by Dean Kutzler
Jack’s mind was still racing, but this time it wasn’t for a plan of escape. He needed a plan on what to do next. He couldn’t risk involving the authorities, yet.
What would he tell them? He withheld evidence from the police? He had a Bible crafted from God’s hands that could destroy the world? There’s a magical healing tree growing in a hidden temple under his brownstone? An ancient organization called the Bene Elohim wanted to use his innards to create Super Angel Humans?
Without exposing the only real proof he had, the tree, to the pawns in the justice system, the police would never believe his crazy story. The only person that could corroborate his story was Harold, and he didn’t want to throw him up into the mix. He was pretty handy with a Louisville, but the last thing he wanted was for the man to have an ancient organization after him, as well. Jack’s mother had seen Harold’s face, but he doubted that would be enough to find him in a city of over eight million people.
Jack was still numb from the sting of his mother’s true colors, but at least he had the answer to who killed his father and uncle. He wasn’t sure if he would have been better off not knowing. He got way more than he bargained. Revenge was never at the top of his list in any situation, but there’s no way he’d let her get away with it. Mother or not. But what could he do?
He felt safe for the time being and with his uncle—father’s money, he’d figure out how to effectively stay that way. But the problem of the Bene Elohim still remained, and worse still, they had the book. There was no telling what they could do with the unknown power the book held. That was the first place he thought that he should start—getting that book back.
But how?
“Whoa. Who’s dis character on yous stoop,” Harold asked as he pulled the cab behind a red Nissan, parked in front of the brownstone.
Jack looked through the open cab window. Father Alazar was sitting on the stoop with something on his lap. Jack went to get out of the car and froze.
It was the book.
How did he get the book?
After his mother’s confession of the murders and her unknowing acknowledgement of having acquired the book, he thought he’d misread Father Alazar’s quirky, if not untruthful, actions. Up until that point, he wasn’t sure who had nabbed the book. He was pretty sure it had been the Bene Elohim, but he couldn’t help wonder about Father Alazar. Jack never saw who had hit him from behind, and Father Alazar was there when he woke up from that blow. But his mother had confirmed it had been the Bene Elohim.
Why camp out on the stoop—with the book?
Who was Father Alazar working for?
“It’s okay, Harold. Don’t get the Louisville out just yet,” Jack joked. “This is the priest I told you about.”
“The ones ya sorta been workin’ wit?”
“Yeah, Father Alazar.”
“In his lap, is—is dat the—“
“Yup.”
“Oh mano mano man! From God’s hands, huh?”
And someone’s flesh…
“Supposedly.”
“Wait’ll I tells Vera. She won’t knows what ta think! You sure you don’t need some backup?” Harold asked, patting the bat.
“No, I think I’ll be okay Harold and thank you again for saving my life today. Nobody would have done what you did and MAN! What a swing!”
“Hey, I didn’t play little league for nothin’ ya know. Go Brooklyn Itty-Bitties! I’m just glad dah man above intervened and cracked yer phone.” He motioned the cross in front of his chest and looked up. “Ya knows what I mean?”
“I think I’m beginning to, Harold. I think so. Give Vera a big hug and kiss from me and stay in touch.” Before Harold had a chance to protest, Jack slipped another hundred-dollar bill in the plexiglass change cup and hopped out of the cab, sporting a raspberry tongue. “It’s the least I can do.”
“Why I oughtta…” Harold said, waiving the bat in the window. “Yous needs, yous call. Okay?”
“Thank you, Harold. I will. You’re a fine man.”
Jack watched Harold pull away for the second time that night. He drove away slowly, taking a good look at Father Alazar sitting on the brownstone’s stoop. Jack smiled to himself at his good friend’s protectiveness.
He walked over to the steps, put one foot on the bottom stair and rested a hand on the railing. “Come here much?” Jack said, raising his brow.
Father Alazar looked up from the book resting in his lap and cocked half a smile at Jack’s joke and said, “Not too often.”
“Pardon my language Father, but I’ve had one hell of a night. Mind telling me how I find you here, on my stoop, with the book I got a concussion over?” His hand now fisted on his hip.
Father Alazar looked back down at the book resting in his lap, ran his finger over the odd key in the binding and said, “Can we go inside?”
Jack took the steps, two at a time, and gave the front door a shove. It opened with a creak on a bent hinge and banged to a stop on the wall inside. “Locksmith hasn’t come yet. After you,” he said with a wave of his arm.
He watched Father Alazar rise from the steps, hefting the book under his arm as he brushed by, giving Jack a solemn look. The man of the cloth had been ambiguous from the start and Jack still didn’t know what to think about him. He clearly wasn’t the family murderer—that had stayed in the family. But Jack wasn’t clear on the sincerity of his involvement either. He pushed the front door closed, but it sat crooked in its busted frame, slightly ajar.
Was he just after the book all along?
Why bring it here?
At first contact, the man had tried to chase him away, warning him that he was in danger. Then the story of the bishop sending him on a mission with the late Father Angeli and the befuddling story of George Washington’s pew. The lineage book. The fire. Jack didn’t know what to think and yet there he was, with the book that his mother confirmed her lackey had pilfered.
How?
Jack closed the busted door as far as it would shut and crossed the room to the dining table. “Have a seat, Father. Or is that title a lie, too?”
Father Alazar laid the book on the table and sat down. “I assure you, Jack. I am a man of the cloth, doing God’s work. I am not part of the Bene Elohim, as I fear you suspect.”
“I don’t know what to expect Father, honestly.” Jack said, as he sat down at the table and nodded towards the book. “Let’s start with how you’ve come to have the book. The book I know for a fact that was stolen from me by the Bene Elohim.”
“I have been following you all day, Jack, making sure they did not capture you. Then I realized,” he looked down in shame, “where you were going. I could not tell you about your mother, Jack. I am sorry, you would never have believed me and there was no telling what you might do if I had.”
Jack didn’t know what man of God wouldn’t try to warn an innocent about the danger they were walking into, but he was right. He never would have believed him and he would have confronted his mother. Where would that have gotten him? An earlier slice and dice?
But he still hadn’t answered the question. “The book. How did you get it?”
“Yes, I am sorry. As I said, I was following you and you went to your, ah, mother’s penthouse. You were waiting for the elevator after that cab dropped you off and I was on the street, trying to stay hidden. That is when God intervened. It was a miracle. A car was coming down the street. Anyone, especially a priest, lurking in that neighborhood would alert suspicion, so I ducked down behind a BMW. As I was peeking through the window of that BMW to see if you had gone in, the street light reflected off of the gold key.” He tapped the golden shape embedded in the binding of the book. “The book was sitting on the back seat. I knew the car had to belong to your mother or one of her cohorts, so I jumped on the chance and busted the window.
“We have—I mean I have been keeping an eye on you Jack. I do not know what they have told you, but you are a very dangerous man.” He waited for a response, but Jack remained st
one-faced. He wasn’t offering any more information to this man of the cloth. Apparently Father Alazar knew more than he’d ever told Jack, right from the start.
“But who you are, Jack, what you mean to this world—it, it could change everything. In a bad way,” his voice was pleading. The white of his clerical collar was stained with sweat. “I have thought it over and over in my head and in my prayers, waiting for an answer from God. I see no other way for the world to remain safe.” He grabbed at the cross around his neck.
“You see no other way? Just what does that mean Father?”
“For the most part Jack, I have told you truths. But as old as the Bene Elohim are, the church has had its own sect. I am not proud of it, but it is God’s important work. Work that has to be done. Work few can do. Work to ensure the safety of the human race.”
“What kind of work Father?” Jack didn’t like the look in Father Alazar’s eyes.
“I admit. It is a very dark part of the church, but a very necessary part. Its secrecy is far more rooted than the Bene Elohim. I do not know who started the sect, or as to much of its history. I am not privy to such knowledge, only that it has been around for almost as long as the Bene Elohim. Necessitated by them. And that is the truth, Jack. I am only called to order when needed. That was not a lie.
“Since I was a child, I was commissioned from an early age. They saved me from a cruel Spanish orphanage. The orphanages here in the states are no walk in the park, but nothing compared to horrors in Spain. Just a step away from prison, only the shackles are smaller. The church—they cared for me, educated and trained me. Like a soldier.” He looked away from Jack as he continued. “They gave meaning and purpose to my life through God’s work.” He began to fidget in his seat and with his cross. “They showed me God’s true path. There can only be one God. You see? Your uncle understood.” His head was in his hands, looming over the book.
“Wait a minute. You knew my unc—uncle? Personally?” The man didn’t know Terry was really his father. This time, Jack had the upper hand of knowledge, not that it mattered.
“Yes and I am so very sorry Jack. I was afraid to tell you.” He looked up from the book, his face as pale as his sweat-stained collar. “I feared you would be suspicious of my intentions. You took me off guard when you called me out of the blue. He was a very good man, Jack. The church has its ways. But I also have my own. I approached him and the timing was right. We knew he was involved with the Bene Elohim, but I also have faith in man. He confided in me and told me what I already knew. I tried to protect him. I am sorry I failed. I do not know what happened. He never voiced any suspicions that they may have had of him.” His eyes dropped down to his lap.
“What suspicions?” Now Jack was a little clueless.
“Suspicions that he was working with me, against the Bene Elohim.” He looked up into Jack’s eyes. “The organization he was a part of. When he learned what they were planning on doing to you, he could not go through with it. They needed you, because of your blood. You were like a son to him. So when I approached him, he was ready to stop them—to save you. He was glad to have an ally in me. They kept that part of the plan from him until the last minute, but the time was coming. Your time. They needed him to get to you. He gave his life protecting you. Even on his death bed, he tried to warn you.”
“So you and my uncle worked closely together?”
“Yes. This is the reason for my elaborate story of where I found the letter, leading us to the key.”
“You mean the letter supposedly hidden in George Washington’s pew? So there really is a letter?” Jack sat up straight in his chair.
“Yes. That part was not a lie. There is a letter. Only how I came across it was deceitful. Your uncle was a very resourceful man.” He smiled. “I guess that comes with being a lawyer. He had been doing his own research on the Bene Elohim and it was he that discovered the letter leading us to the hidden location of the key. This key.” He tapped the binding of the book. “Your uncle discovered that your government knew of this book and its key and took steps to keep them hidden. The letter, as well as this key, were a ruse.” His face became flush. “Well, I did not discover the key was a ruse until I tried to open the book. The letter was to trick the reader into believing this key was real. Meanwhile, I assume, so the real holder of the key could get it far away.” He motioned the sign of the cross.
“That key,” pointing at the binding, “the one I found in the coffin is a fake? Is that what you’re telling me Father?”
The priest’s eyes were almost possessed. “Poor Father Angeli took his life for nothing but a mero treta. A mere ruse.” He kissed the cross hanging around his neck with shaking hands. “Father in heaven, forgive me. I merely wanted to look at his divine work and yes, my curiosity as to its power got the better of me. But it is not meant for me. It is a curse, not power. It represents the end of us all. It was never meant to be in our hands.” His face wore the shame of his guilt.
He grasped hold of the book’s edges and with great might he tugged and pried until his knuckles were white, but the cover held tightly to the binding. The book did not give, not even a sliver. It was more than just a fake key holding it shut. That was clear.
“You see? The key,” he pulled it from the binding and held it up, “it is a fake. It will not open the book. So it is safe for now.” He dropped the fake key on the table and it clattered like a jack looking for its marble. “Your uncle had the book hidden away. He did not tell me the location and I insisted it stay that way. This book, this power, it should be in no one’s hands but its creator, God. But it must remain on his creation. Some truths are awful enough that they should stay hidden. But you, Jack, you found it!” Shaking his head. “So much like your uncle, smart, resourceful.”
A creak at the front door drew Father Alazar’s attention. He jumped up, nearly knocking the chair over and started to reach inside his jacket pocket.
“Relax—it’s just the wind. I told you, the locksmith has to fix the lock. They wouldn’t be stupid enough to come here now.” Jack said shaking his head, staring at Father Alazar’s hidden hand.
The priest cocked his ear towards the door, closed his eyes and listened for a few more seconds. Nodding his head, he sat back down and pulled his hand out and placed it on the book. “But we soon learned that they no longer need the book and it is only a matter of time. Keeping it hidden wasn’t enough. The Bene Elohim’s scientists were close to figuring out a way to follow through with their plans of creating an Angel-Human race from early samples of your blood. But they still needed you—“
“The fire, it was you—wasn’t it?” He interrupted.
Father Alazar’s face flashed a hint of confusion at the sudden question, then his eyes locked onto Jack’s as he caught up to the answer. The heat between the distance of their gaze was proof enough for Jack. Not that he needed it.
“Yes, it was I.” His head slumped in earnest shame. ”Please do not think me a monster, Jack. I am doing God’s less favorable work. Unfortunate, but work of necessity.”
“Less favorable? Ah Father, isn’t murder on the ten commandment list?”
“I do not enjoy this Jack. You have to think of the whole. I never wanted to hurt you, but—“
“But what? What is wrong with you people? First my mother, then—then a priest? How can murder solve anything? How could you be sure I would have died in that fire?” Jack glanced at Father Alazar’s jacket pocket. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question.
Shaking his head he said, “I could not know for sure. Actually I hoped you would not.”
“How gracious of you—ah, how about not starting the fire? That would have been a sure-fire way!”
“I understand your anger, Jack. But you must know it is too dangerous for you to be caught. You could be the end of all of us. At first, I left the church with real intentions of leaving the country. I did. I tried to run away, and let whatever happen, happen. But a childhood of orphanages has taught me that r
unning away never solved any problems. You only end up back in the same place. Then I realized that I could not fail God. I have been waiting for a sign, but He was testing me. Failing God would have failed everyone. I could not do that, and so I went back. I watched you break into the church. I knew your determination for answers and I knew it would take you a while to go through all the files, so I set fire to the corner of my office to give you time to escape. I was really hoping you would escape Jack, honest—I was. My best shot at getting you safely out of the Bene Elohim’s reach was for the police to show up and blame you for the fire. They would have put you in jail and that would have given me some more time to figure out what I was going to do.”
“But Father Angeli told me the authorities couldn’t be trusted.” Jack’s anger was edging near fear.
“Yes, but not your country’s authorities. He was dying. Confusion was inevitable and the weight of our burden clouded his mind.”
“But, the guard I hired for my mother’s protection. He was working for the Bene Elohim. Not the actual authorities, but still security.”
“And you called the security on,” his eyes rested on the house phone across the room, “that phone?”
Jack looked towards the old fashion phone sitting on top of the antique phone desk. “So you’re saying the line is probably tapped? Right. But I called you to meet you from that phone, too.” He said, perplexed.
“Yes, Jack, I know. That is why I was so nervous when I saw that you used your uncle’s line when you had phoned me. It was a gamble for me to meet you, but you were so persistent and you threatened to meet me at the church. What was I to do? If the Bene Elohim knew what church I was at—“, his words trailed off at the thought. “To make sure we had not been found, I followed you that night and saw no sign of—how do you say? A tail?”
