by Stan Mason
His next patient was an elderly lady of eighty years of age. ‘What’s the trouble?’ he asked.
She eyed him with scepticism as her lips trembled. ‘I don’t think you can help me,’ she began. ‘I’ve got arthritis in my arms and legs. The doctors only give me tablets for it but they don’t work. They make me feel worse. I can’t sleep because of the pain. I’ve come on the chance that you can work a miracle. But let me tell you this. I’m a Christian and I’m not disposed to worship lots of other Gods. I want you to know that from the start.’
He smiled at her amiably. The poor woman was riddled with pain yet she was unwilling to give up her faith even if such a deed could help her. ‘What’s your name?’ he asked her.
‘Elsie Johnson,’ she replied. ‘I’m eighty years old.’
‘Well, Elsie,’ he told her calmly. ‘As you so rightly say I can’t help you in the normal way but I don’t want you to change your faith. But perhaps this will help you.’ He released her hand to removed a strap from his wrist. ‘This is a bio-magnet. It works its wonderful powers on the muscles of the body for those who’ll believe it will work. I want you to promise me you’ll wear it for a whole month. If nothing happens, come back to see me. If it does work, you’ll be able to sleep at night. Will you promise me that?’
‘It’s worth a try,’ she commented. ‘All right. I’ll do it for a month and see what happens.’
He looked for his next patient eagerly. It was going to be a long day having to deal with so many people but he reckoned it was worth it. Xantha Vesta would be proud of him. He was spreading the word and following in the footsteps of Jesus Christ. The same operation had worked for him over two thousand years ago. Perhaps the Goddess of Love thought that the messenger was the person to repeat the change in religious belief. He had never thought of himself in that vein. Perhaps a new Holy Bible would be written with Warrior’s name and those of his disciples to replace the one concerning Jesus Christ. With the assistance of the Goddess of Love it could well happen that way. Anything could happen!
***
The healing surgery ended at four-thirty that afternoon. When it had finished, Warrior felt extremely stressed. He decided to go for a long walk to get some fresh air and clear his head. The process of healing had taken a great deal out of him and he needed some time to recover. Sheila Warrior had taken her children to school that day and she was at a loose end for an hour having collected them and taken them to a park. When she returned to the house, she was disappointed to learn that her husband wasn’t at home. They had a lot to discuss and she believed that she had found the quality time in which to do it. Her husband’s mistress, was sitting in the lounge reading a magazine, when she entered. Now that they were alone, it seemed to be a perfect time to discuss their situation in the house and Warrior’s absence gave her the ideal opportunity to do so.
‘He’s not here!’ Rebecca told her coldly. ‘He’s gone for a walk after healing practice. He won; be back for some time.’
‘It gives us a chance to talk. I’ve been meaning to get you alone.’
‘Talk!’ repeated Rebecca slowly, lowering the magazine. ‘What about?’
‘Don’t be coy!’ challenged Sheila sharply. The comment was fired back almost in anger. ‘You know what we have to talk about!’
‘I’ve not idea,’ came the reply. ‘I’ve no interest in anything you have to say to me whatever it’s about!’
‘Oh, really!’ snapped Sheila, sitting down in an armchair opposite her. ‘I think we do. First of all there’s your presence in this house.’
‘My presence in my house!’ she corrected curtly, curling her lip. ‘This place is registered in my name. My name’s on the lease not Stephen’s. I have the say who stays her or not and let me tell you missy, you’re getting on my nerves. Your days here are truly numbered!’
‘I don’t think so,’ retorted Warrior’s wife. ‘It’s the other way around. Your days are numbered!’
‘How do you make that out?’ Rebecca dropped the magazine on the settee and leaned forward menacingly. It was possible to cut the atmosphere in the room with a knife.
‘Because he’s my husband and, if we have to move somewhere else, we shall. Naturally, if we do that, you’ll be left behind. You realise that you’ve lost him, don’t you? He loved me before and he loves me now. You’re just an incidental woman who looked after him when he got lost.’
‘You’re completely out of your mind, woman!’ came the response. ‘Completely mental! What a lot of drivel comes out of your mouth. He’s mine now! You had your chance and blew it. All the love you gave him has gone.’ She rose from the settee. ‘Well I’m not listening to any more. I’m going into the bedroom. My bedroom with Stephen... not yours! There’s only one thing I hope for and that’s when I come out you’re gone!’
‘Before you go, let me say you’ll have to face the truth, Rebecca. You’ll fade into the background very quickly. You see, Stephen won’t be able to service two women at the same time. At least I presume he’s making love to you as well as to me.’
Rebecca halted as she reached the door. There was a long silence before she responded to the comment with her eyes blazing. ‘What did you say?’
‘I said he can’t expect to continue to have sexual intercourse with both of us. I can’t be plainer than that! Although I can’t see any reason for him not to do so providing he has the strength. But I assure you he’s making love to me. I don’t know whether he’s doing the same to you. Of course, you don’t have to tell me.
‘Liar!’ spat the mistress angrily. ‘Liar!’
‘No I’m not,’ countered Sheila boldly. ‘You can ask him yourself. We made love in the bathroom only two nights ago. He forced me down on the floor and we made violent passionate love. I still have a couple of bruises to show for it. But I’ve got to thank you. You helped him improve his sexual prowess. He did things he never used to do before. Oh, yes, he was like a tiger... a real tiger!’
Rebecca’s face was a picture of disappointment. If Sheila was telling the truth, her lover was two-timing her in favour of his wife. She would have dismissed the information as false had not she been told that the incident occurred in the bathroom because there was evidence that something had happened there with the broken tiles and disarray of some bathroom equipment. And, no doubt, Sheila could show her the bruises!
How could he do such a vile thing! He had sworn that he had no feelings for the woman now she claimed he had seduced her. She recognised that he had shown her less attention over the past few days but she put it down to the arrival of his wife and his children. He was also under enormous pressure knowing that his wife wanted to win him back and continue family life with him again. Now the woman was willing to say anything to upset the apple cart.
’I know you’re lying!’ accused Rebecca even though she knew it was the truth.
’Why should I do that?’ came the response. ’If it didn’t happen it would be no skin off my nose... but it did. It was very later... after one o’clock in the morning. I couldn’t sleep so I went into the bathroom to have a shower. I’d just finished when the door opened and Stephen came in. He couldn’t sleep either. The light was off and we spoke a few words, then he leaned forward and kissed me. We were both naked. He took hold of me and it happened there and then. Check it out with Stephen if you don’t believe me. He’ll verify it. But I tell you one thing. We made passionate love together, better than the old times,... fully... satisfying.’
’I’m still not sure I believe you,’ chided the other woman almost in tears.
’Believe it or not. It doesn’t matter to me. A few minutes later, I went to your bedroom and called Stephen out into the hall. We went into the lounge and I spoke to him privately while you were asleep. You see I have this unique situation... a talent you might call it... for knowing when I’m pregnant as soon as it happens. Well a f
ew minutes after we made love, I knew that I was pregnant with our third child. And that’s the way it is at present. He’s going to be a father again and I’m carrying his child.’
Rebecca stared at Sheila as though she had just arrived from another planet. ’You’re pregnant!’ she echoed, ’with his child?’ Her world started to crumble beneath her feet.
‘Yes... with Stephen’s third child.’
A smile suddenly broadened on Rebecca’s face as her mind blossomed with a spate of lateral thinking. ‘I get it!’ I wondered why you changed your attitude so quickly. One minute you hated him, the next you wanted him. Suddenly it all changes and your Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, falling over yourself to get him back. I wondered why the anger faded so quickly. Now I recognise the truth. You got yourself in the club with another man on a one-night stand, didn’t you? You had sexual intercourse with him and now he’s left you, you want to pass the brat off as Stephen’s child. Very cute! And, of course, Stephen’s very useful to you... he’s your husband. He can give the child a name. I see it all now!’
‘You see nothing, Missy!’ retaliated his wife coolly. ‘There was no other man in my life... no boyfriend... no one-night stand. It all happened here in your bathroom. As I said, check it out with him. He’ll put your right.’
Rebecca looked crestfallen. It became patently clear to her that the other woman wasn’t bluffing. How could she? She was taunting her into asking her lover to tell her the truth. However, until she heard the explanation from Stephen’s lips, she would disbelieve the accusation of his infidelity... if she could call it that because Sheila was still his wife. Nonetheless, she felt cheap and angry at the probability of his disloyalty. But what could he do about it? If she left him, it would be a decision she was likely to regret. On the other hand, did he really want to go back with his wife or was the episode in the bathroom a one-off aberration. Sheila claimed that she was pregnant again. That could turn out to be a real problem. If it was true, how would Stephen cope with it?
‘Supposing it is true and you are expecting his child,’ challenged Rebecca aimlessly. ‘It doesn’t mean he’s going to be your husband in the true sense again.’
‘Is that what you really think?’ Sheila recognised that she now held the reins and she intended to guide the situation to the way she wanted. ‘The first thing he’ll do is to kick you out. The pull of a third child will be too much for him to deny. In any case, now that we’ve continued our sexual relationship, I resent him sleeping with you. He has to sleep with me. I suggest it’s your turn to sleep on this settee.’
The other woman bridled at the remark. ‘Not a chance!’ she snarled irately. ‘You go to Hell! If you want to find another place to live that’s all right with me... but you keep out of my bedroom!’
‘And what if Stephen agrees with me? What are you going to do about it?’
‘He wont. You’ve forgotten one very important thing. He’s a messenger of the Gods. He has a new aim in life. Nothing’s going to influence him away from that... not his wife... nor his children. Look at these images on the walls. These are the faces of the Gods and Goddesses he sees in his visions. Do you really think he’s interested in the life you offer him?’
‘I’ll follow him and his aims to the ends of the Earth,’ retorted Sheila on the defensive.
‘What would happen if you did get him back. Your attitude would quickly change. You’d lose him again within a month!’
Sheila suddenly realised that her husband’s mistress was right. She had no interest in her husband’s cause. In the heat of the moment, vying with his mistress, she had lost sight of her goals. If she and Stephen took off together, leaving his mistress behind, she wouldn’t want him any more... not if he continued his ridiculous role of trying to make people pray to the Gods and Goddesses in the celestial kingdom. It was really the last thing she wanted but she was determined not to lose face to the other woman.
‘Let’s ask Stephen what happened between us the other night,’ she pressed. At least if she didn’t want her husband back she could cloud the issue between him and his mistress.
‘Very well,’ responded Rebecca, her heart feeling heavy inside her. ‘We’ll ask him,’
They waited almost fifteen minutes in absolute silence before Warrior’s footsteps could be heard approaching the door. He had no idea what was waiting to greet him inside. As he entered the room, the two women pounced on him like wolverines both demanding what he had done in the bathroom two nights earlier. He could only recall his seduction of Xantha Vesta and that Sheila had told him that she was pregnant with his third child. His defence was to refrain from answering any of their questions by saying that he couldn’t remember. His excuse was that he had been sleepwalking and that he couldn’t recall anything that had happened. If they didn’t believe him, it was their problem.
Sheila was furious that she was unable to prove that her husband had seduced her. She knew without doubt that he was lying and that there was a newly-conceived child within her. How could he lie so blatantly? He knew exactly what he was doing when he pulled her down to the bathroom floor. Now he told her that he was sleepwalking. It was a cop-out!
The messenger was determined that the conflict between the two women was not going to be allowed to become a major problem for him. He refused to be drawn into adverse domestic matters. He had a role to fulfil... a task to deal with... one of primary importance to two worlds... the celestial kingdom and Planet Earth!
Chapter Twelve
The news of Warrior’s success at his healing surgery soon became known far and wide. Many people in desperate need for treatment often found that they had to travel abroad where faith healers existed in abundance, charging excessive amounts of money for their services... and some of those were fakes. In all cases, the fees were less important... it was cure or survival that counted. After the newspaper article written by Mark Sutter of The Bulletin identified the messenger as a healer, he establish Warrior as the master faith healer for all and sundry with the headline that read: “Mystic Healer Cures All!’ However Warrior recognised that the article had been written with a great deal of poetic license... certainly when other boring articles appeared regularly in the newspaper. People grew tired of mundane matters such as garden fetes, weddings of people they didn’t know, letters of complaint, drunk and disorderly cases in Court, and a miscellany of odd ordinary stories about incidents and people. Suddenly it was possible to follow up a story of essence... about a man who could cure people of their illnesses and ailments! Sutter visited the messenger’s home one morning when it was filled with patients. Some of them were actually queuing up outside. He interviewed most of them, writing notes down quickly on a pad, securing enough information to report in the next edition of the newspaper. Warrior actually succeeded in treating all of them by the end of the day which made the reporter even more eager to write a follow-up story about the man and his powers... likening him to Jesus Christ.
‘You’ll be delighted at the next article I’m going to write,’ the reported told him.
Warrior appeared very humble. It was the way he felt about his healing powers. They were a talent he had been endowed with at birth and he was extremely grateful for it. He didn’t mind anything that Sutter would write about him as long as he didn’t compromise his healing powers. However he had nothing to fear. The Bulletin was on a roll. The stories about the healer helped to increase the circulation by ten per cent.
In every aspect of life there are those who are for and those who are against. It matters little about the cause, the subject or the topic. Some people will support it, shouting from the rooftops, while others will be against it, battling hard to prove that the argument is wrong. Warrior’s cause was no different whether it related to his healing powers, of which many people were decidedly sceptical, or his religious views which many people discounted as the ranting of a heretic. To his surprise, one morning, the po
stman brought a sack of mail which contained a host of letters of support, many more of condemnation, and some which contained cheques, postal orders or cash to allow him ot continue the cause. Warrior, Rebecca, Maidley and Guildenstern sat in the lounge reading them one by one, feeling over the moon to have made such an immense impact on the public.
‘Look at this... just look at this!’ cried Rebecca excitedly, holding up one of the cheques. ‘Money... real money... a hundred pounds!’
Guildenstern was equally excited when the letter he opened produced a ten pound note. As they continued to open the mail, they came across a plethora of donations in aid of their cause. They placed them carefully into three piles. The first was allocated to cheques, the second ot postal orders and the third to cash It was patently clear from the results at the end of the session that the messenger had sufficient money to continue his work for several months ahead. Naturally, many of the letters were scornful or rude, denigrating his attempts to commit religious calumny, demanding that he cease such vile deliberations. Such writers called him a variety of despicable names claiming him to be irreligious, evil, contemptible, and even declaring him to be Satan himself. He could not understand why they should call him Satan when he asked people to pray to the Gods and Goddesses in the celestial kingdom. Some said that they believed his message, others told him they understood what he was saying but preferred to remain Christians because they had been brought up in the faith and it was too difficult for them to change. Nonetheless they supported him and did not show any kind of disaffection. He was not surprised to find some well-known names among those who fiercely condemned him including one eminent bishop. The fact that so many people had taken the trouble to write to him was a forerunner of the future. It was highly likely that the mass of mail would be followed by another one the following day, and a further one the day after. He was clearly making substantial headway in a very short time and mentally thanked Brendan Moses, the tracer, Mark Sutter the reporter on The Bulletin, as well as all those in the national Press who had written articles about him. Without them, he would have had to plod on with local meetings to very small audiences making little or no progress. All those in the celestial kingdom would certainly be delighted with his headway. Although it had seemed an impossible task from the start, he had quickly turned it into a success story with the help of the Goddess of Love. Her vision sprang into his mind and he hoped to be able to see her shortly although there was no point in thinking about her because she wouldn’t appear until he needed her assistance.