The downpour was heavy. Strong Trees had fallen across the electric cables in the monstrous Thunder storm that blew across the village of Kaluattha making it look even more desolate on this lonely fateful night. It was still 6 pm but eerie darkness had swallowed up every corner leaving no space for any light. The Wind howled like a women in labor, as a distant light broke through the black veil splitting it in half as if to expose every hiding demon lurking on edges of the road to Hell. A Car approached. Leaves that were stripped off its helpless branches danced vapidly in the fog light.
“There isn’t a soul of light on this road, how do we find the way”.
A soft but clear voice spoke over the fanatic rain that was relentlessly beating on the windshield. He was the one behind the wheel.
“The Cables are broken, no electricity, no phones” .
The voice although quite rough, was not lacking in composure but rich in solitude. He sat sturdily in the back seat of the Car.
“Why? Are you afraid?” He continued to ask from the one who was driving.
“Oh...No...Not at all . You know this is not my first travel with you Father”.
“
It’s not what I am saying Darren ” Said Father John Damien, The 56 year old Vicar of St. Matthias Church in Aratuwa , now on his way , transferred to the sleepy village of Kaluatta having been summoned in haste to reside and take over work at the rundown Church of St. Agatha and its abandoned vicarage. There was a lot of work to be done there.
“Then what do you mean Father” questioned Darren, A lean but tall looking boy in his late 20’s. He seemed a lot lesser than his age, considering his softer voice and fair skin that went along with his short but wavy black hair and brown eyes was always an attraction to the opposite sex causing quite a drama in his life so far.
“ I mean the place we are going to. Keep driving now or you will miss the turn” The stern Vicar was in no mood of giving any explanations.
Darren pressed on “ But you dint tell –“
Streaks of white light flashed into his eyes as a nearby tree was struck by severe lightning. He hit the brakes so hard that it almost jolted the Priest head first into the dashboard of the old Car. A branch from the shaken tree fell onto the old car as it came to a screeching halt. Thankfully the branch was not as big or heavy so as to crush them both under the hood.
Darren had just taken a steep left turn uphill when not just the flashing , but he had abruptly noticed a shadowy figure running across the head lights before he halted thinking it must have been a Deer.
“ Father..are you ok… are you hurt .. im sorry it..was the light..”
“We should keep going Darren”
Fr. Damien didn’t seem any shocked by the sudden chain of events. He wasn’t someone who would easily stagger. As of Darren, he very rarely held his breath for a long time. Nature had not implanted the genes of calmness to his nerves. He fumbled in the queer darkness for the car keys and turned it once. He turned it again. The Old car engine coughed, then stuttered and eventually refused to start as its small tires turned desperately in the mud, splashing all over the shutters in the attempt.
“ …need to push this old frog out of the mud.. it keeps getting better “ Darren said as he got out of the Car into the soaking rain without any covering let alone an Umbrella . Through it all, the well learned Father remained quiet as quiet could ever get even in such a tumult of natures rampage on an innocent village.
Darren rapped hard on the car shutter on the side the Father was sitting. The shutter lowered barely enough for Darren to speak into the car over the sound of the wind and blasting thunder, the sound of rain was no match for the former.
“What is it” asked Father Damien
“Father..the Car is really stuck. I am going to try and push it out” He wasn’t aware that he was screaming.
“Try to hold still..I just need something to move this junk” Darren continued and then turning around instantly his curiosity arose. “What was that?..I think I saw something -”
“ No Darren ! get back in the Car. We will figure something out if you can’t get the car to move” he shouted back over the half opened shutter.
Too late! Darren had disappeared into the darkness.
Fr. Damien sat rooted in the car, not sure if he should pursue Darren or remain in the safety of the Car.
Surely this priest was not known to be of the faint hearted but the circumstances called for wise thinking than a hasty decision to step into the plotting darkness. However the questions remained where Darren went even without a torch or rather what he saw. It was also not that Father Damien was ignorant of the reasons for such circumstances but nothing was clear enough to presume the unthinkable. All he could do was wonder where the boy had vanished in the middle of this evil tempest.
An hour has passed and Darren had not yet returned to the car. By this time the rain had halted and the storm had observed a ceremonial silence after all the intense violence. Father Damien now under the pressure of doubt did feel the suddenly motionless night and the atmospheric change, like he remembered seeing in the old movie ‘All quiet on the Western front” – the calm before the explosion.
He finally got out of the Car, thinking if it was too late or if he should be thankful that the storm was over. There was no one in sight even after the clearing.
( to be cont ..)
