tell me it isn’t just me.”

  I looked over at him, then followed his gaze to the tract of houses at our right, the gate separating Evergreen Estates with this public beach. The gate was open, as it had been, but who stood before it was new. It was a little girl whom I hadn’t before seen, but knew her identity as positively as I knew my own.

  Norrah stopped, gasped, covered her mouth, eyes wide and exultant. “Is it… her?”

  We all stopped just before the shore.

  “You see her?” Aaron marveled.

  “Yes,” I whispered. “I sure do.”

  Magdalena stood there like a ghost, motionless. She wasn’t smiling, but had a pleased expression.

  “Unbelievable,” Aaron said. “This is awesome, I want to speak with her. Let me introduce you guys to her.”

  As we took our first steps onto the shore, the girl took one step backward, through the archway of the black iron gate.

  “Don’t go,” Aaron said at her.

  She took another step back. That’s when Aaron took to a sprint. With that she turned and ran along a cement path snaking around the perimeter of the community.

  “Wait!” Aaron shouted.

  Norrah and I waited at the shore, watched Aaron disappear behind a tall hedge of bushes lining the inside of the gate.

  Maggie was quick, but Aaron was quicker. She was better than forty yards ahead of him, but he was slowly gaining on her. He’d later say that he wasn’t sure why he put chase to her, but felt compelled to do so. There were questions to ask her that he had wracked his brain over all week.

  The walkway curved around the front row of houses facing the main road. Maggie glanced back at her pursuer, continued along the path. A car drove by. The passenger looked back amusedly at the man soaking wet running his ass off before an upper-crust community. Surely there was a great story there, the man would think.

  “Please, stop!” Aaron shouted at Maggie. She didn’t.

  He was only thirty yards from her now, bare feet slapping the concrete as he dashed. Also barefooted, Maggie turned at a fork in the path that was between two large lots, three story houses with imposing facades on either side. When he turned onto that same path he glimpsed her cutting left onto another path just past the second row of houses following the shoreline, and lost sight of her behind some shrubbery. When he reached that path he couldn’t find her.

  Huffing for air he stopped, scanned the area for her. There were boathouses to his right, front yards to his left. Massive houses stilted above the ground to offer the wealthy home-owners exceptional views of the lake. Houses with sectional windows spanning two stories. Houses with guest houses. He strolled along the walkway catching his breath.

  “Magdalena? Where are you? Please, I want to talk to you.”

  Aaron walked by the first boathouse and stopped at the second, a rectangular wooden structure with a door facing the walkway and an open back. The door was open, a padlock hanging on its latch. A young man was inside, sitting on the aft bench seat of an aluminum boat, facing the motor, its cowl open. He was tinkering with something.

  “Excuse me,” Aaron said and stepped closer to the door, “but did you see a little girl just run by?”

  He looked up, startled. “Shit, you scared me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No I didn’t. Hey, do you know anything about boat motors by chance?”

  “Not the first thing, sorry.”

  The young man returned his focus back to the motor, ran his finger down a hose. “I don’t think it’s getting any fuel,” he said.

  “Wish I could help,” Aaron said and took his first step away from the boathouse. Then stopped, looked back at the man contemplatively. He scrutinized him, felt something awaken in his memory. “Do I know you?”

  The man looked up at Aaron briefly before returning to his motor. “I doubt it.”

  Aaron stepped inside the boathouse, shadowy at this front end, bright at the wide open other end. “Name’s Aaron.” He reached his hand to the man in the boat, who stared down at his greasy hand and apologized for not shaking.

  “Taylor,” he said. “You live around here?”

  “No. I can’t shake the sensation that I’ve seen you before.”

  He nodded, as if he expected that to be the case. “You probably have, if you’ve watched the news at all lately.”

  “You were on the news?”

  “I give up,” Taylor said and stood. The boat listed side to side. He stepped onto the planked landing of the boathouse. “I’ll have to get a mechanic to take a look at it. Do you know any good boat mechanics who work for cheap?”

  “No, sorry. I guess that’s why you look familiar, I’ve been watching the news a lot lately.”

  “As everyone has,” he muttered. “Especially those who live up here.”

  “Wait a minute…” Aaron said with sudden remembrance. “You gave an interview, didn’t you?”

  “Yep.” Taylor sighed and lowered the cowl over the outboard engine.

  “Incredible!” Aaron said and reached his hand out again to shake. “I don’t care about the grease.”

  Taylor shrugged and shook his hand.

  “This is really something, my friend,” Aaron said. “This is truly something special. I believe I recognize you not from the interview but from your jaw and mouth. Well,” he said inwardly, “maybe mostly from the interview, but I was at the party that night.”

  The man’s eyes doubled in size. He stepped into Aaron and hugged him tightly, taking Aaron wholly by surprise. Aaron hugged him, clapped him on the back.

  “Good to meet you, bud,” Taylor said. “It’s cra
zy isn’t it? How sharing something like that can bring together virtual strangers, but I feel like I have a brother in you already and we just met.”

  “Agreed. Something like that forms a kind of bond that will never end.”

  “Which one were you? I was Raggedy Andy.”

  “Frog.”

  “Cool, I remember you. You were sitting alone at the table, huh?” He stepped out to the walkway with Aaron at his side, closed and locked the door behind him. “I’m glad you happened by. So you don’t live around here then?”

  “Nah, was just passing by.”

  “What a coincidence, huh? I don’t believe we’ve met before. You don’t go to U of R, do you?”

  “I went to Fresno State.”

  “Sweet. I love the Bulldogs. They have a bad-ass wrestling team.”

  “Have you met with any of the others from that night?”

  “Not yet,” Taylor said, “but I chewed the shit with a couple buddies over the phone. Dustin and Jordy—Mouse and Batman, if you remember them. I didn’t go to any classes this week, but I’m returning tomorrow. I’m dreading it. I’m sure a lot of people will be hounding me, asking question after damned question. I’m just glad that the party wasn’t at my house. It was supposed to be, originally.”

  “No kidding?”

  He nodded. “My parents vacation got pushed back so the party got moved over to Paul’s. Well, Norrah’s.”

  “I see. So you live here with your parents?”

  “Kind of. I live in the guest house. It’s much too small to host a party. It’s more like a small studio apartment—then again Paul’s room wasn’t so big either. Oh well. But if the party had been here, who knows what might have happened.”

  “Maybe nothing,” Aaron said.

  “Yeah, maybe. But maybe the same thing, or worse. It would be my name all over the news, if it had.” He pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket and wiped his hands on it, began walking away from the boathouse. “Let’s go for a little walk.”

  Together they strolled along the walkway, past a private dock and more boathouses. Aaron was awed over the giant houses and the meticulously maintained landscape. He never thought a property could look so magnificent without any lawn whatsoever. There was only dirt, lots of pine trees and a complete absence of pine-needles, no carpeting of them like you’d find anywhere else.

  “So Aaron,” Taylor said, looking down at the sidewalk before him, “have any nightmares since that night?”

  “No. I take it you have?”

  He nodded grimly. “Not just me. Jordy and Dustin, too. Nasty ones. I mean really fucked up. I wake up screaming.”

  “What of?”

  “What else? The party.”

  “Jordy and Dustin too?”

  “Yep.”

  “May I take a guess as to what happens in them?”

  “By all means,” Taylor said intrigued.

  “Do you recall one of the masqueraders? A guy with a horned black hat, a white porcelain mask?”

  Taylor stopped, then Aaron. “Go on,” he said.

  “He killed us,” Aaron said.

  “Some guess. What do you suppose that means? That we’re having the same dream?”

  “That the guy behind the horned mask really left an impact on you all?”

  “Yes.” He retook his leisurely pace, Aaron at his side. “I suppose it’s not all that crazy, being that the dude was the only one who didn’t end up missing, other than Paul. He was creepy, man. That damned smile.”

  “Yeah he was. Taylor, did you happen to catch Norrah’s interview on CNN last night?”

  “Last night?” He reflected. “No, I must have missed that one. Not that it matters, they’re all the same. She knows as little as anyone. I heard she got paid a grip of dough for that NBC interview. Isn’t that nice, bitch profiting off our misery?”

  “First of all, she’s just as miserable as any of us. You have no idea what she went through, being the home-owner and only one left to answer questions. People harass her, allege she’s responsible for what happened. Secondly, that ‘bitch’ is a dear friend of mine.”

  “Oh, sorry.” He looked over at Aaron. “Really, I’m sorry. That was uncool of me to say. And you’re right, I didn’t consider that.”

  “No worries. And you should know that she gave most of the money away.”

  “Yeah I heard about the scholarship fund. That is pretty cool. I just figured she did it so people wouldn’t accuse her of profiting off our suffering.”

  “She’s not like that, Taylor. She’s a sweet, giving person. Anyway, the CNN interview was different from the others. Check it out on YouTube. She finally gave a theory as to what happened to us all.”

  “No kidding? What did she say?”

  “She said she heard us getting murdered, was certain we had all died.”

  “Really…” Taylor mused. “She’s nuts then.”

  “But your dreams…”

  He nodded. “So what does she think, that we got murdered and a week later got resurrected somehow? Got put back together?”

  “That’s her theory, yes.”

  “Why don’t we remember it happening then? There are the dreams, sure, but those are just dreams, not memories. We’d remember it happening, wouldn’t we? Not to mention how impossible that is.”

  Aaron took a deep pensive breath, faced the lake which shimmered under the morning sun. “Taylor, I uh… I do remember it happening. What Norrah said, it’s the truth. It happened.”

  Taylor was slack-jawed, speechless.

  “It’s true. I do remember. Her theory isn’t a theory to me, but the reality of it all.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It all happened so fast. Kids screaming and running away from him. I was pleading with you all to repent, to beg God for forgiveness. He didn’t like me saying that, so he… he tore my tongue out.”

  “You’re shitting me,” Taylor whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

  “I don’t blame you for not believing me, but it’s the truth. I saw everyone die. I saw Raggedy Andy’s heart get ripped out of his chest, a heart still beating in his disgusting hand. I was the last to go. The last to die.”

  Taylor put a hand over his heart. “If what you’re saying is true, we rose from the dead. Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Is that any harder to believe than we vanished into thin air for seven days only to return just as we had been, as if nothing had happened? Which is harder to believe?”

  “Who was the guy? Do you know?”

  “I don’t. Something evil.”

  “Some thing?”

  “He wasn’t a man. Demonic.”

  “The devil?”

  “No, I don’t think he was the devil. But I believe God brought us back. Who else could perform such a miracle?”

  “I respect your belief,” Taylor said, “but I disagree. There has to be some logical explanation, even though I can’t think of one. Even though no one can think of one. But demons and God and all that, eh… I just don’t buy it. I don’t believe in God.”

  “Maybe that’s why you were there,” Aaron said under his breath.

  “You believe in God?”

  “I’m a pastor. Yes I believe in God.”

  “Really? Honestly, you’re a pastor?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re contradicting yourself then. No offense, man. You just said I was there because I don’t believe in God, but you yourself were there and do believe. If you’re implying that it was the devil killing us, or that God let us die because we are atheists or whatever, then why weren’t you spared?”

  “It’s a long story. I chose to be there, knowing something was going to happen, though I didn’t know what.”

  They stopped together where the path forked. They turned around and together headed back the way they came.

  “I think if I shared my story with you,” Aaron said, “you might be more apt to believe what I’m saying. I live in Fresno. I’ve never
been to southern California, let alone Lake Arrowhead. I know nobody here, didn’t even know where the party was to be, yet I came here with a tux and mask and somehow knew that I’d be there. There was a force guiding me here, and I believe that to be the hand of God. If you have some time, I’d like to talk to you about it at length.”

  “I’d love to hear it, man. I mean it, I’d love to hear it.”

  “I’m with a couple friends. Norrah and that cop who was with her that night. They’re over at the beach. How about early this afternoon I stop by and we talk?”

  “That would be great. You know where I live, so just stop by any time. Just walk up the cobblestone path around the house, it leads to the guest-house. I’ll be there all day.”

  “I’ll do that.”

  “I bet the others would love to hear what you have to say, too. Sounds like you’re the only one with any kind of conviction as to what happened. Right or wrong, you have it figured out. The rest of us haven’t connected a single dot. Well I can’t speak for everyone, but those I’ve spoken with.”

  “The others would love to hear what you have to say, too,” Aaron repeated to himself, meditatively. “I wish I didn’t have to return to Fresno tonight.”

  “Not that I believe what you said, but if you’re right about God and stuff, how incredible would that be, that God brought us back to life after being murdered. I mean, how amazing is that?”

  “Very,” Aaron agreed, dwelling on that assertion: ‘Others would love to hear what you have to say, too.’ “When I return later, would you give me the phone numbers of the others?”

  “You got it. The ones I don’t know I can get. I’ll give them a heads up, even. They’ll be thrilled, trust me. You don’t know how all-consuming it is to seek the answers that just aren’t there. I figured you could empathize with us, but turns out you already have your mind made up.”

  “I appreciate this more than you know, Taylor.”

  “My pleasure. This might give us some kind of closure—if we come to believe what you tell us is true, that is.”