What a wonderfully secluded hideaway, he thought as he excitedly unbuckled his lap belt. Holding back the nearly overwhelming urge to jump from the still moving vehicle, he felt a serious case of the grins coming on.
"We're here, Father." The driver, whom Lani knew as Bruce Tatum, said shutting off the SUV's engine.
As if encouraging Father Barkin's staring Bruce left the headlights on a few moments more. "Go on, have a look for yourself, Lani."
Lani, as he was known to his friends (Father Lani to his parishners), smiled widely in response and immediately exited the truck. In his excitement to see the cabin up close, Father Barkin didn't notice the looks on the faces of either of his companions, nor did he hear their brief exchange as he walked toward the structure.
"What's wrong, Kenny? You haven't said a word all the way up here." Bruce asked, not once taking his eyes off of the priest. " You're not having second thoughts, are you?"
"No." Kenneth Lundy replied, hesitantly. "It's just that... Well... It's Father Lani."
"Kenny, we've been over this. You know we can't do this without him." Bruce scolded, as he watched the priest attempt to look through one of the cabin's windows. Look at him, Bruce silently mused, he doesn't seem to even notice the rain.
"I know." Kenny agreed sullenly. " But it's Father Lani."
"Cut it out!" Bruce hissed, suddenly staring at Kenny, then softened his tone. "Come on, we need to begin unloading the truck before Father Lani catches his death." Bruce finished with a crooked smile.
Kenny barely restrained a horrified look at Bruce's joke and nodded in agreement. They both got out of the truck and walked back to the tailgate. Kenny's hands shook as he braced himself against the cold. Even though the sky was beginning to clear, the air still held the cold of the barely gone winter, making what little precipitation barely tolerable for Kenny.
I'm too old for this shit, Kenny thought as the cold clawed at his joints. His right knee hurt the worst, having been completely replaced decades ago just before WWII had ended. Kenny shook himself, that was a long time ago.
"Buck up," Bruce told Kenny as they reached the tailgate, then unlocked the door. "It doesn't take too long, and we'll still get some good fishing time in. Have I steered you wrong before?" Kenny was hard pressed to argue Bruce's point, but that still didn't negate his uneasiness about what they were about to do.
Seeing the two men exiting the car, Lani returned to the truck, his hair looking a little damp. Upon seeing Lani's approach, Bruce handed Kenny the keys and told him to go unlock the cabin.
"Is the lake far from here?" Lani asked Bruce as they unloaded their gear.
"Not too far." Bruce answered cheerily. "There's a path, right behind the cabin, that leads through the woods right to the dock."
"Right on." Lani said, as the two men carried their gear to the already open cabin.
Bruce was the first to enter the cabin, followed by Lani. Kenny had already lit a kerosene lamp and was sitting, appearantly trying to catch his breath, at a table that sat to one side of the single room cabin.
"Sorry, there isn't any electricity." Bruce apologized as he set their gear on the floor, just inside the door.
"That's alright." Lani assured. "It adds to the rustic feel." Lani looked over at Kenny, and saw for the first the look of discomfort on the old man's face. "Are you alright, my son?" He asked, hiding a smile. Even though he'd been an ordained priest for over five years now, he still felt funny about addressing his elders as "my son".
"Just a touch of arthritis." Kenny said, as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
"Don't worry Uncle Kenny," Bruce said, as he knelt before the wood-burning stove that sat in the center of the single-room cabin. "I'll get this fire going and then get dinner started."
"I'll get the rest of our gear." Lani said as he turned to exit.
"No, we can do that later." Bruce said as he struck a wooden kitchen match. "But if you're looking for something to do, do you think you can fetch some water? There's a bucket by the back door and there's a water pump, not ten feet back, behind the cabin."
"No problem." Lani agreed cheerfully then, grabbing the red plastic bucket, exited through the door that stood opposite from the door the three men had entered through.
As Lani Barkin emerged into the darkness, he could feel his heart fluttering in response to his excitement. Although it was only seven in the evening, it was already dark, and the night was lit with only starlight. Lani happened to know that this night's New Moon was the second of the calender month. That particular piece of information had come to him from one of the students in his Beginning Bible Study class. The student in question was a college student whose major lay in Astronomy, with- strangely enough- a minor in folklore. The student had told him about how certain cultures had used the Lunar phenomenon to practice, what he called, "Black Rituals." He'd told Lani the name of the lunar phenomenon, but Lani was hard pressed to recall it. Lani knew that the second Full Moon was called a Blue Moon, but what was the name of a second New Moon?
Oh well, no matter, it make's the stars easier to see- whatever it's name- and that's okie-dokie with me.
Lani stopped and closed his eyes as he took in a deep, meditative breath, reveling in the feel of the cool, night breeze as it rustled through his still damp hair.
Lani Barkin had grown up in a small town, having moved to the city to attend the University. Unlike many of the men he'd met at the Seminary, Lani hadn�t planned on becoming a priest. It wasn�t until his junior year at the University that he�d become interested in religion. Despite growing up in a family of Baptists, Lani hadn�t ever counted himself amongst the believers. And though he couldn�t bring himself to accept his family�s religious teachings, he still dutifully attended church every Sunday until he�d begun college. Still, Lani believed there had to be more to life than blind faith.
In his junior year Lani suddenly found himself floundering helplessly in his classes. Then one night he�d come home from his job at a local coffeehouse to find his apartment being robbed. Apparently the thieves didn�t appreciate being interrupted by the owner and had beaten the young man quite badly. During his convalesence, he�d lost his job, found out the beating had left him partially blind in one eye and that his scholarship was going to be revoked due to his sliding grade point average.
Feeling down about his situation, Lani would go for walks, trying to figure out what he should do. On one of these walks he happened by a small Catholic Church. It was the first time in his life that he�d been drawn to something. His feet were hurting and so decided to rest his tired feet and weary mind in the refuge of the church.
As fate would have it (though Lani believed that it had been part of His Plan) Lani walked in at the beginning of a moving and- to Lani at least- inspirational sermon.
He�d gone back to the small church several more times after that and struck up a friendship with the priest there, Father Brian Thompson. It had been Father Thompson who had arranged for Lani to enter the Seminary.
It was at times like this (standing in the wooded splendour of His Creation) that Lani thanked the Lord for His Divine Guidance. Lani believed that without it, he would not have been properly able to appreciate the natural beauty that surrounded him now. And he also thanked the generosity of Father Thompson for having taken such a confused and lonely man under his wing.
Upon opening his eyes Lani found that his eyes had acclimated to the darkness and that he could see the water pump that Bruce had mentioned standing twenty feet away. As Lani set about fetching water, he wondered what he had done to deserve the good fortune of being invited on a fishing trip with two such avid fishermen. Especially once he considered the fact that he couldn't seem to catch a cold, much less a fish of any notable size.
Working the pump handle up and down, Lani thought about the two men that had brought him here as he rinsed out the red, plastic bucket.
Kenny had once been a parishner at Lani's church up until his wife had died three years ago. Lani knew that Kenny hadn't been a particularly religious man. In fact, Lani suspected that the only reason Kenny had come to church at all was because his wife, Emily, had insisted. Lani felt his suspicions were confirmed when Kenny stopped coming to Sunday Service not long after his wife's funeral. All things considered, Lani believed that Kenny was a good man nonetheless.
As he filled the bucket, Lani turned his attention to Kenny's nephew, Bruce. He didn't know much about Bruce, and from what Lani could tell, neither did Kenny. According to Kenny, Bruce was twenty-three and had lived on the East Coast until his job had transferred him to Minneapolis. Before that, Lani knew nothing else of Bruce.
Lani stopped pumping as soon as the bucket had filled. After pouring out some of the water so he could lift it, Lani carried the heavy, sloshing container back to the cabin.
Come to think of it, Lani thought suddenly, stopping a few feet from the door. Kenny hadn't even mentioned that he had a nephew until Bruce had appeared six months ago. Not even Emily had made mention of any family other than their parents.
Well, whatever the reason Kenny had for not mentioning a nephew, at least he now had someone to take care of him. From what Lani had seen of the two of them together he gathered that Bruce was taking good care of Kenny. In fact, Kenny seemed happy for the first time since before Emily had died.
Re-entering the cabin Lani saw that Kenny was alone. The older man still sat at the table that sat against the west wall of the cabin. Setting the bucket down next to the backdoor, he asked where Bruce was.
"He went to get the rest of our things." Kenny told him.
"I'll go give him a hand." Lani said, heading for the front door.
"I'll get dinner started." Kenny said, getting up from his chair.
"No, we'll do that." Lani began arguing.
"No, no, I'll do it. I'm not so feeble that I can't cook."
"I didn't mean-"Lani began, but Kenny cut him off.
"I know you didn't. Go on, I'll be fine."
With a smile Lani turned and left to help Bruce with the rest of their gear.
After dinner the three men sat laughing around the table that sat against the west wall of the cabin. Kenny and Bruce each had beers, while Father Lani indulged in the fine red wine that his companions had been thoughtful enough to bring along. Their laughter was due in part by alcohol, and in part by one of Kenny's war stories.
This particular story was about a prank Kenny and company had pulled on one of their sergeants. It had taken place after an especially dangerous advancement. During the action the company had razzed the same sergeant about his consistently foul language.
"You're kidding." Lani laughed, tears streaming down his face.
"Honestly, it was the best prank we'd been able to pull in weeks, and hoo-wee, did that boy have a dirty mouth. And he never figured out who put the shaving cream in his toothpaste. Oh, and you shoulda seen his face when the entire company ran from him screaming, 'Mad dog! Mad dog!'" Kenny finished, as he laughed at the memory.
The three men continued laughing for another few minutes until Kenny went into a coughing fit. The other two men fell silent, both showing their concern for the older man in their faces, but it was Lani who broke their silence.
"Are you sure that you're up to going fishing so early tomorrow?"
"I'll be fine young man. Besides, the fishin�s best in the early morning." Kenny said firmly.
"When Uncle Kenny has made up his mind, can't nothing stop him." Bruce chimed in.
Lani was slightly confused by Bruce's reaction. Partly due to it's levity, but mainly because he would have bet money that Bruce would have insisted that Kenny take it easy.
"You want another beer?" Bruce asked Kenny, changing the subject.
Kenny nodded, then knocked back the remainder of his first beer.
"How about you, Father? Top ya off?" Bruce asked next.
"No, thank you." Lani replied with a polite smile, then turned his attention back to Kenny. "Maybe we should turn in soon, we do have an early day tomorrow."
"Let an old man have one more beer before you put him away for the night." Kenny pleaded, and then his face became a comical puppy dog- complete with requisite whimpering. Lani had no choice but to surrender. Bruce had been right; Kenny's humor was irresistable.
"All right, one more. But then to bed we all go." Lani said with mock authority.
"Yes, Pa." Bruce and Kenny said in unison.
"Are you sure you're all right, you're looking a little pale." Lani asked more seriously.
"As well as I can be at my age?" Kenny answered.
"Uncle Kenny is being simplistic." Bruce interjected more seriously, returning with the open beverages. Handing a beer to Kenny, Bruce continued. "My Uncle's doctor told us that Kenny has Lung Cancer, inoperable."
"All the more reason you should rest." Lani argued, sipping his wine.
"Nonsense." Kenny dismissed. "Eight hours sleep won't take away my cancer. In fact, I think this fishing trip is the very thing I need."
As if on cue, Bruce held his beer bottle up, saying, "To the power and beauty of youth."
"To youth." Kenny said, joining the toast.
After a moment's hesitation, Lani joined in. "To youth."
All three drank deeply to the toast, but only one of them was unaware of it's true meaning.
�One last story, I think. Don't you think Uncle Kenny?" Bruce suggested after the toast.
"Yes, and I think I know just the one." Kenny replied.
"There's time enough tomorrow. You can tell it to me on the boat. Besides," Lani yawned, he couldn't believe the alcohol was hitting him already. Though Lani's days of all night keggers were over, he was still far from being a lightweight. "I can't seem to keep from yawning and I want to see the sunrise over the lake."
Why am I so tired all of sudden?
"Oh, but I think you'll want to hear this one, Father." Bruce said, and Lani saw something in his eyes that he remembered seeing only once before. It had been in the eyes of one of the burglers just before he'd been beaten. Lani supposed the look could've been termed as a predatory gleam, though he couldn't for the life of him think of why Bruce should have such a look in his eyes. "You see, Father, this story started a long time ago, and you're a part of it."
When Bruce paused ominously, it suddenly occured to Lani what Bruce must mean- with his words and the look on his face.
"Huh? Uh- Ooohh, I get it." Lani responded, with as wicked a smile as a priest could give. "Shouldn't we pass a candle around or something, y'know for your scaaary story?"
"No, Father." It was Kenny, now, taking up the thread of the conversation. "This is a story that could scare you in the daylight."
"Alright," Lani said through a yawn. "I'll bite, go on, scare me."
Lani must have blacked out because he didn't remember how he got on the floor- with his hands and feet bound! His vision was a little bleary but he could make out the figure of Bruce as he moved about the small cabin. As his vision cleared- and he became aware of the beginnings of a headache- Lani saw that the room was lit with about five or six candles. Lani could see that all of the candles were on the floor, and it was then he heard- for the first time- what sounded like chanting.
"Ah, the lamb awakens." Lani heard a voice say. Looking around, he saw that it had come from Bruce. Lani watched as Bruce walked toward him and sat down before the groggy priest. "Since Kenny is busy right now, I'll be the one taking up the story telling. Though, Father, I have to ask, have I set the stage right to scare you? That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
"I... Don't understand. What's going on?" Lani whispered in a papery voice.
"That's why you have to listen. Y'see, I'm not really Kenny's nephew. In fact my name isn't even Bruce Tatum, it's Archie Callahan. Kenny and me were army buddies during the war."
"But that would mean..."Lani began, not wanting to believe what he was being told.
"That would mean that I'm not as young as you thought I was." Archie said in a strangely matter-of-fact tone. "How old do you think I am, Father?"
"Kenny said that you were twenty-three, but I thought you looked a little younger." Lani heard himself say.
"Why thank you, Father, that means a lot to an old man like me." Archie said then laughed cruelly.
"You were right." Lani whispered.
"How's that, Father?"
"This is a scary story."
"Oh, but the story is just beginning. Aren't you even curious about why?"
�To youth." Lani answered, echoing the men's earlier toast- and to his own amazement, his voice was calm.
"Kenny said you were smart, though not quite as smart as he thought. He thought you'd figure it out, that we'd never get you up here. Fortunately for Kenny he was wrong- though, not so fortunate for you. Oh- here's our cue." Archie said with a perverse amount of anticipation. Standing up, Archie hauled the still drugged priest over to where the candles sat.
As Lani was dragged closer, he could make out the formation of an inverted pentagram in the center of a circle with strange symbols in between. The five candles stood at each corner of the pentagram, Kenny knelt on a cushion in the center of all of this chanting in an unfamiliar language. A sharp curved blade and a small brass bowl sat before him.
Oh, I get it. Lani thought to himself. This is a prank, some kind of sick practical joke. I gotta hand it to Kenny, he's one devious old man.
That's when Lani saw it. A small pool of blood was forming around Kenny's right leg. Looking a little harder, Lani saw that Kenny's right knee was bandaged, the blood soaking through.
"Lord in Heaven, what have you done to Kenny?" Lani asked, his voice trembling despite his efforts to keep calm. "His knee... there's blood..."
"Well, Father, allow me to explain." Archie began with a frightening zeal. "You see, for this ritual, you have to remove any, uh, additions made to your body. To show your commitment ya might say. In Kenny's case, he had to remove his prosthetic knee. It's sitting over there on the table."
Lani looked over at the table, already knowing what he would see, but still not wanting to believe. Upon the table sat was a syringe, a whiskey bottle and a gore covered object that Lani took to be Kenny's artificial knee. Looking away, Lani could feel his stomach's contents rolling sickly and a lump begin to form in his throat.
They really mean to do it, he thought as he felt tears begin to stream down his cheeks.
"The Lord is my shepard, I shall not want..." Lani began to pray.
Archie let out a snort, "Where is your God Father Lani?"
"...He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness..." Lani continued, though his voice had begun to tremble and his tears began to flow more freely.
"Where was your God in the War?" Archie mocked. "Where was he when my and Kenny's wives died slowly with cancer?"
"...I will fear no evil, for thou art with me..."
"Do you know where He was when you were beaten savagely, Father?" Archie asked viciously as he positioned Lani on his knees.
"...Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me..." Lani nearly sobbed.
Kenny continued to chant, seemingly oblivious to Archie's tormenting of Lani, as he took both the blade and the bowl into his hands.
"He was probably fucking one of those nuns that you Catholics are so proud of." Archie hissed in Lani's ear.
"...My cup runneth over..."
"In fact, He's probably doing just that, right now." Archie continued to taunt. "I wonder what it's like to get fucked by God?"
After passing the blade over the bowl three times, Kenny put the finely-honed edge to Lani's exposed throat. He then lifted the bowl and held it before Lani's chest as Archie bent Lani over it.
"....And I will dwell in the house of the Lord Forever." Lani finished, breaking down completely, his tears running down his face in rivers.
"See you in Hell, Father." Archie whispered softly into Lani's ear.
The last thing Father Lani Barkin saw before he died was the sight of his own life's blood spurting into the bowl.
Kenny shifted painfully on his knees and, giving the dead priest one last look, drank Father Lani Barkin's blood.
It took only a few minutes for the transformation to take place. After a few moments of intense pain, it was over and a much younger looking Kenneth Landry sat up.
Looking around, Kenny watched almost drunkenly as Archie blew out the candles and then threw a cover over the priest�s body. Kenny looked down to see hands that no longer knew arthritis, hands he hadn't seen since he'd come home from the war, before he'd married Emily. And his knee! His knee was completely healed!
"Come on, Kenny." Archie said as he stood over the now young Kenny, holding out his hand. "We should get some rest."
Taking his hand, Kenny stood up and gave Archie a questioning look. Upon seeing the confused look of the young man he'd met in August of 1944, Archie clarified:
"You still want to go fishin' tomorrow, don't you?"