Authors: Brian Smith
Tags: #religion, #fraud, #religious fanaticism, #temple, #fanaticism, #fanatic
Sycko quickly got up and eagerly
followed Jeremiah to his car. “A trip in the car,” Sycko said.
“This does look like a fun day.”
That’s the spirit,” Jeremiah
grinned. “Now, our first stop will be in town. You remember old Mr.
Drummond? A stout chap with a receding hairline and bright blue
eyes, always well-dressed? He used to spend quite some time in
front of Diana.”
“Yes, I think so. He hasn’t come
for a while, has he?”
“That’s right, he’s sick. In
fact he’s very sick, he’s got cancer and doesn’t get out of his
house much.”
“Oh dear, so we’re visiting
him?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say visit,
Sycko. We have a much more important thing to accomplish. Mr.
Drummond is in urgent need of medical attention and the doctors
treating him are quite unable to help him. In fact they’ve told him
that he’s got terminal cancer, in other words they’re admitting
that they can’t help him at all. Now fancy that, would you want to
go to a doctor who told you that he couldn’t help you?”
Sycko shook his head
emphatically. “Seems rather pointless, I mean why bother if…”
“Exactly, my dear boy. You’ve
hit the nail on the head. Why bother with a doctor who can’t help
you?”
“And we can help him?”
“Most certainly yes, we’re
Dryvellers after all. Are we not blessed by the providence of the
Lord? We have got our own Dryvellist Hospital. Our patients receive
special care that ordinary hospitals can’t provide. So today we’re
going to pick up Mr. Drummond and show him the hospital. After the
awful experiences he’s had at other hospitals we can’t blame him if
he wants to see the place first before committing himself. At the
moment he’s staying at home and all the poor fellow has are
mountains of painkillers from the public hospital. And that’s what
they call ‘health care’. But we know better. We’ll show him what
care really means and make sure that he gets what he deserves.”
The car pulled up in front of a
large villa and Jeremiah parked it in the drive. The villa was
surrounded by a large garden with trees and flowerbeds that gave it
the serene and peaceful air of a country estate even though it was
in the middle of town. They entered the building and Jeremiah
admired the opulent interior while waiting for Mr. Drummond. A
large brass chandelier hung high up in the entrance hall, the walls
were covered in dark oak panels and on the floor a thick Persian
carpet completed the picture of refined opulence.
“Mr. Drummond will see you now,”
the butler said and took them into the gentleman’s bedroom. When
they entered they saw a private nurse administer a large dose of
opiates to her patient.
“Master Jeremiah!” Mr. Drummond
called out. “Thank God you’re here. I’ve been waiting for this
moment so much. The only thing that keeps me alive here is my nurse
and the stuff she gives me against the pain. It’s no life, I tell
you, it’s dreadful. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
Jeremiah smiled. “Well, all
that’s over now. This is the beginning of a new life for you. Have
trust in the Lord and you will be provided for.”
“And you’re quite sure they’ll
be able to help me?” Mr. Drummond said, still not feeling quite
convinced but desperately wanting to believe what he was told.
“Of course, my dear fellow. I’m
taking you there personally,” Jeremiah said. “After all these years
we’ve known each other how can there be any doubt? I would never
even think of recommending it to you if I wasn’t absolutely sure
that it was the right thing. The level of care you’ll be getting
there will far outpass anything you can imagine. You won’t be
treated as someone who has a death sentence any more. You’ll be a
patient who will get all the help and care he deserves and you’ll
have the Lord on your side. What better physician could you wish
for?”
Drummond looked at Jeremiah with
the desperate hope of a drowning man in his eyes. “Yes, Jeremiah.
You don’t mind if I call you Jeremiah, do you? I always knew I
could count on you when the time came.” He turned to the nurse.
“Get me the wheelchair. I’m leaving.”
The nurse looked disapprovingly
at Jeremiah and Sycko but obeyed and pushed Mr. Drummond out of the
house to Jeremiah’s car.
An hour later they arrived at
the Dryvellist Hospital which was situated in the country. The
environment was much more pleasant there than in town and, of
course, the cost of running a hospital was much lower than in town.
The building was white and shone brightly in the sunshine. There
were classic Greek columns on either side of the entrance that
betrayed the building’s origins in the 1930s.
Sycko and Jeremiah helped Mr.
Drummond out of the car and into the wheelchair. Sycko pushed the
wheelchair while Jeremiah walked next to it and chatted with their
patient. They entered the large entrance hall that had been witness
to many a man’s last journey. The red and white marble floor was
worn in places and the walls were decorated with pictures and other
mementos of Dryvellism.
They went to the reception where
they were met by the director of the hospital, Dr. Lee, an astute
business woman who had turned the hospital into a veritable
goldmine. A few years earlier she had been a simple piano teacher,
but that changed after she bought a medical degree and a doctorate
online. She was soon hired by Master Jeremiah to run the hospital
and even though her administrative style was capricious verging on
the unpredictable or even chaotic she applied the principles of
profit maximisation to the hospital with impressive results.
Jeremiah beamed at her.
“Director Lee, what a pleasure to see you again. May I introduce my
old friend Mr. Drummond to you.”
She smiled and shook hands. “A
pleasure to have you here with us, Mr. Drummond. Master Jeremiah
has already informed me of your condition and the poor help you’ve
received at the government hospital. I can assure you that things
will be very different here.”
Drummond looked up from his
wheelchair and saw a middle aged woman with black hair and brown
eyes. There were few wrinkles in her face and her friendly smile
exuded a genuine kindness that made Drummond instinctively trust
her.
“Thank you,” he said. “But first
I’d like to take a look around, if you don’t mind. Master Jeremiah
told me I could have a look before I decide and…”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Drummond.
That’s what I’m here for. I’d be delighted to take you on a tour.
Please follow me, I’m sure you’ll find the wonderful things we’re
doing here impressive. In fact, some of the things I have witnessed
here myself verge on the miraculous. Maybe Master Jeremiah has
already told you about some of the things we do here?”
“Yes, indeed,” Jeremiah said.
“Most certainly yes, we have talked a good deal about this
marvellous hospital and also about the miracles that have been
brought about with the help of the Lord in this very place. Yes, my
dear Drummond, miracles do happen even in our day and age and I am
proud to say that I have played no small part in them, if I may say
so myself.”
“I couldn’t agree more,”
Director Lee said. “And if good Master Jeremiah is too bashful to
tell you about the true extent of the Lord’s work that we
accomplish here then I can only invite you to see with your own
eyes.”
They went up a floor in the lift
and down a corridor. Mr. Drummond looked around in eager
anticipation of any medical miracles there might be to see. His own
state of mind and the relentless chatter from Master Jeremiah and
Director Lee had already made him a firm believer in the miraculous
cures that were possible or even commonplace in a Dryvellist
Hospital. And if others benefitted from such miracles then why
shouldn’t he too? After years of prayers and worship at the temple,
not to mention a fortune in donations surely he was as much
entitled to a medical miracle as anyone else. And if he thought
about it, didn’t he have more of a right to such a miracle than
most other people? The more he considered the matter the surer he
was that a miraculous cure of his own disease was a foregone
conclusion. His only regret was all the time he had wasted at
public hospitals.
They came round a corner and
entered one of the wards where they were greeted by laughter. A
nurse was sitting on a chair in the middle of the room apparently
having a good time with the four patients in the room.
“Hello, sister,” Director Lee
said. “This is Mr. Drummond. He’s thinking of joining us here and
would like to see what things are like. Can you tell us about what
you’re doing?”
“Hello, Mr. Drummond,” the
pretty young nurse said with a winning smile. “It’s so nice to have
you here, I’m sure you’ll love it. So what have we been doing? We
started with a prayer for healing and good health from our merciful
Lord. Then we sang a few psalms and talked about our lives, what
has happened and what we’re planning to do after we leave here. But
maybe our patients could share with us. Justin, would you like to
tell Mr. Drummond about yourself?”
A young man about twenty years
old was sitting upright in bed and looked at Mr. Drummond. “Yea,
sure,” Justin said. “Actually I don’t know what I can tell you, Mr.
Drummond. It’s like I had this really bad accident and couldn’t
walk and now my leg’s just fine again. Look!” he said and swung his
legs out of bed. He stood up and slowly walked to Mr. Drummond and
shook his hand before going back to bed again. He had fallen off
his bike and broken his leg, but no one told Drummond that.
“Marvellous,” Drummond said.
“How I wish I could get up just like that again and walk around.
Are you going to get out of here again? I mean are you cured?”
“Yea, sure,” Justin said a
little bewildered. “Of course I’m getting out again. I’m quite well
again. There’s nothing like the relaxation and banter with the
nurse here to get you back on your feet. After a month here you’ll
be just your old self again,” Justin said confidently with his own
case in mind.
The nurse smiled. “That’s great,
Justin. Thank you for sharing with us. And thank the Lord for
making you well again.”
“And the lame shall walk again!”
Jeremiah happily quoted from The Holy Dryvel. “Now what did I tell
you, my dear Drummond. Miracles do still happen even in our day and
age! Didn’t I say so?”
“You certainly did, Master
Jeremiah. Yes, you did say that,” he said with the confidence of a
man who feels he has just been cured himself.
Director Lee looked happy.
“Would you like to hear from some of our other patients, Mr.
Drummond? I’m sure we could spend a wonderful afternoon talking to
many others. What do you say?”
“Oh, I’m sure that won’t be
necessary,” he said quickly. The exertions of the trip had left him
quite exhausted already and even though all the excitement had
buoyed him he still felt he needed a rest more than anything else.
“Say, Master Jeremiah mentioned you have a nice garden here for the
patients. Is that right?”
“Yes, would you like to see it?
It’s open to all our patients who are well enough to be out and
about.”
“Another day,” Drummond said.
“Tomorrow would be nice. I’m feeling exhausted now. What I really
need is a rest.”
“Then you’ll be staying right
away?” Director Lee said with a smile.
He nodded.
“Splendid. Let’s go to the
office and settle the formalities and I’ll have you taken to your
room.” She sneezed and everyone heard the sound of a little thing
falling on the wooden floor. “My tooth!” Director Lee said annoyed.
“It’s come out.”
She covered her mouth with one
hand to hide the gap in her front teeth. To be accurate it wasn’t
really a tooth but a temporary crown that had been dislodged by her
sneeze. Now everyone was on their knees crawling around and looking
for the missing crown. Only old Mr. Drummond sat in his wheelchair
looking bewildered. A minute later the tooth was found and Director
Lee hurried out with it.
“I thought we were going to the
office,” Drummond said but Justin was the only one who heard him.
He explained about the tooth and then said with an impish grin
“I’ve got some Tic Tacs here. Shall I drop one on the floor when
Director Lee comes back?”
Drummond chuckled. “Don’t you
dare, you young rascal!”
Justin sniggered and was about
to say something when Director Lee came back still holding a hand
in front of her mouth. “Let’s go,” she said.
Director Lee was ensconced in a
huge leather armchair behind an enormous mahogany desk in her
office with Jeremiah, Sycko and Drummond sitting opposite her. She
explained the contract to Drummond and then proceeded to the small
print.
“Oh, and here’s just one more
little thing that’ll require your signature. It’s a clause stating
that in the event of your demise during your stay with us your
entire estate will fall to the Holy Temple. Just a formality, of
course.” She smiled at Drummond.
“My demise?” he said looking
bewildered for the second time.
“It’s an honesty clause, my dear
Drummond,” Jeremiah hastened to add. “What it means is that you
have here, in black and white, an absolute guarantee that you will
leave this hospital again in good health. After all we could never
accept that all your estate was imposed upon us. You have known me
for so many long years not only as an honest Master of the Temple,
but, I dare say, as a friend, and you know in your heart that I
only want what is best for you.”
“Oh, I see. Well if you put it
that way,” Drummond said slowly, though he wasn’t sure if he did
understand the point Jeremiah was making. He picked up the pen and
signed the document. “I’m sure it’s all the way it should be if you
say it, Jeremiah. And you’re quite sure you’ll be able to help me
here?” he said even though it was really too late for any last
minute doubts.