Chapter 90: In the net

"We've got 'em!" Snakefoot crowed. "I told you! I knew it would work! Just have to be patient, trust in the Host of Lords!" Glubwart smiled and nodded. Snakefoot would claim all the credit, of course. His years of dogged research would count for nothing.

   Snakefoot dashed to the phone, eager to report the triumph to Screwtape. His reward was a tired, blase, "Well. You found them at last, you sly devil. Congrats. I was just about to the point of sampling your guts. Well, finding them is one thing. Delivering their jewels to the Chief is something else again." Screwtape hung up the phone.

Chapter 89: The root of all evil

"It's pneumonia," Dr. Basmati said. He was a young, very bright physician, second generation son of Indian immigrants. "It's a common problem with conjoined twins -- also more dangerous than for the general population. I'm afraid we'll have to keep them here under observation for a while."

   Mary wasn't about to leave the twins alone in a hospital. It was too far to commute. "Of course we have to find a place here," Joe agreed.

   The problem was money. Marge was willing to help, but she had no bank account and no income. The family reached a hard decision. They would have to split up, at least for a time. Marge would keep Alice in her trailer, and Joe and Mary would find a place to be near the twins.

   There were no jobs. Joe did the best he could to scrounge part-time work. It was barely enough to feed himself and Mary. In spite of help from local churches, the twins' hospital bills soared.

   "We've got to get help," Joe said. Mary agreed. Reluctantly, they turned to the "Two Good Two Be True" foundation.

Chapter 88: Family matters

Winter was coming to the Rockies.
   Joe and Mary took a long stroll in the mountains. Marge was glad to stay home and watch the twins. She had adopted Jerry and Joey as her own.
Mary loved the wild beauty of the rocky winding path. The boulders were many colored. Small rivulets ran down at intervals like tear streaks, gathering into a bubbling stream that made its way down the valley.
They entered a stand of tall evergreens. New fallen snow made the landscape white and beautiful. Mary stopped and took Joe's arm. "I didn't know what it felt like," she said.
   "What what felt like?" Joe blinked
   "To be truly happy." Mary smiled. Her teeth shone white. It started snowing. Delicate flakes fell on the fur hood that ringed her face. Some fell on her eyelashes. Joe realized a great truth -- it is impossible not to fall in love with a girl when her face is ringed in fur and snow is falling. He kissed her tenderly. "Don't you think it's time?" Joe asked. She said, "Yes."

   The wedding was simple; just Joe, Mary, the pastor, the twins, and a beaming Marge.

----

   If there was one thing the twins could agree on, it was that they doted on their baby sister, Alice. Blue-eyes, blonde curly hair and freckles, along with an infectious laugh and nearly constant grin made Alice the darling of the family. It seemed natural that the adorable girl should get most of the attention. Joey was enthralled with her, studying her every action, marveling at her every new discovery. Jerry couldn’t help feeling a little jealous, but he kept his feelings hidden, at least at first.
   The addition to the family did add to the burden, but Mary decided it was still necessary to maintain a low profile, and Joe agreed. They didn't have any way of assessing the nature or the scope of the threat, but they both had come to trust the warnings of their scrawny black prophet.
---
   It was another winter. It seemed it was almost always winter. The twins were having fun playing in the snow. Jerry kept shoving snow down Joey's collar. Joey took it good-naturedly. "Snowman," Joey cried.

   Joey loved winter. Joe started rolling a snowball. "No, Daddy! We do it!" Jerry exclaimed. The twins labored on hands and knees to make a lopsided snow boulder. Once, Joey slipped. Jerry pushed his face into the snow. They started on the next ball, the body of the snowman. When it was finally finished, it was too heavy for them to lift into place. Joe provided the necessary power. A smaller ball formed the head of the snowman. Joey and Jerry found some sticks to make arms. Mary emerged from the trailer and added a walnut for a nose. Some pebbles made the snowman smile. His dark black olive eyes winked merrily. Joe topped it off with a cowboy hat.

   “Yay!” Joey beamed.

   Jerry looked at their creation for a second, then toppled it with a mighty shove, and kicked the fallen snowman into pieces. Joey’s face wrinkled up. He cried. Jerry laughed. Joe had turned away. He was too late to save the snowman. He frowned at Jerry, but said nothing.

    Joey started crying. Jerry pushed his face in the snow and shoved snow all the way down the back of his shirt.
   "Jerry, stop that!" Joe yelled, grabbing Jerry's arm. He pulled both boys upright and shook the snow off them.
   "Better come inside and take a hot bath," Mary called.
   Joey started sneezing and coughing at suppertime. At bedtime, he began running a fever and complained of sore throat. Mary plied him with herbs and ointments from Marge's garden, all to no avail.
   "Baby, baby, baby," Jerry taunted him. Surprisingly, Jerry did not show any symptoms. Before, when one got sick, the other automatically followed.
   Mary fussed over Joey all night long, continually taking his temperature and applying cold compresses and alcohol baths to fight the temperature.
   By morning, Joey showed no improvement. His temperature continued to soar. Mary was getting really alarmed. "We need to get him to a doctor," she told Joe.
   It was a week before the roads were passable. Mary kept giving Joey plenty of liquids. Joey kept coughing up phlegm and looking apologetic. Mary just shushed him and hugged him. Jerry was quiet and frowning. Mary hugged him, too. "It's not your fault," she assured Jerry.
   Marge's idea of "passable": Only six inches of snow covered the road. Only a few scattered flakes were falling. The icy patch that sloped directly to a 200-foot sheer drop had softened just enough to give tires a slight hold.
   Joe and Mary loaded the twins into the car. Marge at first refused to stay behind. "I'm goin'. That's all," she said. But she finally gave in to reason. It made no sense to take little Alice along. Somebody had to stay with the baby. "Dear Lord, please hep us git these young'ns safe," she prayed as the car coughed in the frigid air, then started.

   At first, the going was easy. The snow chains gave a comforting chattering noise as they churned through the snow. The narrow road wound higher and higher toward the pass. It started snowing harder. The snow was getting deeper and deeper. Joe could barely make out the roadway in the world of white. Despite the cold, he was sweating.

   The curve out over the gorge was swept clear of snow by the high winds, but in place of the snow was a sheet of ice. Joe slowed as the chains chewed at the ice, trying to get a grip. The car slid toward the sheer drop to the icy torrent 200 feet below.

   "Dear Lord, you brought us this far. Help us get through this," Joe prayed. The back tires slipped to the very edge of the precipice as Joe turned the wheel cautiously to the left. "We're in Your hands, now," Joe said. His fear suddenly left him. It was up to God. Joe had done all he could do. The next instant the shuddering tires caught hold, and the car rounded the turn. The twins, oblivious to the danger, slept soundly.

   An hour later they finally reached the pass and started down. But the roadway, if anything, was even more treacherous than before. They drove on and on. Joe began to wonder if they had missed a turn in the blinding snow. They should be getting to the valley, but nothing seemed familiar. It was growing dark. "Better stop here for the night," Joe told Mary. "We'll be able to see better tomorrow." His words were confidant, but his voice betrayed doubt. He glanced at Mary. Her face was frozen. "It'll be all right," he said. "Promise."

   It was the longest night either of them had experienced. They were weary, but too nervous to sleep. They bundled up with the twins in a blanket on the backseat.

   Morning dawned bright and clear. The snow had stopped. Joe rubbed his eyes and stared in amazement. Directly in front of them, in plain view, was the turn he had been straining to see all the past night.

Chapter 87: Growing family

The twins were slowly, painfully learning to walk. It took a lot of patience and a lot of cooperation. Jerry was learning to work with his brother, instead of against him. Jerry would struggle to his feet, only to find Joey tangled up with him; down they would both go in a heap.
   Joey and Jerry liked to play with the goats and chickens. Mary watched carefully to make sure the twins were not injured. "They're so cute!" she beamed. Joe nodded. Standing, the twins were as tall as their favorite goat, Matilda. They pulled at her tail, but Matilda didn't seem to mind. She seemed to understand that the twins were special humans who needed her care.
   “I Suwannee,” Marge said. “I never seen no goat take to chillen as that one did to these.”
   Jerry even tried to mount Matilda, but of course it didn’t work; there was no room for Joey. Joe solved the problem by getting another goat. He lifted the twins onto the backs of the goats so they could ride in tandem. It worked perfectly, despite the worried protestations of their mother. The twins giggled and laughed out loud. It was the first time either Mary or Joe had seen Jerry so excited and happy. "Tiiaa," he cried, trying to say the goat's name.

   Marge watched with concern. “Frank died afore we had young’uns of our own,” Marge explained without being asked. She hovered over the twins like a plump mother hen.

   Joey worshipped Jerry, in spite of his twin's rough and sometimes cruel tricks. Anything Jerry did was fine with Joey. Jerry always took the lead in the in the games they played. Their baby babbling was slowly turning into words. The first clear sound Joey made was not "Mama," and not "Da-da." It was "Jerry!"

   A few weeks later, they were all sitting in front of the TV after enjoying Marge’s Southern dinner of fried chicken, mashed potatoes, squash, black-eyed peas and cornbread. There was a show about the daily lives and tribulations of a family of dwarfs, and how they managed living in a world of “big” people.
   Marge became serious and turned to Mary and Joe. “I heered about a group that helps folks with Siarmeses twins,” she said. “I don’t want to butt into yore business, but mebbe they could hep you. Lord knows you could use some hep raisin’ them young’uns.”
---
   When one twin got sick, the other immediately joined in. They were fortunate to be in generally good health, but they frequently had difficulty breathing, especially when they came down with flu or cold.
   “You know,” Mary suddenly said one day, “we really could use some money to help raise these kids -- especially now.”
   “What do you mean?” Joe asked.
   “Now that we’ve got another one coming along,” Mary replied, and winked at Joe.

Chapter 86: Still hope

Hope is a scarce commodity in the Underworld. But Screwtape had reason to hope in the next few weeks. The virus didn’t appear to be spreading out of control. More importantly, Screwtape had not received a call from the Chief. In the Underworld, no news is good news.
   "Miss Caliente," Screwtape said, "Get me Glubwart."

Chapter 85: It's the children

A report landed on Screwtape’s desk. Old school, Screwtape still demanded to see printouts on paper. Apparently a YouTube video was going viral. Screwtape almost threw the thing in the waste basket. This type of thing was happening all the time; why waste my time with it? But then two words caught his eye: “the children.” It seems this video was having an impact on children. He read further, then punched up the video on his own computer.
   It showed a young boy. He was collecting all his toys, video games, phone -- everything he possessed of any value. He was boxing it all up. “Jesus said sell all you have and give it to the poor,” the little boy said. “That’s what I’m doing.” The video went on to show the little fool going from house to house, soliciting similar sacrifices from his neighbors. The wretch’s parents stood beside him, beaming great stupid smiles.
   Screwtape thought he would be violently ill. A few keystrokes told him the bad news. The video was getting millions of hits. “Well, what of it? Just a flash in the pan,” he thought. No way it could catch on. A few might fall for the sentimental hogwash -- but large numbers of idiotic small humans giving up their trinkets to strangers? Never happen. Not in this world or the next. Screwtape felt comforted by the thought.
   The comfort didn’t last long. His Crisis Phone lit up on his desk. “It’s Ratswallow,” Miss Caliente said. Ratswallow was Underlord in charge of Europe. A chill of foreboding went down Screwtape’s spine. Ratswallow was a whiner who never had an optimistic thought. He was the kind of demon who could enjoy the huge success of the amusing incident humans called World War II, and still say, “Yes, but…” Ratswallow was able to deliver millions of goodies to the Chief, but still complain that it wasn’t enough.
   “Put him on,” Screwtape sighed.
   “Have you seen what’s going on?” Ratswallow fairly screamed into Screwtape’s ear.
   “What is it this time?” Screwtape pretended to be unconcerned.
   “What is it? What is it? Armageddon, that’s what it is!” Ratswallow yelled. “Armageddon!”
   “Calm down,” Screwtape said. “Whenever a demon loses one sweet, you always scream Armageddon.”
   “This time it’s for real!” Ratswallow yelled. “Don’t you see what’s going on? It’s the children!”
   Screwtape caught his breath. “What do you mean? Out with it.”
   “It all started in your g-damn country,” Ratswallow said, carefully avoiding the enemy’s name, even in his state of panic. “Now it’s going worldwide! That g-damned video! That g-damned kid! He’s infecting the whole g-damned world!”
   “You’re exaggerrating,” Screwtape insisted.
   “You wish!” Ratswallow thundered. “Kids all over my district are selling their stuff for the poor -- all in the name of the Enemy.”
   “It can’t be all kids. -- And your district isn’t the whole world,” Screwtape interjected.
   “It’s happening all over, I tell you!” Ratswallow whined. “Even in countries with a different view of the Enemy! Even where they have a different name for him! I don’t know what’s going to happen to me -- us!”
   There was nothing more to say. Ratswallow hung up the phone. Screwtape went back to his computer. Ratswallow was exaggerating, but not by much. It seems the g-damned video had indeed infected large parts of the world, even where Internet coverage was lacking. Large numbers of whelps were selling all their belongings. Large numbers, but not all. There was still room for hope.

Chapter 84: Uneasy second thoughts

Screwtape was feeling uneasy. More uneasy than usual. Something was seriously wrong. He could feel it. What could it be? Suddenly he remembered something that idiot Slugthorn had said, moments before being devoured. Some foolishness about the children. What? At the time, Screwtape had completely ignored Slugthorn's screamed words. If he thought about them at all, it was just as the last desperate hope of a doomed demon; anything to delay the inevitable. But what if Slugthorn had really been on to something? That could help explain the trouble he was having with this Mary character and her whelps. He should have pushed the abortion option more forcefully. Screwtape had a sinking feeling in the pit of his cavernous stomach. Mistakes like this got even the most powerful demons obliterated in the most horrifying, torturous death imaginable. Screwtape didn’t have to imagine. He had witnessed several fellow demons go screaming into nothingness. He shivered.

Chapter 83: In the garden

"You gotta baby plants up here," Marge said, as she carefully plucked a weed away from her cherished tomato. "Not like to home in Tennissy. "There, you coulda throwed a bolt on the ground, and up growed a Ford!"
   Marge's spare plot of earth was tightly packed with spinach, leeks, radishes, potatoes, carrots and other assorted vegetables. Her favorite, tomato, had a select spot in the sun, with southern exposure. No space was wasted.
   The twins were already learning to crawl. It was a slow, arduous process. Their little arms and legs kept getting tangled. Joe and Mary tried to coach them, but they had difficulty cooperating. One would try to go forward, the other back. Jerry often screamed in frustration and hit Joey.
   "Here, come git this," Marge said, placing a juicy red raspberry on the ground in front of them. Jerry lurched forward. Joey tried, but couldn't make his limbs work as well as Jerry's. Jerry screamed and hit Joey, dragging him toward the prize. With a great lunge, he finally grabbed the enticing red fruit.
   Joey began to cry. Marge gave him a raspberry too. Jerry immediately snatched it out of Joey's hand.
   "Be nice, share with your brother," Mary said. She took the stolen fruit away from Jerry and handed it back to Joey. Jerry gave her a terrible look of outrage and howled. Joey smiled and gave the raspberry back to Jerry. Jerry greedily wolfed down both berries. Mary disapproved with a "tch...tch." Joe looked at her and shrugged.
    Marge pulled Mary and Joe away to tour the rest of her garden. She was especially proud of her collection of herbs. "Too fur away to the drugstore or doctor," she said. "If you need something in a hurry, here 'tis."
   Just when Mary started wondering what the twins were up to, she heard a menacing clicking sound coming from a bush. She turned, took a few steps toward the sound -- and froze. Inches away from the twins was a coiled rattlesnake, hissing and shaking its rattles. Before she could say, "No, stop!" Jerry leaped forward and scooped up the twins. Marge dispatched the snake with a hoe. "Hmph! First time I seed one inside my fence!" She tried to look matter-of-fact, but she was shaking as hard as Mary.

Chapter 82: Mountain refuge

It was getting dark when they drove up a narrow trail into a gulch. When the road flattened out they came upon a rusty, weatherbeaten trailer too small and insignificant to be called a “mobile home.”
   There was no sign of life. Joe got out of the car, walked up and knocked on the door. Nothing. He waited five minutes and knocked again. Still no answer. He walked around behind the trailer and saw a chainlink fence and a few goats. Walking closer, Joe heard a faint buzz. Something moved behind a low shrub. He was staring at a round shape that he finally recognized as buttocks when the woman stood up.
   She was nearly a perfect sphere; almost as wide as she was tall. When she turned around to face him, he saw that both arms and the exposed portion of her bosom were covered with tattoos.
   “Hi there,” she boomed. “What kin I do fer ye? Sorry I didn’t hear ya.” She pointed to her ears to indicate she was hard of hearing.
   “We’re lookin’ for a place to stay,” Joe answered.
   The woman shook her head. “Nuthin’ around here. Nearest town’s twenty miles away. Nuthin’ there neither.”
   “We’ve got to find something,” Joe said. “I’m with my w…- my girlfriend and babies.”
   Joe led the lady back to the car and introduced Mary and the twins.
   "My God, what happened to this young'n?" The woman asked.
   "There was an accident," Joe said. He thought it best not to go into too much detail.
   “You can stay here,” the lady said without hesitation. “Not much, but then you can see that. My name’s Marge.”
   Marge’s real name was Marjorie Chandler. She was middle-aged with streaks of gray in her brown hair. Originally from south Tennessee, she married a Colorado man she met while working in the post office. “Wanted to get out of that small town and see some snow,” she explained. “Big adventure, I thought. Huh! Some adventure. We got snow, all right. Then Frank died, and left me with all this.” She made a grand, sweeping gesture over her pitifully small plot. “...But it’s home,” she said with a big grin. “No use complainin’. Nobody to hear ya nohow.”
   “Thank you,” Joe said. “We’ll try not be a nuisance.”
   “Stay as long as you want,” Marge said. “I could use a little nuisance. Nobody around here to fight with!”

Chapter 81: Mother vs. mother

Joe, Mary and the twins drove up one winding mountain road after another, passing through ever smaller towns. They felt buried beneath the towering peaks. They drove past a small pond of melted snow. Beyond were blonde boulders. Higher up, in a shaded niche was a patch of last winter's still unmelted snow.
   "Let's get out!" Mary exclaimed. "I want to see it." They left the twins asleep in the car and scrambled up the rough incline. It was farther away than it seemed from the road. After fifteen minutes of exertion, Mary paused and sat on a rock. She looked back apprehensively at the diminutive automobile.
   "Don't worry," Joe said. "They'll be all right. Not much farther."
   After a few more minutes they arrived at the small patch of snow. It was hard and somewhat discolored, but Mary scooped up a handful and made it into a ball. She wrinkled her nose and flung it at Joe. It missed and he laughed and threw one at her. It partly fell apart in midair, showering her with snow particles. After a few more volleys they both had snow in their hair and on their clothes.
   Joe came to her, brushed the snow out of her hair, and fell in love with her. She slipped and fell on the hard snow, grabbing him as she went down. He fell on top of her, laughing.
   Mary gave herself to Joe without reservation. Joe gave himself to Mary completely. He emptied himself into her.

...
   Suddenly Mary knew, as only a mother can know, that something was wrong. Her head snapped around toward the car. There was a big brown object approaching the car, menacing. Mary leaped to her feet and screamed at the top of her voice. The grizzly started pounding on the window of the car, trying to get at the helpless infants. In the next instant the hungry bear stood up, puzzled at the sight of a completely naked Mary flying over patches of grass and moss-covered boulders, screaming and waving her arms, her feet barely seeming to touch the ground. The big mother bear roared in amazement and opened her jaws wide, her teeth gleaming. Mary roared even louder, rushing straight for the towering threat. Mother confronted mother for an interminable instant. Finally, the giant bear shrugged, turned and ambled away. Mary stood shaking, but not from cold. Joe, running as fast as he could, came in second. He arrived in time to see the bear withdraw.

Chapter 80: Produce or perish

Screwtape sat alone in his cavernous office. He hadn't heard from the Chief in days. Not that that was unusual. The Chief rarely communicated with upper devils, not even heads of large districts like Screwtape. This Mary case had Screwtape seriously worried. He was beginning to suspect that the Chief was taking a personal interest in the case -- maybe even actively involved. What if Screwtape were, unknowingly, working at odds to the Chief's wishes?
   "We're pretty much on our own," Screwtape mused. "Eat or be eaten. Give the Chief his sweets or face the consequences, without warning. One moment, you're a fat and happy demon, the next you find yourself in his talons, your head rolling around in his stomach. No yearly evaluation, no guidance on how to improve one's output -- just instant judgment. Where did he learn his management skills?" Screwtape thought disrespectfully. He shivered, suddenly fearing his thoughts might be monitored.
   Whenever he felt afraid, Screwtape became enraged, violent. He picked up the phone. "Get me Snakefoot," he barked to Miss Caliente. Seconds later Snakefoot was on the line.
   "Yes?" Snakefoot said, fearing the worst.
   "The Chief and I are very dissatisfied with you -- VERY dissatisfied," Screwtape said. Snakefoot was silent. "Nothing to say for yourself? Well there's nothing to say, is there? You bungled an important assignment. You know the punishment for failure." Screwtape let the threat hang in the air.
   Finally, Snakefoot found the courage to speak. "We...we have a plan."
   "We?" Screwtape asked.
   "I'm working with Glubwart," Snakefoot said, hoping to share some of the blame.
   Screwtape snorted. "Two headfarts are better than one, is that it?"
   "We're going to establish a foundation," Snakefoot said. "...to aid caregivers with the difficulties of dealing with conjoined twins. Get them to come to us. The Enemy has built an impenetrable wall around them. We hope to entice them to come out."
   Screwtape snorted again. "Hope in one hand and shit in the other. See which one fills up first." Secretly, though, Screwtape was impressed. He decided not to summon Snakefoot to his demise. Let this play out; give it a little time. "The clock is ticking," he finally said. I'd better see some results -- soon!"

Chapter 79: Searching for sanctuary

Joe, Mary and the twins headed northwest on 287. Joe and Mary sat in front. The twins' special car seat took up most of the back.
   "I remember taking trips with Mom and Dad," Joe said. "Sometimes I slept on the transmission hump in the back, sometimes on the narrow shelf behind the back seats. I loved to look up at the stars through the back window. I guess it was dangerous -- probably wouldn't be allowed today. Anyway, I loved to look up at the stars and dream of going there. The funny things kids think about. I wonder what JJ is thinking about."
   "Don't call them that," Mary protested. "They're not one person -- they're individuals."
   "Tell me about it. I didn't know twins could be so different. Joey is so quiet and nice, and Jerry is so -- well, you know."
   "They've been through a lot," Mary said. "They're going to have a hard life; a lot of adjustments to make; a lot of compromises." Mary suddenly sobbed and shook. Her body doubled over in agony. "So unfair," she finally managed to say between new bursts of sobs.
   It was a long drive. Jerry was constantly screaming and punching Joey. Mary tried as best she could to keep the peace. Changing two sets of diapers and feeding two hungry mouths took a toll on her. They had to make frequent stops. They passed Wichita Falls and Amarillo. They drove until they were all weary, and stopped in an inexpensive motel on the outskirts of Pueblo.
   They were too tired to think. They went straight to bed and fell into dreamless sleep. Mary was spared the terrors of demon-haunted nightmares.
---
   They had been driving without a plan, just headed in the general direction of mountains. In the morning, at breakfast, Joe decided it was time to be a little more concrete. "Where to now?" He asked.
   Mary shrugged. "He said God would guide us. I've never been religious. I don't know God. I don't where he wants us to go; don't feel anything."
   "Well, we need to decide -- big city, small city, no city. Big cities are expensive. Nosy media. We need to stay low. Don't want to attract a lot of attention. On the other hand, in little towns, everybody knows everybody. Everybody talks."
   "Maybe no city, then," Mary said. "Find something away from everything."
   "It's agreed, then," Joe said.
   They left the interstate and headed up into the mountains. Soon they were snaking their way up a steep valley; grey granite walls towering over sharp curves. Far below the roadway a clear stream foamed and rushed over rocks.
  They stopped to eat sandwiches at a turnout space just big enough for one car carved out of the rock face. With some difficulty, they extracted the twins from their seat and crossed the road. There was no traffic. They sat down on some rocks overlooking the fast-flowing stream.
   "It's so beautiful," Mary gushed, looking up at the rugged cliffs and the snowy white clouds brushing the tops; dazzling blue sky above. Down below, the crystal-clear stream gurgled merrily. "Never saw anything like this in Alabama."
   "We've got Little River Canyon." Joe felt compelled to defend his home state.
   "Never saw it," Mary said. "We never took any trips."
   "Of course, it's not quite as grand as this," Joe had to admit.
   "I always dreamed of getting away -- seein' the world. And now -- now we can't really enjoy it."
   "Who could want to harm the twins?" Joe asked.
   "I don't know. -- But I feel the little old man knows something. What he says feels true. I've been feeling the same thing in my dreams. Something or someone chasing me; I've got to protect a treasure. Well, now I have two treasures. And I'm not going to let anything happen to them."

Chapter 78: Search goes on

Glubwart and Snakefoot decided to start at square one. That meant duplicating efforts already undertaken by their overlings, but they were determined to leave nothing to chance. The miserable duffers couldn't be trusted. So they started checking apartments near the hospital. "Have you seen a young couple with a child? Or twins? Anything unusual? Have you heard anyone talking?" No one had heard or seen anything unusual. They certainly would have noticed conjoined twins -- "that's very unusual, isn't it?" "Yes, ma'am, that's very unusual."
   Glubwart and Snakefoot expanded their search to shopping malls, grocery stores, police stations, hospitals, clinics, daycare facilities, babysitting services, frequently changing their appearances. Sometimes they posed as police, sometimes as salesmen, utility repairmen, home security system representatives, evangelists, reporters.
   They canvassed the entire city, neighborhood by neighborhood. It was as if the pair and their whelps never existed; an entire city with collective amnesia. Brain-browsing was useless; these brains were empty -- nothing about a young girl and boy with unusual offspring. Glubwart and Snakefoot could feel Screwtape's fearsome breath on their necks.
   "Time to try a different tack," Snakefoot said. "Let them come to us. They need money. Taking care of that monster is expensive."
   Glubwart was interested.
   "Set up a foundation for conjoined twins -- any care they need -- at no cost to the caregivers."
   Glubwart was impressed. He hated to admit it was a good idea, and fumed that he had not thought of it. "Hmmm. Might work," he said. "Worth a try."

Chapter 77: Packing

"Everything packed?" Mary asked. They were embarking on a journey of faith into the unknown. Mary had become a seamstress out of necessity. Pants were not a problem, but she had to sew garments to cover the two dear joined torsos.
   "It's all here," Joe answered. They threw everything into Joe's car. There was no emotional parting with their drab apartment. Joe helped Mary secure the twins in their car seat. There were no car seats for conjoined twins available on the market, and they could not afford to have one custom made, so Joe built one out of PVC and plywood, lined with foam rubber and soft linens. For once, he was glad to be the son of a hardware store owner. He knew a little something about construction.
   Joe pulled out of the apartment complex parking lot and looked at Mary, then the twins. It felt like a real family. Catching his eyes and reading his mind, Mary wrinkled her nose and whined, "Are we there yet?"
   "Pipe down back there, or I'll have to separate y...," he said with pretend anger. He stopped when he saw the mortified look on Mary's face. His expression changed from embarrassment to serious. "We might as well face it, dear," he said. If I can make a comment like that by accident, you know what we can expect from family, friends and strangers. We might as well laugh at ourselves before they do; best way to defuse nasty talk." Mary blinked away a tear and nodded. Joey laughed. Jerry punched him in the face.

Chapter 76: Warned to leave

"We can't separate them," Mary said suddenly. They were sitting at home watching TV. "I can't take the risk." Joe just nodded.
   They were startled by a knock at the door. Joe went to open it.
   "Take the infant and leave," said the skinny black man with the salt and pepper goatee. "There is still danger!"
   "But we have two," Mary interjected. She had followed Joe to the door and stood behind him.
   "Protect Him, Him!" the crier insisted.
   "But where should we go?" Joe asked.
   The old man didn't answer. He turned to go.
   "Wait! Who are you?" Mary demanded. "What have you got to do with us? Who is trying to harm our children? Why should we listen to you?"
   The old man turned back and said, "Because you know. Listen to your heart. Have faith. God will lead you." Mary reached for his arm, but the old man turned and walked away.
   "Well, I guess we'd better pack," Joe said with a rueful smile. Joe and Mary looked at one another for a long time. It was as if they were seeing each other for the first time.
   "Just pack up and go, on the word of a scrawny man?" she asked with a wrinkled nose.
   "I came this far on his word. So did you." Mary looked deep into Joe's eyes. She leaned in, put her hands on his arms, and kissed him.
   "I've always dreamed of going to the mountains," she said. "I like snow. It's so clean and makes everything beautiful. We hardly ever got snow in Alabama."
   "The mountains it is." Joe smiled brightly and returned the kiss.

Chapter 75: Phone home

"I've got to call my mom," Mary suddenly said.
   "What in God's name for?" Joe asked.
   "I just have to. Something has happened."
   "What? What happened?" Joe asked. The tone of Mary's voice made him suddenly afraid.
   Seeing his face, Mary said, "Don't worry. Nothing bad. Something good. I just want to tell her about it."
   Joe was still not assured, but he shrugged his shoulders and nodded briefly. "If you must, you must," he said.
   It wasn't easy getting through. Her mother's phone had been disconnected a number of times, and had been changed. Finally, though Mary got the number from the local police, who had been called out to the house several times for disturbance of the peace and domestic violence.
   Mary had thought she would be terrified speaking to her mother after all the years, all the trouble. But she was surprisingly calm. "Hello, Mom," she said matter of factly, when the rasping, smoke-hardened voice came on the line.
   It was her mother who was stunned, off balance. "Mary?" She asked incredulously?
   "A lot has happened, Mom," Mary said. "I won't bore you with the details. Dad came to see me a few days ago."
   "Impossible."
   "He told me he had to leave. He told me to keep my family together."
   "Family? What family?"
   "A long story. I just wanted to know more about Dad. -- And you."
   "Your father is dead. Drank himself to death." Mary's mother hung up the phone.

Chapter 74: Uneasy alliance

   News item -- An early morning fire destroyed the Home for the Homeless mission of Brother Ruben Holloway, claiming 36 lives. Authorities have been unable to determine the source of the mysterious blaze, which swept rapidly through the structure. It is not known if Holloway, a recent arrival to the city, was in the mission at the time. Identification of victims is almost impossible, since many were undocumented, and the bodies were completely consumed by the intense heat. "It's very strange," fire marshal Steve Miller said. "This was far hotter than most residential fires. It makes the investigation very difficult." Miller said arson had not been ruled out, but added there was no obvious motive. No insurance claim has been filed, and there is no trace of an accelerant, Miller said.
---
   Glubwart was growing increasingly impatient with his minions' inability to find the slut and her protector. He finally decided to swallow his pride and do the unthinkable. Making sure he was not being followed, he made the trek in the blackest night through squalid, narrow streets lined with cast off bits of human debris. Turning down an alleyway filled with garbage, he avoided the humans sleeping in the garbage, lept on top of a dumpster and then lept again to grasp the lower rung of a fire escape. He made his way up the fire escape and crawled through a window.
   Snakefoot was surprised to see him.
   "Straight to the point," Glubwart said. "We don't like each other. Both of our heads are on the chopping block. We're not having any success finding her." Glubwart gave an impatient wave of his hand when Snakefoot tried to interrupt. "No use denying it. -- If you had found her, you wouldn't still be here. We might as well work together."
   Snakefoot gave a wry smile and a brief nod.
   "I know what you're thinking. You will try to betray me to Screwtape and take the credit -- and let me take your place inside his gut..." Snakefoot and Glubwart both trembled at the thought of Screwtape's long, gleaming, razor-sharp teeth. "...But I'll be watching you. I'll be sticking closer than sin on a TV evangelist." Glubwart's jest made Snakefoot smile a little broader and eased the tension somewhat. But they both knew this alliance of convenience would not lead to anything resembling trust between them.
   When Glubwart left Snakefoot's nest, the cautious, wary demon did not notice a funny little black man hiding in the shadows.

Chapter 73: Family matters

One night at supper, Mary turned to Joe and said, "Why don't we go on a picnic?" Joe felt a sudden surge of hope. It was the first time Mary had suggested any social event since they had been living under the same roof.
   "Sure." He smiled broadly, then dimmed it a bit. "What do you want to take?"
   "I'll make some sandwiches and potato salad."
   "Fine. We'll need some iced tea and potato chips."
   Mary wrinkled her nose. "Potato salad AND potato chips?"
   "Oh yeah. Wasn't thinking."
   Mary smiled. "It'll be fun."
   "We can go Sunday," Joe said. "-- after church."
   Mary was surprised. "You want to go to church?"
   "Yes."
   "Why now?"
   "I just have a feeling. Something to tell you."
   Mary had never been inside a church in her life, not counting the chapel at Brother Glubwart's home for the homeless. She felt a little intimidated and yet comforted at the same time -- comforted that Joe wanted to go. He had always gone with his family. Maybe this would lead him back to familiar foundations and them both to something more solid.
    The church was big and imposing. Granite columns seemed to reach to the sky. Mary and Joe entered. A large, red-faced man greeted them warmly. "Welcome to our place of worship," he said. "We hope you will make this your new home. We want you to consider us your friends."
   Joe and Mary entered the cavernous sanctuary. A friendly usher helped them find a place in a pew, and handed them guest cards to fill out.
   Mary marveled at the towering pipes of the organ, the brightly varnished choir loft and pulpits. To Joe, it was nothing new.
   She jumped when the organ burst into life, thundering, "A Mighty Fortress is Our God." The congregation rose to its feet and began singing. Mary looked left and right. Joe started getting to his feet, so she followed. She looked around helplessly. Joe handed her a hymnal and pointed to the page number listed in the church bulletin. Mary read and listened,
"The prince of darkness grim,
We tremble not for him.
His rage we can endure,
For lo, his doom is sure.
One little word shall fell him."
    After the hymn, a tall, broad-shouldered man with graying temples and wearing a large black robe stepped to the pulpit.
   “Mary!” he said.
   Mary jumped. He was looking straight at her. She opened her mouth, but then he looked away. “Mary had a problem. A problem not unlike that facing many young women in our day. She was pregnant, and she didn’t know who the father was. That is, she knew, but no one believed her. She had never been with a man, you see. Tell me, what would people say today, to a girl with child, who said she had never been with a man? You know what they would say. And they would probably be right. But in Mary’s case, they were not right.
   “What about Mary’s fiance? How do you think he felt? Betrayed? Embarrassed? Humiliated? What do you think his friends said to him? But God sent an angel to Joseph in a dream. The angel told Joseph, ‘Don’t be afraid. Take her home with you as your wife.’ How many men, do you think, would believe a dream like that? But Joseph did.
   “Now, what do you suppose a young couple would be advised to do today, if they found themselves in the situation that Joseph and Mary were in? ‘Get rid of it! Don’t be insane! Do it quietly. You are poor. You can’t afford to raise a child. It’s your own body. You can choose.’”
   The minister paused and raised himself even more erect. He looked into the eyes of everyone in the congregation, but Mary felt as if he were looking only at her. He stretched out his arm and pointed. “If Mary had listened to that advice, there would be no Jesus. There would be no salvation. You and I would be damned -- DAMNED for our sins, and no one to save us! How many potential saviors have we murdered in this age? How many healers, physicians, inventors -- peacemakers? How many diseases could they have cured? How many inventions to benefit mankind could they have created? How many wars might they have stopped? Lord, we need peacemakers now, more than ever!”
   The minister’s tone changed. Quietly, he said, “King Herod was smart -- terribly, horribly, wickedly smart. He didn’t want a rival to his throne. He ordered all the male children under two years of age to be murdered.” The minister sighed and hung his head for a long moment. There were audible sobs in the congregation. Then he raised his tear-stained face and shouted, “But Herod was a piker! Compared to our generation, he was merciful! He ONLY killed a few thousand innocent babies. We have murdered MILLIONS! And the slaughter goes on, relentlessly, unstoppable! More are being murdered even as I speak!" The minister lowered his voice. "‘It’s just a blob of cells,’ they say.” The minister turned his head. His lips were grim and tight, his eyes glared. “I defy anyone to look at an ultrasound of a six-week-old infant and tell me it’s not a baby. ‘It’s my own body,’ they say. ‘My choice. It’s all about ME and MY wants.’ God forgive their cynical self-centeredness. But how CAN God forgive US, as we allow the slaughter to go on and on and on?
   “Please turn your hymnals to page 463 and join me in singing, ‘Amazing Grace.’ -- Amazing grace -- that saved a wretch like ME.”
   On the way home, they were silent. Joe and Mary carried the twins between them, hugging them close. It was Joe who finally broke the silence. "He was talking about us." Mary just nodded. "We did the right thing." Mary nodded.
   They walked on for a long time. Then Joe said, "I was going to wait until the picnic. But I want to tell you now: The reason I went away -- actually I didn't go -- I was arrested." Mary gasped and looked at him. "It's true. My parents had reported me to the police. They took me back home. They were watching me every minute. To be honest -- I want to always be honest from now on -- I didn't make a serious effort to come back to you. But then, one day I was sitting on the porch when a funny little black man with a scrawny goatee strolled up. He looked me right in the eye and said, "What are you doing here? Go to her; she needs you."
   Mary was stunned. "A skinny, funny black man?"
   "Yes. Why?"
   "I saw him too. He told me to protect him."
   "Him?"
   "Yes. I don't know how he knew I was pregnant. And if he knew I was pregnant, why didn't he know there were two?"
   Joe and Mary pondered mysteries of their lives as they walked on home. Mary packed their picnic in a cooler. For once, Jerry and Joey slept soundly throughout the warm summer afternoon.
   Joe took a bite of sandwich and watched Mary watching the twins. He felt a strange stirring; a feeling he had never felt before. He wanted to protect this family. Coming back had not been a choice, it had been a necessity. The power of the little black man's message had been impossible to ignore. But now, Joe was beginning to feel that he belonged to this family. What had been a necessity was becoming a desire. Mary caught his gaze and smiled.
   On the way home, Mary pushed her twins in a stroller. Joe put his arm around her waist. She leaned into him.