Free HIS OTHER SON by MAYNARD SIMS Page A

enough to make what he’s had out of me already look like
pocket change. That keeps my wife alive for another year, without suffering. I
want her to spend some time with Frank.”
                “I
mentioned that this is not about money.”
                Stock
continued as if the other man hadn’t spoken. “You won’t get my granddaughter.
Despite her parentage, and her selfish streak, I am oddly fond of her.”
                “Dr Romodon …”
                Stock
held up his hand. “I’m not naïve enough to believe I’ll have Frank
indefinitely.” He paused while he assessed Simon’s reaction. He could tell
immediately, by the creasing of the skin around his mouth, and the narrowing of
his eyes, that he was right.
                Stock
knew what he had ventured into was as risky as anything he had ever done in his
life. Illegal certainly, but that had never bothered him before. Certain to succeed? Nothing in life was certain, and the
project he had undertaken was more than certain to fail. He had researched many
related subjects before he found the Church. He had been to Haiti, and found
voodoo. He had been to hidden parts of Africa, and seen things done that were
not of this world. Animals had been brought back to life in front of his eyes,
and he had gasped with wonder. When he went back after a few days, to see the
longer term effects of life after death, he had been disappointed on every
occasion. Nothing that had been resurrected remained alive.
                “How
long will I have with him? Be honest with me, at least.”
                Brother
Simon hesitated. He had known, as did Romodon , that this man was not like many they had dealt with. Many
took what they were told at face value. So desperate were they for their loved
ones to be returned to them that they were blinded to reality. Stock was made
of harder material. Perhaps, Romodon had told Simon
one night, perhaps it was because he carried the burden of guilt for his son’s
death. “With all our subjects,” Romodon had said.
“You have to ask yourself, why they want our services. What is it that they hope
to gain?”
                Simon
wondered if what Stock wanted was redemption. Release from twenty years of
painful guilt.
                “Your
wife we can offer no more than six months. I am sorry. Your
son? No more than that. Again I am sorry it cannot be longer.”
                Stock
bowed his head. It was more time that he had expected. More than he needed. “I
accept that. It’s worth it to me. And…it’s been twenty years.”
                Simon
nodded. “The son you receive will be as he was when he passed over. You were
outlining your terms. If we cannot have the girl…”
                “My other son. Raymond. He’s young enough, fit, healthy. Lives an outdoor life, even if he drinks and smokes too much. He won’t fit the same purpose as Paula, but then you never intended for her to
join you did you?”
                  Simon smiled, the flesh of his face creasing
like a well-used bed sheet. “We will have a use for the soul of a healthy
enough man.”
                Stock
smiled. “He’s here tonight. By special invitation.”

 
 
    Phil Ryker looked at his
watch. Anders had been gone a long time. He doubted there had been any trouble
kicking out some well fed socialites taking drugs. Sure, Anders might have
roughed them up a little, but he would have got them out of the house easily
enough. What worried Ryker was whether it had been
done with sufficient discretion.
                He dialled
the number he had on his company cell phone and listened as the voicemail
kicked in for the ninth or tenth time. Anders voice sounded uncertain, as if he
was reciting the simple phrase about leaving a message. Ryker cut the connection without speaking.
                The
party