in her eyes. Her mouth moved as she looked at
Dakota.
Ah, yes, coming for you
next! Merry Christmas, Lieutenant Marin!
Dakota jumped to her feet. She needed
help from the county guys! But they were too far away, they were
running between the bar and the accident scene and she was in a
graveyard in the dark with a man who had been mesmerized by what he
saw as a sin in his past.
She felt the butane and the lighter in
her pocket.
Not enough for a giant
tree that was hundreds of years old.
And yet, she had nothing else. She ran
to the tree as fast as she could go. She shot butane over a low
hanging branch. Her fingers shook so badly she nearly dropped the
lighter. Finally, flame shot out. She glanced back. Declan was
almost to the woman; the woman was reaching out for him.
At last, one of the branches caught
flame.
She heard a scream; she looked back.
The woman/child thing was changing again. She looked like an out of
sync holograph, becoming a child again, a woman, another
woman...
And Declan had stopped moving; he
stood there, paralyzed, staring.
Dakota squirted the contents of the
butane with great effort, running the flame of the lighter under
the branches of the tree with all her effort.
She looked back.
The thing was
then moving toward Declan. She wasn’t getting it to burn hard
enough or fast enough.
She remembered the diary.
“ Dear God in Heaven,
help!” she cried.
And then, she thought, there were
miracles. She saw Pastor Frank, first. He was running toward her
with something in his hands... a torch! A burning torch. And there
were others... the two missing officers from her own office, Mrs.
Villiers, who ran the local coffee shop, Jerry Tremaine, a teacher
at the high school...
They were all bringing fire! And they
were singing! They were singing Christmas carols at the top of
their lungs.
There was a host of people next to
her. And, at last, the tree was ablaze.
Burning in the night. The heat was
searing against her flesh. It was insane...
She turned. Pastor Frank took her into
his arms, blessing her. County people were suddenly flooding
around, too, trying to figure out what the hell had
happened.
And then, looking at her with
disbelief—as if she had dropped out of the skies from a shooting
star—was Declan. He was shocked at first. And then he was trembling
as he looked at her and said, “I told you that there were devils in
the woods. And somehow, you saved me. I always thought I had to be
here, to save others from the devils. But... you saved
me.”
*
There were times in the days that
followed that she wondered if she’d been crazy herself.
The town had remained a mess. Their
giant Christmas tree had gone up in the explosion with the
car.
People had been killed at the bar;
people who had been beloved.
The church was a mess...
And yet, in the days that followed,
the church was cleaned up. A new tree was obtained—as well as a new
Nativity scene.
The dead were buried and
mourned.
By order of the mayor, they waited
until county had done all that could be done to investigate the
murders, and then the roots of the hanging tree were dug up and
burned to cinders as well.
It was very strange.
The pastor said a lot of
prayers.
The murders never would be solved;
they would become part of the legend of the town.
That wouldn’t matter; she and Declan
wouldn’t be there.
It was on Christmas Day that he came
to her, knelt down before her, and told her that he had buried the
past. He’d like a future. He’d been given a nice offer over in St.
Augustine.
“ Does that mean you want
me to... come with you?” she asked.
And his smile gave her the answer she
realized she’d wanted. So, they would go together. Now, he could
leave the town. The next captain would not be so
plagued.
They stood with the town at ceremonies
at the church that night. They sang Christmas carols. Happy
ones.
And they watched the display of
fireworks over the square, fireworks that lighted up
Janwillem van de Wetering