The Disappearance of a Pied Piper

Town Meeting

In about ten minutes the group had found places to sit in Freshly Diner, and Pa Freshly had already started serving pecan pie, and cups of coffee.

"Everybody still breathing?" Chief Bud Best made his best attempt at humor to keep things light under the circumstances.

Weak smiles all around. "Our kids are gone, and you're making jokes?"

"I mean no disrespect, Grady," Bud said. "You know my kids are gone, too. I need to laugh for a moment. If I start crying, then I'm not going to do anybody any good."

"Alright. We're here for our town meeting," said Bubba John Trax. "What's our next move?"

"Thanks for the intro, Bubba John. I need to hear your stories one at a time. We need to write down the facts, and see if there is a pattern to what has happened."

"Can I go, first?" Bubba John blurted out, "I'm 'bout to bust to say something."

"By all means, Bubba John," Bud said, "What'd you have on your mind?"

"This morning, I woke up at about six o'clock, got some coffee, and went to check on the kids. I didn't want to wake 'em up, so I went quietly into John, Jr's room. I was surprised to see the bed look really flat in the dim light rather than being filled with my number-one son. I pulled back the covers and his pajamas were in the shape of John, Jr. asleep, but he wasn't there."

"Did you happen to check to see if his underwear was still in the pajama bottoms?" Bud asked.

"That seems rather personal, but no. Why'd you ask?" Bubba John said.

"I had the exact same experience, that you did, only mine was around 5:00 this morning," Bud said. "First of all, I thought Jeff was playing a trick on me, and hiding somewhere, wearing only his underwear, but I checked the pajama bottoms, and his underwear was still there. I called out to him, starting to get angry, that he was running around in the buff. Every time I called out, I only got silence. I went to Rolly's room with the same results, but still, I thought they might be trying to play some weird game together in the nude. I called out but got silence in response. Finally, when I went into my baby girl, Jewel's room, and got the exact same results, I stopped thinking it was a game."

"We're all the same as you, Chief," the group said in chorus. "How do we find our kids?"

"That's just it," Bud said, "I don't know. That doesn't mean I've given up. It just means that I had to sit down in my office and have a good cry. Have any of you done that, yet?"

"Not really," said Lem Cutter. "We're focused on getting our kids back, aren't you?"

"Lem, I'm all about getting my kids back, but if I didn't grieve for a few minutes, my emotions would cloud my judgment. We need to think clearly if we are ever going to have any chance of getting our kids back."

"What's the plan, Bud?"

"Let's start with what we know. Raise your hands if your experience today is anything like mine and Bubba John's."

All hands went up, except for Pa Freshly, whose kids were all grown.

"First thing we need to do is to take attendance," Bud said, "which, sadly, in the case of the kids will be the absence. One at a time, I need one parent from each family to tell us your family name, and the names of your missing children. This is a formality because we are doing this for record-keeping purposes. I'll go first to be the example. Our family's name is Best. We have three children, Jeff, Rolly, and Jewel. You want to go next, Grady?"

"Sure do. Our family's name is Barnes. We have two boys, Billy and Patrick."

"You want to be next, Bubba John?"

"Absolutely. Our family's name is Trax. We have two boys and a girl, John, Jr., Sammy, and Sissy Jane."

"Who's next?"

"I'd like to go next, Bud."

"Alright, Lem. Go ahead."

"Our family's name is Cutter. We have two daughters, Cloe & Zoe."

"Remember, just raise your name to be recognized," Bud said. "The first hand I see, I'll call on you to go next. I see you, Calvin. Go ahead."

"Our family's name is Tulip. We have one son, Jacob."

"Yes, Myrtle. Go ahead."

"Our family's name is Haymaker. We have one grandson and one granddaughter, Eustace, and Begonia."

"Yes, Liam. Go ahead."

"Our family's name is Painter. We have two girls and a boy, Leslie, Linda, and Leon."

"Yes, Pace. Go ahead."

"Our family's name is Kerr. We have a boy and a girl, Darius and Liesha."

"Yes, Altimus. Go ahead."

"Our family's name is Gonzalez. We have un hijo and una hija, Lazaro y María."

"I think we have one more hand. Yes, Israel. Go ahead."

"Our family's name is Incarnacion. We have one daughter, una hijita, Samuelita. She is tres años (three years old.)

"Okay. Anybody else," the Chief paused to wait. "Apparently not. Has anybody been taking a written count of the families and the children involved in this mystery?"

"I have, Chief," Grady said.

"So how many families are listed for the records? I counted about 9 or 10."

"Dead on, Chief," Grady said. "Ten families in our little borough of Fairly Same have lost one or more children."

"Excellent work, Grady," Bud said, "and how many children are missing all told?"

"We're missing 21 children, Chief."

"Very good. We have to start with the facts, everyone," Bud said. "We all have many questions, right now, and relatively no answers. Yet, with the facts we do know, we have laid a firm foundation for this investigation. Anybody need a warm-up on the coffee?"

Hands went up all over the diner.

"Pa, are you getting this?"

"I'm on it," Pa said with a toothy grin.

"The next question we need to address has to do with the preacher, Jim Book," Bud said. "Did your kids go to Preacher Book's Sunday services?"

"Every Sunday," the group said pretty much in unison.

"How did you feel about the preacher?" Bud asked.

"Well, I don't believe in God, but the preacher seems to be a pretty nice fellow," said Grady, "and you can't beat the fact, that half of the morning every Sunday, I get some much-needed peace and quiet."

"I'll agree to that," said Lem.

"Me, too," said Myrtle.

"How many agree with these three," Bud asked.

Every hand went up.

"Is there anything, that has consistently given you pause about Preacher Jim?" Bud asked and waited.

"Jim teaches what appears to me to be fairly tales," said Israel. "I don't believe in God, but the preacher talks to the kids like such a thing is real."

"Yeah," said Altimus. "Lazaro y María came home one Sunday in tears because He kept saying, 'You must be born again.' 'What does it mean to be 'born again,' Daddy? We're scared. What if we miss Heaven because we're not 'born again'? How do I answer their fears, since there's no such thing as God?"

"Would any of you consider this to be child abuse?" asked Bud. "I plan to visit the church and parsonage when we break up this meeting, and I want to make sure I have my facts straight. If there are any legal accusations, then it's my job to confront him with them and arrest him for further questioning. I can only hold him overnight without something solid. Do any of you have anything solid?"

"I'm not sure if this is something solid," said Bubba John, "but recently my kids have started asking me to 'get saved' every night at supper. Is brainwashing a criminal act?"

"Not according to any statute I am aware of," said Bud. "People all over the world believe in all kinds of gods. Free speech is still, at least, countenanced in all first-world countries to date, but if Jim has touched any of your children in an inappropriate way, then that would be something solid for me to follow up on."

Silence.

"Nobody has anything solid of a legal nature for me to confront the preacher with?" Bud asked.

"I'd like to help you, Chief," said Grady, "especially since I don't like the fact, that our kids wholly believe in God when none of the parents do, but I got nothing. He keeps a professional distance from what I've seen, and the kids have said the same. He may give a handshake or a fist bump, but that's about it. Occasionally, he might allow a side hug, if a child is emotionally distraught about something, but nothing more."

"That's right," said Calvin. "He told me, that he was married once, but his wife died in childbirth. Because of that event, he told me, that he has 'a real heart for children, and I try to reach every one of them with The Gospel of Jesus Christ.' Whatever that is."

"Okay. I've got it," Bud said. "We're got a preacher, who's living clean while teaching against what we all know to be true. Is that about it?"

"Yeah!" the group said in chorus.

"Sounds a little fishy to me. I'll let you know how it goes."

"Great!" said Grady.

"Anybody got anything else to declare?" Bud asked.

All heads shake "No."

"Then, we are dismissed. Y'all don't have to leave just yet. Talk. Enjoy your food and coffee, but I have to go pay the preacher a visit." Already standing to address to crowd, Chief Bud Best strode to the door, resolutely.

If I find so much as a crumb of evidence against that preacher, I'm going to throw the book at him, Bud thought. I'll put him in solitary, and what God is going to get him out of that?

The drive was a little longer out to the church than his drive home because the townspeople had relegated the church to the back part of the woods. Nobody here believes in God. Why do we need a church building? he thought. Oh, well. We've done this in order to appear to be broad-minded at least.

The dirt road, that led to the church, widened out into a clearing for the last quarter-mile of the way. Nobody's stirring on the property. Maybe he hasn't seen me coming, yet. Pulling into the parking space next to the preacher's car, Bud shut off the motor and stepped out to listen.

"Jim. It's Bud. Are you here?" he shouted.

Silence.

He walked up the five steps to the porch in front of the door. He knocked but soon realized there was no need. He opened the door and walked in. The auditorium showed itself to be immaculately clean in every way. Not one piece of paper anywhere. Not one shred of dust on anything. Two rows of hard wooden benches lined a center aisle. Two books were in every bookholder on the backs of each of the benches, a Bible and a hymnbook. There was a platform in the front of the auditorium with a piano on the left side of the platform on floor level, and an organ was on the right side.

What are two rows of benches doing behind the preacher's lectern? Bud wondered. And what's that hole for behind the benches? It displays a river scene, and...a bathtub? What's a bathtub doing in a church building, if the preacher isn't doing something shady? Add that question to my list.

"Jim Book, are you here?" Bud shouted once, again. "Where are you? Come out, right now! You need to answer some questions for me!"

Silence. He waited a full two minutes.

Alright. I'll visit the parsonage, he thought. He'd better be asleep or dead, or he'll wish he was.

The parsonage was about the length of a football field off to the right of the church building. Two steps led up to the front door. Once again, Bud knocked. No response. He tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. Letting himself in, he called out, "Jim, if you can hear me, this is Chief of Police, Bud Best. I need to ask you a few questions. Please, come out. I don't want this visit to become difficult."

Silence.

Modestly furnished, he thought. The preacher is evidently not in it for the money.

The small kitchen and cozy living room were both just as clean as the church auditorium had been. Welp, I can certainly give him snaps for cleanliness, Bud thought. As he approached the hallway the hackles of his neck started to stand on end. He pulled out his gun, cocking it to be at the ready. I might should have done this before now. I guess a quiet town can dull your training.

Here's the bathroom. He snapped his gun into place, pointing into the bathroom.

Nothing.

He pointed his gun into the guest bedroom.

Nothing.

This must be the master bedroom. "Jim, this is Bud Best," he shouted with his gun, pointed, and at the ready. "We need to talk. Please, respond. You'll make it easier on yourself."

He waited a full minute, then snapped his gun into the room, pointing it at the bed. FLAT! Are you serious? he thought. Not you, too.

Holstering his gun, and snapping the security strap into place, Bud walked slowly to the bed and gently pulled back the covers. Bedclothes, in the shape of a sleeping preacher, but no preacher is in them. I can't believe I'm going to do this. Bud carefully pulled the pants open, and there was the pair of underwear. Good...night...Now we really have a problem.