The Leshy: Part One (special preview)

No matter how much you sweep, the steps to the church never seem to come clean. The dust and moss, on top of the fall leaves, gather in the corners, clinging to the old stone. You beat at it with your broom, but eventually you need to sit down. Your legs have never been strong, but the older you become, the worst it seems to get.

“Go inside,” Pastor Lado says as he returns. “This chill could get to the heartiest of men.” He offers you his hand, but you rebuff it.

“I need to sit more than I need to be warm,” you tell him. “Go on in, I’ll be along after.”

The young pastor gives you a look. It was by his graces you even had this job cleaning the church. Even though you polished the pews, you’d not sat in them since you were a child.

You nod to him. “I know, sir, I know. I won’t be long. Head on in and see if the pulpit is to your liking.”

Lado instead sits with you, gazing out across the village with a look on his face that just says how young he is. “I won’t have you getting sick, not with the holidays coming.”

You scoff. “There are ten women in this town who could do the job I do. Probably more who can do it timely and superior.”

“But I owe none of them a promise,” Lado sighs.

“You owe me nothing, it was my husband you owed.” You use the handle of the broom to stand up. Your cane is inside, leaning against the pulpit where you left it.

“And since he left us, my debt extends to you,” he says with an optimistic smile.

“He didn’t leave, he died.” You walk into the church with Lado close behind you. “Somewhere out there his body is one with the earth again. A million miles away for all we know! His unit was all but obliterated.” You look out the window towards the stones sticking from the ground. “Same as we all will be one day.”

Lado nodded. “Our time on this earth is borrowed after all. We all must owe-”

“No preaching. I told you,” you scold him. “I’m not into it.” You take your cane and nod to him. “I’ll finish my day by cleaning the communion cups.”

“Don’t stay too late,” Lado says with a hint of concern. There is a soft whistling that follows the breeze. His eyes follow it, going out towards the graveyard and beyond it. He looks weary at this sound, but he tries to keep up that chipper appearance. “Some of the villagers have reported-” He stops, and as a man of God you can tell he’s trying to process the superstitions of the village.

“Seeing things in the woods?” You offer.

“Yes,” he murmurs, fidgeting with the brim of his hat. “They say it’s a Leshy that’s out there.” He has a strange look upon his face, but it bothers you none.

You shrug, wiping your brow as you gazed off into the distance again. “Not surprised. My husband says he saw one in the woods often.”

Lado presses his lips into a firm line. “And you believed him?”

You smile and motion your hand around the sanctuary. “And your stories in your little book are to be believed, pastor?”

He’s trying so hard not to look offended, but you can see in his pale eyes how much that sets him off. “It’s not the same. One is fairy tales and the other-” he stops himself from arguing with you, catching up to your line of thought before you can even speak it. “There’s still moss on the steps outside. And the graveyard could use a raking.”

The smile that breaks across your face is one you have graced the young pastor with many times. “I know,” you chuckle. “I know.”

You leave the church at sunset, noting the back steps of the church were growing moss as well. You clutch your shawl around you. Taking your cane you hobble down the stairs as best you can. You’ve never been able to move swiftly, so you curse the cold wind for not waiting on you to get home.