by Donna Doyle
Burt did not reply but stared through his sunglasses at the prophet.
"Are you from Calmhaven?" Sharlan Tan continued.
"No Sir," Burt replied. "I am from Boulder Valley. I heard about you, so someone brought me here."
"Praise god," Sharlan Tan gushed. "Today happiness has come to Boulder Valley, for the spirit expressly told me you will see today."
Without wasting another minute he placed his hands over Burt Jungle's eyes and shouted in the microphone, "Blindness, be gone. In the name of heaven."
Burt didn't move.
He stood transfixed.
Everyone in the tent grew still, all eyes were fixed on Sharlan Tan and Burt Jungles.
"Burt," Sharlan Tan cried out. "Take off your glasses."
Burt lowered his head and ever so slowly he took off his glasses.
"Burt… how many fingers do I hold out before you?" Sharlan Tan held two fingers in front of Burt's eyes, and moved them back and forth as if they were a pendulum on a clock.
"I-I…" Burt stammered as Sharlan Tan held the microphone before his mouth. "I see… I can see! I see two fingers."
"Two fingers it is," Sharlan Tan yelled jubilantly. "Burt, you can throw your glasses away."
Burt looked around, grabbed his head with both hands and stammered, "I can see… I can see."
The crowd was in awe.
"Prove your faith, Burt," Sharlan Tan urged him. "Prove your faith by stepping on your glasses."
For a moment Burt looked up into Sharlan Tan's face with questioning eyes.
"I rebuke these doubts," Sharlan Tan continued. "Break your glasses."
Burt let out a roar, threw his glasses on stage and stepped on them so hard that even the people situated on the last row could hear the breaking of glass.
"Well done, well done," Sharlan Tan kept on shouting and raised both of his hands in the air again while shouting out more praises.
Digby leaned over to Molly Gertrude. "We can't let this go on, Miss Molly Gertrude," he mumbled. "What are we going to do?"
Molly Gertrude did not answer. She herself had just been asking God the same question.
You shall not have to fight in this battle. The words Papa Julian had received were so comforting, but when was God going to do something? Surely it was nearing the time.
"You see what can be accomplished with the power of faith," Sharlan Tan shouted in the microphone when all the excitement ebbed away somewhat. He turned to Burt and told him with a grand smile, "Thank you Burt. You may leave the stage now."
Burt climbed down without anybody else's help, and hugged his seeing-eye-dog. "I will not need you anymore, Bailey," he told his dog, who barked in happy agreement and he walked away rejoicing.
Sharlan Tan urged the public to be still again and he closed his eyes again. His hand went up as it had before. He seemed to be in communication again with higher entities. "Arthritis," he cried out. "Somebody here has arthritis… It's a man, and god is telling me he wants to heal him."
Several hands shot up.
"That's me, Brother Tan," one cried out.
"No, it's me," another yelled.
But Sharlan Tan kept his eyes closed in concentration. "His name…," he finally spoke, "…starts with an… H."
Hierro Glyphen who sat on a bench in front of Molly Gertrude, froze. He turned around and looked at Molly Gertrude. "That's me… I thought this whole thing was a hoax, but it's not. I am going to get healed…"
Chapter Twelve
Alarm flashed over Molly Gertrude's face. "No, Mr. Glyphen," she cried out, "it couldn't be you."
But Hierro Glyphen had already raised both of his arms in the air and shouted out. "Me, that's me. My name is Hierro."
Sharlan Tan did not look in Hierro Glyphen's direction, but kept on staring the other direction in search of the right person. Another pair of arms flew up near the entrance of the tent, and Sharlan Tan nodded in pleased satisfaction. "There is the man," he said and pointed in his direction. A short, stocky fellow (Molly Gertrude figured he was close to seventy) kept on waving his hands in the air, and shouted, "My name is Hanson. And I need healing from my arthritis."
Sharlan Tan wanted to say something in the microphone, but something stirred within Molly Gertrude's heart.
This is it, Molly Gertrude. Speak up. This is what you have been waiting for.
Molly Gertrude did not consider herself to be very spiritual, and she was not one to claim she often heard the voice of God, but on this occasion she was convinced God was telling her to take action.
She jumped up from the bench and yelled as loud as she could with her old voice, "Heal them both, Mr. Tan. Apply the heavenly power to both men."
Several voices in the audience grunted their approval. "Yeah, two for the price of one," someone cried out.
Sharlan Tan didn't like it.
His 'I am in control' look had gone out the door and for a short, desperate moment, he looked at his bullies for help, but they could not offer him any advice. He licked his lips and motioned everyone to be silent. "I've never had such a request, but we will ask the spirit." He raised his arms again towards the top of the tent and he closed his eyes once more, apparently seeking help from the invisible realm. At last he muttered, "Ah… I see it now. The last name of the man who is up for immediate healing starts with a… G… Yes, it's a definite G. His initials are HG."
"Yes," Hierro shouted it out. "I knew it! I knew it! That's me. My name is Hierro Glyphen. I will never again mock religion."
Now Sharlan Tan's face turned a dark red. Molly Gertrude couldn't believe her eyes.
But the man that was called Hansen did not budge. "No," he shouted just as loud as Hierro Glyphen, "it's me, not him. My initials are HG as well. My name is Hanson Gaffy. Surely, the spirit means me."
Molly Gertrude turned to Digby. "My voice can't reach that far, but yours can. Shout out in your booming voice that Sharlan Tan needs to heal them both. We will have the crowd on our side."
Digby grinned. Finally some action. This was going better than he had expected.
He cleared his throat, placed both of his hands around his mouth and shouted as loud as he could, "Sharlan Tan… heal both men."
"Yeah, heal them both," many other spectators began to yell as well, and soon the whole crowd chanted in unison, "Heal them both. Heal them both."
Sharlan Tan was rubbing his forehead. Molly Gertrude was convinced she could see him sweating profusely.
"Heal them both. Heal them both." The sound of the spectators rolled like a wave through the circus tent.
"All right," Sharlan Tan shouted at last. "Both men come here."
Hierro Glyphen turned around, and stared at Molly Gertrude with a victorious face. "Wish me luck, Miss Grey." Then he made his way through the crowd and limped forward to the stage.
As soon as he was out of sight, someone pulled on Molly Gertrude's sleeve. She thought it was Dora and without turning she mumbled, "What is it, Dora?"
"I am not Dora," came the voice. "I am Emily."
Emily?
Molly Gertrude turned abruptly, and stared into the youthful eyes of Emily Bimbleton. "Emily, what are you doing here?"
"I saw you when you entered the tent. Just like you I guess, I wanted to see what the rave was all about." She paused for a moment. "But then I saw that man… and I wanted to tell you, so I pushed my way through the crowd."
"What man?"
"The one you were talking to."
"Hierro Glyphen?" Molly cocked her brow.
"I don't know his name," Emily whispered, "but he's the one."
Molly Gertrude narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"
"You asked me the other day at the police station if I recognized that homeless fellow as the one who broke into the church…"
"Go on."
"I told you I did not, but that man that is now going to the stage to get prayer… he's the one I saw that night. I recognize the way he is limping. Everything fits. I am absolute
ly certain that he is the man you are looking for."
Molly Gertrude gasped and stared with wide, round eyes into Emily's serious face. "You are sure?"
"Absolutely," Emily bobbed her head.
"Thank you, Emily," Molly Gertrude mumbled at last, and considered the implications. "I must say I already had my suspicions, but now I am beginning to see the whole picture."
"Just wanted to say it," Emily said. She gave Molly Gertrude a shy smile, turned around, and worked her way back to her own spot.
Molly Gertrude leaned over to Dora and Digby. "You hear that?" she mumbled. "Hierro Glyphen knows a lot more than he told us."
Hierro Glyphen was just about to climb up on the stage and was being helped by one of Sharlan Tan's helpers.
"Do you think he's working with Sharlan Tan?" Dora asked. "How could we have missed that?"
"I don't think he's necessarily working with Sharlan Tan," Molly Gertrude cautioned her. "I think he is having genuine problems with arthritis. I don't think he is faking it."
"But Emily pin-pointed him as the one who broke into the church." Digby tilted his head.
"I think, he's sincerely hoping for relief from his problems," Molly Gertrude observed. "We have a few questions for him, but we still have no proof that either Sharlan Tan or Hierro Glyphen actually stole the book."
Another squeal from the microphone broke through our friends’ musings and they looked back up. Both Hierro Glypen and Hanson Gaffy stood on either side of Sharlan Tan, who had forced a smile on his face and tried to act relaxed and confident. But by the way he was shuffling his feet around, Molly Gertrude could tell the man was not in his element.
"This is going to be interesting," Molly Gertrude said. "Let's see how Sharlan Tan is going to solve this problem."
Another microphone squeal pierced through the tent. Sharlan Tan moved the mike around with an apologetic grin and said, "Well, well, well. Never a dull moment when you are living for the lord."
His statement was met with a few laughs, but most people did not react and stared at the prophet with questioning gazes. Sharlan Tan lifted his chin, closed his eyes and motioned for everyone to be quiet once more. Only the occasional shuffling of feet, and a few coughs could be heard.
"I sense…," he began, "…a spirit of unbelief." His voice was droopy and sad. "Oh, why can't people believe, when the table is spread before them and they are invited to freely eat and drink of the heavenly delicacies. And yet, there are those who are filled with doubt." He stopped speaking and seemed to concentrate as if a new idea hit him. He gave a short nod, opened his eyes again and turned to Hanson Gaffy while casting the man a warm smile. "And yet in this man, I perceive no guile. In this man there is still a spirit of faith." He proceeded to place his hands on Hanson Gaffy's head and shouted loud and commanding, "Arthritis… be gone."
Like the man who had been healed from blindness, Hanson, at first, did not react, but then he folded out his hands and looked at his fingers. He moved them one by one, and cast a surprised look in the direction of Sharlan Tan. "The pain is gone… It's really gone."
"You hear that, people," Sharlan Tan shouted while he addressed the crowd. "The pain is gone." He turned back to Hanson Gaffy. "Dance for me. Show me you can dance without pain."
"I sure can!" Hanson shouted with joy, and as he said it, he began to run around the stage while wildly swinging his arms around. "No more pain," he yelled at the top of his lungs. "No more pain."
The crowd cheered.
"Now heal the other one," Digby shouted out above the crowd. "Now pray for Mr. Glyphen."
Sharlan Tan cast him an angry stare, but turned to look at Calmhaven's nervous curator.
"Please, Mister Tan… I would like to walk without pain too." Hierro Glyphen looked up at Sharlan Tan with hope-filled eyes. His words were clearly heard by all through the microphone.
"Sharlan Tan shook his head, "As I said, I sense unbelief. Even the prophet Jesus could not do many works one time because of the unbelief in the hearts of the hearers."
"Pray for him." Digby shouted again, and within seconds the crowd began to chant again. "Pray for him. Pray for him."
Sharlan Tan rocked back and forth in his place, and was clearly at a loss for words.
"Pray for him. Pray for him."
At last, he nodded and said, "I'll do my best, but I doubt if this man will be healed." He placed his hands on Hierro Glyphen's shoulder and a guttural roar escaped from his throat. "Arthritis, be gone."
Hierro Glyphen pressed his eyes together, while his fists, in spite of the pain, curled up into little balls. His nose began to twitch violently and it seemed he was expecting some sort of lightning bolt to come from the heavens that would touch and heal him.
The crowd stopped chanting. All eyes were on the stage.
Sharlan Tan cleared his throat. "Open your hands," he commanded.
Hierro Glyphen opened them.
At least he tried, but he couldn't.
"They are stuck," he stammered, while fear flashed over his face. "That happens sometimes. My fingers often get stuck in one position and I can't get them back, but now it's worse than ever." He offered both of his fists to Sharlan Tan. "Help me, Sir… please, help me."
Sharlan Tan wrinkled his nose. "Unbelief," he yelled once more. "If you would have had faith, you would be dancing right now, as did Mr. Gaffy. But it's your own unbelief that blocks the road to healing."
"I want to have faith," Hierro Glyphen cried out. "I honestly want to."
"Then dance for me," Sharlan Tan ordered.
Poor Hierro Glyphen. He made a small jump, his fists still curled up in little balls, but his face contorted in pain. "I-I can't."
"Unbelief has captured another victim tonight," Sharlan Tan said with a sigh and drooping shoulders. "Just as I expected. I told you so."
But Digby had had more than enough. He could not stand another minute of this disheartening show of deception. "It's not true," he yelled as loud as he could. "The reason Hierro Glyphen isn't healed has nothing to do with his so-called unbelief. He is not healed, because you are no real faith-healer. You are a fraud and a charlatan. You can't really heal anybody. You are nothing but a child of hell."
For a moment nobody spoke.
Digby's words had the impact of an explosion and all eyes turned to Digby. But the silence did not last long. It was clear Digby had thrown the cat among the pigeons, and a shockwave of discontentment washed over the crowd.
Sharlan Tan's face turned red, and now his fists curled up into little balls too, although he still seemed to master them as he lifted one finger to heaven and yelled at the top of his lungs, "Heresy."
His stooges rose from their stools as well. Wolf accidentally knocked one stool over and it rolled off the stage where it came crashing down on a garbage can that was placed nearby.
Sharlan Tan pushed Hierro Glyphen aside and now pointed his angry, crooked finger in the direction of Digby. "You should be afraid to speak against the servant of God! The anger of God will be kindled against you." *
It was clear however that he had lost his control over the crowd.
The people grew restless and stared at each other in confusion. Some were shouting angry curses at Digby, but others weren't so sure and seemed torn between two opinions. Many recognized him, and knew him to be a faithful police officer who was known for his integrity. Would a man like Digby tell lies? That was unlikely.
Sharlan Tan cried out a command to his henchmen. Wolf immediately climbed off the stage and pushed his way towards Digby.
Digby saw him coming. He grabbed his badge and held it up high in the air for all to see. "I am a police officer. I am here to restore order. Nobody should be doing anything foolish."
Molly Gertrude searched for JJ Barnes. Where was he?
She spotted him, still near the front, but he seemed in shock.
But then, just before Wolf reached Digby, there was the loud and crackling voice of someone who spoke through a megaphone
. "That man is right," the voice cried out. "Sharlan Tan is a liar."
Wolf stopped. All eyes went in the direction of the new voice, and the pandemonium stopped, at least for the moment.
There, positioned on top of a VW bus stood a young fellow, dressed in the familiar T-Shirt that glorified Tan. He was holding a megaphone in his hand and asked the crowd to stay calm.
Molly Gertrude, Dora and Digby recognized him instantly.
"Elvis," Dora said, and her face lit up.
"Elvis?" Digby frowned.
"I work for Sharlan Tan," Elvis cried out from his elevated position. He shouted it out, bold and unafraid, and his angry voice filled the tent. "And I can testify that what this police officer is saying is absolutely true. The people that are supposedly getting healed were never sick in the first place." Elvis waved one of his arms in the air, hoping to give his speech more impact. "How do I know this? Because I did it myself. I once was staged as a boy with serious back problems. Sharlan Tan paid me $100 for my deception. He told me I was to tell everyone I had been ill for years and that nothing had ever helped me. Then, on stage, he prayed for me and I was to jump up and claim I was healed. But it was all a lie."
Sharlan Tan was enraged.
His face was no longer red, but had turned a bright purple. "Lies, all lies, designed to harm the work of God."
"Your so-called miracles are false," a small man with a red nose shouted.
"You pay people money to act sick, and then you deceive them with your so-called Isaiah-seeds," a woman with ripped jeans and frizzy hair cried out.
"But I still need help with my alcohol problem," the man with his whiskey bottle yelled, not satisfied that his chance of healing seemed to be going out the door.
"All lies. It's all lies," Sharlan Tan screamed. He pulled out a whistle from under his garment and blew on it. His stooges heard the desperate sound, and immediately turned around and fought their way back to the stage.
Things were heating up fast, and Molly Gertrude feared some folks were so enraged that they might even end up harming Sharlan Tan.
At that moment Digby's phone went off. "It's JJ Barnes," he said to Molly Gertrude. "He's calling all units. Immediate assistance required at Waterside Snomp."
