Original Son

Chapter 8
Part 8

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Chapter Description: The congregation.

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Detective Harris opened his email and blinked twice. The feds had come through with surprising efficiency. Curious, he maximized the window and skimmed down the screen. His eyes widened as he scanned the page. Placing his never-ending coffee on the table, Harris leaned forward intently, not believing what he was reading.

“Jim, get over here. Have you ever seen anything like this?”

“What is it?” Jim said, tightening his belt after a leisurely trip to the men’s room.

“John Leary, the pastor out at New Life. His name came up in a search of the national database, so I filed a request for a more detailed report,” Harris explained. “Regular procedural stuff. Then, lo and behold, I get this email.”

“Whoa, CIA.”

“No shit,” Harris added. “It’s as vague as hell, but from what I can make out, this guy has a paper trail a mile long.”

“What for?”

“Can’t tell. This response reads like a technical manual. Clearly the good reverend has a past, but they’re being admirably tightlipped when it comes to the details.”

“Guess it’s worth a look after all,” Shelton admitted. “You’ve got a nose like a bloodhound, Sam.”

“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Harris said, picking up the phone. This week might be more interesting that he had anticipated.

“Well, it’s late,” Jim reminded them both. “Enough conspiracy theories for one day. I’m heading home.”

***

Like two everyday mothers engaging in idle chitchat, Patricia and Allison diapered their children unceremoniously, peeling off their pants, wiping down their privates, and affixing the cloth and plastic around their shrinking waists. Three weeks prior, the last chore on either of their minds was potty training or diapering. Now the procedure felt as natural as a routine trip to the grocery.

“It’s a good thing I remembered to stop for Pampers on the way,” Allison joked, swabbing gently between her daughter’s legs.

“Richard bought more,” Patricia noted. “They’re in the pantry if you need them.”

“I think this will hold us for tonight,” she said. “I hope.”

Caught in a haze of conflicting memories and emotions, Matthew laid back wordlessly as Patricia taped the Huggies tightly around the trouble area. Lying beside him was a doe-eyed baby girl, staring entranced up at her mother. With his regression running full tilt now, Matt wasn’t far behind the pretty toddler. In a matter of minutes the continuing demotion would leave them both pint-sized two-year-olds - barefoot, inquisitive, and naked from the waist up.

“There we go, kiddo,” Patricia announced, bending down to place little Matthew on the cold tile floor. “Why don’t you go play with Danielle?”

“Aww, they look so cute together,” Allison observed, watching the waddling duo adjust to their new minimal wardrobes.

A sudden attack of bashfulness overtook Matt and Danielle as they surveyed one another with the timid curiosity of young children. Patricia, meanwhile, appeared lost in a moment of maternal delight. There, diapered and restored, stood her little atheist, reduced to an innocent, impressionable child. New clay to be molded. The longer the transformation continued, the more she felt like a mother again. Even her body responded, prompting her breasts to swell slightly as if preparing to nurse an infant.

“My name is Danielle,” the girl said abruptly.

“My name is Matthew. Wanna go see my room?”

“OK,” Danielle replied courteously, following the grinning little boy up the stairs. Already both had lost interest in their older playmates outside.

“Kids make friends so fast,” Allison opined, stuffing Danielle’s strawberry two-piece bathing suit into her bag. “Guess we won’t be needing this for awhile.”

“Yep, I think they’re past the modesty stage,” Patricia observed. “Pretty soon, I won’t even be able to keep Matthew in his diapers.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” Allison agreed. “Danielle used to run around naked in the front yard when we turned on the sprinklers. I had to fight to get PJs on her some nights.”

As the evening grew dark, guests gathered their dishes, thanked the Kesslers for their hospitality, and shuffled out the front door. Many of their sons and daughters had lost additional years during the party. Lexi Milosch, the once buxom high school beauty queen, entered the potluck a shy six-year-old and exited a wide-eyed preschooler. In every direction were youths traveling further and further into their childhoods. Only a handful of formerly college-aged volunteers could brag about middle school.

“No, we don’t have playgrounds,” one popular, athletic boy explained to two worshipful fourth-graders. “Those are for little kids.”

“I don’t really play much at our school,” the shorter kid said, feigning indifference.

“Yeah, it’s mostly for kindergartners and stuff,” the other followed suit.

That night, after the last visitor walked out with a gurgling infant on her arm, the house was in dire need of cleanup. Thoroughly worn out, Patricia and Richard elected to leave the mess for the next morning. Over the past couple weeks, Matt’s bedtime had inched ever earlier. Now, with the clock over the couch reading 10:05, it was clearly past time.

“Sweetie,” Patricia called. “Time for bed, okay?”

“But Mommy...” The reluctant rebuttal echoed down the hall, followed by the crunching sound of diapers that now preceded Matt wherever he went.

“It’s past ten,” Richard stood behind his mom’s assessment. “Lights out in 15 minutes.”

Wearing a puppy dog frown, Matt trudged through the dining room dragging his new stuffed animal behind him. “I’m sposed to stay up,” he muttered angrily.

“It’s already an hour past your bedtime,” Patricia explained. “Aren’t ya getting sleepy?”

“No,” Matt pouted. “You said big boys stay up late.”

“Why don’t you head upstairs, get tucked in, and I’ll come read you a story?” she bargained.

Debating for a second, Matt finally agreed. “OK.”

The trip upstairs took a little more work in his new body, as each step now appeared magnified in size. Save for a few fleeting moments of minor hesitation, Matthew had finally grown down just like the others. Danielle, Ryan, Nathan, Lexi. The last flickers of their teen lives were being blown out like so many birthday candles.

***

The following morning a persistent knock came at the door. The Kesslers, still hard at work repairing the damage from the previous night’s festivities, took a minute to finally answer the door. They were greeted by two officers, one in plain clothes and the other in uniform, both wearing to-the-point expressions.

“Can I help you?” Richard asked, just cracking the screen door.

“Is this the Kessler residence?”

“Yes, it is,” Patricia said, an inflection of worry already tinting her words. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, no,” Sam responded, flashing his badge. “My name is Detective Sam Harris. I’m investigating a report we received earlier this week regarding New Life Church. You’re a member there, correct?”

“Yes, that’s our church,” Richard replied. “What’s the problem?”

“Could we step inside for a moment?” Sam asked, shading his eyes from the sun. “This won’t take more than a couple minutes, I promise.”

“Certainly,” Richard said, allowing the policemen to step inside.

“Lovely house,” Jim remarked reflexively.

“Oh thank you,” Patricia said. “Pardon the mess. We hosted a little party last night for some friends from church. End of Vacation Bible School, you know.”

Taking stock of the copious family photos hanging on the walls, Sam nodded politely as he spun his trusty pencil in his right hand. “I see.”

Just as an uneasy silence came to rest upon the conversation, a feisty naked toddler brushed past Sam’s leg and attached himself like a barnacle to his mother’s side. Out of breath, the two-year-old glanced up at Patricia anxiously.

“Mommy, who are they?” he asked.

Without answering, Patricia moved to pick up her unclothed son. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized blushingly. “He loves his birthday suit, as you can see.”

Jim grinned with amusement. “It’s ok, ma’am. We’ve seen worse in our line of work.”

“If you’ll excuse me for a minute while I get some diapers on him...”

“No problem,” Sam said, still admiring the museum of pictures lining the living room walls. Nearby, a cardboard box of framed photos, presumably old, hung half open. Peering casually inside Detective Harris noticed several 5X7s of a kindergarten-aged boy knee deep in Playmobil toys. “How many children do you have, Mr. Kessler?”

“Matthew is our only child,” Richard answered. “Do you mind telling me what this is all about?”

“Oh yes,” Sam regained his train of thought. “Our department received a complaint this week from an anonymous caller about possible child abuse occurring at New Life Church.”

“Abuse?” Richard instinctively stepped back. “Well I can assure you, officer, nothing like that is going on in this house.”

“Of course not,” Jim interrupted. “We have no reason to suspect you or any other parents at the church are mistreating children. We’re here to ask about your Pastor... Mr. John Leary, is it?”

Hearing the words “child abuse” Patricia quickly reentered the scene, carrying a pacified, albeit annoyed, youngster. Allowing his partner to take the reins, Detective Harris took a moment to study the bouncy toddler’s face, which bore a remarkable similarity to the boy in the boxed photos. Maybe a cousin, he surmised.

“John Leary is one of the finest citizens we have,” Patricia defended the New Life minister. “He’s brought so many to the Lord. I don’t believe for a second he would ever harm a child.”

“I see,” Sam said. “So you’ve seen nothing at all? No suspicious behavior?”

“None,” Richard responded pointedly.

“Well, it’s best we check up on these things,” the detective explained. “Surely you understand. You’ll be sure to alert us if you notice anything.”

“Certainly, yes.”

With that, the officers excused themselves, as Jim waved goodbye to the diaper-clad toddler. “Cute. Reminds me of my son at that age.”

Their next stop would take them directly into the lion’s den itself - the office of Pastor Leary.

So far Jim had noticed virtually nothing of the ordinary, but that didn’t kept the wheels in his partner’s head from spinning. While the investigation hadn’t yielded any apparent leads yet, Detective Harris sensed a strange vibe from the families they interviewed that morning. The disquieting absence of older children, a general sense of unease, aged photographs: all of which could be easily explained logically, and yet the overall impression seemed to be one of a community with something to hide.

Inside New Life, the officers were led through the foyer and into the front church office. A bleach blonde secretary with a permanent smile seated them in the empty office.

“Pastor Leary will be here in just a moment,” she said, placing two glasses of water in front of them. “He’s running a little late today.”

“That’s fine,” Sam said. “Thank you.”

The office appeared much like one would expect. Pictures of Jesus, Bible verses painted, sewn, and stenciled onto virtually every piece of decoration, and an extensive library of theology books created a thoroughly religious atmosphere. As the minutes passed, Sam stood up to stretch. With intermittent yawns, he began reading off the titles in Leary’s collection.

“Summa Theologica... Oxford Bible Commentary... The Pied Piper of Hamelin.” He paused. “Hmm, that’s interesting.”

“Hello, gentlemen,” Pastor Leary said, entering behind the officers.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sam said, moving away from the bookshelf. “I hope you don’t mind me perusing your library.”

“Not at all. If you can read the through the dust, that is...”

“We won’t take up much of your time,” Jim assured the minister. “Just a few questions regarding a call we received about your church. Would it be all right if we record this?”

“No problem at all.”

Sam elected to remain standing while Officer Shelton ran through the formalities. As a rule, he preferred to watch interviewees from a distance at first. Sometimes he would detect an anomaly in body language, a facial tell, or an odd habit that might escape the view of someone leaning too close. So far Pastor Leary appeared perfectly at ease in his surroundings. He conducted the interview patiently and without any hint of animosity or inconvenience. Either the good reverend was an exceedingly mild-mannered fellow or a well-studied expert.

“You seem to have an inordinately young church, if you don’t mind me saying,” Sam finally interrupted Jim’s rather standard line of questioning.

“Yes, our services seem to attract a lot of new families,” Leary agreed. “Mostly parents of young children. I think our...“

“We’ve talked to quite a few of them. I don’t want to give you a big head, but they have nothing but the highest praise for this place. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were running a cult of some kind here.”

Chuckling at the suggestion, Leary leaned back and nodded his head. “We have a very dedicated flock.”

“Still, I’ve noticed most of the parents are in their forties, some in their fifties,” Sam continued, running his finger along the creased spine of St. Augustine’s Confessions. “Awfully late to be having children that young, don’t you think?”

“Well, they say folks are waiting later to have kids these days.”

“The miracles of modern science.”

“The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

Sam smirked. “Well Jim, I think we’ve bothered the reverend enough for one day.”

“Anything to help,” Leary said, standing up to shake the officers’ hands. “I’d love to see you at church this Sunday.”

“Be careful. We might just take you up on that,” Sam said, gathering his belongings.

***

Decked out in his Sunday best, Matt could have modeled for one of the overpriced porcelain dolls on the last page of Parade magazine. His sweet face beaming, the restless two-year-old chirped with childlike anticipation. “Will my friends be there?”

“Yes, they will!” Patricia answered, mimicking her son’s new singsongy inflection. With Matthew’s cognitive capacities reduced to the level of a toddler, she found herself easily slipping back into motherspeak. “You can show off your new little suit!”

“Yeah,” Matt answered, already distracted again.

“Honey, doesn’t he look adorable? Turn around, baby,” Patricia said, straightening Matt’s miniature bowtie as her husband walked by.

“That’s my big boy,” he said, mussing up his hair.

“Honey!” she snapped. “I just combed that. Now we have to start over.”

“Sorry,” Richard said, pushing his son’s fine brown hair back into place. “He looks handsome either way, don’t you boy?”

Matt nodded his head and smiled, revealing a row of perfectly formed baby teeth. “Can we go now?”

“Just a sec,” Patricia said, retrieving a brush from the bathroom. Never before had her son showed such enthusiasm about going to church. Every time he opened his mouth and she heard his high-pitched “Mommy,” it was all she could do not to break down in tears. After a sixteen year absence, her baby had returned - in every way.

***

When the Kessler clan pulled into New Life’s crowded parking lot, Richard groaned. “Man, this place is packed. We might have to park across the street.”

As they wove back through the tight knot of SUVs and station wagons, Matt stared intently out of the tinted window closest to his car seat. Outside a surplus of strollers, baby carriers, and diapered infants gave the church entrance the appearance of a giant daycare. Matt spotted a few friends being led into New Life by their mommies and daddies, who now towered over their sons and daughters. By all estimates, that Sunday’s crowd would undoubtedly set all sorts of attendance records.

“That’s Nathan!” Matt waved feverishly as they passed by, though his friend was now far too short to notice. “Nathan!”

Once parked, the family cautiously crossed Breslin Street and filed into the noisy sanctuary. Only a handful of seats remained on the last row. Politely excusing themselves, Patricia and Richard made their way to the center and sat down as Pastor Leary began the opening prayer.

“Blessed Father, we gather here today to exalt your holy name, to give thanks for this bounty you’ve given us,” the baritone minister intoned. “But most of all, we thank you for the children, so many of whom are here today. May they grow in your light and your care to become men and women of God...”

A chorus of infant giggles, gurgling, and yelps threatened to interrupt Leary’s prayer, but seemed only to augment the conviction in his words.

“Lord, we are all like children. We know nothing of your ways, which are hidden to us, and nothing of your mercy, which is beyond us. All we know is your love, your infinite love. Today, let us renew that faith and learn to live in Christ’s image. In your name we pray, Amen.”

“Amen,” the adults chanted.

***

Back at the police station, Detective Harris tapped his watch and toggled through the settings until he reached military time. “Well, Jim. Where the hell are you? It’s a quarter past.”

“Maybe you kept him up too late last night,” Kendra said, clearing her receptionist’s desk. “Want me to call again?”

“The morning service at New Life started forty-five minutes ago,” Harris explained. “Goddamn it, where...“

Like a divine answer to Sam’s invocation, the front entrance buzzer sounded, indicating an unauthorized visitor. Kendra opened the mic.

“State your name and your business.”

“This is Lesley Shelton,” the voice quivered. “Jim Shelton’s wife.”

Hearing that, Detective Harris motioned for Kendra to unlock the door. On the other side, Sam discovered a frantic, red-eyed woman with a hospital bracelet fastened to her wrist.

“Lesley, what’s wrong?” he asked, pulling a rolling chair from the nearby break room. Mrs. Shelton appeared near collapse as she slunk through the doorway.

“It’s Jim. Last night he started acting strange - like not himself. And, and...”

“How so?”

“At first, I thought it was great. Jim came home, changed into different clothes, and started acting all frisky. Not that that’s a bad thing, but still... unlike him after a hard night at work, you know? As the night went on, he started paling around with our son. You remember Brad, right?”

“Of course, at the company picnic last year. Jim talks about him all the time. How old is he now?”

“He’ll turn thirteen this month,” Mrs. Shelton answered, wiping her reddened cheek. “Anyway, Jim and Brad have always gotten along great, but last night, it was like he shifted gears and started really playing with him. Like they were both kids.”

“Sounds harmless enough,” Sam interjected.

“Until this morning,” Rachel said, her voice trembling again. “I woke up at 6:30 like usual and Jim wasn’t there. Then I heard some noise coming from the bathroom. When I opened the door, I saw Jim and...”

“Yes?”

“You’re gonna think I’m nuts.”

“Go ahead, Lesley.”

“His face, it was - he looked younger. Like a sixteen-year-old. I was sure it was him, but I hadn’t seen him like that since we met in high school and that was twenty years ago.”

Sam’s disturbed expression appeared glued to his face. “Younger?”

“When I tried to talk to him, it was like he had forgotten everything. I told him my name and that we were married, but...” Lesley gasped. “He responded just like some regular teenager... like I was his mom.”

“Where is he now?”

“We took him to the hospital, the one just down the block from here.” Lesley sniffled as she swabbed her nose with a ragged Kleenex. “The doctors thought I was crazy...”

“Lesley, look at me,” Sam said, placing his hand on her shoulder and staring directly into her bloodshot eyes. “You’re not crazy.”

“I know I’m not. I saw it...“

“This isn’t going to stay a mystery much longer, Mrs. Shelton. I promise,” Harris said, grabbing his trench coat from the rack. “Jerry, put out an APB and get every available officer to New Life Church.”

 

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