That was the thought to which he kept coming back, and he had to admit that it frightened him. Hal was right; even if it was not God specifically who was urging him to return to Oakdale, it was some sort of higher power, something able to summon supernatural forces. And who was he to go argue with that? Who was he to go against the wishes of such a being? For all he knew, the fate of the world was at stake and his hesitation and procrastination might doom the human race for eternity. What would have happened if Noah had shirked his duty? What if Moses hadn’t been in the mood to lead his people out of Egypt?

Egocentric thinking, he knew. Megalomaniacal even. He wasn’t in that kind of position. The world wouldn’t end because he refused to go back to Oakdale.

But could he afford to take that chance?

Hal had offered to go back with him, and as simple a gesture as it was, Norton found himself touched by it. He knew how scared his friend was for him, and he was grateful for the support. It was almost enough to tempt him into going.

Almost.

But the bottom line was that he was afraid. Afraid of what might happen, afraid of what he might learn, afraid of what he might remember. If it was God calling him in on this, He’d have to either inject some courage into these old bones or give him another sign of some kind and let him know how important this was and why.

Otherwise, he was staying home.

Norton sighed. Deep down, though, he didn’t really believe it was God trying to recruit him. It was interesting to think about, and it was the argument he tried to use on himself, but if God was really trying to get in touch with him, He would have made it a more pleasant experience. He would have used an angel or a bright white light, not the nude ghost of Norton’s dead wife. And the message would not have been so ambiguous. It would have been more direct.

If anything, this was a recruitment call not from God but from… the other guy.

The devil.

Satan.

There was a knock on the door and Joe Reynolds, the lead custodian, poked his head in the room. “You almost through in here, Mr. Johnson? I need to clean the floors.”

Norton tossed a stack of papers and the teacher’s edition of the twelfth-grade government textbook into his briefcase. “Just leaving, Joe. Don’t mean to hold you up.”

“Don’t apologize, Mr. Johnson. I think the kids of this town would be a hell of a lot better off if all our teachers were as conscientious as you.”

Norton smiled at him. “I think you’re right.”