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Authors: Tim Miller

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BOOK: The Hand of God
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“What do you think you’re doing?” Pastor McElroy shouted from the door way.  I turned and looked at him.

“I think I should be asking you that question.”

“Charlie, you don’t know what you saw there.  You might think you know, but you have no idea.  You’re just a kid anyway.”  He was trying to play me off, make me seem like I was the crazy one for seeing what I had just seen.

“Pastor, you said we all have gifts right?”

“Yeah?  What’s that got to do with anything?” his eyes shifted back and forth, I could tell he was nervous.  His little hobby had just been exposed.  I’m sure he was wondering if I would tell someone in the church, or the police.  I could see his wheels turning, trying to think of damage control.  All I could think about was the women he victimized without them even knowing.  My own mother used that bathroom.  It made me sick to think of him sitting in here getting his rocks off while watching my mother on the toilet.  

“How would you like to see my gift?” I said.  “God has called me to protect his children from lions looking to devour them, from wolves in sheep’s clothing.”  That was a quote by the Apostle Paul in the New Testament. 

“Lions? What are you talking about Charlie?”

“These women trusted you, they look up to you.  And you go and spy on them for your own perverted means?”

“Charlie, it’s not like that.  Let’s go get something to eat and we can talk about this.”  He started moving toward me.  “You’re blowing this all out of proportion.”

I took a step toward him.  He was much larger than me, but I wasn’t scared.  My heard should have been racing, but it wasn’t.  A wave of calm swept over me, as if God himself was guiding me.

“Charlie, I’m going to ask you nicely to hand me those tapes.  We can pretend this conversation never happened.”

“God knows what happened, Pastor. And I know what happened.” Looking down at his desk I saw a letter opener. It was long, shiny, and sharp. 

“Look you self-righteous little shit!  What are you going to do with them?  You think anyone will believe you?  You’re a snot nosed, weird little kid. I’ve been a respected pastor here for years.  Who do you think people will believe?  You can’t see me in those videos.  They don’t prove anything!”  He quickly ran around the desk and lunged at me, trying to grab the tape.  I easily stepped out of the way.  Despite his size, he was clumsy and off balance.  I grabbed the letter opener and thrust it into his right eye with one quick motion. 

I could feel his eyeball pop as the blade went in.  He screamed and tumbled to the ground as blood and fluid sprayed from his eye socket.  I stood over him holding the bloody letter opener. 

“And Jesus said,” I began, “if your right eye offends you, pluck it out.”

“Charlie!  No!  Please!” he screamed, but I was done with him, and so was God.

“Oh, be careful little eyes what you see,” I sang, “Oh, be careful little eyes what you see.  Because your father up above is looking down in love, oh, be careful little eyes what you see.”

His cries turned to whimpers as I straddled him and held the letter opener over his left eye.  Pastor McElroy liked to watch, but he wasn’t going to be watching anything ever again.

 

 

Chapter 18

 

When I actually woke up, my head was pounding.  The right side of my face was throbbing, probably due to the blow I took.  I tried to move but was unable to.  My hands were tied behind my back and there was duct tape around my chest, legs, and mouth.  The room was lit by a single light bulb dangling just overhead.  My vision was still a little blurry but I could see one of the Bishop’s goons standing nearby.  It looked like Jesus the shorter of them. He was glaring at me as if he wanted to gut me. I wasn’t sure why, but he and Jeremiah were some angry fellows.  So much for turning the other cheek.

I tried to make mental note of my surroundings but there wasn’t much to go by.  The door swung open from behind Jesus.  He stepped out of the way and the Bishop walked in.  He wasn’t smiling like usual.  Pulling up a chair, he sat across from me, leaned in and ripped the tape off my mouth.  I was glad that I didn’t grow that beard I had been contemplating or it would have really hurt.  I only managed a soft yelp as the tape tore free of my skin. 

“I’m very disappointed in you Charlie.” He said.

“Yeah.  So is my mom.  She wanted me to be a doctor.”  I didn’t see Jesus’ fist coming until right before it connected on the left side of my face.  It stung for a few seconds, then the metallic taste of my own blood filled my mouth.  I spit it out at Jesus’ feet.  He reared back for another one.

“Now that’s enough, Jesus.  Please leave us alone for a minute.”  The Bishop scolded.  “See?  When you act this way, you force me to do ugly things.  I don’t want to do ugly things, Charlie.”

“What are you exactly?” I asked.

“Oh, I think the real question here is, what are you?”  He stood and looked down at me.  “That is, other than the so called ‘Hand of God.’”

Did everyone know about that by now?  First, Davidson, and then the Bishop. The thought occurred to me that Davidson, the Bishop, or both had been playing me.  But for what?  Even if they wanted to blackmail me, I didn’t have anything.  Then again, I saw the Bishop do some wild healings and raising the dead.  Perhaps he has some supernatural powers. Maybe he sold his soul to the Devil, if that is something one can actually do. 

“Oh yes,” he said, reading the look on my face.  “I know all about you and your work. Running around, killing sinners as if God would tell you to do such a thing.”

“What do you know?  I saw you kill that preacher in San Antonio.  I also know you’re not what you pretend to be.”

“Who among us is what we pretend to be?  The sad thing, Charlie, is that I know a lot about you.  I know more about you than you know about me, or even about yourself for that matter.”

Now he lost me.  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.  He was sounding more like Davidson had earlier.

“Just what is it you think you know?”

“I know where you come from,” He finally cracked a smile.  “You’re not of God, that is for sure.”

I wanted to rip my hands free and choke the life out of him.  I’d dedicated my life doing God’s work and he’s going to stand there and say I’m not of God. Who did he think he was?

“You sure aren’t either. Maybe we’re both from Satan!”

“Now don’t be so quick to judge Charlie.  For the standard by which you judge, shall you be judged in return.  I guarantee you’ll lose that battle.”

“So where is it you think I’m from?”

“Let’s just say your ancestors were not of this world.” He rubbed his chin as he spoke.

“Like what?  Aliens?”

He waved his hand at me dismissively.

“Are you that dense?  Now you’re just being foolish.”

I remembered Davidson telling me to read Genesis Chapter Six.  I remembered the passage. It contained the flood story.  Was he trying to say my ancestor was Noah? That made no sense at all.  There were a couple of obscure verses at the beginning of the chapter.  I tried to recall the whole thing.Genesis 6

1And it came to pass, when men began to multiply on the face of the earth, and daughters were born unto them,

2That the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair; and they took them wives of all which they chose.

3And the LORD said, My spirit shall not always strive with man, for that he also is flesh: yet his days shall be an hundred and twenty years.

4There were giants in the earth in those days; and also after that, when the sons of God came in unto the daughters of men, and they bore children to them, the same became mighty men which were of old, men of renown.

5And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.

The English phrase “Sons of God” in the original Hebrew is Bene Elohim. This Hebrew phrase is only used one other time in the Bible, and that is in the first chapter of Job.  In that passage it is specifically referring to angels.  So, many people believe this passage in Genesis is talking about fallen angels coming to earth and breeding with human women.  The offspring were called Nephilim.  This is something widely debated among Bible scholars and clergy.  It’s also something you learn around the second or third year of Bible college.  They don’t teach this stuff in Sunday school. It’s too weird and complicated to explain to the little ones.

The Bishop was still talking even though I hadn’t been paying attention.

“Do you need me to explain it to you?” he asked.

“Sons of God,” I said.

“Well, give the boy a medal!” he said as he clapped his hands.

“So you’re saying I’m a Nephilim?”

“I’m saying you’re a descendant of a Nephilim.  Which is why I’m not going to kill you, at least for now.”

“How kind of you.”

“Well, as God said in Genesis, you are an abomination, and He did His best to destroy the rest of you.  Some of you still squeaked by and managed to breed, so here you are.”

“So why not kill me if I’m so abominable?”

“Oh no. God still has some use for you.  And so do I, my friend.”

“Use for what?”

“Oh, we’ll be in touch.  I imagine you need some time to digest this new information.”  He started out of the room, then stopped and turned. “Oh, and by the way, please stop following me around town.  It’s rather annoying.  Also I will resurrect anyone else you kill.”  He whispered something to Jesus, who had just stepped back inside, and then the Bishop walked out.

I thought of everything he told me.  He was either crazy or seriously screwing with my head.  I was leaning toward the latter.  How could I possibly descendant of a Nephilim?  I didn’t have much more time to think before Jesus came toward me with a syringe.  I struggled against my bonds but I couldn’t budge.  In one smooth motion, he stuck the syringe in my neck and pressed the plunger.  Before I could register what had just happened, everything went dark.

 

Chapter 19

 

I woke up on the floor of my apartment; apparently the Bishop didn’t want to tuck me in.  It was still dark outside so it must have been early in the morning.  I had no idea how much actual time had passed since I first broke into his RV. I’m sure the Bishop’s “revival” was a hit.  My head hurt like hell too. Both sides of my face were throbbing and sore, plus my head felt like it was filled with cement.  That was probably side effects from whatever it was Jesus had injected me with. 

I gently pulled myself to my feet; every joint in my body ached and cracked with each movement.  My suit was completely trashed.  Thankfully, it wasn’t one of my good ones.  I stripped off the shirt and tie as I stumbled to my bed.  I sat there in just my wife beater and dress pants thinking over the things the Bishop had told me.  It was all rather unbelievable, but I had seen unbelievable things over the last few days.  Not to mention the fact that God tells me to tie people to crosses, dismember them and dissolve them in lye, and pour them down the drain.  I suppose that in itself would be hard for most people to swallow. That’s the tricky thing about religion, how far do you let your faith take you?  From the moment I fought with the dog in the woods, I was all in.

All that said, I guess what the Bishop told me about my ancestry was possible.  A few things about that didn’t make sense.  The Nephilim were giants; at five foot ten I hardly qualified as a giant.  I stood and walked into the bathroom.  Looking in the mirror I could survey the damage.  It didn’t look as bad as I felt.  The right side of my face was slightly swollen, and the left side had some bruising.  I was expecting to look like the Elephant Man.  I went back into the bedroom to find David Davidson standing by my bed and I nearly jumped out of my socks.

BOOK: The Hand of God
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