Chapter Ten

Halloween passed, with its costumes, parties, candy and perhaps even a genuine haunting or two. Joe had dressed up as the television version of Batman, and handed out candy to the neighborhood kids. Thanksgiving, similarly, passed. Joe invited Judy and a few of the other neighbors he knew were alone over for turkey, stuffing and beer. The winter gift-giving holidays, Christmas in Joe’s case, and New Year’s Eve also passed as they do every year.

On January 2nd, once all the lingering traces of his hangover from the New Year’s Eve celebration were gone, Joe, no, Cyrus called his secretary.

Although his secretary knew what Cyrus did during the summers, as well as where he did it, they did not discuss what either of them had done over their summer vacations. It increased the likelihood of one of them accidentally blowing the other’s cover, and Cyrus very much enjoyed escaping into a normal life after a few months doing revivals.

“I’m coming down. What do you have lined up for me?” Cyrus asked his secretary, Grace.

“You’re going to be a busy guy this year, Reverend,” Grace said. She told him when and where the first couple of revivals would be, and said she’d email his itinerary with the rest of the stops for the next three months.

Grace spent her summers in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood in Florida. She also enjoyed being left alone by the people who were so eager to meet the Reverend and ask for, well, whatever it was they wanted to ask for that week. She had a cell phone with an area code in Arkansas she used for arranging the Reverend’s business during the off-season. There was an address in Arkansas to match the phone number, which was actually just a mail forwarding service.

It was good to keep the crazies from knowing where to find you.

Reverend Milton called on January second every year, to see what the tour was going to be like. He and Grace would usually meet at a hotel in Montgomery, Alabama by January seventh. Depending on how antsy the Reverend was, he would frequently arrive a couple of days early to bum around town and get back the hang of talking with a drawl, as well as understanding what people said if their drawl was particularly thick.

By January tenth, the Reverend had his wardrobe for the tour selected and tailored. On the eleventh he would get his hair cut.

On the twelfth, they departed for the first revival, which was usually the second to last weekend in January.

Cyrus said goodbye to Grace, and hung up the phone. He went to his computer and checked his email. Grace had already sent his itinerary, and he was indeed going to be busy. They would be traveling a lot between revivals, and there was one scheduled every single weekend for the next three months. Three months he would have to remain perfectly in character, lest anyone suspect he have a secret.

And he did have a secret. Actually, many secrets. And Reverend Cyrus Evander Milton would really prefer if no one else learned about these secrets. He especially preferred if the faithful didn’t find out about it. If there was one thing they loved more than Jesus, it was judging, condemning and endlessly gossiping about an authority with caught with his pants down (metaphorically speaking, as well as literally).

Sure, he’d probably be able to come back in a year or so with a sob story about how he’d wandered from the path, but had found his way back and was a stronger person for it. The faithful also really loved to kind-of forgive someone who fucked up. Or he could figure out a way to discredit whoever learned his secret. That would be a lot of work though. And regardless, if they found out he was a fraud who spent his summers drinking beer, riding motorcycles and driving around in an old Dodge, he would never again have the earning capacity he currently had. So it was important that he not slip up.

Fortunately, the Reverend knew he was up to the task of being, well, Reverend Cyrus Evander Milton.

Cyrus sat back in his desk chair and contemplated the things he needed to do before he left for Alabama. First up was getting plane tickets. Then packing his few essentials. His neighbor, Sam, had agreed to keep an eye on his house this year, so he would just have to turn down the heat to keep the gas bill reasonable and he’d be all set.

His neighbors knew that Joe Anderson spent a few months in the southern United States each winter, but he was always vague on where he went, and what he was going to do when he got there. He was going to spend some time visiting family, and that was all anyone needed to know. And honestly, that was all they wanted to know about their nice neighbor Joe, who was so generous with his tools, and always invited every one over for beer and hamburgers.

Joe loved how the people in his neighborhood were so trusting. It kept him from having to tell big lies that he might later have to feel bad about.

He got up and went into his bedroom, where he pulled a vintage alligator-skin suitcase he’d scored at an estate sale out of his closet. Already in the suitcase, in two of the inside pockets, were his King James Bible, two tubes of Brylcreem, a black, pocket-sized comb and a gold necklace with a large cross pendant. He packed as much of his underwear and socks as he could fit into the suitcase, and got his toothbrush case out of the closet.

And with that, he was packed.

After that, he went into the kitchen and made himself dinner. About an hour after he’d eaten, he went back to his desk and figured out the details for his flight. He decided to leave as soon as possible. Ten minutes later, he had a ticket to Alabama for one thirty-seven PM the next day.

The doorbell rang then, startling him. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and had been in Cyrus-mode, not Joe-Anderson-mode. He took a second to compose himself, and turned off the monitor on his computer. Then he went to answer the door.

Judy was waiting outside, with a stack of neatly washed dishes.

“Hi Joe,” she said. “I knew you would be leaving sometime in the next couple days, and I just wanted to make sure you got these back.”

“Hi Judy, come in, come in,” Joe said. “Do you want some coffee?”

“No, I have some errands I have to run. I’m going to be going south for a couple of months too. Probably until May or so. I’m going to visit my sister in Texas for a while,” Judy said.

“Oh, wow, when are you going to leave?” Joe asked.

“In about a week. I figure I should get down there and see her before either of us shuffle off the mortal coil,” Judy said, and chuckled.

“Well, I hope you have a great trip! Is someone going to look after your house this winter?” Joe asked.

“Yes, my neighbor Dan is going to make sure the place doesn’t burn down or cave in,” Judy said.

“Good. Well, I guess I’ll see you sometime in May then, eh?” Joe said.

“I suppose so. Have a wonderful time, Joe,” Judy said, and turned to walk back down the steps.

“You too, Judy. Say hello to your sister for me,” Joe said, and watched Judy as she made her way down the steps and back towards her house. He shut the door against the cold, and tried to shake the weird feeling he had all of a sudden.

He felt like something was going to go horribly wrong, and soon. He couldn’t think of anything that could go wrong, however. Grace had everything handled down South, all he had to do was show up, look good and preach up a storm. Up here, his house was going to be taken care of, all of his bills were already scheduled to be paid electronically, the motorcycle and car were all set to be stored for the winter.

Cyrus walked through the house, looking for things out of place, or just anything he got a weird vibe off of. He checked each room, then the basement. He put on his coat and went out to the garage. Everything seemed fine. Weird.

Joe didn’t usually get the jitters before he left. He knew what was at stake every time he went a-preachin’, but most of the time he just felt excited to give people what they wanted while making a very tidy profit.

Eventually he went to bed, and he slept poorly that night.