Whispers
At first glance, the interior of the church appeared to be empty, but that was hardly unusual for a Tuesday afternoon. The secretaries were probably off somewhere on an errand or at lunch, and the pastoral staff were likely doing the same if they weren’t in their offices studying. Since it was the senior pastor he wanted to see, Evan walked directly to his study and knocked. There was no answer.
He peeked through the window in the door and found the study empty. A cursory inspection of the other offices yielded the same result. The fact that the building was unlocked did mean that someone was around, however. He just had to find them.
Most of the remaining rooms in the building were unlit, making a check of those rooms unnecessary. The auditorium was naturally lit, but a brief tour of it proved it to be as empty as the offices. The only room that appeared to have any activity at all was the prayer room. Evan walked up and peered inside.
Immediately, his heartbeat quickened. Though he had half expected it, the man in white was indeed in the room praying. The real surprise, however, was that the man’s arms were across the backs of the pastor and Richard Cade, who appeared to be weeping. If that weren’t odd enough, the stranger’s hat was lying on a nearby chair instead of being worn, as were all three pairs of shoes. It was as if the room itself was Holy Ground. Maybe this man is Moses.
Evan’s upbringing and sense of common courtesy told him to walk away and leave them alone, but this was no common situation for him. Every time he saw the man, he was always gone the second he so much as turned his head or even blinked. There was no other possible exit from that room, so Evan determined not to move until “Mr. White” emerged and at least talked with him.
Twenty minutes later, it became apparent that no one inside the prayer room was planning on moving any time soon. Despite being on their knees for at least that long, they didn’t seem to get tired or sore from it. Feeling himself grow more impatient, he reached for the door handle, stopping just short of touching it.
Where there was just a worn, tarnished look to the handle just minutes before, there was now a whitish, other-worldly sheen to it that brightened even more the closer his hand came to it. Evan’s heart was racing now, but he couldn’t allow himself to back out after having come this far. The explanation for all this was so close he could feel it. He had no choice.
Evan firmly grasped the handle, and instantly a bolt of pure pain shot up his arm and threw him back into the door of the Sunday School room behind him. The door gave way, causing him to fall back all the way to the floor with a loud thud. From his position on the ground, he could barely make out the handle across the hall, its shine fading away into nothing ness, followed by the rest of his surroundings, and finally his consciousness.
When he awoke again, he was still on the floor, but the light was still on in the prayer room, too. His head throbbed, but some Tylenol would cure that. Somewhat shaken, he pulled himself up to his feet and leaned against the doorjamb. He caught a few breaths then sat down in the nearest seat, allowing the door to shut behind him.
Soon after, whether it was seconds or minutes, he wasn’t sure, he heard a door closing across the hall. Ignoring the pain in his hand and now his arm, he sprang up and looked through the door’s window to see the light still on in the prayer room. He could barely move his right arm, so he used his left to open the door so he could exit back into the hallway.
Inside the prayer room, only Richard and the pastor remained. That meant the door closing sound had to have been the very recent departure of the stranger through it. The throbbing pain in his arm was spreading, as was the unsteadiness of his legs, but he pressed forward into his best imitation of a run as he heard to door swinging open and shut at the main entrance. By the time Evan got there himself, he was barely able to stand. After a significant struggle, he made it outside only to find no trace of anyone save himself. He was hardly surprised. A paraplegic could have outrun him.
Another struggle brought him back inside, and by remaining close, personal friends with the walls he was able to make it a few steps at a time back to the prayer room. Without even realizing it, his right hand ended up resting on the same handle that had shocked him earlier, though he doubted he’d have been able to feel a second shock in his state. He leaned onto the handle and pushed the door inward. What he saw sapped any remaining energy he had, and he slumped to his knees, unable to move any further.
The prayer room was unlit, and empty.