This is hell

“There is no hell, this is THE hell!”

Reverend Reginald McLean swung his arms up and out, trying to encompass the whole world.  His eyes showed too much white, a manic look that passed over the crowd, resting occasionally on some individuals. Then he stopped at me, I guessed he paid special attention to those of us that were non-believers. His sermon continued.

“We are the damned! This life is the hell, this is our purgatory and we must make amends!”

“Amen!”

The crowd responded enthusiastically and I could see others like myself just glancing round at them, before they too started clapping and shouting amen. The sound was deafening, at least a thousand people chanting amen, clapping and stomping their feet. The good Rev McLean was spinning round and round on stage, arms spread wide whilst stomping one foot along with the clapping. The mike was clutched in one pudgy hand and his beard trailed down to his belly which protruded over his trousers, obviously he was enjoying purgatory. I was shocked to see him, over 60 he was not the man I had been expecting. From the stories I had heard about his womanising I had expected a somewhat good looking man, charming in his own way. Reverend Reginald McLean was far from charming, he was an insane believer who’s crazy eyes made me certain he did not live on the same hemisphere as myself, I couldn’t speak for the rest of the crowd. I looked round at them, they had worked up in to a frenzy now, nearly all of them on their feet and spinning round and round like the good old Reverend, the stomping was thunderous and I could feel the headache beginning. What was I doing here?

I knew why I was here, Mary was the why. I looked at her now, sitting next to me.  She was smiling, the same soft smile I had fell in love with, the same light behind those big brown eyes. They didn’t look crazy or manic at all, yet she was clapping along with everyone, nodding her head vigorously. I thought that if she had the energy she would be standing up and spinning like the rest of the loons here. Thankfully she didn’t, I’m not sure I would have been able to take that. I understood, somewhat, Mary was sick, very sick. The cancer had spread to her brain and she had only weeks to live. I couldn’t bear to think about living the rest of my life without her, so here I was watching the manic Reverend McLean dance round like someone had shoved a rocket up his arse, I didn’t think this man had healing hands. Mary believed he did. 

I watched my wife’s smiling face and couldn’t remember the last time she had looked so hopeful. My stomach clenched, I felt bad, sure that I should not be letting Mary build up hope. It had been so easy letting her believe, seeing her smile and laugh again and taking an interest in life. She had been coming here for a month now and was just waiting her turn to be healed. Convinced it was tonight she had persuaded me to come along, grudgingly I had agreed when I saw the smile light up her eyes. Asking around town about the Reverend I was not impressed with what I heard.  There was some whispering amongst the town folks that he had been head of a some cult in America, no-one seemed to know the full story or what had happened, but it was thought a family crisis had brought the Reverend to our little town in the north of Scotland. After only a few weeks here he had set up a tent at the back of his property and started preaching. He had been here three months now and people travelled from as far as Edinburgh and Glasgow up here to be healed, the news of his healing powers spread far and wide very fast.
Finally the racket stopped and silence descended, every pair of eyes was on Reverend McLean, waiting expectantly.  Mary sat glued to the spot, a look of such hope that my jaw clenched, I wanted to pick her fragile body up in my arms and carry her away from here, before more damage could be done. I knew she would hate me though, I should have stopped all this nonsense sooner. Now I would have to wait it out and then pick up the pieces afterwards. I too stared at Reginald, I now couldn’t bring myself to think of him as Reverend, I knew what was about to come and was appalled that this man was brain washing all these good folk. I thought maybe they just needed something to believe in, times were tough and this gave them hope.

Reginald stared out over the assembled audience, his gaze taking in every face. He tugged his trousers up and his belly jiggled, with his beard he would make a great Santa Claus I thought absently. A young woman came out, very pretty, long brown hair gleamed under the artificial light and she reached out a small pale hand and took the mike from Reginald. I was shocked when I saw her blue eyes, I could imagine that they were probably once bright, now all misted over, too much white showing. She stared in awe at Reginald and backed away slowly off the stage without taking her eyes off him.

Reginald suddenly bent over double, a cry of pain escaping him. Every devoted follower gasped and leant forward on their chairs in expectation. I leaned back looking at them all, the word cult repeated itself over and over in my head. Then Reginald was rushing into the audience, placing his hands on peoples shoulders then swiftly moving on to the next person, his eyes closed his face pinched in pain. He made his way further in to the crowd, coming our way, I felt Mary grip my arm tightly, the strongest I had felt her in a year. His eyes were fixed on Mary now and he headed straight towards us, no longer touching anyone’s shoulders. As he reached out and took Mary’s hand off my arm I wanted to scream out and drag her away from him. I let him guide her up to the stage, the pretty brown haired girl appeared again placing a chair in the centre of the stage. And helped Mary to sit down. Reginald still gripped Mary’s hands tightly as he knelt in front of her, eyes closed he rocked back and forth on his heels, in the sudden silence you could hear his knees creaking.

A great wailing issued from him, he started to shake violently, spit lining the corners of his mouth. His eyes flashed open and rolled back into his head, the brown haired girl was at his side in an instant, hanky in hand she carefully mopped up the sweat on his brow. My Mary was shaking as well now, I stood up wanting to rush forward, make sure she was ok. From behind me hands came down on my shoulders, holding me in place. All I could do was stare and my voice seemed to have disappeared. Mary’s head lolled back, her eyes closed, I could see her chest rising and falling, way too fast I thought. She jerked suddenly and I tried to break out of the hands that held me, my God she was having some kind of fit. I wanted to wrap my hands around Reginald’s throat and squeeze the life out of him. 

Abruptly Mary sat up, completely straight she turned her big brown eyes directly on me and smiled the most angelic smile I have ever seen in my life. I held my arms out for her, relief sweeping through me, she was alive.  Hesitantly she made her own way from the stage, no-one came forward to help her and I watched as she swayed slightly, then she was running at me, the crowd parted to let her through. Everyone started clapping and cheering. A miracle people screamed, I just wanted to hold her in my arms, tell her I was sorry.

Reginald was sitting in the chair on stage now, his slack face an awful off white colour. Breathlessly he murmured a thank you into the mike the brown haired girl now held before him. Then she was helping him up, out the chair and off the stage.  The crowd was milling around me and Mary, all wanting to touch her, asking how she felt. 
“Wonderful, I feel wonderful.  I haven’t run like that in years!”

My Mary was laughing, I couldn’t quite believe it. She glowed, her cheeks dashed red, her grey hair standing on end like she had received an electric shock. I bundled her in my arms, dragging her away. I just wanted to get her home, knew that this little event would maybe be what killed her. She would be very sick tonight, the guilt built up again and I lay kisses on her forehead as she smiled up at me. The crowd let us through, now talking amongst themselves about the miracle. Tears filled my eyes and I knew I would pay dearly for what had happened. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how Mary would feel later, when she realised.

Within a few minutes we were in the car and heading home, Mary just looked at me the same small smile tugging at her mouth. I knew she wanted to say I told you, she remained silent though, content to just sit with me. I’m sure she thought we had plenty of time and that I would need time to accept everything that happened. She knew I doubted this man, it was in her eyes, I could see that she was a true believer now. 

“I have a doctors’ appointment tomorrow morning, you’ll see then Tom.  We can talk after that.”

I nodded, afraid to speak, afraid to take that smile from her face. Yes we would talk after the doctors’ appointment, I felt relieved that I would have some time before having to deal, I felt ashamed, I was the worst kind of coward.

I didn’t sleep well that night, tossing and turning. Nightmarish images of Mary drawn and haggard in a hospital bed, hooked up to tubes and monitors haunted me. Mary slept peacefully beside me and I did not want to disturb her. The doctor’s appointment was first thing in the morning, it broke my heart that she had booked it in advance for after the meeting last night.

We didn’t say much at breakfast, Mary was still glowing and moving around the kitchen so freely, no pain etched on her face at all.  I wondered how long it would last, if this was the calm before the storm.  Mary cooked me a full English breakfast for the first time in years, watching her smile and bustling around the kitchen made my heart soar, just like old times.

After we came back from the Doctors I sat on the patio, enjoying the feel of the sun on my worn face.  I could hear Mary in the kitchen humming along to some tune on the radio.  I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face, the Doctors lock of pure shock still painted across my eyes.  Then there were the words that replayed over and over in my head ’There is no sign of the cancer, Mr Gordon.  I can’t explain it, I ran test after test, it’s all gone Mr Gordon.’ The doctor could only shake his head over and over, Mary had wrapped her arms around him and planted a sweet kiss on my cheek, the sweetest kiss I had ever known. 

Mary sat down beside me, handing me a glass of freshly made lemonade. I smiled at her, feeling my tired old face crinkle at the corners. Mary returned my smile and took my hand.  We sat in silence staring out across the fields, daffodils grew in the fields, glowing in the sunlight.

“Will you come to the meeting tomorrow night?”

I glanced into Mary’s wide questioning eyes, I was sure she was waiting for me to freak out as the kids say.

“Yes, I’ll come.”