Faith

By Mike Carver

"He's a fraud. Not even a good one."

This whispered comment came from a man standing in the back of the make shift chapel. Jason Carter had been looking on with disapproval since the beginning of the ceremony. He received several sharp looks from the believers around him. If not for the solemnity of the situation he would have received the shooshing of a lifetime. Unaffected by their disapproval he continued to watch, skeptically.

At the front of the chapel was a small group, illuminated by candle light for the benefit of the awe struck observers. There were two attractive young women in a more revealing parody of nuns habits and a middle aged woman laying on the table. Most eyes, however, were on the man in the center. He was tall and lean with classic good looks and just enough gray in his hair to help give him a distinguished air about him. That distinguished air was vital in his line of work.

A month ago he had come into town making incredible claims. Reverend Luther said he could cure people of their diseases with his miraculous power. The good reverend quickly set up shop in an abandon store and found a few volunteers to demonstrate his abilities on. After the first few miracles his collection box began filling up fast. Most of his demonstrations consisted of the reverend laying his hands on a person with a cold or the flue and saying a few prayers. A short time later they would be miraculously cured. Tonight, on the other hand, was a special treat.

The woman on the table had come from out of town to see reverend Luther. The name she gave was Lucy Cooper. Lucy said she had a tumor and that her doctors had only given her a year or two to live, at the most. The woman gave an impassioned speech in front of the congregation which convinced the reverend to use his divine abilities to help her. He was now going to remove the cancer without surgery, anesthetic or incisions. Reverend Luther always had a good turn out for his sermons, but tonight it was, quite literally, standing room only.

On the table, Lucy, occasionally moaned as she stared dully into space. She had been praying and fasting all day. When he came out, the reverend informed the congregation that she was in a meditative trance. One of the assistants held Lucy's hand and prayed. The assistant, also, happened to be standing so as to obscure the audience view of the reverend.

Revered Luther was reciting the Lords Prayer and preparing to remove the tumor. There were several types in incense burning in addition to all the taper candles and the air was thick with their odor. Reverend Luther was holding his crucifix as he prayed, quietly, using his other hand to trace circles on Lucy's stomach. Suddenly he stopped and his hand seemed to disappear into the patients stomach. After the initial gasps, not even the sounds of breathing could be heard coming from the audience. Red liquid began running out of Lucy's stomach, but the woman did not seem to notice that she was bleeding. The reverend started praying again, but this time his words came out louder and with more force. He began twisting his wrist, probing around in the woman's stomach for the tumor. Little bits of entrails began showing up in the blood and sweat formed on the reverend's brow. Reverend Luther repeated the Lords prayer, quicker and louder each time. The two assistants began joining him and Lucy appeared to remain oblivious to the whole thing.

He stopped, suddenly, and jerked his hand free, displaying an unidentifiable bloody mass. He dropped the mass while mouthing a silent prayer over his patients wound. Reverend Luther sagged against the back wall, looking thoroughly exhausted. When the reverend was out of the way, the second assistant rushed forward and pored water on the woman's stomach washing away the blood and revealing perfect, scar-free skin. The audience leapt to its feet and a chorus of praise and prayers rang out. Jason stepped back to avoid being trampled in the rush to the collection box.

 The church seemed much larger without the crowd of faithful packed into it. It was also much better lit than before. The track lighting had been hidden in the shadows cast by the candles. Unfortunately it also showed how shabby the church was. The store had been vacant for several years and little had been done to fix it up when the reverend moved in. Paintings of religious figures and Biblical scenes covered the worst of the damage. Jason could still see where the fixtures had been crudely removed and the holes spackled over.

"Good evening, reverend."

Reverend Luther was putting away fold up chairs used for the night's ceremony. The two assistants must have been up stairs. At the sound of Jason's voice he turned, clasped his hands in front of him and put on his best angelic face.

"Good evening, Mr. Carter. How can I help you?"

"That was quite a show you put on this evening," said Jason, conversationally.

"The Lords work is not a show, Mr. Carter. It was a miracle He has graciously allowed me to perform."

Jason pretended to study one of the religious icons placed about the room. It was a cheap piece of worn plastic he had probably found at a second hand store. This particular saint had seen better days.

"He has been very gracious to you lately. Everyone in the neighborhood is talking about your cures. It's hard to find anyone that doesn't have a friend or family member that has received one of your miracles. You must be a very busy man."

"It would be sacrilegious not to make use of the gifts He has been so kind as to lend me. It is my duty to make use of these gifts and to spread the word of His majesty. Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Carter? I was hoping to retire for the evening. The ceremony earlier left me quite drained."

Jason stopped looking at the icon and stared directly at reverend Luther. "I'll bet. You must have been mixing that fake blood all day. We both know your 'gifts' are little more than side show tricks. I've met many people who could perform the same feats, and most of them do it better than you."

"Mr. Carter, I..."

"Some how you have managed to persuade my mother that your smoke and mirrors cures really work. She is sick and she needs help. Real help. As in medical attention, but she wont go to the hospital because she doesn't like doctors and you have convinced her that she is cured! I want you to stop all this and tell her to go to the doctor or I'll expose you as a scam artist."

"Is she not feeling better, Mr. Carter," said the reverend, slowly and calmly, as if he was trying to convince a small child there was no monster in the closet. "The last time I saw her she was doing quite well."

Jason's face turned bright red. "You know what the power of suggestion can do. If she believes strongly enough she will feel better. For a while. No amount of talking is going to make her feel better if her liver fails!"

Even though the two men were roughly the same height, reverend Luther somehow managed to give the appearance of looking down at Jason.

"If the Lord decides your mothers time has come, who are we to say otherwise? To me she looks be in the peek of health, if that should change then that is His will and you will have accept His judgment. We all must join Him in paradise when He eventually calls."

"You arrogant son of ...."

"Mr. Carter! I must ask you to restrain yourself. This is a house of worship."

"Worship of the dollar, maybe! Are you going to come clean or do I need to have a conversation with the local papers?"

"Now, Mr. Carter." The reverends expression changed from "angelic" to "you poor wayward soul."

"If you have some sort of concrete evidence of misdoing I urge you to bring it forward so that we may clear up the matter. I am the last person who would want to see harm come to the people of this lovely community, that I have made my home." Reverend Luther had been steadily walking toward the front of the church. He turned abruptly, leaning forward with his hands resting on the table Lucy had occupied earlier. With the lights shining directly down on him the reverend looked more than a little sinister.

"On the other hand, if you simply intend to start spreading baseless lies I will be forced to take action to stop you. I am new here but I am sure the local authorities would have to take issue with such criminal acts." He moved around in front of the table so that the lights now produced a halo affect around reverend Luther's head.

"I will admit," continued the reverend, "that it is possible to counterfeit an event such as the one you witnessed tonight. This is hardly proof of anything, however. I have always said that these are manifestations of a divine gift and I will remain firm in that assertion. If your were to cast aspersions on my character without any way to validate them, the flock of faithful could become very distraught. They might even do something rash, and I would hate to see any harm come to you."

Jason strode up to the front of the chapel.

With his face inches away from the reverends he said, "I think a talk with Lucy Cooper could clear up quite a few things. I don't suppose you know where she is?"

"I believe Mrs. Cooper said she was going home."

"And home is...?"

"She did not say."

"Very neat reverend. I bet no one else will know where she went after the ceremony, either. In fact, I'll bet that I'd be hard pressed to find any record of Lucy Cooper's existence."

Reverend Luther spread his hands wide in an inviting gesture and said, "feel free to check with any of the other people that have received His gift. As you said, Mr. Carter, there are a lot of them."

Jason turned and strolled toward the back of the church.

"Yes, you've healed a lot of people of colds and flues. Self-terminating diseases. The virus runs it's course and you take the credit, and the donation they make afterward, of course."

"I am sorry I could not come up with anything better, Mr. Carter. Maybe if you are lucky a plague will strike tomorrow. Wouldn't that be lovely."

"You..."

"It is late Mr. Carter. Unless you have something more productive to discuss I would like to turn in for the evening."

Jason's face contorted briefly as if he was going to say something but restrained himself at the last minute. "Good night ... reverend." He spat the last word out, turning the title into an insult. Then Jason spun on his heals and walked quickly out the door before reverend Luther could get in another word.

Early the next morning Jason left to check on his mother, as he had been doing every day since she stopped going to the doctor. She lived in a retirement community next to a large stretch farmland. Everything was always well maintained. The sidewalks were free of litter, lawns were mowed to exactly the right height and all the bushes were neatly trimmed. Almost all of the yards displayed a variety of colorful plants.

Jason strode up the cobblestone walkway, as neatly kept as all the rest, and knocked on the front door. After a few seconds he turned the handle and opened the door.

"Mom! You have to start locking the door. It's not 1940 anymore." He shook his head as he closed and locked the front door.

A moment later a small elderly woman came bustling out of the kitchen. She was the very picture of the perfect grandmother. Blue hair, a little wide around the middle and a perpetual smile glued to her face.

"Jason, you're too suspicious! What have I got in here that anyone could possibly want? If they're desperate enough for a chocolate chip cookie to brake in, then they can just take them. Now come here and hug you mother."

He walked over and put his arms around her. The top of his mothers head did not even come up to his chin. Her husband had been even shorter and it had always amazed her that she had given birth to six foot four inch giant.

"How are you feeling today, Mom?"

"Just fine. After you left yesterday, Gladys and I went out back and played badminton. I trounced her good in three straight games. You should have seen the look on her face! She wouldn't speak to me the whole rest of the day." The elderly woman removed herself from Jason's arms, chuckled to herself for a while and went back into the kitchen.

Jason followed her and went straight to the cabinet were she kept her medicine. He noticed, without surprise, that there was exactly the same amount as yesterday.

"No, I haven't started taking them again," said Jason's mother. "I told you, I'm cured. Reverend Luther has fixed everything. Why can't you believe that?"

"Because I've seen so many con-artists pull this before. This is an old trick. It's all just sleight of hand and a few tricks fortune tellers have been using to rip people off for centuries."

"Revered Luther is not a con artist." Just then the door bell rang. "Hmm. I wonder who that could be." She hurried off to answer the door, leaving Jason to stew in the kitchen.

"Good morning, Helen." Jason's eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw as he recognized the voice of reverend Luther coming from the front room.

"Well, reverend Luther! I wasn't expecting you. Come on in."

Jason entered to see reverend Luther seated comfortably on the couch and his mother hovering over him.

"Good day, Mr. Carter. I had not expected to see you here," said reverend Luther with a beaming smile. Jason made a small grunt in response.

"Jason, dear. Could you get a glass of water for the reverend, please."

He returned to the kitchen and quickly filled a glass, not wanting to leave his mother alone with the reverend.

"Thank you, Mr. Carter," said the reverend as he tested the water.

When she was finally sure her guest was comfortable, Helen, at last, sat down.

"So what brings you by, reverend?" she asked.

"Your son and I were speaking last night. He is very concerned about your welfare," the reverend paused to take a drink. "He fears that you are only experiencing a temporary remission in you condition and that you are not really cured at all."

"He's always been so suspicious," Helen said, exasperated. "Jason was a G-man, you know." She was beaming. Helen had always been proud of her son's career.

"No. I was not aware of this," said reverend Luther as he shot Jason a glance out of the corner of his eye.

"Yup. He used to go around the country arresting swindlers and con artists. Now he sees them everywhere. What's a mother to do?"

"Be patient, Helen," said the reverend as he patted her arm. "He only has your best interests at heart. Perhaps he would be reassured if you were to submit to a medical examination, as a matter of formality."

"Yah, mom. Why don't you just let the doctor have a look at you. If he says nothing is wrong, then I'll stop nagging you."

"No." said Helen firmly. "Nothing good ever happened to me in the hospital. I even had you at home, Jason. Your father was against it but I insisted."

"It's just a check up. What can be the harm in that?" pleaded Jason.

"They'll find something wrong with me. They're just a bunch of money hungry, no good.... Excuse me revered!" Helen blushed and put her hand over her mouth.

Jason rolled his eyes. This was an old argument between them.

"Listen, mom. The doctors are not looking to find something wrong."

"Jason, No! That is that." She looked down, embarrassed at losing her temper. "You used to have Faith. You used to go to church with me every Sunday. Why can't you just accept this?"

"Excuse me," said Helen, with out looking up. "I have to check on my muffins in the oven." She quickly got up and went into the kitchen.

Reverend Luther stood up. "Well, Mr. Carter, your mothers mind seems very firmly made up."

"Get out," said Jason in a low menacing voice.

Reverend Luther opened his mouth to say something, but the look on Jason's face convinced him not to say it. Instead he closed his mouth and left quietly.

Later in that week Jason was plodding through a pile of paper work in his office when he received a phone call from Frank Seville. Frank had been his partner in the FBI and had made a career out of the Bureau.

"Hi, Jason. I've got something for you on that description you gave me," came the voice from the other end of the line. "The guy you're dealing with is Albert Crosworth. He's been charged with fraud 14 times. Only convicted twice. At the moment he has a warrant for his arrest for a mail fraud scam in Idaho."

"Really? That's great. Can you fax me the information," asked Jason.

"Sure thing."

"Great. I owe you one, Frank"

"What do you mean 'one.'" Jason laughed and hung up the phone. A few moments later the documents came rolling off Jason's fax machine. As soon as they were done he grabbed them and rushed out the door.

"Rose, I'm going to my mothers for lunch," he yelled to his secretary on his way out.

For once Jason did not care that his mother had left the door unlocked. He rushed in with, what he hoped would be, the final proof to convince his mother to go back to the doctor and stop listening to reverend Luther, or Albert Crosworth.

"Mom? Were are you?"

Gladys, his mothers friend, came out of the kitchen.

"Hi, Gladys. Where's mom?"

"Oh, Jason!" Only then did he notice that she had been crying.

"Oh my God," he exclaimed. "What happened?! Where is she?!"

"She collapsed, Jason." Gladys had to stop and dry her eyes. "The ambulance took her to the hospital half an hour ago."

That was all Jason needed. He barely touched the ground as he raced back to his car and took off, squealing his tires and leaving a layer of rubber on the ground.

He arrived at the hospital in record time and headed straight for the emergency room. The nurse calmly insisted on finding out who he was, and who he was looking for. Luckily she was used to dealing with hysterical people or the process could have taken all day.

Eventually he found out that his mother had been admitted and treated. Now she was upstairs under the care of her doctor. Jason raced for the stairs, not wanting to be slowed down by the elevator. When he arrived at his mothers room she was asleep and her doctor was filling out her chart.

"Doctor, how is she doing?" asked Jason in an urgent, hushed tone.

"I think she'll make it," said the doctor. "Stopping her medication and treatment has let her condition become fairly advanced, but I think we'll still be able to help her and get her back on her feet in a few weeks."

Jason looked down at his sleeping mother and held her hand.

"There are a few things we need to talk about," said the doctor. For several minutes all that could be heard was the sound of the machines as they tracked Helen's progress.

"Can it wait?"

"Sure. For a little while."

"Good." Jason let go of his mothers hand and made his way back to his car. He had to go and see reverend Luther. First he needed to stop by his house. When Jason retired from the FBI his co-workers had chipped in and bought him a nickel plated pistol. He had taken it out to a shooting range, periodically, to make sure it was still in good condition and that he was still in practice. Now Jason intended to make use of that practice.

He pulled up out side the store/chapel where the reverend and his assistants were living. The door was locked but Jason was not in the mood to deal with minor details so he simply kicked in the already weak door. Inside it was pitch black. Reverend Luther had never bothered to take off the wooden planks that were nailed over the windows. Jason found the light switch and hit it.

Jason was furious. Everything was gone. The sneaky bastard had skipped town ahead of him. In a panic to use up his rage on something Jason raced through the house. All the rooms were picked clean. There was no sign that anyone had ever lived here. Finally he ended up back in the chapel.

Dejected and a little numb, Jason headed back to the car. His anger and rage drained away and was replaced by a sense of futility. The only thing Jason could do now was go back to the hospital and stay with his mother. On his way out he stumbled and tripped over something. Jason bent down and picked up the battered, plastic statue of a saint. All that was left of the miraculous reverend Luther.