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The Fallen and the Elect

Page 47

by Jerry J. K. Rogers


  Chapter 23

  “So it’s set. Bishop Grielle reluctantly agreed that we can meet first thing Monday morning to collect our notes and prepare our information to be presented to him Tuesday or Wednesday,” Father Hernandez confirmed with his two associates as they drove to Michael’s house after visiting Stephen Dennison.

  “Yeah well, as long as I don’t have to deal with that serpent,” Michael commented.

  “We get it Michael, you don’t like the Bishop,” Sister Justine said.

  “What time do you want us to pick you up tomorrow morning?” Father Hernandez asked.

  “Ten o’clock’ll be fine. With all this traveling, it’ll give me a chance to sleep in and then take a morning run.”

  “Good, because when I talked to the Bishop earlier, he said he’d like to get an update on what we found out as soon as possible.”

  “What we found out?” Michael snickered. “We found out this is crazier than I think any of us thought. And we still don’t know why any of it happened.”

  The other two reluctantly agreed with him. Through the flurry of activity, the material they gathered resembled peripheral coincidences and circumstances more than facts around the cause of the deaths they were investigating, and whether in fact, angels were involved.

  Michael extracted his luggage and while he was walking up to his house, the front door slung open. Alicia ran out, hugged Michael, and gave him a long, passionate kiss as he stepped onto the front porch.

  “I missed you,” Alicia whispered.

  “I hate to admit I missed you too,” Michael replied as they both entered into the house.

  Father Hernandez speechless by what he saw, never suspected Michael and Alicia were involved with one another. Sister Justine scoffed and dismissed the event.

  “Sister, so you were involved with him before deciding to become a nun?” Father Hernandez asked as they drove away.

  “That’s history now Father, you know that.”

  “But he seems so … so …”

  “So much of a pain in the ass,” she quipped, forgetting formalities.

  “I was gonna say he seems so crass,” Father Hernandez noted, not expecting such a rough comment from the Sister. “Your colorful explanation I think even God would forgive. How could you have been with someone like him?”

  “Believe it or not, he wasn’t always like this.”

  “Stop joking,” the Father responded, wanting to laugh.

  “I’m not joking. He was a very nice guy,” the Sister said.

  “So what happened?”

  Sister Justine felt comfortable being more open with Father Hernandez. During their excursion, he’d proven himself dedicated to finding the truth. Father Hernandez didn’t seem politically motivated like many of the priests she’d worked with through the years on inner-city missions, feigning interest to build up their resumes. “Coping with what happened the first time in Mexico; I mean you have what’s thought to be an angel killing those poor souls in in the Church, then his mother, father, brother, and two sisters ending up missing, all the while we lived together for a short while before all of that. I decided to become a nun instead of just a missionary, so our relationship having changed with us drifting apart because of the church, marriage was out of the question. I think he even thought there might be a possibility of marriage in the priesthood, especially since over the years, married Anglicans and Episcopalians were allowed in the Church on a varying basis. With the Roman Catholic priest population severely shrinking, even before the disappearance, he thought the same hope existed for us, especially where I thought I wa…”

  Sister Justine caught herself and paused before continuing, deciding not to go into too much more detail with the preceding comment. “But because so much happened that made me consider my dedication to serve God in a greater way, he questioned his faith. Remember what I mentioned before? His faith was never that strong to begin with.”

  “You know, I’m not sure you or the Bishop mentioned why you thought there had to be an angel involved. I mean, this was before the mass disappearances around the world. Why then?”

  Sister Justine remained quiet for a few minutes. Father Hernandez knew she was formulating an answer. With her hesitation, he didn’t know if he could accept its genuineness.

  She finally answered. “Bishop Grielle approached Michael and me to investigate the first event down in El Refugio. At first, we were both intrigued. As you’ve learned, Michael was extremely interested in angels, but he found what we’d been told to be totally preposterous. We were filled with skepticism and debated if we even wanted to go down.”

  “Why did you?”

  “Because the request for someone to go down came from the higher stations in the Vatican, not the Holy Father mind you. We received a communiqué stating they believed there was every reason that this could have been a supernatural incident warranting a visit due to a divine inspiration. That’s all they told us.”

  “Divine inspiration? Rome? Really?”

  “Yes.”

  Speechless, Father Hernandez couldn’t decide on other questions to ask. He focused on his driving. Arriving at the address given for Sister Justine’s convent house, he was astonished to see a single dwelling.

  “Sister, you don’t reside with the other Sisters of your order?”

  The inflection in Father Hernandez’s voice inferred his disapproval. Sister Justine felt a burning sensation, similar to the emotions she’d experienced during the discussion concerning the oversight of the orders of nuns, the first night they were in Mexico. “The Sisters in my order are pretty much allowed to reside alone or in the house if they like. They’re more lenient as long as we remain faithful to our supported parishes.”

  This was partially true. For Sister Justine’s continued freedom to serve, she was beholden to Bishop Grielle and Cardinal Millhouse. More important, she was directed to clandestinely report directly to the Cardinal on extraordinary matters. When her liberal sexual past had been revealed during her studies, Cardinal Millhouse, who was then Bishop Millhouse, and Monsignor Grielle threatened to not allow her to join. Her allegiance had already been purchased years before while she was still studying and preparing to take her vows, knowing she wished nothing more than to become a nun. She would inform on those Sisters who might be straying from the rigid doctrinal precepts of their order and responsibilities. By doing this, it would prevent an “apostolic visitation” from the Mother Superior in Rome sanctioned by the Vatican office that deals with religious orders of nuns. She didn’t have the impulse to tell Father Hernandez she was subtly coerced to informally provide information relating to their investigation as well. It was a necessary compromise to ensure her order’s continued freedom. Sometimes thought to be cavalier, the convent in her order occasionally pursued neighborhood help programs without the full endorsement of their hierarchy or worked with local community groups advocating birth control. The Sisters considered it a means of outreach, feeling that it is best to minister to someone suffering though emotional turmoil and represent the Church as accepting all regardless of their actions.

  “I don’t mean to be judgmental about this Sister,” the Father pressed, “but is the Bishop aware of your circumstances? It seems so out of the ordinary.”

  Sister Justine’s expression communicated to the Father that she was annoyed. “We’ll see you tomorrow Father.” She grabbed her belongings and luggage from the car, refusing any assistance from him.

 

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