"Thank you, my dear." He patted her hand.
"Monday afternoon, though." Edith looked concerned. "That doesn't give us too much time."
Barrett said, "I'm wondering if I shouldn't go alone on this one."
She stared at him.
"Well, not alone, of course," he said. "There are the two others."
"What about your meals?"
"They'll be provided. All I'll have to do is work."
"I've always helped you, though," she said.
"I know. It's just that - "
"What?"
He hesitated. "I'd rather you weren't along this time, that's all."
" Why, Lionel?" She looked uneasy when he didn't answer. "Is it me?"
"Of course not." Barrett's smile was quick, distracted. "It's the house."
"Isn't it just another so-called haunted house?" she asked, using his phrase.
"I'm afraid it isn't," he admitted. "It's the Mount Everest of haunted houses, you might say. There were two attempts to investigate it, one in 1931, the other in 1940. Both were disasters. Eight people involved in those attempts were killed, committed suicide, or went insane. Only one survived, and I have no idea how sound he is - Benjamin Fischer, one of the two who'll be with me.
"It's not that I fear the ultimate effect of the house," he continued, trying to ameliorate his words. "I have confidence in what I know. It's simply that the details of the investigation may be" - he shrugged - "a little nasty."
"And yet you want me to let you go there alone?"
"My dear - "
"What if something happens to you?"
"Nothing will."
"What if it does? With me in New York, and you in Maine?"
"Edith, nothing's going to happen."
"Then there's no reason I can't go." She tried to smile. "I'm not afraid, Lionel."
"I know you're not."
"I won't get in your way."
Barrett sighed.
"I know I don't understand much of what you're doing, but there are always things I can do to help. Pack and unload your equipment, for instance. Help you set up your experiments. Type the rest of your manuscript; you said you wanted to have it ready by the first of the year. And I want to be with you when you prove your theory."
Barrett nodded. "Let me think about it."
"I won't be in your way," she promised. "And I know there are any number of things I can do to help."
He nodded again, trying to think. It was obvious she didn't want to stay behind. He could appreciate that. Except for his three weeks in London in 1962, they'd never been separated since their marriage. Would it really hurt that much to take her?
Certainly, she'd experienced enough psychic phenomena by now to be accustomed to it.
Still, that house was such an unknown factor. It hadn't been called Hell House without reason. There was a power there strong enough to physically and/or mentally demolish eight people, three of whom had been scientists like himself.
Even believing that he knew exactly what that power was, dare he expose Edith to it?
DECEMBER 20, 1970
10:39 P.M.
Florence Tanner crossed the yard which separated her small house from the church and walked along the alley to the street.
She stood on the sidewalk and gazed at her church. It was only a converted store, but it had been everything to her these past six years. She looked at the sign in the painted window: TEMPLE OF SPIRITUAL HARMONY. She smiled. It was indeed.
Those six years had been the most spiritually harmonious of her life.
She walked to the door, unlocked it, and went inside. The warmth felt good. Shivering, she turned on the wall lamp in the vestibule. Her eye was caught by the bulletin board:
Sunday Services - 11:00 am., 8:00 p.m.
Healing and Prophecy - Tuesdays, 7:45 p.m.
Lectures and Spirit Greetings - Wednesdays, 7:45 p.m.
Messages and Revelations - Thursdays, 7:45 p.m.
Holy Communion - 1st Sunday of Month