Thursday, April 30, 2015

Fear of the Dark – Chapter 1.7 - Our Father

Timmy walked into the rectory twenty minutes late, which as we know makes him almost early. The New York Times was sitting on his desk, and it wasn’t opened at all. The front page had the headline that was what he needed to see, and that was why the reverend left it that way. “The Wrath of God” was in large letters with a picture of a Chinatown building missing a large chunk of wall, about eight stories up. Inside that missing chunk of wall Timmy examined, with his handy magnifying glass that he keeps in his top drawer, what appeared to be a broken toilet with blood all over it. “Well it seems our friend was a bit busy last night,” he said aloud to the reverend as he entered the room.

“Read the article, it appears that he is evolving,” the reverend said back to him, “he’s taking on a more civic minded approach to vigilantism,” and he plunked himself into his chair with his usual morning bagel.

“Apparently nobody saw a thing at this gruesome scene in Chinatown last night. The police who first arrived on the scene, wouldn’t have even recognized it as another violent act by the crazed lunatic some in the city are calling ‘God’ were it not for further inspection of the scene. Seven lay dead on the street from what had appeared to be falling from the ninth story of this Chinatown business through the broken out bricks. The police had initially reported an explosion, but after being surrounded by women fleeing the building they entered for further inspection. Among the fallen dead was Dim Ju Fong, a well respected fundraiser for the DNC who suffered decapitation from the fall and many of his most respected business associates,” Timmy stopped to make an observation. “I don’t get out much, but even I knew how ‘well respected’ these characters were, and I think Chinatown might be a better place already,” and then he went back to the newspaper. “Inside the business were several dozen undocumented residents, who were suffering from various ailments and injuries, which many of them attest were not caused by the incident upon further interpretation in their native language. Some hysterically were thanking him.”

“You can see where this is going, I imagine,” the reverend piped up. “It’s not exactly a new story in the war of God versus Chinatown, but wait until you get to the good parts.”

Timmy started reading again, “Inside the, thought to be exploded out bathroom, was the remains of an unidentified man. The usual lack of blood, and completely shredded remains made it obvious at that point as to what the police were dealing with, but more evidence had revealed that the wall was smashed inward. This has police baffled as to how and why God would do such a thing. Is it politically motivated?” Timmy stopped short and then barked out, “Is it possible for the New York Times to get even worse?” which made the reverend laugh. He continued with the article, “A woman on the scene who had two severely broken arms {name withheld} was the most talkative from her hospital bed, and through an interpreter this story was formed, ‘I heard the explosion in the other room, and the screaming. I heard the screaming of many of the men fade away and then stop which I know now was when they hit the ground. The really loud screaming stopped suddenly and then I heard things being thrown around. Then the door to the room I was locked in to die was kicked in. I passed out from being so scared and woke up here in the hospital,’ but this reporter doesn’t know how much of her testimony to believe. The rest of the women who were at the location refuse to talk about any of it at all, but are saying things relating to ‘Thank God’ and ‘God Save Us’ in their native tongue.”

“It makes me sick actually to think that this city needs to be protected at night by a vampire,” the reverend mused, “That newspaper is probably going to do a series about the tragedy of losing these fine upstanding citizens, and never once report the obvious truth about what the women really were doing there. Does that Chinese boy that comes to youth group speak Chinese at all?”

Timmy looked up from the newspaper and said, “Yeah Charlie is an immigrant. You wouldn’t know it because his English is flawless but he was raised Mandarin I think.”

“I think you should see if his mother would loan him to you for the day and go minister to some underprivileged immigrants at the hospital,” the reverend said to Timmy. “That book will wait, but injuries heal, so you may not get this chance again.”

After a short phone call to Charlie’s mother, a converted Anglican herself, Timmy found himself with two translators. Charlie’s mother Michelle insisted on coming along with them both. She had read the newspaper this morning as well and shared all of the same concerns that Timmy did. Not just about the poor reporting, but the enslavement of women in general. She was a lucky woman, and she knew it. Her husband is a very wealthy New York attorney who had met her on a business trip to Beijing. He had actually fallen in love with her son first, as he was his personal concierge at the hotel that they both worked at. She reaped the rewards of a better life from that bond, and got a damn fine husband to boot. His fanatical human rights leanings wore off on her and added to her real life experience, and this was exactly the way she would want to spend a day.

The INS agents stood sentry at the door to the severely injured woman that Timmy and Michelle had come to see proceeded to give them a hard time about going inside. Michelle was on the phone to her husband almost instantly and started crying to him in broken English, and his very name being mentioned several times made the INS agents a bit wary. Timmy was arguing the point that the woman they were in the process of treating like a criminal was a victim, but it was falling on deaf ears. It was about the time that Michelle said “You be here honey, we wait for you to kick some …” well you get the point, when the INS agents decided it was probably better to allow them to just go inside and “minister” to the woman. New York is a funny sort of city that way after all.

After a brief period of calming the woman down inside the room Michelle started talking to her in a tongue that Timmy definitely couldn’t understand and apparently Michelle barely could. Timmy had never known that there were several forms of the Chinese language, but Michelle was quite adaptable to it. The woman, Hon So Lee, brought them through a tale of the most unspeakable evil that Timmy had ever heard from an actual witness. Her capture, her slavery, the things they made her do, and of course the impending death that she was facing at the hands of those “monsters” as she had called them in almost flawless English. She had very limited knowledge of what had gone on in the other room as God was apparently dealing with the trash that ran the place, but she could tell them all about the sounds. She went as far as to point out that whatever had happened to them, the screaming that they had let out and the panic was far worse than any of the times she had heard the other women in the place being taken to their torture and death. She smiled, as she talked about their final moments.

The part of the story that she told that got rather sketchy was what happened after God had taken care of all of the human debris that ran the place that had been her prison. She said that the screaming of the men had stopped and she could hear the sobbing of the other women in the place. Aside from some panicked screams from various women, she had heard nothing come from any of them that equaled to what the men were bellowing through the place. The fact that god had been finished with what he was doing in the bathroom, was only clear because the ripping sounds, and the sounds of bodies being thrown around had ended. Despite the sobbing the silence around it had become almost terrifying in and of itself, and then it happened. There was no warning, no sounds from the other side of the door when it exploded in on her and all of the other women that were slated to die in that room. She saw nothing but a huge foot in a black boot, with a huge, hairy leg attached to it, and what appeared to be the sway of a very large black raincoat or something along those lines. The women in the room with her cowered in the corner, terrified of what was coming through the door, but nothing did. She alone was the only one there that didn’t feel afraid, but felt like something great and powerful had happened, but she couldn’t get up with both of her arms the way they were.

Michelle had laid her hand on the scared young girl’s face and said something to her in Chinese, and the girl’s face lit up. She continued to talk to her a bit, and then the girl started making sounds in Chinese that actually sounded like great gratitude. Timmy couldn’t get the translation of it because a more official looking INS agent came in and reported that it was time for them to leave. Michelle walked over to the man and nonplussed, she handed him a card while saying, “Miss Lee is being represented by my husband, and I am her official translator. You will have no further communications with her unless my husband and I am present,” she paused and looked back at the girl before she looked back at the agent, “I will be needing your appointment papers to your position because my husband believes that it is entirely possible that you have a conflict of interest with the person who did this too her, and his name is Dim Ju Fong, not God, so let’s get that out into the open, so that you understand what YOU are dealing with ok?” The agent looked at her and Timmy indignantly, but decided that he would be better off remaining silent at this point, which made Timmy understand wordlessly whose name was on his appointment. Michelle for all of her class and casually legal talk was incredibly furious, as she stormed out of the room.

She was arguing with the other INS agents as to the location of the other girls that had been brought to the hospital, and she was adamant that it had gone from a spiritual matter into a legal matter. She must have gotten more from what the girl was saying than what she had time to translate on the fly. Charlie pulled Timmy off to the side and said, “My mother is very angry because Hon had told her how badly the INS was treating her, and the police were no better,” he licked his lips and continued, “the girl feels that they all are more upset about Dim Ju Fong being dead than her and the rest being rescued, and you can see how quickly they want to make the girls go away?”

Timmy nodded and looked at Michelle as she diatribed her way around all of the confused looking INS agents. He asked Charlie, “Was there anything else you heard that sounded strange that she didn’t get around to telling me?”

Charlie nodded, “She said that the creature, or whatever did that to them all was roaring at them all in Chinese,” and Timmy let out a bit of a dramatic gasp as Charlie continued on, “At first he told them that he was reclaiming them all in the name of God, and then she started reciting what he was saying after that, and made it known that he was doing it dramatically as he smashed, ripped and killed, and even though she didn’t know what it was that he was saying, we do.”

Timmy looked at him gravely and asked him, “What was it that he was reciting in Chinese?”

“It was the Lord’s Prayer.”  … To Be Continued

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