The Well

By Selmoore Codfish

Demons are on the loose. A disagreement over theological issues escalates until opposing groups are at each other’s throats. Neal tries to calm everyone to avoid publicity. Yet, violence and then strange murders. Every character has a motive to have committed the crimes. The problem for Neal is to connect the method and opportunity to the culprit. Additionally, Neal becomes worried whether the case is affecting his family. Ten chapters, 52,000 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Selmoore Codfish
• Release date: Dec 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370498024

Selmoore Codfish

Selmoore Codfish is not really a fish, but a chicken. He’s hiding because celebrity would show that he is not actually funny, just faking it. If the public knew Mr. Codfish’s identity, they would demand that he be funny all of the time. However, he would prefer to remain a dour, grumpy person. Funny people don’t get respect but are thought of as special or different. His friends and associates appreciate his dry seriousness and they shouldn’t be let down by humor.

Book preview

The Well

By Selmoore Codfish

Copyright 2017 Selmoore Codfish

Smashwords Edition

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Table of Contents

The Well

About the Author

Other books by the Author

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Chapter 1

A dark angel occupies the throne of our church. He does the work of the Deceiver and pollutes God’s word. I will not sit as he leads us to destruction, said Abby Williams, who was an irate member standing near the front of the church.

Sire Proctor turned away and covered his eyes. It was extremely bold of Mrs. Williams to accuse her priest to his face. However, she appeared nervous and didn’t make eye contact with him. She didn’t look at the members of St. Levi’s either, and she spoke towards empty space.

Mr. Harris, she said to me, you need to take him away from here today. Church members often believed that I had more power than I really did. I had no dungeon to lock away misbehaving preachers. I was not much more than an adjustor for the church’s self-insurance group.

Jason in our legal department had called me a few days earlier to see if I could handle the problem at St. Levi’s. He had said the congregation was attempting to sue itself to have its leader removed. Our charter prevented us from taking legal action against ourselves, so Jason felt that this was an issue of loss prevention instead. Therefore, he rationalized the problem was insurance rather than legality.

Listening to them talk, I felt the problem was too many dingbats. Insurance was better at dealing with bats in the bell tower. I would know what sort of claim to help them file if it were the only issue. However, bats-in-the-belfry was always more troubling. The types of loss the church would incur would be more severe if people became angry and left, and negative publicity would impact churches throughout the region.

It was best that I try to cool their tempers. This wasn’t what I was trained to do. I’d rather have been in my office summing accounts, but often I got caught up in bickering between people.

Jason had told me little. He’d said that Sire Proctor was a new priest who’d spent his first years overseas, and now at his new assignment the congregation was rejecting him. Despite that, they’d had a decent showing of about 30 people at the Sunday worship that preceded the congregational meeting.

I’m not sure why you want the Sire removed, I said.

He is trying to get us to pray to the Deceiver, said Abby. He has defiled the sacraments. He tries to get us to eat the unholy sacrifice with him.

That explained Mrs. Williams’ behavior during the services. She’d gone out of the sanctuary while the sacraments were being passed around. She’d pulled out her two teen boys with her.

I looked around the room and saw one of them sitting with a girl now. The two of them were looking in each other’s eyes.

I glanced back to Mrs. Williams. I hadn’t seen the Devil fly around the church during worship as she had implied. The service had been like any other one I’d attended. There must have been something in real life that was making her angry.

What have you seen him do that makes you say that? I asked Mrs. Williams.

First of all, he has been using gluten-free bread for the sacrament, she said. That breaks the link to our Savior, and connects us instead to a false god.

I nodded, but didn’t know how to react otherwise. It was church policy that bread had to be wheat. It wasn’t my job to enforce such doctrines and I could get in trouble if I said anything about it.

Second, he’s been exposing us to the path to darkness.

Encouraging open-minded thoughts, said the Sire, interrupting her, is not the same as leading you to the Devil. Mrs. Williams cringed at him saying the word ‘Devil’.

He’s… she started saying, but I held up my hand. I’d heard only from Abby so far. I wanted to see if the others all felt as strongly as her. I turned towards the other members of the congregation who’d stayed for the meeting.

What do the rest of you feel about this? I asked.

The room was silent except for people shuffling uncomfortably in their seats.

We agree with her, a man said. When I turned to look at him, he faced away. Then a young woman stood. She was the girl who’d been sitting in the back with the handsome son of Mrs. Williams.

Sire Proctor has been nice to me, said the girl. What has he done to you?

Julie, he’s polluted the sacraments, said Mrs. Williams. Over the sacraments, he sacrifices animals to the Dark One, and then makes us eat them.

I looked at the Sire. He appeared to be too shocked to defend himself.

How do you know this? I asked.

I am employed as the church sexton, she replied. For cleaning, my family and I stay in the second house. I thought of the back of the property. There were two houses and a garage. I nodded.

I see where he has butchered animals over an altar, she continued saying. I hear what he says there. I rolled my eyes uncontrollably. It seemed like she had evidence against him, but I’d withhold judgment until I talked with him privately.

I’ve been around too, Julie said. She quickly glanced to the young man next to her. Then she looked forward again. I haven’t seen anything unusual.

Julie, said Mrs. Williams, he’s not going to do it when he thinks anyone is around.

I’ve seen him outside at different hours, Julie said. What he was working on didn’t seem suspicious to me.

That is because you are under his spell, said Mrs. Williams.

I am not. I’m fine, said Julie. Mrs. Williams shook her head.

Romero, she said pointing at the handsome boy with Julie. Go sit with Victor. Romero slowly got up. He looked at Julie and shrugged, and then walked, sulking, to be with Abby’s other son. The younger teen boy looked with sympathy towards his brother and his friend. Julie frowned at the back of his head as he left.

Don’t put curses on my family, said Mrs. Williams. Julie looked back to her with confusion. Are you a witch?

No, said Julie, shocked at the accusation.

You defend Proctor. Are you on the path to destruction with him? Do you worship with him?

I’d seen the whole congregation go through the services with the Sire. I didn’t think that was what Abby was asking the girl. Julie grew more and more angry.

How dare you! yelled Julie.

Well, do you do it? said Abby. She wasn’t backing down.

Maybe I do worship the Devil with him, screamed Julie. Mrs. Williams cringed at what she’d heard despite it being what she was trying to get Julie to say.

I felt that Julie might have reacted like she did just so she could attack Abby with words that would hurt her. I didn’t think that she meant what she’d said. The conversation had just gotten out of control. It was partly my fault since I knew they were putting on a show for me. It was frustrating.

I’ve heard enough, I said. I raised my arms and waved them back. Some of the members took it as a cue to leave.

Mrs. Williams’ expressions changed to a gloat. She stood near me so that I could observe her pleased expression.

I want to talk to some of the people privately before I decide anything, I said. Her smile eased a little.

I looked away from her, and I noticed that as most people were leaving, Julie was at the back with tears in her eyes. An older woman approached her. Julie rose and hugged her. They had a similar appearance except for the age difference.

Next, I turned to where Sire Proctor had been. He was now standing at the window and looking out. I didn’t want to talk to him with Abby still around, but I was worried for him. When Abby finally walked away, I went to the Sire. I stood so that he could see me on his side.

We need to talk sometime, I said.

Yes, we should, he said. He had a blank face.

I was relieved that he was up and talking. He’d looked like he was in shock. I stepped back and he withdrew through the side of the sanctuary.

Only about seven people remained. Abby and her second son, Victor, stood waiting for people to leave. They probably needed to clean.

I started walking down the aisle. As I neared the back where Julie had sat down, the woman next to her noticed me and then approached me.

I’m Regina Stuart—Julie’s mom, she said.

Hello, I said. I’m sorry for today. She nodded.

Do you have a business card so I can call you? she asked. I gave her one. She didn’t have anything else to say so I nodded and left.

* * * *

At home, I played with my children. Since I’d had been away and my wife had cared for them in the morning, it was my turn to be with them now as she exercised and did chores.

I’d worked on a Sunday so it shouldn’t have counted as my free time for the day. I should have had some time for myself. However, after that, I didn’t mind time with family.

We were in the basement, and Melanie started playing Green Ghost. She’d made up the game. Basically, we’d walk around until she yelled green ghost! and then we’d start running.

I didn’t understand all of the rules. My two and a half year old son, Jack, didn’t grasp the rules either, but he liked any game where he could run and chase, or be chased. My goal was to watch Jack to make sure he wasn’t run over by Melanie. There were lots of close calls.

Green ghost! my daughter yelled. Jack repeated it and we all ran.

Running around the corner, Jack was too close and would have bumped the door jamb, so I held out my hand to cushion his bounce off of it. Then I ran right into the door myself.

I staggered back and then sat onto the floor. My head was spinning.

My kids walked back and stood next to me. I had to lie down because I was dizzy.

Are you okay? Melanie asked.

I got bumped, I said, and closed my eyes.

Oh, she said. I stayed down for a minute.

Kisses to feel better, said Jack. I heard lip smacking but didn’t feel any contact.

I think the green ghost may have got me. Is that what happens when he catches you? I asked.

No. Usually it is tickles, she said. Jack laughed. I recalled that when I played the role of the chaser, I’d tickle them when I caught them. Either Melanie was tickling him or he was remembering being caught.

I felt a little better so I sat up. After another minute, I moved to the chair.

I think it’s time to read instead, I said. They brought a couple books. It was hard for me to focus my eyes, but I recalled the books from memory.

In my blurry vision, I could imagine a ghost standing next to us. I shook my head, then I regretted the pain from doing it.

Later that night, I was laying on the floor again, but outside of Jack’s door. We’d just put him to bed.

I’d recently removed his crib from his room. I’d messed up how I’d prepared him for it.

Jack was too old for a crib because he was able to crawl out of it and that was unsafe. However, he always said he wanted to sleep in the crib whenever we talked about his bed. Eventually, I disassembled the crib when he wasn’t around. Now, whenever we put him to bed, he’d come out of the room and stand at the open door.

Therefore, I stayed on the floor outside his room for half an hour each night. I’d calmly tell him to go back in whenever he came out. Then when I felt he was asleep, I’d leave quietly and go read.

Mostly it was a peaceful time for me. I sat still or laid down and relaxed. I hoped that it was reassuring for him too that I was there. However, once again I fretted about how I should have found a way to handle the transition better. I had no ideas at the time and had come up with some since, like incrementally sawing off the crib legs until he was on the floor and then swapping the mattress. Most of the time Jack would go with the flow, but sometimes he showed resistance to new things.

I rubbed my head. My eyesight had improved, but I was developing a bruise on my forehead.

I became drowsy. I’d been going to bed early recently. I got up and went straight to bed.

* * * *

Monday morning, I arrived at my office before anyone else. Bobbie and Opal, the administrative assistants, usually came in around the official office hours. Earnest, the junior investigator, was often early, but not as prompt as I was.

At first I’d thought that Earnest might be coming in early to impress me. Yet, after a while I began to feel that it wasn’t to influence me but that he was naturally punctual.

I was sorry that I’d never taken Earnest under my wing to show him how to handle unusual cases, such as St. Levi’s. If I had, then I could have sat peacefully in the office while he handled the hard stuff.

However, I didn’t like Earnest. We didn’t get along, but he was good at managing accounts and happy to focus on them. I often left him and Opal undisturbed in their office together so I wouldn’t have to listen to either one of them.

I already had a headache. It must have been a return of the one I got from my accident while playing. I hoped that I wouldn’t have to take time off to see a doctor.

If I ever did have to miss work, no one in the office was ready to take over for me. Previously, on vacations, I’d called in and checked email every day. That made me realize that I needed to start training Earnest.

Opal was near retirement so I wouldn’t gain much by training her, and she still resented that she hadn’t been promoted over me years ago. Bobbie had explicitly told me many times that she had no interest in management. She’d had a few college courses, but wanted to be told what to do. She was good in her role so I let her stay there. Earnest was the only one with the education similar to my own.

When Earnest arrived, I let him work for a couple hours. He had a routine and was more difficult to deal with if I interrupted it. We had a pattern that if I had anything to say to him, I’d come up to him while he was stretching and pacing the office mid-morning.

This case should be an easy one for him. All we had to do was get the people cooled down, and then talk to them separately to get them to listen to reason.

I found some work