School of the Exorsists
an excerpt

Billy Fontenot’s heart leaped into his throat as he climbed out of the cab.
He stood on the circular drive of the huge Victorian style home complete with gingerbread trim, and gables that, like pyramids, pointed to the crystal blue sky.
“Kid!” barked the cabbie as he hauled Billy’s bags out of the trunk. “Your stuff!”
“Uh, yeah, okay,” Billy stammered. He moved his bags onto the sidewalk and tugged his wallet.
“Naw,” The cabbie said. “It’s taken care of. Gratuity, everything. Someone must want you to go to school here pretty bad.” The man read the sign above the entry way. “‘School of the Exorcists.’ Yeah, right. Kid, they either love you or they want to kill you. Good luck.”
Billy gulped as the cab pulled away. He looked around. The big house was planted on top of a grassy hill surrounded by a forest. On the way out here that was all Billy saw for miles: great swelling hills and trees. He leaned over, grabbed his bags and headed up the steps.
Yeah, this is going to be some senior year.
Inside, a man sat behind the reception desk. His black hair was thinned almost to his skull, and he wore the kind of black, plastic glasses that practically beg for a fake nose to be attached. But he smiled and his eyes were alert and friendly.
“Ah, you must be Mr. Fontenot! At last!” the man rose and extended a hand. “Welcome to Wisconsin! I’m Mr. Pritchard. This is a small school so I serve as Chief Administrator and whatever else needs to be done.”
“Uh, hi, Mr. Pritchard. Glad to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine. I’ve heard of your family off and on for years. I think your coming here was a very wise choice.”
“I hope so,” Billy muttered.
“Well, just leave your things here and I will get them upstairs because the rest of the students are already in the dining room. It’s lunchtime in the rest of America, but in Wisconsin we call it ‘dinner.’”
“Umm, sure.”
“Just through those doors then, son,” Mr. Pritchard said, gesturing to a set of heavy, oak double doors.
“Uh, thanks…”
Billy walked into the dining room and felt nervous, but better. The dining room was spacious with huge windows off to his right that overlooked a garden full of flowers and lush green trees. His eye caught sight of an apple growing on one of them. An apple tree; he’d never seen one before.
Four round tables were set for lunch…
uh dinner… he reminded himself.
Two of them had settings for eight; one for five. The table for five had a place that was still empty. On one side of the empty spot sat a guy dressed completely in black with safety pins for earrings and on the other side, a little girl with white blonde hair and big, black glasses. He could see a tiny card in front of the empty plate with his name on it.
Yeah, the late guy was here…
There was a fourth table at the front of the room where a few adults were sitting. A small buffet was set up by the back, dark wood wall.
“Hi,” A girl from ‘his table’ walked over to him. “I’m Melinda. Mrs. Widdersham said to just catch you up when you got here. The foods pretty good. Grab yourself a plate.”
“Uh sure.”
Melinda had long, thick, brown hair and large brown eyes. He thought she might even be Cajun like himself. “Well, show me what’s good,” he said, smiling. “Where you from?”
“South Dakota,” she said and rolling her eyes added. “And yes, I’ve got ‘injuns’ in my family. Lot’s of them.”
Billy had to think about it for a moment. “Oh, yeah! Lot’s of Native of Americans up there, or is that more like sideways from here?”
Melinda laughed, “Oh, sort of sideways and down. My parents really finagled with Indian Affairs to get me a grant so I could come here. ‘Hope it’s worth it. How about you?”
“I’m from New Orleans…”
Melinda’s eye’s widened. “I thought you were that Billy Fontenot. Oh, let’s get your food…you’ve got tell your story to our table!”
Melinda loaded him up with mashed potatoes, fried chicken, peas and a tall glass of iced tea and began to hurry him to his seat. Then she paused.
“Oh, wait," Melinda said in a low voice. “I’m sorry. That was really rude. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”
Billy smiled. True, he didn’t really like being from what all the T. V. Talk shows called, “America’s Most Possessed Family,” and knowing most people were sizing him up for a strait jacket of his own some day. But when folks were at least considerate, it helped.
“No, don’t worry about it,” he said. “C’mon, I’m starved.”
They returned to their seats and as Billy sat down he gave a nod and said, “Hey.”
The Goth guy took a bite of chicken and with a mouth stuffed full muttered, “Dude.”
The little blonde girl looked at him and smiled. “Hi, I’m Janice Freedman.”
Billy thought Janice had a direct way of speaking, like someone who was very organized or worked in a bank, he couldn’t decide which.
Across from him sat a black kid who reminded him of his first cousin Tyrone. Tyrone was one of his best friends. But twenty-four hours before Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans, Tyrone’s father decided the weather men didn’t know what they were talking and that the storm would blow by. Billy’s family evacuated. He never saw Tyrone again.
The black kid scrunched up his face. “Hey, mon, why you peerin’ at me? You never saw a black man before?” The kid’s voice was distinctly Jamaican.
Billy snapped out of it. “Sorry man. Didn’t mean to stare. You look just like my first cousin.” Then noting some of the double-takes around the table, added, with a grin, “Yeah, I’m just a freakin’ Oreo. I’m a ‘Cajun.’ Some people say in Creole that means ‘one of everything.’”
Goth kid snickered, “So then in Creole does ‘Oreo’ mean white man that can actually dance?”
They all laughed and Billy began to devour his lunch.
“Dude,” Goth said. “You’re from that super possessed family, right?”
Billy nodded. “Yeah.”
Goth ventured further. “So, like everyone in your family has been coming under the Darkness in a big way. Cool.”
Billy bit inside of his lip before he spoke. “Yeah? Be the only kid in your High School to have the guys in white jackets constantly at your door and see how cool it is.”
He continued, not bothering to hide his bitterness. “Last month, mom made the national news. Did you see it? Her body levitated off the ground in a shopping mall and she began screaming curses in seven different languages.”
“I heard about that,” Melinda said, wide-eyed.
“The press calls us possessed but to them it’s joke. One guy even asked me…” Billy stopped. He wasn’t going to repeat what the reporter said, but he could still hear the jerk’s voice.
So kid, you sure this isn’t just a bad case of PMS? Does your mom ever do things just to get attention?
“Forget what he said,” Billy grumbled. “Everyone feels sorry for us, but like, no one will give my Dad a job because they’re afraid he’ll freak out, too. That’s the only reason we’ve gone on those stupid talk shows, is because we’re freaking broke. Then some guy wrote my Dad and said he’d sponsor me to come to this school. We don’t even know who the guy is, but that’s how I got here.”
The black kid leaned forward. “Listen, bie, your family sounds like they’ve come under a powerful curse, the kind of thing only God himself can save you from. I’m Thaddeus Johnson. I’m from Kingston and last year I lost a very dear friend to voodoo and I’ll be damned if I’m losing anymore. That’s what I’m doing here.” Thaddeus looked around. “What about the rest of you?”
The girl with the white blonde hair straightened herself and said, “Well, I’m the youngest member in the history of Florida’s Mutual UFO Network. We’ve documented well over a thousand cases of Alien possession in Florida residents. So I’m here to see if there are any correlations between demonic activity and UFO’s.”
“Alien possession in Florida?” Goth kid said. “Tat explains a lot. So, we got the Ragin’ Cajun, Cool Runnin’s over there, ET, and you might as well call me Gothika or Cedric, whichever works. I’m here because I don’t fear the reaper. I’m from Chicago. And what about you?” he said turning to Melinda. “We ought to call you ‘Pocahontas, right?”
“You better call me Melinda,” She said with an indignant toss of her head. “And yeah, my family is part ‘’Sioux, part Scotch-Irish. I’m here because my grandfather always said I need to know the spirit world from both sides of my heritage. I’m Christian; I’m here to learn.”
“Well,” Cedric said keeping his voice low. “I think we’re sitting according to spiritual depth or lack thereof. At that first table, I found out earlier everyone there is a preacher’s kid and the other table is handling average, good old Bible students…and then there’s us, the freaks!” he smiled. “I knew I liked this table.”

The sound of a small hand bell being rung brought an end to conversation. Billy watched as a middle-aged lady from the head table rose and stepped forward. The woman had red-hair shot with gray and wore a very proper navy blue, skirted suit.
“Did you enjoy your meal, students?” she inquired.
There were murmurs of affirmation and Cedric said in a matter-of-fact tone, “It didn’t fight back.”
The woman smiled, “Always a cause for thanks. If you enjoy eating, be sure and thank Mr. and Mrs. Pritchard who are our kitchen staff right now. For those who have no idea who I am or where you are, may I be the first to welcome you back to consciousness. I am Ruth Widdersham and this is the School of the Exorcists.”
Billy blinked. So this was Ruth Widdersham. He had read articles, read about the school, even works Mrs. Widdersham had written, but could never recall seeing a picture of her. From the way she wrote about the Bible and the spiritual battle, he expected someone seven feet tall. But he supposed someone with the face of a cookie baking grandma was just as well. He liked cookies.
“Today we will primarily be settling in and gearing up for your first classes tomorrow. This is your senior year and you will still be expected to finish your course of study. The difference is that here we there will be a concentration on the practical application of Biblical studies.”
A number of kids shot knowing glances around the room.
“Yes, yes, we’re all excited about exploring the darker sides of spirituality, and no doubt the media will show up and begin calling us the ‘American Hogwarts’ again. But I must remind you there is a huge difference between what we do here and the things you may or may not have read in the Harry Potter books…”
The room grew quiet. Billy could feel himself leaning forward.
“What happens here,” Mrs. Widdersham explained, her voice low, “is real. There are principalities and powers that would love to have any of you dead at any given time. So our first rule above all is ‘Ask God.’ Think before you act. We can avoid the destructive nature of the secondary powers if we learn and listen to the voice of the Primary. If you ever find you are having a problem with anything you see here, please speak to me. It is a difficult ministry and there is no shame in asking for help or deciding this is not the place for you. I’m quite serious in this.”
“Now, on a lighter note," Mrs. Widdersham said, allowing the tips of her fingers to touch like a pyramid. "I would like to assign a chain of leadership. Altogether we have twenty-one students. By your applications we have placed you in fellowships according to interests and backgrounds. Our school was originally a very fashionable hotel back in the day and each fellowship will be allowed their own wing. We will expect you to give yourselves a name and of course, keep your area tidy. Since this was a very busy hotel, once upon a time, keep your eyes open. Our first order of business may very well be to finish cleaning this place out. And I don't mean dusting. But in the mean time, be careful. As I said, you will each have a leader whose responsibility it will be to over see his or her wing, lead morning and evening prayers and keep the floor stewards advised of any problems. And there will be one student assigned to over see the fellowship co-coordinators, a student pastor to the pastors, so-to speak."
Billy glanced over at the table full of PK's to one All-American looking guy, complete with broad shoulders and blonde hair. Yeah, he's was probably going to be the leader, Billy thought.
At this point, Mrs. Widdersham introduced a handsome young couple, Marc and Marion Daniel as the floor stewards, then the rest of the faculty he were also at the table.
“And now, we don’t have anything as fantastic as a sorting hat, but we did ask God and these are the people we think should stand as the first leaders of this school. From the first table,” she said stepping over to the preacher’s kids, “we would like Dennis Harper to be a fellowship coordinator. Dennis, do you accept this post?”
The all-America rose as if he were answering a call from Jesus himself. “Yes, ma’am. I do.”
“Very good,” she said and walked to Billy's table. “Here I would like to ask Thaddeus Johnson to accept the post.”
Thaddeus rose and bowed. “I am honored.”
“Excellent.”
Thaddeus settled back into his chair as Cedric paid him a pat on the back and Thaddeus whispered, “Respect, mon.”
Mrs. Widdersham went on to the third table. “We took our time with this group. There are many bright and promising leaders among you, and yet the youngest girl kept coming to mind. Saundra Follet, please stand.”
Billy saw a little dark haired girl with huge eyes and glasses to match slowly rise as if she weren’t used to having so much attention.
“Saundra, do you accept this position?”
Little Saundra seemed to catch her breath. “I, uh, yes, yes, of course.”
Suddenly, Billy felt his attention rivet on one reference book carrying guy he had only glanced at earlier. The guy was wiping his black-horned rim glasses. After placing them back on his nose, he picked up his cell phone, and proceeded to casually hold it as if filming the after lunch speech. It was nothing frightening or alarming: he might have done the same thing...if he had a cell phone. But still, Billy's eyes stayed zoomed in and his heart began to race.
He knew the feeling a little too well; something bad was going to happen.
The guys head flew back so hard and fast Billy was afraid it would snap off and a bellow left his mouth that was so deep and huge it shook the walls.
"NOOO!"
Billy was on his feet. Running on pure instinct, he raced to the guy shrieking, "Name it! Name yourself!"
For a moment, the room became deathly silent. Billy was panting, sweat trickled down his forehead and the eyes of everyone in the dining room were on the two of them.
The guy stared up at him, eyes bright and mocking. He sat up and laughed, "Oh, man!" he said as he slapped knee. "I know I'm gonna be shown the door now, but this was so worth it!"
He rose and as he swiped a hand down each sleeve of the brown cardigan he wore Billy thought he must have stood at least six foot five.
Flinging his arms dramatically to either side, the guy cried out, "YOU STUPID FUNDIES! GOD, HOW I HATE YOU!" He yanked a voice recorder and held up his cell phone. "All I had to do was fill in a bogus application, write a bad check, shave extra close and now here I am with a story the tabloids are gonna love!"
He gave Mrs. Widdersham a smarmy grin and wave. "Thanks for making my day. Especially this guy." The man jabbed a thumb behind him at Billy before glaring over his shoulder. "What's the matter kid? Scared I got the devil in me?"
For a second, Billy caught his breath. There was something here...
Billy stood his ground and said, calmly, "Name yourself."
The man turned around to face him and chuckled, "Dave Hodges, at your service. Oh wait, you want me to say something like ‘Lust,’ or ‘Confusion,’ or ...how's this work? Hate, yeah, that's a good emotionally charged word, I'll be Hate..."
"Mr. Hodges!" commanded Mrs. Widdersham. "You will-"
"Hate! Yeah! Grrr!" Hodges lunged at Billy with gritted teeth. "Yeah, I'll be Hate because I hate, hate, HATE you stupid, mother-HAAATE!" Hodges was beet-red and roaring now, his fists balled as if he were about to throw a punch.
Billy didn't look away. He took another breath and remembered his father calling out the last time they faced the demons. He had cried a single name that saved their lives.
"IN THE NAME OF JESUS CHRIST, COME OUT!"
Dave Hodges slammed both hands over his ears and screamed, "NOOOO! HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!!"
Billy cried, "Leave, Hatred! Leave now!"
The calm returned. Hodges let his arms drop to his sides and the smile played across his face.
"How long you gonna do this, kid? Cuz I'll mess with you all night...night..."
The crimson returned to his face and this time, Mr. Hodges was flung to the floor by an unseen hand. His mouth began to froth and strange, disgusting gurgling sounds issued from deep in his throat.
Mrs. Widdersham stepped forward, leaned over the convulsing body and in a low, but deliberate voice, commanded, "In the name of my Lord Christ, come out of him NOW! Lord, give this man peace."
Instantly, Hodges lay still.
Mrs. Widdersham straightened. "Marc," she said. "Please call an ambulance and the police. When Mr. Hodges recovers from his seizure, I would like him charged for trespassing and fraud. The man is perfectly fine. He just won't be getting up for awhile. But if you and Mr. Pritchard could see to him, that would be wonderful."
Billy nodded and swiped a hand across his own brow. He noticed Hodges had accidentally hurled his cell phone and recorder half way across the room. Billy collected both and before slipping them back into Hodges pockets, deleted all pictures and audio. He didn't like people taking his picture without permission.
The other students still looked very wide-eyed as he headed back to his chair. "As I said," Mrs. Widdersham said like nothing had happened. "Be careful. Finally, I would like to announce the student we have chosen to look after, not only the other fellowship leaders in particular, but to stay alert to the rest of our student body. Mr. Billy Fontenot. Do you accept this position?"
Billy felt panicked. He was used to having people laugh at him, not handing him responsibilities.
He peered at her. "You sure?"
Mrs. Widdersham smiled gently, "I'm quite sure."
Billy glanced around and shrugged, "Uh, alright. I'll do my best."
"That's all we can ask." Mrs. Widdersham clapped her hands. "Now, this mealtime has all been very dramatic…"
Cedric gasped, "It was cool!"
"Indeed. But this incident means we, the staff, must deal with the authorities. So I am shooing you out for now. Today, settle in and by all means get better acquainted. Feel free to look around; this is the Wisconsin Dells after all and it is extremely beautiful. There will be a cold supper at six tonight. Tomorrow breakfast is at seven and classes begin promptly at eight. Let us pray and then you will be dismissed."
The group bowed their heads and Mrs. Widdersham prayed. As they filed out in search of their room assignments, some of the students made comments to him like, "That was too cool!" And, "How did you DO that?"
Cedric caught up to him and with a friendly whack on the back said, "So what do ya think, my freaky brother."
"About what?"
"Feels like home here, doesn’t it?”
Billy hadn't thought about it, but now that he did, the thought made him smile. His life had always seemed so dark and terrible, but maybe it was one of those jobs that just needed doing. As he and Cedric thundered up the stairs, the thought played in his head over and over...Maybe it's going to be okay. God, make it be okay...

****

The next morning, Billy Fontenot opened his eyes. Half-asleep, he thought he was back in the one room apartment he shared with his dad.
But this wasn’t the living room couch.
A sound followed him into his dreams; it was a shrill noise like a bunch of little girls having a shrieking match.
He blinked. The sound still clattered on.
“Oh, no,” he groaned sitting up. He was in his new bedroom, top bunk, with Cedric down below. Vaguely he heard the sounds of Thaddeus’s snores on the other side of the room’s adjoining door.
“Yeah, mon,” Thaddeus said the night before, “yer gonna thank Almighty God you gave me me own room if you ever hear me snore.”
Listening to the racket, it was hard to deny he had a point.
The room consisted of the bunk beds, two desks with lamps, two aged, mis-matched dressers someone had apparently picked out at a thrift shop and painted dark brown. There was a window opened at half-mast. The squawking flowed from there.
Billy crawled to the end of his bed and lifted the curtain. Birds surrounded outdoor feeders and splashed in a large, stone bird bath out on lawn so green and rich it looked more like a blanket than grass.
Billy realized he saw the bird bath on the way in, but hadn’t given it a second thought. Now ignoring it was impossible.
“Holy crap!” he muttered. “Where’d all the freaking birds come from?”
He couldn’t remember ever seeing so many. Sparrows, finches, bossy Blue Jays and a few he couldn’t recognize, jockeyed for position around the food and bath facilities.
From below, he could hear Cedric stir.
“What’s wrong, Cajun dude?” he said with a yawn. “Don’t you have birds in Nude Awwwwlins?”
“Yeah, but, jeesh…it’s like a freakin’ Disney movie. Like, do they carry in a little dress for Cinderella now or what?”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m not gay enough to watch Cinderella.”
“Shut-up.”
“Hey, let’s get dressed and do the Morning Prayer thing with everyone. I gotta see what the local news said about us. Or about you.”
Billy sighed. “Yeah, yesterday was weird.”
It was like old home week for him. The reporters insisted on speaking with him then began making accusations that Mrs. Widdersham was holding Billy against his will when she informed them she did not want the students bothered. But Billy knew how this would go. One word after another would be twisted and garnished until Mrs. Widdersham could be made to look like a potential Jeffery Dahmer.
They made a nuisance on the front lawn and Billy kept hearing his name come up so he went downstairs and told Mrs. Widdersham he thought he could get them to leave.
“Billy, they’re being ridiculous, you know that and so do I.”
“I know,” he said staring at the ground, “but, let me help out, okay?”
Mrs. Widdersham smiled and stepped out of his way. “Why, you are an old fashioned, southern gentlemen, aren’t you?”
Billy shrugged. “Uh, I guess.”
“I’ve seen your work and therefore, I pity the fools.”
He grinned as he walked out the door, not that he was happy to see the small group of camera carrying reporters, but because it was so weird to hear Mrs. Widdersham quote Mr.T.
“Billy! Billy! Over hear!”
A camera flashed in his face.
“Billy! Are you hearing voices again? Are you on medication?”
“Does your mother know you’re here?”
“How did you get money to come here?”
“Have you heard from your mother?”
“Did you really hear voices around the man who collapsed here?”
“Did you see the devil?”
Billy looked the reporter in the eye. “I’m in school here. Some reporter lied his way in and had a seizure. I’ve got classes tomorrow and it’s almost time for din- I mean, ‘supper.’ So, I’m sorry the man is sick, but I’m also sorry he lied so much.”
He watched how the tiny group stared at him with hungry eyes. “I have a question for you guys. Are reporters supposed to lie like that? Cause I know, my father and I had to send in a lot of documentation just prove I am who I say I am so I could come here. This guy would have to be a liar, a forger and have people in on what he was doing to get through the door. Is that how the rest of you work?”
One girl took the bait.
“Now, Mr. Fontenot,” the blonde haired lady with the ruby lipstick said in a reasonable tone, “people have the right to hear the truth. It’s just that some people will go to extreme lengths to make sure the public is informed.”
“So under the right circumstances,” Billy said, “you don’t mind forgery. You’ll put up with lying as long as it suits your purpose.” Billy reached up, scratched his head and reminded himself to count and see how long it would take for them to scatter. “You also said people have a right to hear the Truth. I agree with that. Here’s the truth: Jesus Christ died for your sins and He’s willing to accept you as one of His own if you just confess your sins and come to Him.”
“Great.” The blonde girl rolled her eyes and waved off her camera man, “We’ve got enough.”
“No!” Billy said. 1-2-3-4… “The Bible is the Word of God and it means exactly what it says. Like in Psalms it says, “…the fool hath said in his heart, there is no God…”
“I didn’t come here for a debate,” another one grumbled as he turned to leave.
“Can’t we stick to the issue?”
“The issue is Truth,” Billy planted his feet firmly. “The man that broke in here considered the Truth to be worthless and you guys are saying that’s just fine. Sorry, but I don’t see Jesus excusing that kind of sin.”
One of the remaining reporters, a man with sharp, green eyes, demanded, “You’re saying reporting the news is sin!”
“No, I’m saying lying is a sin. I’ll be happy to give a real interview to anyone who knows the difference. Ya’ll lemme know, okay?”
With that, he turned and walked away.
Once inside, the students cheered. Mrs. Widdersham covered her mouth to keep from laughing out right. “Why, Mr. Fontenot, you’re losing your touch. That must have taken you a full five minutes.”
Billy grinned.
Despite all the reporters at the school, there weren’t any stories on the evening or late night news. He wondered if they were going to completely ignore the episode or if they were waiting for something.
Cedric climbed out of bed and stretched. His sweatpants hung on well-muscled hips. Last night he bragged about all the working out he did and while Billy didn’t really check out guys, it was plain Cedric wasn’t bragging at all.
Cedric immediately turned around. “You aren’t checking out my butt are you?”
“Well, you never know,” Billy suddenly lisped, “after all, I have theeen Thinderella.”
“Yeah? I’m keepin’ my distance.”
Billy hopped down from his bed feeling more aware of his skinny physique than usual.
Cedric grabbed his upper arm. “Look at this. We’re gonna muscle you up this year, don’t worry about it. You need eggs.”
“Uh, okay.”
After opening the inner door and calling, “Thaddeus, wake up,” Billy pulled on a black t-shirt and tugged a pair of blue jeans up over his boxers. He used the bathroom in their wing, combed his hair and brushed his teeth.
He liked this bathroom, it as kind of old fashioned with goose neck faucets and a tub with feet for bathing with its own privacy curtain dangling from the ceiling. But he was also glad to see regular showers against the far wall. Sitting undressed in a tub full of water would make him way too easy a target for anyone in his group to nail him in a practical joke.
There was the sound of footsteps and he half expected Cedric or Thaddeus to come barging in, except he noticed the sound wasn’t from the hallway, but over head. He could tell the place had an attic, probably stuffed full of old junk. But who would be up there?
The footsteps stopped.
Billy shrugged. It was probably one of the staff.

In the hallway the girls joined him. Janice wore a camp shirt and jeans, her blonde hair tied neatly back. Melinda’s long black hair hung down to her waist. She wore a black t-shirt with a brown leather vest. She looked up at him, smiled and suddenly Billy felt his heart beat just a little bit faster.
“Hey, it’s our campus hero,” she said.
Billy reddened. “Nah, jeez, I just have a lot of practice yelling at reporters. They’re so predictable you could almost set your watch by them.”
“That’s what I thought.” They all turned the direction of this new comment and saw Dennis Harper heading for the main staircase.
“You know, my dad heads a 5,000 member congregation and I’ve been allowed to preach before them sometimes. I asked to speak to the reporters, but I wasn’t allowed. I could have done just what you did. Any Christian could have.”
Puzzled by his attitude, Billy shrugged. “Sure. It wasn’t that big of a deal. I bet y’all would have done fine.”
Dennis nodded. “Thank you.”
With that, Dennis turned and thundered down the stairs.
Melinda’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, wow,” she said keeping her voice low. “Somebody’s got issues!”
“Agreed,” whispered Janice.
“Hey, good mawnin’, fine people!” Thaddeus called as he strolled out of his room. “Did I ever sleep good, mon! That was great!”
Cedric rushed out of their room and almost ran into him. “Good, everybody’s up!”
“As your fearless leader,” Thaddeus said, “I say we pray right here then get us some food.”
Brightened by his cheerful manner, the group agreed and they all held hands.
Thaddeus was to his left, Melinda to his right. Her hand felt small and soft and warm. He liked it.
After prayers they raced downstairs to the main dining room.
“Here’s what ya need, Bill,” Cedric said, loading up a plate of scrambled eggs. “Protein, low carbs. Well, maybe a few carbs for you. Grab some fruit.”
“What are you doing?” Janice asked, peering at him as she picked up a plate in the serving line and began dishing herself up toast and grapefruit.
“He’s trying to turn me into Mr. Universe,” Billy explained, holding up one of his slender arms. “Be sure and wish him luck.”
“Well, if you’re going to work on building muscle you need to have him eating foods that are also lower in fat…”
“Oh, you wanna argue nutrition with me, girl?” Cedric said, “Cuz I’ll do it. I know my stuff.”
Janice rolled her eyes. “Guys!”
Cedric grinned.
Once at their table, Cedric immediately leaned forward and whispered, “Hey, Thaddeus, we got a Preacher Kid at 9 o’clock.”
Thaddeus squinted at him and demanded, “What?”
“Hi!”
The group looked up to see a smiling, brown haired girl walking over. Standing behind Cedric, she said, “I just really felt moved to give you this.”
Billy watched as the girl put a witnessing tract in his hand. “I just really want you to know, Jesus loves you.”
Cedric smiled up at her. “Wow, I didn’t know.”
Billy couldn’t believe the sarcasm that dripped from his mouth, but the girl didn’t seem to notice.
“Oh, if there’s any questions you have or anything you want to pray about come talk to me.”
Cedric never stopped smiling. “Sure, thanks!”
Janice whispered. “Oh, my gosh, we found Stepford wife junior!”
“Aw, now don’t be that way,” Cedric said. “She can give me all the tracts she wants. If I’m lucky, she might even lay hands on me.”
Thaddeus covered his face trying to hold back his laughter.
“Aw, mon, I hope there aint no clouds in the sky cause I’d have to watch for lightnin’! What I want to know is how did you rate this attention?”
Cedric smirked, but kept his voice low, “C’mon, check out the safety pins in my ears and my black on black wardrobe. I don’t look saved.”
Janice asked, “Are you Christian?”
Cedric peered at her. “I’ll leave you to ponder the possibility. And if I am, then maybe my calling is just a tiny bit different from yours. In the mean time, I’ll let the cute PK witness to me.”
Janice shook her head and rolled her eyes. “You’re amazing.”
“I knew you liked me.”
Janice’s mouth dropped open and it was plain that she was winding up for a fight.
Thaddeus stepped in. “Awright, mon, awright! We got it. Yer a dog and proud of it. Don’t pick on our girl Janice there.”
Janice flipped back her blond hair. “Thank you, Thanddeus.”
“No problem, love. Now, you guys must have looked at your class schedules last night. All except Cedric, God knows what he as looking at…”
Janice and Melinda burst out laughing and Cedric rose and took a solemn bow.
“…I was wonderin’, anyone else in calculus?”
“Oh, I am!” Janice said.
“Me, too,” Melinda chimed in.
“Excellent! We can help each other out there, ladies.”
Billy stared. “You guys are in calculus? Crap, I was doing good to make it into Algebra II.”
“Oh, I can help you with it,” Melinda said brightly. “That was one of my best subjects when I took it.”
Feeling a little stupid, he asked, “When was that? Ninth grade?”
Melinda shrugged. “Well, sure.”
“Don’t worry, Cajun,” Cedric said as he was about to devour a slice of bacon. “You’re good at other things. Like running off reporters! Did you see that first woman?” Cedric stuck his nose in the air, “’Oh, we have enough! Let’s run before he starts preaching!’ I wish I had Holy Water then. I’d be like, ‘the power of Christ compels you, bitch!’”
“Uh, Mr. Mahler,” Mrs. Widdersham’s voice called from the front table and Cedric’s eyes bulged as he realized his voice rose a bit too much. “If it’s all the same to you, I think the incident was handled as it should have been.”
Cedric turned a deep crimson. “Uh, yes ma’am.” Looking around he added, “Sorry, guys.”
Mrs. Widdersham rose from the head table to address the group. “I do want to speak about yesterday’s events before Bible class convenes. It seems our local news considered our Mr. Fontenot an easy target and was fortunately shown to be wrong; as I knew would be the case. If you have seen Billy on any of the shows where he has appeared, then you know he is not afraid to speak the Word of God, as is the case with many of you.”
Billy glanced over and saw Dennis nodding in agreement over this assessment.
“When it is your time to do something of that same nature, I pray that you will do it with as much humility and clarity. Now, since we were all there and know precisely what took place, I thought it would be fun to see how the media interprets such events.”
She strolled back to the head table, picked up a newspaper and opened it.
“Ah, here we are! On page 2. We’ll have to do better next time.”
Billy smiled.
“Here is our headline: ‘Opening Day at Exorcist School Wrought with Violence and Concern.’”
Billy’s mouth dropped. He expected something like this, but it bothered him anyway. Around the room there were audible gasps and a few calls of, “No!” and “They’ve got to be kidding!”
“No, no,” Mrs. Widdersham said. “That statement is technically true as I am sure Mr. Hodges violent behavior concerned us all.”
This time there were murmurs of agreement.
“And the same might be said for much of the article. But notice the focus as I read. ‘David Hodges says he will think twice before ever engaging in practical jokes again.’ Uh, students, to the best of my knowledge, Mr. Hodges didn’t sound at all like he was joking yesterday, did he?”
“Oh, hell no,” Cedric muttered, almost below the level of a humans ability to hear.
“No, it was not amusing at all,” Mrs. Widdersham said. “I’ll continue; ‘Mr. Hodges gained entry to the opening of the School of the Exorcists yesterday and found himself caught in the age old struggle of good versus evil.’ Two things here; I have read the entire article and I see no mention of the extreme lengths he went to in order to gain entry even though to do so would require forging more documentation than a career criminal. He even found someone to play his mother at a local interview we did for the school. None of that seemed to merit a mention, however, this did: ’Mr. Hodges gave this description of events at the school. We were told to sit down in the schools dining room and were not allowed to get up and leave until the head lady, said we could leave. After this greasy meal of cold, rubbery chicken…’”
She put the paper down. “This is intolerable! I can put up with a number of slings and arrows, but to insult Mr. Pritchard’s cooking…”
Mr. Pritchard stood and in opened mouthed disbelief, said, “That was some of the best cooking I’ve done in my whole life! Whose chicken was he eating?”
Billy laughed. It was a pointless and untrue detail
“Exactly!” Mrs. Widdersham proclaimed. “I will compose a letter to the editor right away making my feelings known on this subject.”
A hand shot up at the ‘Smart kid’ table.
A guy with thick glasses Billy thought was named ‘Mark’ said, “Hey, do you mind if students write one, too? I mean, c’mon, he insulted our food!”
Mr. Pritchard added with mock indignation, “Yeah, what he said.”
“By all means, write away. You may read feel free to read this at you leisure, but let me finish it for you now, if I can. It is distastefully slanted: ‘…after, ahem, the meal, we were forced to listen to several minutes of programming where Elizabeth Widdersham started her brain washing technique. One of the boys, that kid with the possess-o family everyone’s seen, Billy Fontenot, he came at me and I just remember his cell phone flashing and then I went into a seizure. I don’t know what she plans on doing to those kids up there, but it can’t be good.’”
Cedric shouted, “No, way!”
Billy could see his own indignant emotions reflected on every face in the room.
“They can’t do that!”
“Isn’t that slander?”
“Freakin’ liars!”
“Yes, and all the above,” Mrs. Widdersham said. “I shall be sending them legal notice of those facts. In the mean, time I point these things out to you as a reminder that this is no game. Don’t be concerned about who did or did not confront the reporters yesterday; because I tell you students, the devil has enough hate for us all. One of the greatest strengths in combating such is evil lies in our ability to love one another and our willingness to work together. Let’s make sure we use that strength each and every day.”
Around the table were nods of agreement.
Billy couldn’t help but sneak a peak over at Dennis Harper, who was also nodding, but his lips were pressed together as if uncertain about something. Billy hoped it wasn’t about him. With only 21 students in the place not getting along with someone could make for a very long year.
“Very good, then. We will be meeting in the ball room for your joint classes, such as Bible. For the more individual classes we will be using the conference rooms. And,” she added holding up an index finger, “since we have such a small kitchen staff we are going to ask you to help them out, because of course if you don’t help them, then meals will never get out on time and we’ve already seen the kind of press our meals receive, we don’t want it to get any worse…”
Billy laughed. He liked the old woman.
“…so we will pray and then Mr. Daniels will instruct you on how we will clean up after meals.”