The Amityville Horror Read Free Page B

one-thirty when he arrived. The Lutzes' driveway was so cluttered that he had to park his old tan Ford on the street. It was an enormous house, he noted. Good for Kathy and the children that her husband had been able to provide such a fine home!
    The priest removed his clerical articles from the car, put on his stole, took the holy water, and entered the house to begin his ritual of blessing. When he flicked the first holy water and uttered the words that accompany the gesture, Father Mancuso heard a masculine voice say with terrible clarity: "Get out!"
    He looked up in shock and whirled about. His eyes widened in astonishment. The command had come from directly behind him, but he was alone in the room. Who or whatever had spoken, was nowhere to be seen! When he finished his ritual of blessing, the priest didn't mention the incident to the Lutzes. They thanked him for his kindness, asked him to stay for supper, such as it would be the first night. He politely refused, explaining that he planned to have dinner with his mother at her house in Nassau. She would be waiting for him; it was getting late, and he still had a bit of a drive.
    Kathy really wanted to thank Father Mancuso for his contribution to the occasion. George asked if he would accept a gift of money or a bottle of Canadian Club, but he quickly refused, stating he couldn't accept gratuities from a friend.
    Once in his car, Father Mancuso rolled down his window. Repeated thanks and well-wishes were exchanged, but as he spoke to the couple, his expression turned serious. "By the way, George. I had lunch with some friends over in Lindenhurst before coming here. They told me that this was the DeFeo home. Did you know that?"
    "Oh, sure. I think that's why it's such a bargain. It was on the market for a long time. But that doesn't bother us at all. It's got the best of everything."
    "Wasn't that a tragedy, Father?" said Kathy. "That poor family. Imagine, all six murdered in their sleep."
    The priest nodded. Then with repeated goodbyes from the three children, the family watched as he drove off to Queens.
    It was nearly four when George had completed the first unloading at 112 Ocean Avenue. He drove the U-Haul back to Deer Park and into his old driveway. As he opened the door to his garage, Harry, his dog, leaped out and would have made a getaway if he hadn't been snared by his head. The fast and sturdy half-malamute, half-Labrador retriever had been left behind to guard the rest of the family's belongings. Now George took him into the truck with him.
    As Father Mancuso rode toward his mother's, he tried to rationalize what had happened to him in the Lutzes' house. Who or what would say such a thing to him. After all his experiences in counseling, now and again in his sessions he encountered clients who reported hearing voices-a symptom of psychosis. But Father Mancuso was convinced of his own stability.
    His mother greeted him at her door, then frowned. "What's the matter with you, Frank? Don't you feel well?"
    The priest shook his head. "No, not too terribly."
    "Go in the bathroom and look at your face."
    Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he saw two large, black circles under his eyes that were so dark he thought they must be smears of dirt. He tried to wash them off with soap and water, but it didn't help.
    Back in Amityville, George took Harry to the dog compound next to the garage and chained him with a 20-foot steel lead. Now that it was after six, George was almost exhausted and decided to leave the rest of his possessions in the truck even though it was costing him fifty dollars a day to rent the vehicle. He worked inside, placing most of the livingroom furniture in their approximate positions.
    Father Mancuso left his mother's home after eight, heading back to the Rectory. On the Van Wyck Expressway in Queens, he found his car was literally being forced onto the right shoulder. He looked around quickly. There was no other vehicle within fifty feet of