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Authors: Randy Alcorn

Tags: #Christian, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Religious, #Mystery Fiction, #African American, #Christian Fiction, #Oregon, #African American journalists

Dominion (66 page)

BOOK: Dominion
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“I believe that, though I admit I’ve never given it much thought. I did hear a sermon on angels once.”
“Just
once?
You’ve been going to church for how many years, and just one sermon? Angels are so much more important than that. They have wisdom and insight people don’t. Look,” Esther reached over to one of the tables, “here’s a couple of my favorite books and tapes about communicating with our angels. It’s all very positive and encouraging. Take these with my compliments. And please, take the piece of jewelry of your choice. It’s the least I can do for all your help.”
“People are going crazy over you,” Dani said to Torel.
“Over me?”
“Over your kind, I mean. Angels. I thought of it as a good sign, but now I’m not so sure.”
“In a sense it
is
a good sign,” Torel said. “The children of Adam feel a great need for comfort in a world that is violent and frightening. The thought of heavenly protectors working for their good is very appealing.”
“Well put, my friend,” Lewis said. “You must remember, Dani, that once
all
people believed in the supernatural. While having different views of God and angels, they would consider anyone who did not believe in them to be ignorant, if not insane. But the long age of supernaturalism gave way to the short age of naturalism, where men attempted to explain the universe as self-existent, coming from nothing and going nowhere. Faith in God was displaced by faith in evolution, science, man, self. None of these could bear the weight of faith. The age of anti-supernaturalism couldn’t last long, for human hearts testify to a greater reality. They long to find the source of the eternal sound they now hear only in echoes.”
“Yes,” Dani said. “I understand that here like I never did on earth.”
“They know intuitively the dark world as it now is was never meant to be their home,” Lewis continued. “So they long for a better home, a true home. When modernism failed to satisfy, failed to ring true to the heart or mind, it moved to postmodernism. So, many people who twenty years ago didn’t believe in the supernatural now do.”
“And that’s good, isn’t it?” Dani said.
“Good, but only as a first step,” Lewis said. “It’s one thing to believe in the supernatural, another to believe in the one true God revealed in the Scriptures and the one and only Savior, Jesus Christ. As my friend Chesterton said—I must introduce you to him—‘When men cease to believe in God, they do not believe in nothing; they believe in anything.’ These are at once the most cynical and most gullible people who have ever lived. They are skeptical about the truth they should believe, yet gullible about the falsehoods they should question. They believe in the mystical, the occult, the New Age, anything and everything but the truth. They believe in angels because it is comforting. But the only good reason to believe anything is that it is true. And while they are correct that angels are real, they must ask the bigger question—who these angels really are. More particularly,
whose
they really are.”
“So they now believe in angels,” Dani said, “but without believing in the sovereign God who made those angels, the holy God who became a man and went to the cross to provide salvation for men.”
“Precisely,” Lewis said. “And they therefore take false comfort. For if they believed in nothing, they would likely know the crushing emptiness within and feel compelled to look outside themselves for the truth. But because they believe in the supernatural, the emptiness feels as if it is being filled. All people long to believe in the
other
, the transcendent, that which is above and beyond them, greater than they. That is why the notion of UFOs and benevolent aliens fascinates them—they offer hope and answers while not requiring them to bow the knee to the Creator and Savior who
is
the answer. Universal equality is a very wearisome and boring dogma. They long to know the superior. They long to bow the knee.”
“But why would people believe in angels but not in their Maker?” Dani asked.
“Because,” Torel said, “while they long to bow the knee, in their blindness they will choose to bow it to that which they should not. That is idolatry. They worship angels because they suppose angels are safe. Of course, we are
not
safe—far from it. Elyon’s sword-bearing warriors are safe only to those they are sent to protect. Those who have not bowed their knee to Elyon’s Son are not the friends of God, but his enemies. Still, they imagine we are safe, chubby angel babies, wish-granting genies. Belief in us gives them a link to the supernatural without having to come to grips with the frightening holiness of Elyon Almighty.”
“If they seek out contact with angels,” Lewis said, “without first bowing their knee to the Carpenter, they may find angels, all right, but not the ones they seek.”
“You mean … fallen angels?” Dani asked.
“Yes,” Torel said. “Those of my kind who rebelled against Elyon. They hate all his creation, especially the children of Adam. Sometimes they terrorize them, other times they appear to them as angels of light, disguised as if they were still servants of Elyon.”
“Why do people believe them?” Dani asked.
“Because they are blind,” Torel said. “Unless Elyon first touches them, do you expect the blind to see?”
“Ollie, thanks for coming. What’s going on? Why are they holding me?” Clarence asked.
“Oh, I don’t know. Reckless driving. Endangering pedestrians. Assault. Destruction of property. Holding a knife to someone not engaged in a criminal act. Have I missed anything?”
“Look, Ollie. These are the guys who killed Dani and Felicia.”
“Did they tell you that?”
“Not in so many words. But when I asked them if they’d been to 920 Jackson Street the night of the murders, they turned tail and ran.”
“And that proves they’re the killers?”
“Well, why else would they run?”
“Oh, let’s see. A six-four, three-hundred-pound dude with an attitude challenges them. Why
wouldn’t
they run?”
“Come on, Ollie. This was the car. A gold Impala, late seventies. Two young male Hispanics. And I’m only 288 pounds.”
“What color did you say the car was?”
“Gold. You remember what Mookie said.”
“I know what Mookie said. But the guys you manhandled? Their Impala isn’t gold. It’s green.”
Clarence groaned. “I was sure it was gold.”
“I just went to the yard where it’s been impounded. It’s green. Not even close to gold. You color blind or something?”
“But—are you saying these really weren’t the guys?”
“Let me say it straight out so even a journalist can understand me—
these really weren’t the guys.
Based on your accusations, the police searched the car, the
green
car. No drugs. No weapons. These guys don’t have a police record. They’re model citizens. They work for a nursery out in Troutdale. To top everything off, they’ve even got an alibi. The church they attend in Gresham had a special service that night. It went late, and then they were up past midnight with each other’s wives and kids at their apartments, which are right next to each other. Even the manager saw them.”
“What were they doing in North Portland?”
“When you accosted them? Well, this being America and all, they really don’t have to explain that. But they were looking for some repair shop with a special on front-end alignments. They had the flyer in the car. They were trying to find the place, ran low on gas, and were going to ask directions at the station when this big ugly dude confronts them like he saw their faces on
America’s Most Wanted.”
“But, I was sure—”
“Sure of what? That just because they’re two Latinos in a green car that looks gold only to you, that somehow they’re guilty and you can chase them down like they were Charles Manson on the lam? Why don’t you let the cops and the courts mete out the justice, okay?”
“Maybe because the cops and the courts don’t bring people to justice.”
“Your vigilante justice sure doesn’t cut it.”
“Better vigilante justice than no justice.”
“Well, what you did was injustice, you got that? You’re in trouble, Clarence. And you got the cops in trouble too. They arrested two innocent guys based on your assurances because you’re a credible journalist—how’s that for an oxymoron? How do you think the Portland Hispanic Council is going to respond to the cops arresting those guys? I wonder how many lawyers will volunteer to file lawsuits for these guys? By the way, you owe them a new car window. That’s all they’re concerned about right now. Maybe if you give them cash they won’t file any charges against you.”
“File charges?”
“Reckless endangerment, vehicular pursuit, destroying private property, assault with a deadly weapon. They could make a good case for calling it a hate crime too.”
“A hate crime?”
“Yeah. You went after them because they were Hispanics, right?”
Clarence was released at 10:00 P.M. and got home just before Geneva came back from the bazaar. Ty had stepped out, violating his grounding, but Jonah had been watching the girls and everything was okay. Clarence decided not to mention the incident with the car. No need to upset Geneva. He had a big Band-Aid on his hand and had formulated a good excuse when she came in the door. All the kids were in bed, and he acted as if he’d been home all evening. Geneva overflowed with stories about Esther Norcoast and angels and the bazaar. He was glad to listen.
“I went to the Kims’ store this afternoon,” Geneva said. “I apologized for Tyrone.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” Clarence said. “He apologized himself. Remember? I took him in this morning.”
“I know. But I felt bad. We’re his guardians. That makes us responsible too.”
“He has to make his own choices.”
“I still felt bad. Mrs. Kim and I had a good talk. I’m getting to know her. Her name’s Mae.”
“Uh-huh.” Clarence picked up the newspaper.
“I invited them to dinner. They’ll be here tomorrow night at 6:30.”
“What? You invited them to dinner?”
“I think I just said that, didn’t I? Hattie Burns is going to watch the kids, so it’ll just be the four of us. Unless her sister comes, but Mae doesn’t seem to think she will.”
BOOK: Dominion
7.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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