Read Online The Indestructible Man by William Jablonsky - Free Book Online

drive up to Joe’s to offer what aid we can.
     
            When we get there I’m almost afraid to look at the house, expecting shattered windows, the awning fallen onto the front porch, the siding scorched. But the place looks about the same as always—there’s some dust caked on the windows, the white paint is a little chipped, and the yard has a few dandelions, but all the walls are still up. The quiet is eerie, and it takes us a minute to work up the nerve to go to the door.
     
            Looking in through the dusty screen I see no sign of heavenly struggle; either the devil’s been driven away or the battle’s hit a lull. Brother Stewart is sitting with Minnie on the old plaid couch, his arm around her, running his hand through her hair. Her face is buried in his black jacket, but she seems unafraid.
     
    Sam rings the doorbell; Brother Stewart sits up in surprise, lets go of Minnie, and rises to his full height, a good five inches taller than any of us. He looms in the doorway, a great black specter, his long jacket hanging off his shoulders like a cloak. He stares at us for a minute, trying to guess our intentions. We stare back, afraid he might turn his righteous power on us.
     
    I finally speak up. “We heard about Joe. We want to help.”
     
    After that he seems to loosen up. An exorcism is a pretty serious affair, I suppose, and not an easy thing to do alone. He smiles and opens the screen door. “Good of you to come, boys,” he says, his face still pale and somber.
     
    “Anything for Joe,” I say.
     
    We hear some rustling and moaning from the master bedroom, like somebody trying to move a bed or a heavy dresser across the floor. Sam’s whole body quivers when he hears it. Brother Stewart glances at the closed door, then back at us. “That’d be Joe,” he says. The floorboards are vibrating under my feet, and I start to get nervous, because I’m not sure what we’ve stepped into.
     
    We head for the bedroom, but Brother Stewart stops us; he says none of us have ever seen someone with the devil in him, and we need to know what to expect. He warns us that the creature in there looks and talks just like Joe, and it might beg us to let it go. But that’s just the demon playing on our friendship with Joe to set it loose, a cruel and underhanded thing to do.
     
    Brother Stewart tells Sam to comfort Minnie while we go in. Sam, always the ladies’ man, holds her hand and tells her not to look. “It’ll be all right, Minnie,” he says.
     
    The door groans as Brother Stewart opens it. Even before we file in, the smell of piss and puke hits—not so different from Diamond Mike’s around happy hour, but in Joe’s house it seems wrong. The blinds are closed, and we have to step over piles of dirty, ripped clothes when we go through the door.
     
    Joe is spread-eagled on the bed in old jeans stained with what looks like motor oil and grape jelly—I don’t want to get close enough to see for sure. He’s breathing heavy, looks like he hasn’t shaved in about a week, and his left eye and part of his forehead are covered with a big yellow bruise; Brother Stewart must’ve had to put him down hard. He lifts his head an inch or two off the pillow, and when he sees us his eyes open wide. At first I hardly recognize him—he looks more like a horror-film zombie than the Joe I know. He moans and tries to talk, but he’s gagged with one of Minnie’s scarves. Brother Stewart says it’s just a precaution; the devil has a silver tongue and can talk himself out of just about any bind. Not only that, but Joe’s been speaking in strange tongues all morning. None of us are curious enough to hear that.
     
    Brother Stewart was right about the devil being a deceiver; Joe stares at me like he knows me, nodding for me to untie him. He looks around at everyone else and starts jerking his arms, trying to break his ties. I’m not scared of much, but I jump back in a hurry. Brother Stewart does too,