Read Online Black Magic Woman by Justin Gustainis - Free Book Online
Authors: Justin Gustainis
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy, Contemporary, Mystery & Detective, Horror, Paranormal, Witches, Mystery Fiction, Occult fiction, Occult & Supernatural, Occultism
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"Yes, praise Him," and "It's the truth" came from various amen corners.
"Then we must believe," the Reverend Tommy Timberlake said. "We must trust in the Lord. We must have faith that the Lord sees our pain, knows our fear, understands our tribulation, and that He will deliver us from all of it if we will just ask Him to do so."
Reverend Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, like a man afflicted by a sudden migraine. He took in a sharp breath that was clearly audible over the microphone. "Is there a woman named Beatrice among us tonight? Beatrice, whose mother is so seriously ill"?
A woman off to the left suddenly screeched, "Yes, it's me! It's me!"
Reverend Tommy took a few steps in her direction. His eyes were open now, his gaze piercing. "Beatrice, your mother is ill with—is it colitis?"
"Yes, yes it is, Reverend! Oh, my Lord, yes!"
"I am in the way of knowing, Beatrice, that your mother will be healed, if only you have enough faith. Do you have faith, Beatrice? Do you love the Lord Jesus?"
"Oh, yes, Reverend Tommy! Praise His name!"
"Then if your faith is strong, if you truly believe, your dear mother will be delivered from her plight."
Reverend Tommy drew another noisy breath. "Is there a man here named Jimmy, no Jerry, from the Midwest, from, Iowa?"
It went on that way for another ten or so minutes, and then Reverend Tommy said, "Is there a woman named Madge, from New Jersey, I think it might be Patterson?"
The woman who had been speaking to Winona Timberlake jumped to her feet and began waving her hand frantically. "It's me, Reverend, over here!"
"Madge, the Lord is revealing to me that you have an illness, a cancer. That's right, isn't it?"
"Yes, Reverend, yes! Praise His name!"
"Do you believe the Lord has the power to cure your cancer, Madge?"
"Yes, I do, Reverend Tommy!"
"Can you feel his healing touch upon you even now?"
"Oh, my Lord, yes I do, I feel it now!"
"Can you sense those cancer cells shrinking, dying, disappearing from your body through the holy power of the Lord Jesus? I say, can you FEEL it?"
"Oh yes, yes, I do Reverend, YES!" Her voice was a scream now.
The Reverend Tommy looked up to heaven with puppy dog eyes of pious gratitude. "Thank you, Jesus, for healing this poor woman, thank you, Lord, thank you." Another loud intake of breath. "Is there someone with us whose son is in jail, a woman named… Nancy?"
* * * *
"And did you notice," Susan said, "the collection plate, or whatever they call it, was passed at the end, even though we had already been hit up for a donation coming in?"
Libby Chastain nodded absently. They were sitting in a coffee shop a couple of blocks away from Reverend Tommy's tabernacle.
"And you can bet your bottom drachma that the take wouldn't be nearly so much if it weren't for that spiritual dog and pony show that Reverend Tommy puts on every time," Susan went on. "I don't know why he doesn't just call himself 'The Amazing Crisco' and start working Las Vegas, except there's probably a lot more money to be made by claiming that your feats of clairvoyance are courtesy of the Lord Almighty—and, by the way, have you heard a single word I said since we got here?"
Libby looked up from her coffee cup and with a tight little smile said, "I know how he's doing it."
* * * *
A week later, the two women were back inside the converted theater, watching Winona Timberlake make her rounds among the crowd before the start of the worship service.
"Winona's the key, of course," Libby said softly. "She's the source of the information that Reverend Tommy uses for his little 'divine inspiration' act."
"But the two of them have no contact in between her chatting up the audience and the start of the service," Susan whispered. "I mean, she doesn't even leave the stage until Tommy comes out to do his thing."
"Yes, and I'm sure that's deliberate. Otherwise, even these people, who want so desperately to believe, would start to smell a rat. But there are lots of ways to
"Then we must believe," the Reverend Tommy Timberlake said. "We must trust in the Lord. We must have faith that the Lord sees our pain, knows our fear, understands our tribulation, and that He will deliver us from all of it if we will just ask Him to do so."
Reverend Tommy squeezed his eyes shut, like a man afflicted by a sudden migraine. He took in a sharp breath that was clearly audible over the microphone. "Is there a woman named Beatrice among us tonight? Beatrice, whose mother is so seriously ill"?
A woman off to the left suddenly screeched, "Yes, it's me! It's me!"
Reverend Tommy took a few steps in her direction. His eyes were open now, his gaze piercing. "Beatrice, your mother is ill with—is it colitis?"
"Yes, yes it is, Reverend! Oh, my Lord, yes!"
"I am in the way of knowing, Beatrice, that your mother will be healed, if only you have enough faith. Do you have faith, Beatrice? Do you love the Lord Jesus?"
"Oh, yes, Reverend Tommy! Praise His name!"
"Then if your faith is strong, if you truly believe, your dear mother will be delivered from her plight."
Reverend Tommy drew another noisy breath. "Is there a man here named Jimmy, no Jerry, from the Midwest, from, Iowa?"
It went on that way for another ten or so minutes, and then Reverend Tommy said, "Is there a woman named Madge, from New Jersey, I think it might be Patterson?"
The woman who had been speaking to Winona Timberlake jumped to her feet and began waving her hand frantically. "It's me, Reverend, over here!"
"Madge, the Lord is revealing to me that you have an illness, a cancer. That's right, isn't it?"
"Yes, Reverend, yes! Praise His name!"
"Do you believe the Lord has the power to cure your cancer, Madge?"
"Yes, I do, Reverend Tommy!"
"Can you feel his healing touch upon you even now?"
"Oh, my Lord, yes I do, I feel it now!"
"Can you sense those cancer cells shrinking, dying, disappearing from your body through the holy power of the Lord Jesus? I say, can you FEEL it?"
"Oh yes, yes, I do Reverend, YES!" Her voice was a scream now.
The Reverend Tommy looked up to heaven with puppy dog eyes of pious gratitude. "Thank you, Jesus, for healing this poor woman, thank you, Lord, thank you." Another loud intake of breath. "Is there someone with us whose son is in jail, a woman named… Nancy?"
* * * *
"And did you notice," Susan said, "the collection plate, or whatever they call it, was passed at the end, even though we had already been hit up for a donation coming in?"
Libby Chastain nodded absently. They were sitting in a coffee shop a couple of blocks away from Reverend Tommy's tabernacle.
"And you can bet your bottom drachma that the take wouldn't be nearly so much if it weren't for that spiritual dog and pony show that Reverend Tommy puts on every time," Susan went on. "I don't know why he doesn't just call himself 'The Amazing Crisco' and start working Las Vegas, except there's probably a lot more money to be made by claiming that your feats of clairvoyance are courtesy of the Lord Almighty—and, by the way, have you heard a single word I said since we got here?"
Libby looked up from her coffee cup and with a tight little smile said, "I know how he's doing it."
* * * *
A week later, the two women were back inside the converted theater, watching Winona Timberlake make her rounds among the crowd before the start of the worship service.
"Winona's the key, of course," Libby said softly. "She's the source of the information that Reverend Tommy uses for his little 'divine inspiration' act."
"But the two of them have no contact in between her chatting up the audience and the start of the service," Susan whispered. "I mean, she doesn't even leave the stage until Tommy comes out to do his thing."
"Yes, and I'm sure that's deliberate. Otherwise, even these people, who want so desperately to believe, would start to smell a rat. But there are lots of ways to
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