He began making up words as he purposely fell to her side, covering the dots of blood on her arm. Then his mind went blank as she stared up at him, terror-stricken.
Other church members touched her as they began praying. Greer ignored them, searching for the spirits that were never far from his side.
“Help me!” he screamed in his head, wanting to shout it out loud, yet knowing it would only get him removed from her side. “Help me heal Beth.”
Gathering his thoughts, he pleaded for the spirits of his ancestors’ intervention, feeling them fill his hands with their healing warmth that slipped from him into Beth. In his mind’s eye, he saw them trying to drive out the poison that had been injected into her arm.
As he felt the spirits work, he kept his concentration on Beth. When he felt Saul try to move him away, he shouted his gibberish louder, and Saul removed his hand as if he had been stung with the same fiery venom that Beth had experienced.
Greer hated the pastor. What kind of man would do this to his own daughter?
His wife, who was just as fanatical, was dancing as if joyous, while her daughter lay dying. The only one who had any sense was her sister, Lily, who laid Beth’s head on her lap. Her violet eyes met his, tears rolling down her cheeks as she prayed for God’s help.
When he started to feel dizzy, he felt Beth start to slip away from him. The venom was much stronger than his body could handle. The spirits were more than he could channel.
Then he felt a frail hand touch his back.
“Help this child.” His grandmother sank down beside him, giving him the strength to straighten and drive the venom away from Beth’s heart. His hand tightened on Beth’s wound.
Looking down moments later, he hastily moved his hand, seeing the bitemarks weeping drops of cloudy liquid. Greer used the bottom of his suit jacket to discreetly wipe it away.
“Thank you,” he managed to croak out as he fell into his granny’s side.
She scooted them away from the parishioners who were praying over Beth, asking Greer, “You okay?”
He nodded, managing to lower himself onto the pew closest to them. Then Greer helped his grandmother sit beside him.
“Can we go now?” he asked in hoarse voice.
“Give me a minute.”
They sat quietly. Greer had to keep himself from screaming at the parishioners who were under Pastor Saul’s spell, unable to believe how they could be fooled into believing the man was a prophet. He was just a kid, and he could see that the man was as crazy as the coon dog his father had to put down when it tried to bite his baby sister.
“I’m ready.”
Greer shakily helped his grandmother to stand.
As they walked toward the door, he expected to be stopped by the two members of the congregation who blocked the door.
“I need some air.”
His grandmother’s ashen face had one of the men stepping to the side, while the other removed the bar blocking the door.
“You okay, Ada?”
Greer recognized one of the men as someone who would occasionally come over to buy a jar of moonshine from his father.
“Yes, my old body can’t handle all the jumping around like it used to.”
“Greer, you better take your granny on home. Your pa won’t be happy if she overdoes it.”
“Yes, sir,” Greer muttered, steering his grandmother out the door.
Neither spoke as they climbed into the back of his pa’s old Ford.
His father put his arm over the front seat to stare at them. His lips thinned as he then faced forward, flicking his cigarette out the window before rolling it up. “How was the revival?”
The interior of the car was dark. Greer shivered in the backseat, breaking out in a cold sweat. He manfully tried to appear expressionless, knowing his father didn’t want to hear any belly aching. No, a man was expected to be strong, unless it was serious enough to go to the hospital. Even then, you weren’t supposed to show any pain.
“Turn up the heat.” His grandmother put her arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her side.
Greer moved away, not wanting his father to see her mollycoddling him.
“I’m going to throw up,” Greer managed to get out as the bile from his stomach began to burn a path up his throat.
His father swerved, pulling the car to the side of the road. As soon as the car was brought to a stop, Greer jumped out and threw up in the weeds beside the road.
He could hear his father cursing from inside the car as his grandmother rolled down the window to check on him.
“I’m not letting Greer go anymore. Next year, I’ll just put a bullet in that pastor and solve Beth and Lily’s problems myself,” his father threatened.