by Donna Doyle
It didn't look special.
It was just an ordinary notebook that came from an ordinary store, and yet something about it caught Molly Gertrude's attention.
"There's a notebook here," she called out to Digby.
"Sure," Digby whispered back. "Just hurry up, all right."
"I am just taking a look."
The cover, in sloppy handwriting, read: Sermons.
She opened it.
They were all handwritten notes, probably written by Sharlan Tan. Utterances, prophecies and other such things. It was difficult to read Sharlan Tan's handwriting.
Molly Gertrude leafed through the book. Nothing spectacular.
But then, just as she was about to put the notebook back, she came to the second half of the book and a shiver went through her body. These were more than ordinary notes. These were plain weird.
Use fear. Always use fear. Fear works well with a predominantly catholic audience, but with the right prophecies they may work well with unbelievers, and the so-called born again Christians as well. Fear equals donations.
The word donations was underlined. What was Sharlan Tan talking about? Molly Gertrude's hands began to tremble as she read on.
Since everyone hates sickness, play it out. Convince the audience God does not want them to be sick. Wealth, health and stealth are my weapons.
Sharlan Tan had drawn a red arrow that lead from the word weapons to the right margin in which he had written: "Good for Calmhaven. Use with power. This was unbelievable. These notes contained Sharlan Tan's strategies for his unholy meeting.
"Do you have a cell-phone, Digby?"
Digby frowned. "Me? Of course. Why do you ask?"
"With a mobile phone, you can make pictures, right? At least, that's what Dora told me."
"Sure. You want to make pictures of the interior of the motor home?
"No," Molly Gertrude said. "I want you to make a few pictures of these pages in this notebook here." She took the notebook and walked over towards Digby.
Digby peered outside again. There was still no sign of Dora. "I hope Dora is all right," he mumbled while he pulled out his mobile phone.
"She's fine," Molly Gertrude said in reassuring tones. "Now you see those pages here?" She pointed to several of the pages in the back. "Make pictures of those."
"All right," Digby said and he switched on his camera.
Not a minute later they were done. Molly Gertrude took the notebook again, and walked back to where she had found it.
"All right, Digby," she said, barely able to suppress the excitement in her voice. "At least one of our missions is accomplished. We did not find the stolen book yet, but I am absolutely convinced Sharlan Tan is a fraud. Let's get out of here." While leaning heavily on Digby's arm, she slid back into her sensible shoes, and seconds later Digby helped her out of the motor home.
"The proof is right in his own notes, Digby," she spoke, while trying to catch her breath as Digby moved her faster than was actually good for her.
"Tell me later, Miss Molly Gertrude," Digby said. He first wanted to get back to the safety of Dora's Kia Rio.
"You got the key?" Digby asked Molly Gertrude when they reached the car.
"Look under the chassis, near the muffler," Molly Gertrude beamed. "Dora always keeps a spare key there in case she locks herself out or loses the key.”
Molly Gertrude was right, and seconds later they climbed into Dora's cozy Kia Rio.
"And now, we'll just wait for Dora," Molly Gertrude spoke softly.
"I don't know," Digby wasn't convinced. "What if she's in danger? Maybe I should go look for her. After all, I am a police man."
Molly Gertrude wanted to tell Digby one more time that he did not need to worry, but right then there was a knock on the window.
They looked up into the face of Dora, but she wasn't smiling. A concerned look was on her face and she motioned for Digby to roll down the window. But what was behind Dora filled both Digby and Molly Gertrude was dread, as there, behind Dora, looking equally dark stood a man, husky and broad shouldered. He did not need any introduction. It was the man that was in charge of guarding Sharlan Tan's motor home.
Molly Gertrude narrowed her eyes as she peered at the man.
Something stuck out from under his leather jacket. Molly Gertrude wasn't entirely sure, but she had seen such things before. That man had a gun stuck in his belt.
Chapter Ten
"Papa Julian was surprised to see how many people were streaming in to hear Sharlan Tan speak. How was it even possible he had not even heard the slightest rumor of these meetings, as clearly, the whole thing was quite well organized, something which could not have been done in a matter of days.
The only conclusion Papa Julian could come to was that Sharlan Tan had been working on the sly and in secret, thus minimizing any possible objections to his presence.
The whole place was surrounded by a metal fence, and everyone had to pass through some sort of entry gate with a make shift ticket office.
"We have to pay to get in," Papa Julian whispered to Bella as they took their place at the end of a queue of people wanting to get in. "I thought the word of God was for free."
"Maybe this isn't the word of God," Bella remarked a little dry, and Papa Julian couldn't help but chuckle.
A young couple, standing in line before them, was discussing the event.
"You won't be sorry you came, George," the woman said. She had short stumpy hair, and wore ripped jeans with a loose-fitting sweatshirt that sported an enormous Q.
Her friend, a biker with a black leather jacket with a skull on the back, just grunted. "I don't know, Vivian. You know, I don't much care for preachers."
Vivian had clearly been at these meetings before. "I promise, George. Last night, someone got up from a wheel chair. Just like that… and, eh… did you bring the money, so we can buy an Isaiah-seed as well?"
George seemed doubtful. "I did," he groaned, "but before I hand over my precious dollars, this fellow better delivers."
"He will, George, he will."
Papa Julian stared at Bella and she stared back at him. Papa Julian was a firm believer in prayer, and had even personally experienced healings by faith.
Once he had discovered a painful lump on the sole of his foot. That was a few years ago already. The doctor had not been very encouraging. "It's not looking good, Maxwell," his message had been. "We will take a sample, and send it to the lab, but prepare for the worst."
Bella had placed Papa Julian on a prayer list, and several members of his congregation, including Molly Gertrude, had fasted and prayed for him.
Two days later, when Papa Julian had awakened from a beautiful dream, the lump was gone. Just like that.
When the doctor called him into the office later that week, ready to give him the bad news that indeed the pastor's health was in serious jeopardy, Papa Julian had broadly smiled at him and shown the doctor the soles of his foot.
There was not a trace of the disease. The doctor had scratched his scalp in disbelief and mumbled something like, "I've never seen something like this. It's not possible."
Thus, Papa Julian was convinced the miracles that happened in Bible times could still happen today. But he was doubtful they would happen today on a muddy field in Calmhaven, where you had to pay an entry fee to get in, and you would be guided by the words of a strange quack like Sharlan Tan.
"Papa Julian," a youthful voice interrupted the pastor's musings. "How wonderful to see you. Do you want two tickets?"
Papa Julian's eyes widened. "Archie," he exclaimed as he stared at the young man in his early twenties that was occupying the seat in the ticket office. Archie was dressed in a T-shirt that read Sharlan Gives Tan. "What are you doing here?"
"Working for Mr. Tan," Archie replied. "He pays me a little bit too, so that helps to pay my studies."
"I missed you at the last two Bible studies," Papa Julian's shoulders sagged a bit.
"I know," Archie said, but I
am with Sharlan Tan now. Steven is too."
A dark shadow entered Papa Julian's heart. Archie Carmichael and Steven Mote had just recently joined the church. They both were students; good kids and all that, but they had a bit of a history, and required some guidance.
They had been dabbling with drugs and the occult, but Papa Julian had gone through great lengths to help them, and recently they had both been baptized.
"You need the Word, Archie," Papa Julian said. "Are you all right?"
"I am fine, Papa Julian. Sharlan Tan gives me lots of the Word." He proudly pointed to his T-Shirt. Sharlan gives me my Tan, Papa Julian."
Papa Julian nodded. "Nice shirt, I guess," he said. "Did Sharlan give it to you?"
"No Sir," Archie replied. "I bought it. It costs twenty dollars, but all the money goes to good causes so it's worth it. You want one too?
"No, thank you," Papa Julian said while he stroked his throat and grimaced. "Okay, Archie, how much do I owe you for the tickets?"
"Ten dollars," the boy said.
Papa Julian's eyes widened. "Ten dollars? Just to get in here?"
The boy blinked. "Sorry, Sir," he mumbled. "That's what it costs, and as I said, every penny goes to good use."
"Where's Steven?" Papa Julian asked, not able to hide his scowl, while he pulled out his wallet. The boy shook his head. "Don't know, Sir. He's somewhere. You can recognize him by the same T-Shirt, although most men that work here are not really part of Sharlan's crew. They are just hired workers."
"Thanks, Archie," Papa Julian rasped as he handed the boy the money.
Just then Wolf appeared.
He literally stepped out of nowhere and stood broad-shouldered and wide-legged in front of Papa Julian. "And… where do you think you are going? He barked.
Papa Julian rubbed his chin. "Wolf? What are you doing here? Will you please get out of the way. I want to hear Sharlan Tan for myself."
"No, you are not," Wolf fired back. "Now, you are on our turf, and here we make the rules."
"Excuse me," Papa Julian waved with his hands. "This is ridiculous. Why can't I go in and hear Sharlan Tan for myself?"
"Because," Wolf howled, "you are not interested in the message. You are one of the critical ones. People like you bring bad vibes. It disturbs the atmosphere, for you are only interested in preserving your own little kingdom. Did you ever hear that verse in the Bible about pouring new wine into old wineskins? That's what's at stake here, Maxwell."
"Are you some sort of security guard?" Papa Julian asked. "Isn't this a free country?"
"It is, and it isn't," Wolf shot back.
"I see," Papa Julian curled his lips. "I take it that Sharlan Tan is that new, better pastor you told me about a while back?"
"You guessed it," Wolf laughed, and his eyes became dark. "I am now in the inner circle. Mr. Sharlan Tan, with his blessed, prophetic gift, already knew you would be coming tonight. He ordered me to keep an eye out for you. And, as always, he was right."
Bella pulled on her husband's sleeve and whispered, "Let's go, Julian. This place is crazy anyway."
"Sure, Bella." Papa Julian acknowledged her plea, but he was too fired up to turn around and leave.
"So… I can't come in?"
"Nope."
"Not even for half an hour?
"Nope." Wolf tilted his head and pointed towards the gate. "There's the exit, Maxwell. Goodbye."
Papa Julian shook his head in disgust and turned back to Archie. "Can I have my money back?"
The boy nodded and grabbed a ten Dollar bill, but Wolf stopped him. "Oh, no, Maxwell," he cackled, "Once in, forever in. Isn't that the principle on which you operate your church?" A sickening laugh burst from his throat. "Goodbye."
"Let's go," Bella urged her husband. From the tone of her voice it was clear she was afraid Papa Julian was about to do something that would be considered rather unchristian. "Just let these people stew in their own juice, Julian."
Julian gritted his teeth, stared one last time in the face of Wolf, while he cried out to God. "Help me, dear God." At that moment, he was considering giving the man a good punch, or at least a big shove. But instead of resorting to violence, a strange peace came over him. All at once, Papa Julian recognized it as the presence of God, and he knew with great certainty that God was in control. He did not have to fight in his own strength. God would fight for him. All was well.
Even Wolf seemed to sense the change that had come over Papa Julian, as his left eye began to twitch and he lowered his gaze to the ground.
"Goodbye Wolf," Papa Julian said in a calm voice and turned around. "Goodbye Archie. Give my greetings to Steven."
"I will, Papa Julian," Archie mumbled. The boy was clearly confused.
As they squeezed back out of the gate, Bella mumbled something about this not being the work of God.
"You are right," Papa Julian mumbled when they were outside again. "That's why it will fail. But we will commit ourselves to prayer and leave it all in God's hands."
"I was afraid you would hit Wolf," Bella said as they walked in the direction of their home.
Papa Julian chuckled. "I think I could have. But the Spirit lifted my anger. As I stood there a verse of Scripture came to me and it filled me with peace."
"Which one?" Bella asked.
"It's in the book of Acts. "And now I say to you, keep away from these men and let them alone; for if this plan or this work is of men, it will come to nothing."*
Bella smiled. "Very appropriate. Let's hope Molly Gertrude and her crew got better results than we did."
"I love you Bella," Papa Julian said with a cheerful smile. "Here on earth, you are the best thing that ever happened to me."
"Love you too, Julian," Bella replied, and she took Papa Julian's hand in hers as they walked home.
*Acts 5:38
While Digby rolled down his window, Molly Gertrude saw how the young police officer felt for his own firearm, hanging right next to him on his belt. Surely, this night wasn't going to end up in some sort of shoot-out? Molly Gertrude peered out the window at the man that was standing behind Dora. His face was partially hidden in the darkness, but it was clear from his build he was strong. But, not only did he look strong, that pistol, clearly visible by the light of the moon, was most disconcerting. Molly Gertrude shivered. Dear God, please protect us.
But then, and to their great relief, Dora did not seem to be in the least perturbed.
As soon as Digby had sufficiently opened his window, she leaned forward and greeted them with a victorious smile. To Molly Gertrude, it was as if the sun broke through the clouds on a gloomy day.
"Why are you guys looking so nervous?" Dora chirped in cheerful tones. "I bring you good tidings."
"You scared us," Digby snorted. And who is that?" He motioned with his head to the man that was still standing behind her.
"That's Elvis," Dora stated, as if it was common knowledge. "Let me introduce you to Elvis, as he's got some interesting stuff to share with us." She turned around, and asked the man in a relaxed tone, "I actually don't know your family name."
The man pressed his lips together and stepped into the light. He had his greasy, black hair combed backward and stared at Molly Gertrude and Digby with shifty, nervous eyes. She guessed he was in his early thirties, and wore a too-tight T-Shirt that read, Sharlan Gives Tan. It showed his muscles and it was clear he was not somebody to mess with. He forced a weak smile on his face, and said, "Maduro. My family name is Maduro." But then, when he took a better look at Digby he hesitated.
Dora noticed his insecurity. "Don't worry, Elvis," she said. "Yes, that is Digby. I told you he's a police officer, but he's all right."
Digby swallowed hard and narrowed his eye. Molly Gertrude could hear him thinking, "Is that all I am to you… all right?"
She tapped Digby on his knee with her hand, and gave him a reassuring nod. "Dora told us she brings us good tidings. I want to hear them." She leaned over and asked Elvis directly, "Tell us, El
vis, what can you tell us?"
"I haven't got much time," Elvis cautioned, "but I met Dora here, and she told me that she is investigating Sharlan Tan." He cast her an admiring look. Digby began to loudly clear his voice.
"We all are investigating," Digby snarled. "I see you have a pistol. Can I see your license?"
Elvis blushed, but Molly Gertrude came to the rescue. "Never mind, Digby. That's not the issue for now. Let us hear what Elvis has to say."
Elvis pressed his lips together, gave Digby a scowl, and shook his head. "I've said it all to Dora. She knows." He looked at his watch and gritted his teeth. "I must go back to the motor home. The meeting is going to be over soon, and Sharlan will return."
Molly Gertrude's face dropped, but Dora gave her a reassuring look. "Don't worry, Miss Molly Gertrude. He told me lots of interesting stuff."
Elvis nodded. "Everything I told her is true, but don't tell anyone that you got it from me." Then he turned to Dora and stared into her eyes. "Can I see you again," he asked. "Maybe dinner in town tomorrow night?"
Dora blushed. Digby's ears got red too, but for an entirely different reason. "No, she cannot," he snapped. "She's needed for the investigation."
Dora nodded and gently touched Elvis' arms. "I suppose he is right, Elvis, but thank you so much. You have been an amazing help."
Elvis seemed to be in doubt, but at last he nodded. "Goodbye Dora."
"Goodbye Elvis," Dora said.
The guard turned around, and walked over to the motor home.
"Next time I see you," Digby still called out after him while leaning out of the window, "I want to see your license. Otherwise I will still lock you up… Do you hear me?"
Elvis turned and glared at him, while making a strange sign with his fingers. It made Digby fume, but Dora saved the situation by slipping her arm around Digby's shoulders and she began to gently squeeze them. "Don't get uptight, dear Digby. Besides you, there's nobody I am interested in. I just used my natural, God-given womanly charm, and it worked. Without a doubt, I have discovered Sharlan Tan is a big fraud and a deceiver."
