Angels & Imperfection

by Dan Arnold

  “John, why is it, every time I have a discussion with you, you start talking about God?” Christine asked.

  “I can’t talk about law and order without addressing the basis for morality. I am a servant of God. Somebody once said, ‘If there is no God then nothing really matters. If there is a God, then nothing else matters’. He is the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end.”

  “Well, it sure seems to crop up in any conversation we have, John. You’re kind of a religious nut job.”

  “Oh, it’s worse than you know. I’m an Ambassador of the Kingdom of heaven. This world is not my home.”

  She rolled her eyes. “See? Exactly what I’m saying, when you talk like that…”

  I grinned at her.

  While I’m aware such discussions can become uncomfortable for people, sometimes I have to clearly state my mission on earth.

  Thirty-Seven

  As I was driving to the shooting range, I spotted Dustin pushing his cart along, so I pulled over to talk to him.

  “You gots to confront that devil face to face,” Dustin said. “He don’t like it, so you gots to do it.”

  Today he was still wearing his sweatshirt, as usual, but at least the weather was starting to get cooler.

  “Is that what you do, Dustin?”

  “Naw suh, it’s not my fight.”

  “It’s everyone’s fight. Sooner or later, everyone has to choose which side they’re on. Unless or until you choose to serve the Lord, you are already serving the devil.”

  “Oh, He knows that I knows who’s I am, but I’m too wounded in the head to be in the battle,” he said, tapping his head. “But you, Mr. Angel, you is in the battle. You can’t get lazy, and you can’t fall asleep.”

  “I get tired, Dustin. Sometimes I just want to take some time off and let the world go on, without my interference for a while”

  He laughed.

  “Ole devil don’t need to kill you, or take you prisoner. He just needs you to quit fighting.”

  I nodded again. “Somebody once said ‘all it takes for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing’.”

  Dustin narrowed his eyes at me.

  “Most folks don’t even know there is a battle. They just wants to be left alone, long as they got their TV to entertain um, feed um lies and make um stupid. They follow that devil like sheep, doin’ what he want um to do.” He said.

  “Some people know what’s going on.” I pointed out.

  “Maybe so, but they figure the politicians and preachers can fight the good fight, so they don’t have to choose up sides, but you, Mr. Angel, you is in the battle.”

  “You can’t win if you don’t fight.” I pointed out.

  “I can’t fight no more.” He replied.

  “Sure you can, Dustin, as long as you speak the truth, and as long as you watch and pray, you’re in the fight.”

  “Oh, I is watching and praying, sho nuff.”

  I clapped him on the back.

  “I know you are. You see a lot, and you always speak the truth.”

  “I got me my rounds, Good Angel. You watch your back. That devil means to ambush you,” Dustin informed me as he set his cart in motion.

  So, as usual I was still enjoying my conversations with a homeless crazy person. Oddly, his advice is usually far more sensible than any of the expert talking heads on the television and radio. But then, I know where the message comes from, on both sides.

  Back in my car, I continued on to meet Tony and Christine at the shooting range.

  “Hey, Christine, I want you try this out,” I said, as I pulled the Taurus “Judge” revolver out of my bag. “It’s a popular home defense gun, because it shoots both .410 shotgun and .45 caliber shells. These low velocity shells make it safer for use indoors, especially in an apartment, where bullet penetration has to be contained.”

  She took it from me and hefted it.

  “It’s kind of heavy,” she said.

  “Yep, and even heavier when it’s loaded. It’s not a good concealed carry gun for most women, because of its size. However, it could be very useful in close quarters, if you were to keep it handy in your bedroom or wherever. Go ahead and load it. Put one or two .410 shells in, then .45s in the remaining chambers.”

  After she had it loaded, she fired on the target down range.

  “Wow,” she said, “I expected it to kick worse than that. The muzzle lift isn’t too bad either.”

  Tony and I had been helping her with her shot placement. We were emphasizing muzzle control and improving her stance and breathing. She was getting better at longer ranges. With this gun though, longer ranges were not really a consideration. We saw that she had placed all five shots tight in the ten ring at fifteen feet.

  “That’ll do,” Tony said. “Run a few more rounds through it. This time, try to reacquire your sight picture a little more quickly. The goal is to fire all of your shots just a bit faster, without losing accuracy.”

  Christine progressed quickly. She went from one shot per second, to five shots in about three seconds, all of them in the ten ring.

  “Outstanding,” Tony said. “I’d like to try it out.”

  He fired five rounds at twenty feet.

  “I’m not a big fan of revolvers, but this is a fine weapon for its intended purpose.” He said.

  When we had all shot the gun, I gave it to Christine.

  “I know you like revolvers. Keep it handy in your bedroom, but don’t tell anyone you have it. Do you use a housekeeper?” I asked her.

  “Are you kidding me, John, on the salary you pay me? I’m the only housekeeper at my place. I’ve even given up on getting Lori to keep her room clean. She helps out in the kitchen occasionally, but that’s about it.”

  I laughed.

  “I told you having a teenage roommate would offer some challenges.”

  She rolled her eyes, “You have no idea!”

  Tony interrupted.

  “On that subject, J.W., Orlando’s trial has been scheduled for Monday the twenty third of this month. That’ll be the end of him; you’ll only have to watch over Lori for a little more than a week.”

  “Oh, Tony, that’s great news!” Christine said.

  I nodded, grimly.

  “What’s the problem, John? You should be as thrilled as I am.” Christine said.

  “I guess so; I’ll be glad to see Orlando put away, but it means things are speeding up.”

  “What things, J.W.?” Tony asked.

  “I’m not exactly sure. How’s the murder investigation coming along?”

  “… Which one?” Tony asked.

  “… The Edward Nordstrom murder.” I reminded him.

  “Not. We’ve got nothing, officially. We’re pretty sure our person of interest, who we all know too well, had something to do with it, but we’ve got no hard evidence and he’s unshakable under interrogation. It looks like this one may go on the books as an ‘unsolved’ cold case.”

  I shook my head. “No, Tony, he won’t get away with it. He’s been slippery and calculating, but he’ll trip up. It’s just a matter of time now. He’s always been able to worm his way out of tight spots. He’s deceived his teachers, employers, superiors, and anyone else he wanted to, all of his life, and he got away with it. He’s very good when he’s forced into a corner. I wonder if he would respond differently if he thought he was safe, and he was the one in control.”

  “We’ve tried that angle, J.W. We’ve used some very good interrogation techniques, even suggesting to him he was brilliant and superior to our investigative abilities, but he just acted smug. He never gives up anything useful. Believe me, he’s a master at self-protection.” Tony said.

  “His whole life revolves around himself, and how clever and powerful he thinks he is. That’s how he’ll get himself nailed. He’ll go too far and then he’ll fall.” I predicted.

  “… From your mouth, to God’s ear, J.W.” Tony said.

  I shrugged.

  “We’ll see.”<
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  Thirty-Eight

  “How is your bible study coming along, Christine?”

  We were at the office. Lori was at school.

  “I’m kind of struggling.” Christine replied.

  “Struggling with what?”

  “I’m struggling with Jesus.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “What I mean is Jesus and God are talked about in the book of Luke as a matter of fact, suggesting Jesus and the Father are one, but I’m not sure I believe any of it.” She said.

  “Ahhh, there’s the rub. Sooner or later everyone comes to that place. It comes down to belief. It comes down to faith. Have you read any of chapter ten, in Luke’s gospel?”

  She nodded silently in response.

  “You might try praying and asking God to help you believe.”

  “How can I pray, if I don’t believe?” She asked.

  “God hears all prayers, whether you believe or not.”

  She thought about it for a moment.

  “I guess I’m more practical than that.” She suggested.

  “Did Jesus claim to be the son of God?” I asked her.

  “Yes.” She stated, emphatically.

  “Well then, practically speaking, there are only three possibilities. One, Jesus was crazy, completely irrational and just plain bonkers. I mean really, claiming to be the Son of God! Do you believe he was crazy?” I asked.

  “No, I don’t. He was far too organized and focused to be insane. If he were just crazy the religious leaders wouldn’t have bothered with him. It would have become obvious and they would have just watched him as his followers quit and his movement fell apart. Instead, they hated him and plotted his death, to shut him up.” She observed.

  “Then, the next option is he was a liar, just pretending to be the Son of God to deceive people and get them to follow him. Do you believe he was lying?”

  She shook her head, in response. “No, I don’t.”

  “Well then, there is only one more option. He was telling the truth and he really is the son of God.”

  “I’ve heard that argument before, you know? What if all of it, the whole Bible is just a bunch of weird stories. I know it’s unlikely, because the historic record supports so much of it. Are some parts true and other parts fable?

  “Well, there’s also the argument Jesus was just a political activist. There were a lot of them at the time. What do you think about that?” I asked her.

  “If that were true, why would anyone bother to write so much about his life? Why would anyone care about a defeated political wanna-be, who died two thousand years ago in a seemingly insignificant place in the middle-east?” She asked.

  “Perhaps he was just a great moral teacher.” I suggested.

  She considered the possibility for a moment.

  “No, there have been any number of great moral teachers, but they are not maligned and hated the way Jesus was. The Jewish leaders wouldn’t have convinced the Roman authorities to kill him, just for being a great moral teacher.”

  “We’re getting kind of low on other options Christine. Why would the life of one man be the cause for so much change in the world? Why would people suffer and die over the course of more than two thousand years, for being followers of a man who died in a different time and place from them?”

  That’s exactly what I’m struggling with.” She clarified.

  I nodded. “It is the single most important decision you will ever make. There’s a cost to be counted. A relationship with Christ is free for the asking, but it ain’t cheap. Some people will think less of you. You will change. It will determine the course of your life, and your place in eternity.”

  “Yeah, I get that. There will be serious ramifications to whatever decision I make. What will our relationship be, you know… between you and me, if I say ‘no’? She asked, tentatively.

  “Christine, I didn’t hire you with any hidden agenda or secret strings. Our relationship isn’t based on what you choose to do with your knowledge of Christ. You are free to be you. I love you and appreciate you for all of your strengths and abilities, not to mention your extraordinary beauty. I’m here to help, but I don’t have any requirements related to your personal decision.”

  She nodded. “OK, thanks.”

  “Just keep reading and believe in yourself. You’re intelligent and discerning. You’ll figure it out.”

  Thirty-Nine

  I started to spend the weekend all alone in my little, old travel trailer on the hunting lease. Out there I had no phone service, no electricity and no worries. Being all alone was only the first part of my weekend plan that didn’t work out.

  I had a swarm of visitors.

  Saturday morning, I woke up with fire ants in the trailer, and moving into my sleeping bag! There was a brief battle, involving close quarters and hand to hand combat, followed by me scrambling out of the sleeping bag, and ending with me spraying insect repellent all around the base of the trailer on the inside. Outside, I found the nest and it was a big one. It would have to be poisoned. I didn’t get to hunt that morning, because of the search for the nest, and I knew I also smelled strongly of bug spray. I made a trip to town.

  If you’ve never been the victim of a fire ant attack, you’ve never lived where they live. Fire ants burrow into the ground at least six feet. They haul all the tailings from their deep delving up to the surface and build a mound. There may be several mounds above one enormous underground nest. They are opportunistic feeders, and they swarm by the hundreds, even thousands, when agitated. Every bite is slightly venomous, extremely painful and you can expect to be bitten multiple times. Small children, people with allergies and the elderly can be killed by them. They will kill and eat anything that doesn’t escape from them, whether animal, vegetable, or me and you.

  Which is why, later in the middle of the morning, I was at the feed store in Henderson, getting supplied with fire ant poison to apply to the nest, when my phone rang. I had no cell phone service out at the hunting lease.

  “J.W. this is Christine. Can you come over to the apartment right away?”

  I could hear tension in her voice.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing is wrong, J.W. I just need you to come over and talk with Lori and me.”

  I was alarmed. She knew I was going to be out at the hunting lease for the weekend.

  “Well sure, Christine, but I’m in Henderson at the moment. I was planning to hunt later today. It will take me more than an hour to get there.”

  “I was afraid of that.” She replied.

  Why had she said she was afraid?

  “Are you OK?”

  “Yes, J.W., I just have a headache the size of an elephant. Get here as quickly as you can.”

  She hung up.

  On the drive to Tyler I rolled the conversation over in my mind. The first thing ringing the alarm bells was she had said she was afraid, then used the phrase “the size of an elephant,” Lori’s danger code. We had chosen it as the phrase Lori would use if she ever felt she was in danger.

  The second thing confirming the alarm was Christine had called me “J.W.” She never called me J.W. Tony was the only person who did. Christine always called me John.

  Calling me ‘J.W.’ might have been Christine’s way of telling me we were going to need Tony’s help.

  Combining Lori’s alarm code, along with her other language, indicated she and Lori were in serious danger.

  After a brief stop at my apartment, I drove to Christine’s apartment complex.

  Tony met me just outside the parking lot, a couple of buildings away, and completely out of sight from Christine’s apartment building. There were police cars, two ambulances, a fire truck, and the armored SWAT vehicle parked there.

  “Man, I don’t like this, J.W. I have guys in plainclothes observing her apartment. One of them went up the stairs and walked past her apartment. The door is closed, it appears to be undamaged, and all the blinds seem to be closed. With
those reflective windows it’s nearly impossible to see into an apartment in daylight anyway. If Orlando has found them, he’s already inside the apartment. We don’t have a clear view of the doorway from down stairs. We haven’t been able to get a camera under the door. We have no idea what’s happening inside her apartment.” Tony was very agitated.

  “Christine was clearly giving me a distress signal, Tony. They were in trouble when she called. I called back about thirty minutes ago, just to let them know I was on my way. She called me J.W. and urged me to ‘hurry over, before she loses her mind’. I’ve never heard her say anything like that, before today.”

  “I understand, J.W., and I agree something is happening in there, but we don’t know for sure what the exact nature of the threat is.”

  “Whatever it is, I’m going in.” I said.

  “Well then, I’m going with you.” He replied.

  “No. Whoever is in the apartment with Christine and Lori is expecting me and me alone. It might spook him if he sees two people coming.”

  Tony shook his head. “You wouldn’t let me go in there alone, J.W.”

  “We’ll play it the way it’s been presented. The people in the apartment are expecting me to be alone, so I will be. Tony, you can move in close and storm the place if there is any real trouble.”

  “J.W., I have the SWAT team staged near the building and standing by, ready to go. If you don’t come out, with the girls, within five minutes, or if we hear shots or anything remotely suspicious, we’re coming in.”

  “Thanks, Tony.”

  “You’re welcome. Now don’t go getting yourself killed. This Orlando cat is stupid and he’s a dangerous dude. Once you’re inside, we’ll give you five minutes, J.W., not one second more, and then we’re going to come in hot. Try to keep Orlando, or whoever it is, from looking out the windows.” Tony instructed me.

  “We don’t know for sure who is in there with them, but I’ll do my best.” I said.

  “Good luck.”

  “I don’t believe in luck.”

  “Yeah, I know.”