Prodigal Son

put into words a key element of Father Duchaine's moral dilemma. He had no answer. Instead of replying, he ate more sugar-fried pecans.

CHAPTER 79
        
        IN THE BACK OF the bedroom closet, Harker had broken through the lath and plaster. He had reconfigured the studs and cats to allow easy passage to the space beyond.
        Leading Carson, Michael, and Frye through the wall, the young tech said, "This building was at one time commercial on the ground floor, offices in the upper three, and it had an attic for tenant storage."
        On the other side of the wall were rising steps-wood, worn, creaky.
        As he led them upward, the tech said, "When they converted to apartments, they closed off the attic. Harker somehow found out it was here. He made it into his go-nuts room."
        In the high redoubt, two bare bulbs hanging on cords from the ridge beam shed a dusty yellow light.
        Three large gray moths swooped under and around the bulbs. Their shadows swelled, shrank, and swelled again across the finished floor, the finished walls, and the open-rafter ceiling.
        A chair and a folding table that served as a desk were the only pieces of furniture. Books were stacked on the table, also here and there on the floor.
        An enormous homemade light box covered two-thirds of the north wall and provided backlighting for dozens of X-ray images: various grinning skulls from various angles, chests, pelvises, spines, limbs…
        Scanning this macabre gallery, Michael said, "I thought when you went through the back of a wardrobe, you came out in the magical land of Narnia. Must've taken a wrong turn."
        In the northwest corner stood a three-way mirror with a gilded frame. On the floor in front of the mirror lay a white bath mat.
        Treading on fleeting phantoms of moths, serving as a screen for projections of their flight, Carson passed the mirror and crossed the room to a different display that covered the south wall from corner to corner, floor to ceiling.
        Harker had stapled to the drywall a collage of religious images: Christ on the cross, Christ revealing His sacred heart, the Virgin Mary; Buddha; Ahura Mazda; from the Hindu faith, the goddesses Kali and Parvati and Chandi, the gods Vishnu and Doma and Varuna; Quan Yin, the Queen of Heaven and goddess of compassion; Egyptian gods Anubis, Horus, Amen-Ra…
        Bewildered, Frye asked, "What is all this?"
        "He's crying out," Carson said.
        "Crying out for what?"
        "Meaning. Purpose. Hope."
        "Why?" Frye wondered. "He had a job, and with benefits that don't get much better."

CHAPTER 80
        
        RANDAL SIX STANDS motionless at the threshold of the next room for so long, so tensely, that his legs begin to ache.
        The New Race does not easily fatigue. This is Randal Six's first experience with muscle cramps. They burn so intensely that at last he takes advantage of his ability to block pain at will.
        He has no watch. He has never before needed one. He estimates that he has stood, riveted by his predicament, in this same spot for perhaps three hours.
        Predicament is a woefully inadequate word. The correct one has fewer letters and stronger meaning: plight.
        Although he has spared himself physical agony, he cannot escape mental anguish. He despises himself for his inadequacies.
        At least he has stopped weeping. Long ago. Gradually his impatience with himself darkens into an intense anger at Arnie O'Connor. If not for Arnie, Randal Six would not be in this plight.
        If ever he reaches the O'Connor boy, he will get the secret of happiness from him. Then he will make Arnie pay dearly for all this suffering.
        Randal is also plagued by anxiety. Periodically his two hearts race, pounding with such terror that sweat pours from him and his vision becomes blood-dimmed.
        He fears that Father will discover him missing and will set out in search of him. Or perhaps Father will finish his current work and leave for the night, whereupon he will find Randal standing here in autistic indecision.
        He will be led back to the spinning rack and secured upon it in a cruciform. The rubber wedge, secured by chinstrap, will be inserted between his teeth.
        Although he has never seen Father in a rage, he has heard others speak of the maker's wrath. There is no hiding from him and no mercy for the object of his