by Stan Mason
‘No... only yours,’ came the reply. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s all right, dad. I’m perfectly okay. I’m coming down soon for breakfast.’
The footsteps faded away and Mark Huntley stared directly at me. ‘It seems that you’re an angel after all.’ The fear that he had experienced initially drained away from his mind and body. He stared at me earnestly before making his request. ‘Stand back and let me have a good look at you.’’ I obeyed the command drifting towards the door. He scanned my face and body and then continued. ‘I want you to come down and meet my father,’ he added.
‘I’ve already met him,’ I returned naively. ‘I was here twenty-three years ago helping him with his problem.’
‘He had a problem twenty-three years ago that required an angel to help him?’ he retorted in confusion.
‘It was all settled long ago,’ I explained. ‘You needn’t concern yourself with that now. But why do you want me to meet your father?’
‘For obvious reasons,’ he went on. ‘I want to make sure that he can’t see or hear you.’
I nodded and went directly through the door to prove that I was a spirit, returning to the room almost immediately beckoning to him to come. He exited his bedroom by the conventional method, joining me in the hallway and we went downstairs to the lounge where Jethro Huntley was sitting in an armchair reading a newspaper.
‘Notice anything different about me?’ asked Mark sagely, as I stood by his side.
Jethro stared at him shaking his head. ‘What am I supposed to be looking for, son?’ he asked.
‘Speak!’ ordered young Huntley looking towards me.
‘What do you want me to say?’ I asked slowly.
The young man turned back to his father. ‘See or hear anything different, dad?’
Jethro Huntley shrugged his shoulders aimlessly. ‘Are you feeling all right, son?’ he enquired, to the young man’s satisfaction.
Young Huntley shook his head and waved his hand towards the kitchen, inviting me to join him there. I followed him to the next room and he closed the door behind me.
‘It seems you’re telling me the truth,’ he muttered with an element of surprise in his voice. ‘Why are you here? What do you want me to do?’
‘As I said before, you’re to be the founder of the new World Peace organisation. How do you feel about that?’
He screwed up his lips for a moment and then shook his head. ‘I thought about it some time ago but it’s too big a task,’ he explained. ‘Far too big for one person. It was okay talking about it at uni but in real life I wouldn’t know where to start.’
‘That’s just it,’ I ranted eagerly. ‘I do. We’ll start off in a small way with a solid plan and with you using your gift of the gab we’ll be well on our way. The first stages will be slow and laborious but we’ll get a number of apostles on your side. They’ll then spread the word.’
‘Apostles!’ he guffawed loudly. ‘Which part of the Bible do you come from?’
I ignored the comment and continued with the plan. ‘We’ll start with England first, then Great Britain, followed by the rest of Europe and eventually the world.’
I suddenly realised that I had moved far too fast for him because he stared at me with concern showing all over his face. ‘You sound like Adolph Hitler,’ he accused sharply mimicking the ex-Nazi. ‘Today Europe, tomorrow the world!’
‘One step at a time,’ I back-tracked quickly realising my mistake at outlining the whole plan at once. ‘One step at a time.’
‘But what do I say to people?’ he enquired still suppressing his enthusiasm as he considered the gravity of the project.
‘You tell them that the issue has nothing to do with religion. They can believe in their own creed without any perceived problem. This issue relates to politics... to crime that’s being committed all over the country. Ostensibly, the police are practically helpless, bogged down by red-tape and paperwork. Gangs of all kinds are taking advantage of the situation. People are committing acts of violence by drink-driving, mugging, burglary, arson, rape, abduction, murder, and so on. No one’s stopping them. What we need are vigilante groups in every village, in every town and city... as well as in every community... to rid ourselves of such vermin. The aim is to create a peaceful society that exists without crime.’
‘Chance would be a fine thing,,’ he declared bitterly, listening carefully to my words. ‘Evil deeds are committed every hour of every day in Britain.’
‘That’s what we need to wipe out,’ I retorted sharply. ‘You see, it’s up to the people to stop the criminals because the police can’t cope with the job... and let’s be quite clear about it, the people of this country outnumber the police.’
‘You realise there’ll be a great deal of resentment by the authorities and I’ll probably end up in jail for my part.’
‘Nearly every person who started out on a major cause ended up in prison before they succeeded in their cause. Famous examples are those of Adolph Hitler before he began the Second World War and Nelson Mandela who set out to destroy apartheid ... just to name two.’
He nodded knowing exactly what rigours lay ahead of him in the task. ‘I’ll need a script to start with,’ he ventured. ‘Something to say to the people... and also a plan of campaign.’
‘That’s what I’m here for,’ I told him frankly. ‘You need to arrange a series of talks at halls throughout the country over the next few weeks alerting the media to your actions. Eventually we’ll end up in Wembley football stadium with you speaking to eighty thousand people watched by newspaper reporters and outdoor television broadcasters. Your apostles will continue talking at local levels recruiting more people to the cause. We’ll stir up the whole country in a matter of two months. Vigilantes will tour the cities by day and night eliminating crime... wiping out every criminal... and establishing peace throughout the country. You’ll be surprised how quickly it’ll catch on.’
He smiled at me, plugging in the electric kettle before switching it on. ‘I wish I had your enthusiasm with regard to success,’ he responded, shaking his head slowly. ‘Is everyone like you in Heaven?’
I shrugged my shoulders having achieved his acceptance and I went on to suggest the first stage in the programme. ‘Book up a series of halls in a few cities and I’ll always be with you. You’ll receive a script and a plan of campaign very shortly and we can start work on it then.’
It was my immediate intention to return to the spirit world and, in doing so, I didn’t see the surprise on his face when I disappeared instantly in front of his eyes. I had work to do to write a script and set out a plan for my new protege.
My return to Earth took place exceedingly quickly and I proceeded to hand to him the script of the speech I wanted him to relay to the public. He scanned the words carefully and I could see that he was sympathetic to the context. He then examined the plan of campaign which was exceedingly simple to operate. All he needed to do was to book a number of halls in a few cities in which he intended to speak to the public. The end result would be sufficient in itself.
The first meeting was in a small hall in the East End of London. It was attended by only forty people, half of them Bangladeshis, a few Pakistanis, four Jews, and the rest of them of the Christian faith. Huntley walked nervously on to the stage to address them, clearing his throat loudly before speaking. Addressing friends and colleagues on the matter at university was one thing; speaking to strangers in the great wide world was another. The audience seemed only modestly interested in what he had to say. They had come to the hall mainly because of the inclement weather outside and the relative warmth that could be felt on the inside.
‘My friends,’ began young Huntley with an element of uncertainty in his voice. ‘I’m here this evening to start a campaign that will change the lives of every one of you in the future. It started w
ith Jesus Christ two thousand years ago when his ideas changed the world in their belief but sadly it was too tall an order for him to follow through in its entirety in real terms at that time. Despite our religious beliefs, we live in a cruel world which shows little mercy to any of us and, in addition, we are forced to have to suffer the burden caused by criminals whereby each one of us becomes a victim. The Government doesn’t care... not a hoot! Ministers and Member of Parliament are only interested in receiving their enormous salaries and expenses. They care nothing, leaving us to cope with the element of crime in our society. Young people carry knives. They go around communities causing vandalism and threatening innocent people. Gangsters deal in blackmail, drugs, prostitution, protection rackets, and the black market. The Government knows what’s going on but they’re either unable or care too little to crack down on them. I’ll tell you a fact that might surprise you. Eighty per cent of all crimes are never reported. So, despite the police claiming that crime figures are down, it is not the case at all. Out there are thieves, burglars, rapists, arsonists, drug-dealers, and murderers, yet if a person is considered to have used too much force on someone breaking into his home to burgle it he’s charged with assault. Surely we’re all at the end of out tether with regard to crime and criminals! I say to you that enough is enough! The police complain that they’re bogged down with red-tape and masses of paperwork each time an incident takes place. They’re too busy filling in forms to be able to cope with the situation properly. Some police forces are not even talking to each other and criminals are able to slip through the net with comparative ease. Most of the police are more interested in dealing with car-parking problems than with real crime. And who can blame them? In many cases the law doesn’t allow them to do the things required to catch criminals. And where does the police get its information on crime and criminals most of the time... from us... the public! Without information given by you they would be lost. So where does that leave us? I’ll tell you where! We’re at the bottom of the barrel when it comes to crime. We become the victims which makes it all the tougher on every one of us. And don’t for a moment forget the power that’s in our possession. Most importantly, we outnumber the police by millions! You may ask what we’re going to do about it. How do we achieve peace and goodwill, and become free from crime, as Christ set out but was unable to complete in his time? I’ll tell you how. I’m here tonight to start a campaign to set up a series of vigilante groups in every village, in every town, in every city in England. We’re going to crack down on all the criminals who come within our ambit. Our methods are unaffected by the police because we shall use whatever force is necessary to prevent crime from happening in this country.’ He paused to achieve some form of impact before continuing. ‘You may think the idea is extremely commendable but impossible to achieve. Well let me tell you if you think that way you’re wrong. It’s my intention to appoint a series of apostles to help me carry out the work all over the country. They’ll be in charge of each local vigilante group, centrally positioned to be able to contact all its members at a moment’s notice whenever a crime is committed, and also to seek out criminals at large. I know that the police will take a dim view of this matter but I declare that they’re helpless to stop us. We, the people, in our full numbers will be the first to speak out by means of our actions. We, the people, will stop crime immediately in its tracks in every part of England. We, the people, will achieve peace in our lifetime and enjoy the option of living in a crimeless society!’
The audience looked at him in stunned silence as though they had failed to understand his logic and, perhaps not surprisingly, their reaction was minimal. The words spoken were those which most of them wanted to hear but negative thinking caused them to fail to recognise their import. Until now, the police always pretended to have control of the criminal activities perpetrated throughout the country, albeit gangs of men still roamed the streets at large in cities carrying guns, youths continued to keep knives in their possession and occasionally use them, drugs were sold by dealers indiscriminately to people of all ages and sexes everywhere, while murders were committed regularly. The police were no longer respected as they had been in the distant past while their lack of ability to reduce crime and their despicable attitude to people who committed minor offences did little to encourage the public to view them in a favourable light. In fact, the police were generally feared, detested, and often hated. However, young Huntley’s speech had little impact on the small crowd in the hall and, after they had left, he sat down on one of the seats becoming quite depressed.
‘I didn’t think it was a good idea to start with,’ he bleated weakly. ‘It’s too tough a task to carry out.’ I recognised the genetic trait of his father in the past and bolstered the young man’s resolve to the best of my ability.
‘Come on!’ I told him forcefully. ‘This is the first meeting... the very first meeting. We had to start somewhere. In two days time you’ll be speaking in Birmingham, then Leeds, followed by Manchester. The media will soon cotton on to the message and, yes, you can be certain there’ll be hell to pay. You’ll almost certainly end up in jail but that’s par for the course on this issue. You need more exposure while suppression of the cause by the authorities will create opportunities for hundreds of people to become interested and join you. Just be patient and carry on as set out in our plan of campaign.’
He stared at me bleakly and nodded. ‘Very well,’ he said sombrely overcoming his reluctance to continue, ‘I’ll go on a little further but if I get such negative reaction continuously I’ll have no choice but to give up. You have to understand my position.’
I sympathised with the young man but I had a job to do and I knew it would succeed in the end if we stuck to the plan.
The meeting at Birmingham was attended by over a hundred-and-fifty people, most of whom had come because there was little of interest on television that evening. Young Huntley relayed the same message to them forcefully, with a higher degree of confidence this time, and he was delighted to note that three people came to see him afterwards, each one of them willing to start a local vigilante group. It was enough to encourage him to continue the challenge unconditionally.
In Leeds, there were two hundred people in attendance following a Press report in one of the national newspapers about the meeting in Birmingham. Some of thos attending were far more enthusiastic about the cause and no less than twelve people came forward at the end willing to start a vigilante group. However the main event occurred in Manchester where over four hundred people came to hear him speak. The momentum of the cause would have been sufficient in terms of numbers of volunteers had it not been for a single incident that put the matter into warp drive.
Young Huntley had just finished his oration when a shot rang out from the back of the hall. The speaker clutched his arm and fell to the ground having been wounded by the gunman. The audience erupted and dived on the assassin in numbers, punching and kicking him until all life had drifted from his body. The Press had a field day and the issue became front page news for everyone to read. Telephone calls, e-mails and letters poured in from all over the country and the people from many villages, towns and cities gathered together to discuss the option of creating vigilante groups to suppress local crime.
Fortunately, young Huntley only suffered a flesh wound and after a visit to the local hospital he was released. The bullet had passed through the flesh of his upper arm and all that was required was a bandage to keep the wound clean. However, the incident had its effect on the public for it was almost impossible to count the number of people attending the next venue in Cambridge. The hall was packed to the rafters with people who came to listen to the new-found cause with relish. Although it had nothing to do with religion, they looked on young Huntley as Christ born again. The media came in force as did a posse of policemen, and no sooner had young Huntley entered into the main part of his oration, they climbed on to the stage and used handcuffs to restrain him.
‘Mark Huntley,’ declared the leading police officer. ‘I’m arrest you for inciting the public to undertake unlawful activities against the State.’ He continued to read him his rights and then, without delay, two policemen marched him out of the building, pushing him into a police car, and drove off to the local police station. The Duty Sergeant read out the charge before the young man was taken to the cell in which he was incarcerated. I stood by him inside, in spirit form, smiling at the success of the project, and gave him further encouragement.
‘Well it’s working as we planned,’ I told him point-blank. ‘This is exactly what we expected. It’s exactly what we wanted. It’ll only strengthen the resolve of your apostles and the public. At this very moment, dozens, if not hundreds, of vigilante groups are being formed, ready to rid the country of crime.’
‘The police don’t think it’s a good idea though,’ he bleated weakly, feeling rather isolated in his present position. ‘They say that vigilante groups will injure, if not kill, innocent people.’
‘Ignore what the police tell you. They’re only covering their own tracks,’ I spat curtly. ‘Imagine how Jesus Christ felt under the yoke of the Romans as well as his disagreement with the Jewish priests. He had a two-fold problem with no recourse except to get himself crucified. You’re in an entirely different position. You have a large proportion of the people of this country on your side already. We just need to nudge a little harder, that’s all.’
‘I hope you’re right,’ he returned miserably. ‘I just hope you’re right.’
It wasn’t long before Huntley’s father heard the news and put up the money to provide bail for his son. The young man returned home to face a blistering diatribe from his father.
‘What on earth do you think you’re doing?’ challenged Huntley senior sharply. ‘Didn’t you realise you’d bee arrested for incitement and put in prison?’
‘I expected it, father,’ returned his son curtly. ‘It’s part of our plan of campaign.’
