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ROME, THE PAPAL PALACE ..

“We can never tolerate such obnoxious heresy, nor shall we allow it!”

With this furious announcement, uttered in decisive tone, his Holiness the Pope began his angry speech regarding recent news he had learned about what he called as the most horrible blasphemy committed by one of the Church Fathers who used to be renowned for his great faithfulness, loyalty and dedication to the Church.

The speech was being delivered in the papal palace in Rome, where his Holiness the Pope had called for an urgent and pressing meeting to be attended by the leading representatives of the Christian Churches all over the world.

There were Bishops, Archbishops, Cardinals, Patriarchs and highest-ranking priests. They were all sitting in priestly manner, wrapped up in various ornamented robes, their paunches ringed with purple cinctures, their heads capped with decorated stately caps, which added to their prestigious and influential looks.

They were all listening with full attention to the Pope’s speech while the grave expressions on their grim faces showed quite clearly how much they were involved in the shocking and disastrous information the Pope was pouring into the holiness of their majestic heads: “Your eminences, the Cardinals, your excellencies, the Archbishops and Bishops, the most reverend lords, the Patriarchs, fathers, brothers and sisters.

Thank you for responding to my urgent call. I would not have caused you the trouble of coming from your distant places, from the corners of the earth had the case not been more than serious, comprehensively grievous and catastrophic.

This meeting shall soon prove to be very much more critical than some might think. You are here to do your greatest duty for saving our most sacred treasure—our faith, Christianity, and the godhead of our Lord, Jesus.

It is time that we all forgot our differences and realized that the Christian Church is in the greatest danger ever. It is being targeted with all the malice of the devils and the evil ones. Extremely satanic and malicious attacks are being contrived for terminating it—us.”

The Pope stopped talking for a while to retrieve his breath and investigate the expressions on the nearest faces to him. Then with a voice disclosing his serious apprehension, resumed:

“It is the Devil’s most wicked assault on our faith—on our Lord, Jesus.”

And like a smart politician in a press conference—he stopped again for a while, gazing with inspecting eyes into the staring faces to make sure of their being impressed, then, with a well tuned tone, resumed:

“It is time that we all finished our disunity and differences, and got united in one iron hand for defending Christianity. It seems that Satan himself has finally gathered all his dirty spirits and evil hosts aiming to launch his ultimate war against Christianity to terminate our faith in our Lord, God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

Pausing for a few seconds to collect his breath again, he stretched out his trembling hand, pointing with his forefinger towards the audience’ faces, as if he meant to pierce everyone’s eyes; then shouting with a drumbeat voice, he cried:

“You, my children, brothers and sisters, are in great danger, because you are also intended to be terminated, being the holy body of the Christian Church, unless you stand alert and get ready to fight back and defend your existence with your full power of loyalty and faithfulness to Jesus Christ and His holy Church.”

The curious expressions on the faces of the audience began to grow impatient, waiting for the Pope to disclose the reality of the matter. An air of concealed pleasure transpired on the face of the Pope as he prevailed in an instigating voice:

“We are not going to take hasty decisions! We need to take a decisive and conclusive stand! We need to unite on one platform! I want you to recognize the seriousness of the situation fully, before you decide any action. Yet, we shall never tolerate such obnoxious heresy, nor shall we allow it!”

TUESDAY MORNING ..

CALIFORNIA, BIG BEAR CITY, THE HILLS

On a steep hillside, covered with a forest of huge old pine trees, standing in pretty disorder like frozen ghosts, patches of slowly melting snow were intermittently falling off the bushes burdened with the heavy white load. The sound of this bulky snowfall was the only companionable feature in such a lonely, yet exciting place. The small piles of the fallen snow-lumps under the trees were gradually merging with the snow of the ground, uniting with the flat shining surface again.

Although there was no wind, a sense of a hissing sound was filling his ears. It was almost an hour before sunset, when the last faint shadow of the daylight would hide in the silent bushes of the tall trees. The snow surface of the hillside was promising a kind of misty ground-light.

Tomas Turner, a black young man in his early thirties, with a stout body and handsome features was walking watchfully on the slopes of the hillside. He was looking left, right, ahead, and sometimes backward as if he wanted to see all around at the same time. He had a backpack, hung over his back, and a modern hunting rifle with a scope in his hands.

He was holding the rifle in an alert grip, ready to shoot at sight in case of danger. His features expressed the countenance of a self-confident young man. His looks displayed a sort of a natural aptitude. The color of the falling night was soon to unite with the color of his complexion. A sort of growing silence was merging with a sense of mystery mixed with the assorted sounds of the forest night-creatures.

Although Tomas was a brave young man, he felt that the dangers of the imminent darkness should not be overlooked. He had to prepare for it with due concern. He began to consider how and in which spot he should spend the cold night. He was getting his thoughts ready before being enwrapped completely in the darkness and coldness of the night.

He looked around exploring the area to choose a place where he could set up his small mountain tent. He was looking for a piece of flat ground suitable for setting up his small tent and making a small fire. He also wanted that place to be protected as much as possible by a wall of rock behind his back, or a kind of cavity on the side of the hill with some close trees around.

He walked a few steps forward, turned left, then looked up where he saw a spot which might be a good choice.

The dim silence of the fast approaching sunset was pressing in a mysterious way. He looked up again to the flat spot and seemed to have decided to go up to it to make sure it was good for spending the approaching night.

Full silence was prevailing when Tomas resolved to move his right foot up in the direction of the flat spot.

Suddenly, a horrible shrieking growl cracked the heavy silence of the forest. Tomas froze! His heart beat fast. His grip on his rifle tightened automatically. He began to turn his head looking around sporadically like a nervous bird.

Fearful silence prevailed again.

Tomas immediately realized that it was a bear. He soon remembered that he had once read an article about bears, specially the black American bears. He learned that although they were omnivorous, they were also meat-eaters with excellent memory, which helps them remember well the place of food. He also knew that they had a sharp sense of smell, which is seven times more powerful than that of dogs. They, however, rarely attacked humans, unless they were surprised and provoked to respond defensively.

He was completely alert and frightened!

A sudden encounter with the angry and hungry monster was soon expected!

* * *

He turned behind instinctively. The huge bear was there standing on its feet, intimidating and roaring angrily, telling Tomas that he had trespassed and deserved to be punished. He turned automatically to find himself transfixed to the spot of his feet with no single hope for even a miraculous escape.

Hastening to retreat, he lifted his rifle to shoot the bear without aiming.

He fired!

The bullet only scratched the bear’s shoulder and made him rage even more. Tomas’ swaying body was soon within the range of the bear’s claws who was ready to smack. A small void pit behind him swallowed his right retreating foot, and made him fall back helplessly. His rifle flew off his hand and landed on a ground bush at a stem of a big tree.

The bear looked down to see how he could assault upon Tomas who was creeping fast on his back like a big reptile to reach the rifle spot. His fingers touched it. When he tried to pull it towards him to hold it well, he fearfully realized that its belt was tangled tight with the ground bushes on which it fell. He tried and tried, but was soon convinced that he didn’t have enough time to get it. The bear, which was standing upright, appeared, from beneath, double its true height, and looked as if it were soon about to fall upon him.

Tomas had less than a moment to think of what he could do.

The bear seemed to have saved him the trouble of thinking. It took back its normal position again and decided to use its legs and hands rushing towards its close hunt. Tomas, too, decided to jump down the slope flying with his utmost capacity.

The inevitable chase commenced in crazy manner. The beast, hungry and angry, was fatally after his frightened prey.

* * *

Tomas, intuitively, taking the spirit of a deer and the wings of a swallow, kept on jumping down the slope hoping either to disappear or something might happen and make the bear change his mind.

Running down the slope, the giant trees were racing against him while the bear’s fearful roaring was after him. All of a sudden, he found himself flying over a thick broken branch which, unexpectedly, appeared before him and made him fly then fall, rolling down the slope over and over again, seeing the ground going round him in all directions.

* * *

After a violent series of falling and rolling down, a stem of a big tree, with a ground bush at its bottom, stopped him from keeping on rolling—a golden chance for the chasing bear which was stubbornly after him, coming closer and closer with a faster pace!

* * *

Just a few meters from Tomas, the bear stopped to see the situation—Its fanged mouth, watering, and inspecting eyes sending tears. Tomas was giddy seeing everything turning around. He was badly hurt and almost unconscious. While staring with inspective beastly looks, the bear began to move steadily towards him, swinging his big head left and right triumphantly. The space between him and Tomas was diminishing steadily. He was still unable to come around completely. He was unable to run for his life.

* * *

Tomas was almost within the reach of the bear’s mighty claws. He looked helplessly at the mad beast which unfolded its huge body up towards the sky, stood on its back legs raising its head up like a giant monster, spreading its two sharply clawed hands, opening, to the fullest, its fearfully fanged mouth while sending horrible roars filling the uninhabited grim forest with loud echoes.

Almost unconscious, Tomas was about to be cut to pieces and eaten up soon.

The bear was in his last moment before assaulting down, as if from the sky, with his sharp claws and dreadful open jaws on the helpless, half-conscious Tomas, who knew he was facing his sure tragic end.

* * *

A gunshot wheezed sharply piercing the bear’s roar which stopped right away. Immediately after, Tomas saw the bear’s huge body falling down on him like a stone wall. The bear fell down on him. He almost felt smashed. Hot blood began to flow soon from the bear’s head on Tomas’ face. A humid smell filled his nostrils. Tomas kept silent, transfixed for about a minute, before he made his first move indicating that he was still alive.

He moved his half-awakened eyes left, then right; moved his heavily pressed body a few centimeters; and he then decided to push away the bear’s dead body and draw his own from beneath it.

When he tried to position his elbows on the ground for pushing away the bear’s body, he gave a sudden shout of pain. He realized that he could not move his left arm. He tried to push away the corpse of the bear with his right hand, but failed again. It was too heavy.

* * *

He stopped trying for a while, tried to breathe normally, then began to think of his hard situation. Noticing the deep silence of the forest, he felt apprehensive.

A sound of somewhat near steps came over to his hearing, rushing down the slope in his direction. He moved his head feebly towards the direction of the sound, anxious to see who the savior was. A figure of a tall man with a rifle in his right hand was coming down. Tomas figured out the case and felt comfortable. The man was now standing above at his head.

It was Father John Horner, the blasphemous—the man Tomas was seeking to kill!

* * *

Father Horner kept standing at Tomas’ head with his rifle ready in his both hands, looking cautiously at the bear to see if there was any sign of its being still alive. Then holding the rifle in his right hand, he squatted near the bear’s head, checked its eyes with the fingertips of his left hand. The beast was dead— the shot had pierced its brains and rendered it dead right on the spot. Father Horner looked comfortable.

- “You are safe now, son!” he said while looking over the place. On hearing the comforting and confident tone of Father Horner’s voice, Tomas felt secure. Father Horner hung his rifle on his right shoulder, got nearer to Tomas’ head, bending closer over his face. He looked strongly into Tomas’ half closed eyes, as if intending to read his mind. With the same strong tone, he said:

- “I will remove the beast away. Are you ready?”

Tomas, unable to speak, blinked with his eyes. Father Horner stood up vigorously; grabbed the bear’s head and began to remove it off Tomas very cautiously lest he should cause him any pain in case he was hurt. He dragged the beast’s body a few steps away, put it aside and came back to Tomas for more checking up.

He squatted again close to Tomas, looked into his face with clear kindness. The gracious looks on his handsome countenance seemed quite honest. Tomas felt he could trust his savior.

Father John Horner began examining Tomas’ body like a skilful physician.

- “Can you lift up your arms?” he asked.

Tomas slowly lifted up his right hand. John picked up a small branch near him and gave it to Tomas.

“Can you hold this?”

Tomas held it well. John looked comfortable. He took the branch from Tomas’ hand and asked him to raise up his left arm.

“Can you lift up your left arm?”

Tomas, who began to be more conscious, stared into John’s eyes with a sort of investigative look, then tried painfully to move his left arm. He was unable!

-“I don’t think I can,” he replied with a hint of pain on his face.

Father Horner looked worried, yet encouraging. Tomas noticed the plain merciful concern on his face. This gave him a feeling of more trust and comfort. Father Horner went on checking Tomas’ body tenderly. He touched Tomas’ left shoulder gently and soon realized that it was dislocated. For a moment, he looked pensive, then he seemed to have taken a decision.

-“You’ll feel some pain, but your arm will be relocated. We must do it.”

- “Go ahead!”

Father Horner skillfully relocated Tomas’ arm. Tomas took it with patience.

- “I am sorry, but you’ll soon be okay.” Father Horner sent a kind look into Tomas’ eyes.

- “Thank you,” Tomas said in a feeble voice with a look mixed with pain and thankfulness.

- “Now we shall have to make sure that your legs are not hurt,” Father Horner said, looking busy again.

Tomas moved his right leg a little up, and then he did the same with his left one. John looked contented. Then trying to stand on his feet with John’s help, Tomas felt a sting of pain sharp in his right ankle. He gave a short cry.

- “Your ankle seems to be hurt, too,” John said with clear concern, and squatted again to check Tomas’ foot. Tomas looked pensive while observing the busy stranger’s gracious dealing with him like a true merciful Father. He looked confused. John kept tenderly checking Tomas’ ankle.

“Your ankle is twisted, you cannot walk,” he said with worried features again; he then resumed with an encouraging smile.

“Don’t worry! I shall soon fix it for you.”

When he uttered the word “fix”, his smile widened even more. Tomas, understanding John’s hint, replied with a meaningful smile, too. Father Horner took his rifle off his shoulder and gave it to Tomas.

“Take this; you may need it.”

Tomas, amazed and confused, held the rifle reluctantly while looking into John’s face, trying to understand. Father Horner looked back in a way which seemed to Tomas quite meaningful.

* * *

“I need to leave you here for just a while, I’ll be back soon,” John said while rising up lively.’ Tomas looked at his face to see what he meant. “Don’t worry, I won’t be long,” John said, patting Tomas’ shoulder, then made his first step up the hill again from where he appeared the first time.

Tomas watched Father Horner’s tall figure fading away among the trees like a flying ghost. A serious thought seemed to strike his mind. He stretched his unharmed hand into a pocket inside his sweater, got out a picture, and looked at it. It was Father Horner’s. He stared at it fully, shook his head, then put it back in his pocket. He looked towards the direction from where his savior disappeared; paused, pensive for a moment, then looked around again.

Alone in such a desolate place, hurt and shivering of cold, he hoped Father Horner wouldn’t be long. He became pensive again. Confusing thoughts dashed crowding into his mind.

- “This is Father Horner, then!” he thought. “Is this the man I am after? Is he the man condemned to death and I have to execute him? How could this be? What an irony!”

He felt seriously confused and tried to forget a little about John Horner.

Except for the chirping of some birds twittering a bit far, the forest was still wrapped up in a mysterious silence. It was coming to him with the faint hissing of the sneaking wind and wet smell of the mud mixed with the decaying leaves and roots of the ground bushes and small plants of the forest.

He looked around, hoping that no fearful surprises would assault again. Although he was a brave young man, he felt somehow apprehensive and wished Father Horner back, soon.

“Where did he go?” Tomas thought. “Why did he leave me in such a damn place? Could he be somewhere, near, watching me? no .. no! Why should he? He doesn’t even know who I am, nor why I am here—besides he looks a good man.”

Tomas stopped talking in his mind for a while.

“A good man?” he resumed, “Oh, God! why am I after him, then? Why should I slay him as I am assigned to?”

He stopped thinking again, and with a decisive look on his face, he continued:

“I must execute him, no matter how he looks!”

Tomas found himself recalling the secret meeting between Reverend Amadeus Piratolos and him in Amadeus’ private study in Saint Paul Church in Ireland. The meeting began to replay in his mind like a flashback. He was watching the scene in his vision again, listening to Reverend Amadeus’ furious preaching:

- “Father Horner is no priest.” Reverend Amadeus denied. “He is a blasphemous apostate who turns people against God and His religion with his profane philosophy. He has become the servant of the devil himself. Nay, he has become the devil incarnate,” he affirmed. “The Lord is the Most high, and for His sake we must be prepared to do anything, and everything.”

This was what Reverend Amadeus told Tomas and warned him that it should be kept as a holy secret between them. He felt confounded. He looked towards the direction from where Father Horner disappeared, then, as if confirming to someone, he thought: “I am going to accomplish my mission completely! I shall execute this man, no matter what!”

* * *

A sound of rushing steps came over to his hearing. His heart jumped. He looked to the direction of the steps. It was Father Horner again. He was coming down the slope with a small bag in his right hand and something like a wrapped stretcher which he carried on his left shoulder. Tomas now noticed that the man was in his late forties. He felt really comfortable to see him back.

- “I am sorry I had to leave you alone for a while,” Father Horner said with an encouraging smile. He threw the stretcher on the ground, opened the bag, took a small tea thermos out of it, poured some in a big cup. Vapor clearly appeared flying over the surface of the golden liquid.

“This hot tea will help you be better,” Father Horner said, offering the cup to Tomas who held it with his both cold, shaking hands, then soon applied it to his lips while looking gratefully into father Horner’s face.

Father Horner stood up, looked around and went a few meters around to collect Tomas’ things. It was just a few minutes before he came back with Tomas’ hunting rifle and bag. He gave them to Tomas, took his rifle from him back, then walked to where he laid down the stretcher which he brought with him for Tomas.

“Now I must help you move on to this stretcher,” John Horner said. Tomas looked confused.

“Don’t worry! I made it myself with long beams, so that I could pull you up the hill to my place,” John said, comforting Tomas while sending a confident look into his eyes. “It’s easier than carrying you on my shoulder, you know.” Despite his pain, Tomas smiled comfortably.

* * *

With Father Horner’s help, Tomas was now on the stretcher. Horner took a small wool blanket out of the bag and, with active gentle hands, wrapped Tomas’ shaking body up.

“You’ll soon get warm and better,” Father Horner assured Tomas. “We are not far from my place.”

Tomas felt secure and thankful.