Sacred Flesh (20 page)

“I have no idea why I’m here.”

“You’re name is Winston Chester Winham. You are fifty one years of age though you often tell people less time has transpired since your birth.”

“I work out.”

“Quiet Winham! You’re employment as an Archaeology professor has taken you around the globe several times, through the multitudes of your travels you’ve encountered many people or shall we say many types, characters really if you will.”

“Why am I here? I request an attorney and now!”

“One of those types solicited you last year at an Italian airport lounge. You took him up on the offer, a very large sum of money if you could somehow locate a rather very precious item and deliver it to him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You almost did it too Winham, you were told of the church in America in a small town where it has been rumored lays buried the small brown metal box containing the very sacred flesh of Jesus Christ – an item priceless really if it is in fact His, it does offer a healthy price if it does exist and thus your mission. You knew generally where to look but you needed help and that took the form of a very nice young American woman Stacy Hanson, a visiting student from the very town. What great fortune you possess, you were already acquainted with her friends, did your contact know that? Probably, and with money as the motivator it didn’t take long for you to woo her. She took the bait and before you know it there you are in that small town, your prize right under your nose maybe, maybe not. It could all be a sham. The flesh may not even exist at all. But you took your chance and it paid off, or so you thought.”

“What are you getting at?”

“Mr. Winham, all your expensive efforts netted you this one small brown metal box,” he says putting it down on the table in front of him, “The one from your jacket pocket.”

“So?”

“There’s only one problem,” he undoes the latch opening the box, “this box is completely empty,” he lends in closer until he’s almost touching Winham’s nose, “Where’s the real one?”

“We come upon a quest Father,” Roland says as the three of them stand in the mist of the darken church, Roland and Eric silently look up at the tall, thin priest, despite the darkness they can make out his grey short hair and the few wrinkles gracing his face.

“You won’t believe it,” Eric adds.

“Try me. There’s a great deal that I believe,” he says folding his hands in front of him.

They tell him of Jim Dunbar and the Sacred Flesh, the hidden metal box and the importance of their journey.

“I’m astounded,” the Father says shaking his head slightly. “You’re right I find it difficult to believe. If there were to be such a sample of Sacred Flesh I doubt that it would survive all these years. There are those who insist they possess the spear, the nails, pieces of the very Cross itself even. I always found such claims to be suspect at best.”

“But Father,” Roland says.

“However, I’m always open to possibilities and I suppose there is a possibility that what you speak of is real but I won’t allow you to tear up this good church in such a pursuit. You may however know that a gentleman was recently down in the crawl space. We hired an electrician to do some rewiring work. Maybe he found something. I doubt it but I can give you his business card if that is any help.”

“Yes, it would be of great help,” Roland tells him.

“But boys, you must never come back here like this. This is Holy space and it is not to be invaded in such a manner, no one should sneak into a church under darkness.”

“We won’t Father. Our word,” They tell him.

“I was set up,” Winham says to his jail mate. As they sit next to each other in their shared captive abode.

“Weren’t we all?” he responses looking like the rough type that has known the inside of a jail room more than once. The type of soul that if they were to only redirect their energy into some useful pursuit would more than likely become a somewhat happy and productive member of the culture. But atlas, in many souls that seed seems to lie dormant.

Excited to find an ear willing to listen to his tale Winham goes on to explain everything including somewhat foolishly, the great amount of money he would receive if the deal with the buyers went through.

“Now she has it. I told them that fact but they don’t believe me. They aren’t even looking for her. They said where’s the real one and I told them find her and you’ll have the real one,” Winham tells him.

After thinking it over for a brief moment he offers, “They probably are looking for her. They just fed you that line thinking you’re holding back, you know, a little juice left in the kitty.”

“What?” Winham asks.

“Where you think she’s run off too?”

“Back to America, I imagine, although I can’t really say with certainty. I don’t even know why she took it she has no contacts that I’m aware of.”

“She’s got something going on. She’s pulled the wool right over your eyes mate,” he says.

“I thought I’d have a great deal of cash right now, instead here I am,” he says sitting on the bunk bed next to the stainless steel toilet.

“I tell you what, if that box is what you say, if it is the Sacred Flesh then don’t you think there’s someone out there willing to pay a pretty penny for it?” he asks.

“Oh yes, absolutely, I know it for a fact,” Winham says.

“Listen, I’m getting out of here tomorrow. All you have to do is tell me where to start and I’ll go looking for her.”

“What good will that do me?”

“What have they got on you? What evidence? They can’t keep you in here forever. When you get out stay here in London and look for her. I’ll go to America and do the same between the two of us we’re bound to turn her up, all you have to do is tell me where to start and I’ll see if she’s made contact with her family. When I’m getting close I’ll call you and you come over and we’ll grab her and the Sacred Flesh. All I ask is that you cut me in on the profit, oh let’s say twenty percent ought to do nicely. That should keep me comfortable and out of trouble for awhile,” he says laughing.

“If she still has it,” Winham says.

“Well, what do you say mate, do we have a deal?”

“Sure, what have I got to lose?”

“I thought I knew her better than for her to take up with some guy like that,” he says as they sit around the kitchen table. They called the number on his business card and he invited them over. Living alone he didn’t mind the company and lately he had a gut feeling about the box, like something wasn’t right about it but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Do you know him very well?” Roland asks.

“No, not really, I met him a couple of times. He was distance, always seemed preoccupied as if there was something on his mind he didn’t want to share. I didn’t trust him because of that. You have to have some kind of idea what a person is thinking in order to trust them, don’t you agree?”

“What?” Eric asks.

“To trust someone, that’s what he’s saying you have to know their mind,” Roland offers.

“Well, at least have some idea of it: their mind. This guy, I don’t know, his mind was always on something but he wasn’t about to share. As if he was hiding something. I don’t know I just had an uneasy feeling about him.”

“Why do you think your daughter liked him?” Roland asks.

“Oh, maybe because he was high up at the university, that’s all I could figure. I don’t know. She was always into ideas, intellectual stuff ever since her mother passed away and being an only child she was all I had left. Well, she buried herself in books and such and I just kept working as hard as I could so as to afford her schooling. I promised her mother I’d do all I could for her and I believe I’ve done so, as best I could anyway but she’s had me so worried lately,” he says shaking his head side to side.

“Can you tell us about the church where you did the rewiring?” Roland asks.

“Yeah, that Priest is a nice fellow isn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Roland answers.

“Old, old building over there, over a hundred years old and that wiring looked like original equipment.”

“When you were in the crawl space,” Eric asks.

“I think I know what you’re getting at.”

“You do?”Roland asks.

“I thought it was funny. Who would leave a small brown metal box down there like that?”

“What was in it?”Eric asks.

“Some little piece of something sealed in plastic, old brownish shivered up, didn’t look like much of anything really. I told my daughter about it and she asked me if I wanted the box and I said no, didn’t have any use for it.”

“She took it?” Roland asks.

“Yeah, said it might be some kind of antique. Don’t know how that could be, you want to see antiques come out to the garage. I got a collection of unopened cereal boxes with football players on them, now that’s antiques, not what they call antique these days.”

“Okay.” Roland says, looking somewhat puzzled.

“That box she took isn’t no antique but I didn’t say anything. She wants it she can have it. It worth money or something? Why you fellows so interested in it?”

“It could be worth a great deal more than money Mr. Hanson,” Eric says.

“How so?”

“Well, we’re not certain it’s worth
anything
. But we defiantly would like to talk to your daughter,” Eric says.

“You have good timing,” he tells them.

“How so?” Roland asks.

“She just called me last night, been in London with that fellow but she’s coming back.”

“In London?” Eric asks.

“That’s where she met him, it’s where he teaches. She took off pretty fast now that you mention it. She got the box and then the very next day she said all of a sudden that him and her had to get back to London for something.”

“Huh.” Roland says.

“Funny thing she don’t have much to say about none of it now. They was to get married but she’s not coming right back here. She’s flying into Boston. Said she’ll drive over here in a few days.”

“That’s odd to you?” Eric asks.

“Thing is she said he’s not coming back with her, said it’s over between them, will explain more when she sees me later. It’s just not like her. That’s what worries me. She’s never been a spontaneous kind of person, always been very careful about everything.”

“You think the box has something to do with this?” Roland asks.

“I don’t see how it couldn’t. There’s something about that box that’s causing a lot of trouble.”

“Thank you for coming, there isn’t much time left,” Glenn says while lying in bed in his small room, his hair silver white and face deeply lined.

“They’ve given you the last rites and seen to you properly?” The priest asks with great concern showing on his face as he sits down in a chair next to the bed.

“Yes, I’m all ready to go I guess,” Glenn says.

“You do look a little tired. It’s odd isn’t it? Though death is inevitable for all of us we never seem fully prepared for it.”

“I’m doing okay I guess, not bad for a man about to pass over.”

“Yes, I suppose so. What can I do for you Glenn?”

He coughs, “There is one great weight upon my soul that I do not wish to carry over with me.”

“Yes?”

“This is difficult for me to say to you, may the Lord forgive me but I have lived here the last twenty one years as a terrible deceiver,” Glenn says.

“How so?”

“I have lied. I lied to you about the Sacred DNA Sample. The one I provided wasn’t sacred. It hadn’t passed the test. I simply took it out of the
Elite
vault, faked the results and sold it to you. You then cloned the DNA and raised that boy as if from the Sacred Flesh of our Lord but it was only ordinary flesh.”

“Why?”

“Money. I wanted it badly. I didn’t think I’d live long enough to see the
Elite
gain domination of a world church. I’d never enjoy the power that would come from it so why bother? I took the money. I traveled all over the world and spent it all foolishly on all the pleasures a person could within this world and now what do I have left but a great weight upon my soul. I sold out my
Elite
brothers and lied to you my Roman friends,” Glenn tells him.

“How terrible, the child is now a young man only a few years from taking the throne. We are to reveal to the world that the very son of our Lord is here on Earth to be our new Pope. We’ve waited twenty one years for this to occur and now you tell us it was all a sham, a fake, a horrible lie!”

“Yes, as awful as it is that’s what I did and now I’m to die and meet the Lord Himself.”

“He will not be pleased. I can tell you that.”

“Can you forgive me?’ Glenn asks.

“Yes, I forgive you. The Church can absolve you of this great sin but my brother, while I do envy that you are soon to be released from this earthly bound I do not take comfort in the position you find yourself in, you’ve left us with a great problem but we shall see a way out. For the sake of your soul I pray the Lord shows you mercy,” he says while making the sign of the cross.