Andrea's Secret

by John Kelly

For several days following the accident outside Shoppingtown, and his release from hospital, two things constantly bothered Julian Knowles. Firstly, the likelihood of a reckless driving charge loomed heavily on his mind. He had been responsible for the accident and the police would certainly take appropriate action to deal with that matter at some stage. But of greater concern to him was the condition of his friend Maria Stewart who lay in a coma in hospital. Each day after his release, he visited her and sat by her bedside, holding her hand, talking to her. He was upset that his reckless action had led to this. Even though he realized that making a sudden right-hand turn was an impulse action, not premeditated, it did little to console him. This was not in keeping with his usual form when driving. It was out of character. He was careful, considerate of others, and his driving record vindicated that. Zero points against him over the past five years. Not one infringement. Nothing! What had caused him to abandon his best driving practice in such a thoughtless way?

  As a taxi-driver of ten years standing, Julian Knowles also felt he knew people and their weird little idiosyncratic tendencies better than most. He knew when people were nervous and uncertain. He knew when people were being evasive with something to hide. He knew when people were upset and trying to conceal it. He knew when people were being genuine and when they were not. And he was able to anticipate other drivers' conduct on the road. Ten years in a taxi had taught him things about people, their little quirks, and their behavioural patterns. He once picked up a psychologist and during the course of some amiable chat, asked the professional if he had received his training from a fully qualified and practicing taxi-driver. The psychologist was not amused and the remainder of the trip passed in silence. Julian realized that his off-handed comment had offended the sensitive nature of a professional who took great pride in his work. Julian was generally tuned into such sensitivities, which made it difficult for him to understand why he suddenly departed from all that he valued on the road, and commit himself to an act that left Maria Stewart in her present serious condition. It was this remorse and a desire to make reparations, which prompted Julian to seek some kind of spiritual enlightenment, and agree to accompany his wife Annette to the local prayer meeting that evening.

  As people began filing into the small suburban hall on the corner of Doncaster Road and Turner Street in Doncaster, Pastor Douglas Bilby stood at the door, greeting the faithful. Douglas Bilby was the Pastor of the Church of Mystical Seekers, a church movement he founded himself after his expulsion from the Anglican community where he had spent five years ministering to his flock. The expulsion was prompted by an alleged indiscretion with a member of the congregation. It was claimed that he was seen in a compromising position in the sacristy late one evening, with another member. What the claimant discovered was never revealed and the matter had been judiciously handled by church authorities, without any adverse publicity. When the matter was reported, Pastor Doug received a stern warning from his Bishop, but decided to leave anyway, and set up the Church of Mystical Seekers, which he funded from a family inheritance. Many of his congregation followed him out the door, including Michelle, a twenty two year old young lady, who played the organ at Prayer meetings he conducted twice weekly. While the identity of the person Pastor Doug had allegedly been involved with was never revealed, many in his community were under the impression that it was Michelle.

  "Good evening to you; lovely to see you," Pastor Doug said, as each member of the flock in turn filed past and entered the rented hall. Julian Knowles joined the queue, and presented himself with Annette. Although his mind was full of scepticism, his heart said that if there was anything he could do to help Maria Stewart, then he should at least try, regardless of how he felt about it personally. As people arrived, the low dulcet tones of the organ could be heard in the hall; soft soothing music, designed to relax the mind, and settle the nervous tension brought on by a day's work in the city. The faithful were familiar with each other and greetings extended to hugs and kisses. The gathering was a small but devout following of the Pastor. Regardless of their thoughts on the matter of the Pastor and Michelle, they had come to celebrate a common joy in the risen Jesus. Sinners all, their minds were focused on the Lord, not the private goings-on in the back room behind the podium.

  As Annette and Julian Knowles reached the front door, Pastor Doug noticed one unfamiliar face. "Good Evening Annette, lovely to see you," he said. "And who is this we have with us. Don't tell me this is Doncaster's resident taxi-driver come to visit our community?"

  "Pastor, this is my husband Julian," Annette said nervously. "He's come along tonight to see what it's all about."

  "And so very welcome you are too Julian," Pastor Doug replied, with a big cheesy smile that Julian recognized instantly as forced, but not without sincerity.

  "Always delighted to welcome newcomers," the Pastor said. Julian accepted the handshake and thanked the Pastor for his welcome and with Annette by his side then entered the hall. Even before the prayer meeting began, Julian could see that the people who had come were hooked on something. He could see that they were deep believers in what they were doing, and that their outward expressions of joy and happiness were the manifestation of that belief. Annette too, seemed to change, when greeted by her friends. She suddenly became very animated, smiling and laughing with people Julian had never met before, but who seemed to be on intimate terms with Annette. As they came to her, one by one, Julian realized that there was a side to his wife that he had not seen before.

  A few minutes later, the music stopped and Pastor Doug took to the podium, striding up to the front of the hall with athletic enthusiasm.

  "Welcome to you all tonight," he bellowed with deliberate eagerness, "especially those here for the first time. Let's begin our celebration, our joy in our re-birth, calling on the Lord as we sing, 'In the name of Jesus.' Michelle, would you lead us please," he said nodding to the young lady sitting at the organ.

  Right on cue, Michelle began the introduction and from the very beginning of the lyrics, the faithful burst into boisterous hand clapping, and hip swivelling gyrations, that would do justice to their children at any rock concert. Suddenly, propriety and conservatism were thrown out the window as the intensity increased. Not content to gyrate in the one place, there was a procession of movement around the hall, as Pastor Doug led the fray. Julian was taken by surprise. Ambushed! 'What the hell is this', he thought to himself as his wife Annette went wild with expression, her hands waving about above her. He stood there not knowing what to do. 'Join in? Fake it? Stand erect? Resist this foolishness? What to do?' He remained stoic, stunned and isolated. He hated how he was feeling. Even if he believed in none of this foolishness, it would be better to join in, look less isolated. Slowly, he felt an urge to cast aside his inhibitions, and began ever so tentatively to clap his hands, and sway a little to the left and right. After all, it was only music. Everybody gyrated to music at some time or other. He shut the lyrics out of his mind, and pretended he was at a party. 'Stupid,' he thought to himself. 'Whatever made me want to come here?'

  The singing continued, a constant repetition of lyrics, over and over again, until the end, when the entire gathering burst into spontaneous applause. Rousing cheers all round! Then, they were off again into another song, equally boisterous, equally repetitive and the whole process continued with more songs, each time under the very enthusiastic direction and leadership of Pastor Doug. As the devotion continued Julian surveyed the hall. 'All these people are expressing their faith without the slightest concern for who might be watching them,' he thought. As he watched, his eyes fell upon Michelle. He had not noticed her earlier as she faced away from the congregation. But now as she played, she turned her head, and to Julian's surprise he recognized her as the young woman he had taken home, that morning, the day of the accident; the woman who said she had been attacked by a man as she walked away from the bus that day.

  'I wonder if she reported the matter to the police?' he thought. Just th
en, a somewhat overweight woman, singing, and throwing her hands into the air, brushed past him and took up a position next to Annette. The two women looked at each other and smiled as they continued the singing.

  After several songs of praise, Pastor Doug called for a moment's reflection. "Praise you Jesus, praise you Lord," he said, his voice projecting around the hall. "Spirit of God, you have called us here tonight to experience a new relationship with you. You have brought us into the light to find new life in your great love for us, to find a new peace and contentment. You have called us to experience a deeper understanding of your will. Praise you Jesus." His comments sparked a rush of responses. "Praise you Lord, praise you Jesus," came the cries from the faithful. As he spoke Michelle began playing some very soft, reflective music. The meeting had very subtly moved up a notch, Julian observed. 'What would happen now?'

  As Pastor Doug continued with his ad lib praise, invoking the name of Jesus constantly, the faithful bowed their heads in meditation. They were licking up the words of Pastor Doug like honey off their fingers. Some began muttering to themselves quietly; an inaudible murmur that sounded like a humming bee circling around the petals of a flower. As Doug's praise intensified, so too the murmurings until, 'bloody hell, what on earth is going on here?' Julian wondered.

  Suddenly the hall erupted in mutterings. Suddenly the entire gathering was overtaken with a form of gibberish, strange sounding words that made no sense?. 'Kelia kumria setata conanimbria heliamate batena shumia shumata.' As the gibberish intensified so did the volume of the music. As the volume of music increased, so too did the voices of the faithful. Before long the voices reached a plateau and held themselves at that level. 'Eliosha comate coshanunda selia someanta shundia coliana munda.' As Julian listened and watched, he realized they were almost in perfect harmony. It was like a choral chant in a foreign language and to Julian's amazement, his wife Annette was caught up with the frenzy. As she garbled fearlessly, her eyes closed, her head erect, facing the podium, he noticed she was holding hands with the woman who had brushed past him earlier, the one who had taken up a position next to her during the singing. With both arms extended forward, they appeared to be in some kind of trance.

  Then as gradually as it began, it subsided, its softening soothing tone, retreating back to an eerie quiet. In a matter of a moment or two, the hall was silent, so silent the only audible sounds were the traffic noises outside, and the gentle calming breeze filtering though the open windows. Michelle stopped playing and stood, her head bowed in silence. "Let us wait on a word from the Lord," Pastor Doug said. More silence. "Let us wait for a Prophesy," he said, his eyes closed, his head bowed in expectation. Silence, dead silence. Then after a minute or two, it came from the back of the hall; a lone, deep, male voice. "I have come that you may have life and have it to the full," the voice cried out. "Praise you Jesus", the gathering muttered in reply. More silence interrupted only by an occasional cough or sneeze. Another voice from the side, this time it was a woman. "I have come to heal the afflicted," she proclaimed. "Praise you Lord," the gathering responded. More silence. "There is someone with us tonight who suffers," a voice called out. "The Lord is telling me that there is a woman here tonight who has great pain, great suffering." A murmur of sympathy rippled through the hall. As the prophetic impulses of a deeply devout congregation manifested themselves in several bible quotations, and the power of the moment filtered through, Pastor Doug played his ace. "Come forward if you are suffering. Come to the healing heart of the Lord." He cried out. No one moved. "There is a dark shadow hanging over us tonight," Doug pronounced. "There is one here tonight who suffers from cancer. Come forward to feel the healing power of the Lord." Not a sound could be heard. "The Lord is telling me he wants to heal you. Come forward. Fear not," he said, his head still bowed down.

  Julian, somewhat stunned by this sudden change of pace, turned his head slowly, searching for some movement among the faithful. Around him, all heads were bowed down, each person in the hall meditating deep within. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed an elderly lady take a step forward from the rear. Slowly, step, by step, she moved forward up the side of the hall, as Pastor Doug continued to make the call. "Come and feel the healing power of the Lord," he said. As the faithful waited, the silence was broken gently by subtle, soft, soothing music as Michelle resumed her seat at the organ. Pastor Doug also caught sight of the elderly lady now standing nervously at the side. "Come," he said and beckoned gently. The lady stepped forward and spoke in whispers to Pastor Doug. "Let us pray with Mary," he said as he beckoned those in the front row to come forward. "Let us surround Mary with the healing power of the Lord. Let us lay our hands upon her and call upon the healing power of God's Spirit." Several people moved forward and surrounded Mary, laying on hands and once again erupting into ecstatic gibberish. 'Shimdiamata cobera kioushu kadata manata eloshi a mera,' they muttered. Once again the perfect harmony enveloped the gathering with Pastor Doug's voice rising above the others, encouraging them to greater heights, greater intensity of prayer. As the voices increased in volume, so too, did the music. Julian, feeling more isolated than ever, observed Annette and the woman who had remained alongside her throughout, were now facing each other, heads bowed, holding both hands and chanting the gibberish. The elderly lady, Mary, had been provided with a seat by a considerate member, and the half dozen stood over her, laying on hands, praying in tongues. Julian's mind was now one of great expectation. He had heard of such phenomenon before; people with incurable illnesses, being healed at prayer meetings by people praying in tongues. 'Did it really happen? If it did then maybe it could work for Maria Stewart too.' He watched intently as the process of healing prayer continued at the front, not noticing that Annette and the lady who joined her now had their arms around each other.

  The praying began to subside, the music softened and the faithful stepped back from Mary, allowing her to stand and thank those around her. As she returned to her seat, Julian was confused. 'Was that it? Was she cured?' Nobody seemed to know or care. Mary resumed her place at the rear and Pastor Doug continued praising the Lord for His goodness to all.

  Thirty minutes later, Pastor Doug brought the meeting to an end, but not before reminding the faithful of the fiscal overheads associated with conducting these meetings. So, after generous notes of money were placed in the basket being passed around the hall, the meeting ended as it began, with boisterous singing and more praising. As the gathering began to disperse, Pastor Doug spoke to Julian while Annette and the lady who had been with her, adjourned to the restroom. "I hope you enjoyed the evening," said Doug. "Yes," replied Julian. "All very interesting. I'm curious to know what happened to the elderly lady though. Has she been cured?" he asked. "That is a matter for God, Julian," Pastor Doug said. "We can only act as instruments of his will. Only Jesus cures. Only time will tell if our efforts here tonight have been successful." Julian nodded in agreement, but retained a vacant, confused look. Pastor Doug asked, "What do you think it was that brought you here tonight Julian?" Julian wasn't sure if this was a trick question. He decided to give a straightforward answer. "There's this lady I know who is in hospital in a coma. I thought coming here might help her somehow," he said. Doug answered as if Julian's response was irrelevant. "Julian, the Holy Spirit brought you here tonight. The Spirit of God is moving within you. When we lay hands on someone and pray for them, we don't question whether or not we have succeeded." Julian decided to ignore the reference to the Holy Spirit, thinking that a door-side chat on that subject was not what he wanted right now. "What if your efforts haven't worked? Doesn't that bother you?" Julian enquired. "No." Doug answered quickly. "It is not our place to question the will of God. Where were we, when God created the universe, made the rivers flow, created the Sun? No, it is not our place to question the will of God. We are but his servants."

  As the two men talked, Michelle was tidying up, placing the music sheets in a cabinet alongside the organ. Julian noticed her and asked Do
ug "Who is that woman, the one who played the organ tonight?" Doug turned around and smiled. "Oh, that's Michelle. She has only been with us a few months, but she is a great asset to us. Without her music I don't think our meetings here would be the same. Er, why do you ask?" he added. "I met her last week," Julian replied. "She was a client. I drove her home one morning. She said that she was attacked by a man near the bus stop where she got off. I took her home. She was pretty shook up. I wanted her to go to the police." Julian answered. "Oh yes," Doug said, dropping his smile, and looking more serious. "She told me about that. She decided not to bother the police. It was a domestic thing, she said. I think it's all been straightened out now," he said unconvincingly, as he fidgeted for something in his pocket.

  As people said goodbye to Doug, Annette emerged from the ladies restroom alone, and joined Julian and Doug. "Time to go," Annette said to Julian. "Thank you Pastor. It was a lovely evening," she added. Doug smiled superficially. "Thank you Annette," he replied, relieved that Annette had unwittingly rescued him from Julian's questions. "Perhaps we will see you again Julian?" Doug said. "Yes, perhaps," Julian replied as Doug made a move to speak to other departing members.

  Julian and Annette began to move away. "Something a bit odd about him," Julian said to Annette as they walked toward the door. "Shush. He will hear you," she replied. "Who was that lady who was with you during the meeting?" Julian asked. "Oh yes, I want you to meet her. Her name is Margaret. Now where did she go?" Annette said looking around the hall. Margaret was nowhere to be seen. "It doesn't matter. There will be another time," she said.

  17.