by Martin Roth
Pastor Thomas has just left my apartment. He says it was interesting that Grant’s troubled conscience - which caused him to go around asking forgiveness of people he might have offended, and then try to solve unaided the Indonesian mystery - had initiated my involvement in the affair, while it was Tom Traherne’s troubled conscience that thwarted the operation and kept me alive.
Tom has been in Barwon Prison for several months now. The pastor visits occasionally, and relates that he is surprisingly matter-of-fact about his ordeal. With his self-deprecating sense of humor he tells an amusing story of how Indonesian colleagues arranged a fake passport for him, but did such a lousy job that the stitching came undone and his photo fell out. Some of the visa stamps they used were many years out of date. He was apprehended at Los Angeles airport.
The judge at his trial said Tom was one of the most cooperative witnesses he had ever encountered, eager to reveal all he could about the Indonesian conspirators. The fact that he had phoned the Melbourne police to reveal full details of the bomb plot also counted in his favor. But he was involved in a massive terrorist conspiracy that led to three deaths - Grant, Papa Guzman and Matt the Surfer - and it will be quite a few years before he is out of prison.
Rohan wrote a dynamic series of articles on the whole affair, and reckons he’s in line to pick up another Walkley best journalist award. He’s also working on a book.
Melissa never got any dancing work. But it transpired that Grant had had some secret trust funds, isolated from all his dodgy financial dealings, and in his will he had left these to Melissa, along with the house, so she is financially secure.
She comes to church fairly regularly. It seems she appreciates the companionship. It’s certainly helping her keep off the pills.
The pastor says that one day Briony will become a regular too, but she isn’t quite ready yet. I’ve spotted her on a couple of Sundays, but she only stayed for the singing and the prayers. She left as soon as the sermon started.
I became a minor celebrity during the trial, with the commercial television networks competing to pay me for an exclusive interview. I took twenty thousand dollars from Channel Nine, and gave it all to Maria, Papa Guzman’s widow.
I learned that fame does not last long, and within a couple of weeks I was again anonymous. A lawyer is handling my application for residence in Australia, and everyone assures me I’m certain to get it. I’m finding plenty to occupy me while I wait. I’ve got some part-time work teaching Bahasa and doing translations. I’m also studying for my private investigator’s license.
Pastor Thomas still claims that I am on a journey, and that deciding to follow Jesus as a teenager was exactly the right decision. But he reckons I made the mistake that many people nowadays make with spirituality. They don’t realize that obedience to God is necessary. I took a wrong turning when I kept trying to take matters into my own hands, instead of letting God be the boss.
I’m not sure how you let God be the boss. I asked the pastor if it means each morning God telling me which socks to wear and whether to have toast or cornflakes for breakfast. And anyway, how do I know when God is talking? The pastor told me not to worry. He said prayer and an open heart are the key, and in His own time and in His own way God will start working in my life.
Pastor Thomas is visiting me regularly to talk about the Bible, and I have discovered some bits of it I had never really noticed before, like most of the Old Testament. Recently he has been teaching me about creation and about how humans have screwed up their relationship with God.
He has also told me how the Bible commands us to turn the other cheek to our enemies.
But what does this mean?
What would have happened if everyone in East Timor had turned the other cheek when the Indonesians invaded our country? Wouldn’t we still be under oppressive military occupation?
Yet the Indonesian invasion led to one of the great barbaric genocides of modern history. We lost a third of our population. Turning the other cheek would have saved those lives.
I’m really not sure what’s best, though I do know that blind revenge – an eye for an eye – is no answer. So when I’m lying on my bed brooding about Jacinta and Grant and Briony and Alberto I often find myself pondering these questions.
Speaking of Alberto, he’s in Barwon Prison with most of his men. He’s going to be there for a long, long time. But I might be seeing him again soon. The pastor wants to drive with me to the prison next week.
I’m not excited about the prospect. For some reason I’m even a little nervous about meeting him. I don’t know why. But I know that I should go.
I’m starting to feel that I need to forgive him.
THE END
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Read on for an excerpt from Hot Rock Dreaming, second in the Johnny Ravine private detective series.